Chapