Tytiana

by Marc Secchia

  Entitled, Tytiana? She knew someone else to whom that word could apply rather too aptly.

  Shalanya seemed convinced she was a Shapeshifter after all. How exactly did that work? Wouldn’t she just start burning everything the minute an aerial battle started?

  Night lay deep over the Islands, as if innocent of all knowledge of what had transpired inside the cavern. She shuddered to think of so many Dragonkind suffocating and dying beneath the Cloudlands. Flicker had muttered that their deeds judged them, but even he sounded heartsick of the whole affair. Now, not far away, the heavily armoured Dragonships manoeuvred into a lower, tighter grouping and the mercenary Dragons formed up around them in dense wedges. The high White Moon and Yellow looming half-full on the Eastern horizon, covering a goodly third of the night sky, cast plenty of light for them to track enemy movements. Or not enemy, she hoped, if the Dragons could be turned from that dreadful stone’s influence. That was what her companions intended.

  Right, mental links, Flicker said inside of her mind. We have maybe five minutes to master this before they’re upon us. Essentially, Tytiana and Jakani, we’re going to all link our mental strength and use that to strike at Juzzakarr. If we can strike cleanly enough, we should be able to sever his power over the mercenary Dragons.

  Ugh, I can barely fly, Jakani complained.

  Shalanya made a derisive noise in her throat. You’re alive, aren’t you?

  Aye?

  So quit your bellyaching and fly, noble Jakani.

  Tytiana grinned to herself. Shalanya sounded young, but she certainly had her qualities. Had she a scrap of magical energy left she would have gone over to heal him, but Flicker seemed convinced it would take more than a few gushing wounds to make a Dragon fall out of the sky – and Jakani’s innate draconic healing magic was already kicking in, slowing the blood flow. Good. She still had a few kisses to demand from that runaway Dirt Picker.

  Mister Fireproof. Mister rare Dragon – holy Fra’anior!

  Here was a twist of fate she could never have imagined. A winged Nikuko warrior.

  They rose slowly, with Shalanya and Jakani both labouring as if their wings weighed tonnes, while Excorion and Adazara seemed indomitable. The storm she had heard was a mere few Islands away, she saw by a silvery curtain of rain sweeping toward them on the brisk wind, and the smaller, lighter Immadian force angled closer on a near-direct southerly bearing. Clouds obscured the stars overhead, but toward the West the sky was still pristine, with strings and bracelets of stars soaring high and bright until the gleam of White or Yellow made them appear hazy toward the edges of the Moons. Beaming from behind the approaching Dragonships, the steady moons-light lent them silvery edges, while the mercenary Dragon armour, great flexible chain-mail suits worn primarily to protect the neck, lower chest and flanks, she understood, gleamed like refulgent, silvery silken skirts. An odd image for battle armour!

  She focussed inwardly on Flicker’s instructions. It was crucial that they worked together both for assault and mutual protection.

  Strangely silent compared to before, the two forces approached each other. The mercenaries spread out in dense, compact formation, despite the apparent disparity between the two forces. They were not taking any chances.

  “There’s Juzzakarr,” Flicker said, pointing at the Dragonship formation.

  “Where?” Tytiana asked.

  “Four up and two from the left. Standing on the gantry in front of the navigation cabin,” he said. Right. Her father’s hair looked like a white dot from this distance, but she could imagine his dominant stance, chest thrown out and one hand upon the ill-starred jewel. If they could best Juzzakarr, they must find a way to destroy that artefact before it found home with another ambitious person or Dragon, and dragged them to their doom.

  Shalanya, she thought. Na’axion. Is he –

  I’ve never met him, came the burbling reply. He’s a … well, let me be honest. He’s a bit infamous in the family for being a player upon ladies’ affections. He was nicknamed ‘naughty Na’axion.’ She cleared her throat awkwardly. I don’t mean to prejudice you against him, Tytiana. Now, he heads up the Dragon Rider Academy at Jeradia. That is a fine and responsible position. So I assume – I hope – he must have reformed his ways or he would never have been entrusted with that post.

  And his hair, and looks?

  I know little, sorry, save the detail of his red hair. And that the mention of him made several of my tutors blush. I was quite young then, so I didn’t understand the interplay.

  She shut her eyes. Great. A cad with a reputation. Pick that one, or the one who wanted to set himself up as tyrant over Helyon? Thanks, o Fra’anior. Fine choice in fathers you left me.

  The Onyx-Gold sighed to her left flank.

  Ahem, said Flicker. May I teach you how to shield your private thoughts, o bright fire who is the object of the Great Onyx’s most tender regard?

  She made a small noise of humiliation, but for Flicker, she knew only admiration and gratitude for the affectionate note in his voice. That dragonet! Strut he might, and put Dragons twenty times his size firmly in their place, but he reminded her somehow of a hoary grandfather figure, one who assumed great latitude with his ways due to his age and station, but unaffected by the many cares of younger creatures, spoke his own heart with breathtaking frankness.

  She said, Thou art the jewel of Fra’anior’s own fire-eye, noble Flicker.

  Ah … he spluttered, and ground a knuckle into his eye. Don’t you do that to my poor old heart, you beautiful rascal!

  A moment later, Excorion and Adazara surged into the lead.

  What? Wait! Shalanya cried.

  Excorion snarled over his shoulder, We were betrayed! This fight is ours!

  Dragons! Flicker laughed crossly. Never change, do they? It’s all about the honour. Well, come on, younglings! Our job is to rescue them without looking too obvious about it.

  Picking up speed, Jakani and Shalanya raced across the night sky with the wind in their wings and the wild hymn of battle in their hearts. Tytiana leaned in closer to the Albino Dragoness, wishing she had a weapon to wield in the cause. Strange that her once-father was now the enemy. How long had she been blind to that fact? Clearly, that night in the tower, she had been nothing but a pawn in his plotting to divide and discredit the Dragonkind. All the different power-plays. It was almost dizzying the way he worked at so many levels all at once. Stirring up the lamko. Importuning the High Masters. Setting Dragon against Dragon, corrupting, conniving, concealing. Ever the cunning spider.

  Then came a Dirt Picker of gold-flecked eyes to ignite her intrinsic flame.

  Jakani purred, You’re still broadcasting, beloved.

  Heat burst into her cheeks. Oops.

  I don’t mind, said he, archly. I’m learning all sorts of things these days.

  The Dragoness beneath her chuckled, but grimly. School’s out. Battle’s on, fledglings. Tytiana, try not to burn me too badly, alright? I like my scales the way they are.

  Before she could reply, battle-thunder resounded ahead of them as Excorion and Adazara accelerated to full battle velocity, outstripping the fatigued youngsters by a quarter-mile or more as they closed with the mercenary force. Metallic glints arched away from the Dragonships as the catapults fired shrapnel, bolts and even flaming balls, but the Teal Dragoness was equal to the task, shielding both herself and her companion as they arrowed directly for the High Master. Dragons closed in from either side, and above. Close, but not close enough … Flicker was counting down their strike.

  Four … three … two …

  Jakani jerked horribly to their right flank. Ah – he’s got – the Dragon’s eyes darkened.

  JAKANI! Tytiana howled. Pain lanced through her mind as he seemed to be fighting back, and Shalanya and Flicker threw strength into them both; suddenly she was aware of a pressure like a crevasse grinding closed around her brain, and a gargantuan presence that compelled her to obey, obey, OBEY!

  GRAAABOOM!!
>
  Adazara and Excorion struck as one, enveloping the High Master’s Dragonship in flame, but he too was protected by his Dragon forces. Crossbow bolts hurtled through the air, striking the attacking Dragons point-blank, and they could not all be avoided this time. Too close. Too intense. Through the grinding pain in her mind, Tytiana realised that they too were coming into range now; Shalanya somehow had the presence of mind yet to deflect a spray of deathly shrapnel, while Flicker rode her shoulder with perfect aplomb, waving his paws as he apparently swatted crossbow bolts buzzing toward them from either flank and above. The Merxxian Dragons swung across their path in a silvery screen, physically protecting the High Master with their powerful armoured bodies.

  Juzzakarr’s hand rose in a mocking beckon. ‘To me,’ it seemed to say.

  The Onyx-Gold stiffened again, under gruelling, direct attack by a dark power that seemed to ooze into his mind. Tytiana shrieked as she fought it, cracking a chink of light open into him, and through that link, she heard him laugh to someone or something and say, Very well.

  Jakani! Noooo …

  * * * *

  Tytiana’s scream loomed as close as his own soul, yet there was a peculiar stretching sensation inside of him as the Island-World shifted. One moment he was inside a place of cascading white-fires, as though the very soul’s breath of every scrap of life in all the world were his to behold, and then Juzzakarr’s face was blurring toward him, so close! Reaching out with the egg as bidden, he slapped it into the middle of the High Master’s chest. Right against the jewel.

  Then his half balled-up body hurtled past and crashed into the forward navigation cabin, shattering the armoured crysglass panels. He landed with a very rude shock. The snapped-off column of the helm was embedded in his left shoulder, but he felt no pain.

  Huh?

  Jakani scrambled around in his prone position just in time to see a soft white light gently illuminate the High Master’s jawline. Then, Juzzakarr shrieked!

  * * * *

  A droplet of white tumbled away from the Dragonship. It grew greater in Tytiana’s awareness the longer she stared. What had happened? Jakani had blinked away from their side, only to reappear in a shattering explosion of glass behind her father’s back. As the Albino Dragoness jinked and swerved past the staggered mercenaries, she saw the shock and anguish register on the tall, bulky man’s face. He clutched his chest in exactly that spot where the Nestrakil had always rested.

  The two ends of the golden chain dangled apart, empty.

  Rising awkwardly above the cutesy row of perfectly pink prickles, Tytiana tracked the falling white egg for half a second before she made her decision. Jump!

  She slipped, bounced off Shalanya’s upper right flank, and fell into space, willing her magic: one more time. Be flame. Those biceps! Yummy! And with a husky chuckle she was off, developing some kind of wings and a tail of flame to aid steerage. Human dragonfly? Close enough! Tytiana hurtled between the still-stunned Merxxian Dragons in hot pursuit of the dragonet’s egg. This was fun! Could she actually learn to flap with a pair of fiery wings? Or would some handy-dandy Dragon please come catch her before she started choking on the toxic gases, or – unholy caroli – spitted herself on those jagged black rocks down there!

  Could the egg not transport itself again? Too late to wonder about that. Perhaps dealing with the Nestrakil had knocked out or even killed the tiny eggling, but she was not about to leave that to chance. She could not sense it as she expected to.

  Faster, Tytiana!

  How she wished she knew more about what she was doing with her crazy powers. They seemed so changeable, unlike all that she expected a Shapeshifter to be. Weren’t they meant to switch between two basic, unchanging forms?

  Picking up speed, she stretched out her hand and gratefully snaffled up the gleaming egg. Please be safe, little one. Please! O holy Fra’anior, she’s not moving … I beseech thee …

  A sudden, vicious volley of snarls up above alerted her. Shocked, the Helyon girl pulled up suddenly, feeling her flaming hair slide up her back with the force of her turn. She had to re-trigger her levitating flame to prevent a wild lurch from turning into a fall. The Dragons! The Merxxian Heavy force had begun to react, to mill about in a thundering confusion of bodies and tangled wings, and at their head were Adazara and Excorion, speaking vociferously … no! She knew, she saw, she understood by their body language what the Dragons were doing and how they would respond!

  No! Excorion, Adazara, don’t!

  But it was as if the Dragons did not hear. The pair rounded upon High Master Juzzakarr with the most terrible roars she had ever heard from the Dragonkind; bestial, malicious and vengeful, the pair hurled themselves toward his Dragonship – the man’s crimson sleeves fluttering upon arms outstretched in a pleading gesture – cape billowing – Jakani peering out from the shattered cabin in patent surprise – and then the Dragons seized one arm each, and ripped Juzzakarr off that gantry – metallic talons flashing like massive butchers’ knives …

  The rising of Excorion’s wings obscured what happened next, so that all Tytiana saw as her vision mercifully blurred with revulsion was a spray of red, and several bloodied objects falling away into the depths.

  Shivering, she cradled the egg to the pulse at her neck.

  Oh … oh no, little one …

  The man she had known for most of her life as her father was gone, and the loss hurt and relieved her more than she could ever have imagined.

  She would have to be the one to convey this news to her sisters. The death of their father. Aye, she could blame the Dragons, could she not – but had not part of her wished to do the same to him, once she learned his true nature and the death to which he had so callously wished to cast her? Could it be that Dramagon’s foul stone had held him captive? Or did it truly work only upon depraved emotions or ambitions that were already present? She would never know. The Dragons’ revenge was complete; justice done and executed for his treachery, as they saw fit.

  Was this what it meant to be a Dragon? Was that what Jakani, drifting awkwardly and painfully down toward her now, would become?

  This evening had changed everything.

  * * * *

  Approaching Tytiana, Jakani said softly, “I’m sorry about your father.”

  “He probably wasn’t.”

  She looked stricken, and he did not know what to say. Her titian hair swirled restlessly but her frame, but she seemed able to levitate without conscious effort. “It was still an awful fate for anyone … to be killed like that. Are you alright?”

  “Not really.”

  “May I hold you?”

  His sensitivity was almost unbearable. She said, “Do you understand that if I think about you as Jakani the Dragon, right now, that I could not … but because you are Jakani the Human, the Dirt Picker I know and love, this is possible?”

  “Ah … now I understand.”

  Kindly, he put his paws about her, even though the gesture clearly pained him. She said, “You’re wearing half a Dragonship in your shoulder, Jakani.”

  “It’ll keep for a bit. Apparently we … uh, Dragons, are tough. Besides, I have this useful feature, a backup pair of wings that none of these other beasts appear to have. Come on. Flicker is calling everyone together for a conference, and we should –”

  “Jakani.”

  “Aye?”

  “Can you handle the talking? I just want to be alone with my thoughts; I don’t want to be called upon to make any decisions, and … I want to see if this egg is alright. She saved us.”

  Switching paws, he drew her up against his good shoulder. “Aye, she was every bit as awesome as I predicted she would be. Cheeky little mite. Come on, my favourite Choice in all the Island-World. Any wishes before we go face those freaking overzealous and probably extremely embarrassed Dragons up there?”

  “Aye! One, don’t mention or even imply any shame. Bad idea.” Her finger wagged beneath his nose. “Two, there are thousands upon thousands of Hu
man slaves hidden beneath these Islands. Jakani, do you think we could somehow arrange to save them?”

  Now here were fires he could fall helplessly into forever, Jakani thought, gazing deep into Tytiana’s welling violet eyes. She was holding everything together, as she always did, but only just. So brave. So generous of spirit. Mettle of velvet steel. He said, “For thee, I should move the very Moons. Yet on this occasion perhaps not I, but I know a dragonet who can.”

  * * * *

  With Adazara returned to leadership of the mercenary troop, the Merxxian Dragons spent what Tytiana felt was an inordinate period of time beating their collective breasts and re-declaring allegiance to Fra’anior, white-fires truth, draconic nobility and various righteous causes. One thing was for certain. Creatures who could blow such volumes of hot air, could do very much the same in conversation. As they spoke, the Immadian and Helyon Dragonship fleets moored side-by-side at a larger and relatively flatter Island of the Pla’arna Cluster, allowing various military commanders and functionaries to alight and join the discussions. In the bright moons-light, men and women lined the gantries of the Dragonships and soldiers came to stand near the paws of the Dragons, who all in turn surrounded Shalanya, Flicker, Jakani and herself.

  Under cover of this hubbub, Jakani finally managed to corner Shalanya and Flicker for the short conversation she had hoped they would have. The Princess started scratching her chin and explaining that inter-Island politics made such an effort more than complicated, but her heart was two hundred percent behind any cause that involved freeing slaves. Excorion and Adazara led a vocal chorus of draconic approbation-thundering.

  Whereupon, Flicker drew himself up upon Shalanya’s shoulder, and declared, “My very great and venerable age, and high station in this epoch of our Island-World’s history, gives me unprecedented insight into the origins of arrangements such as these extant at Pla’arna Cluster. The pirate threat has remained remarkably virulent and long-lasting despite repeated attempts to stamp out the detestable practice. Pla’arna has always been a beacon for disaffected Dragons. Stamp them out in this generation and they rise again, as vile and conniving as before. Jakani, I wholeheartedly laud your initiative. This is a noble and wonderful proposal.”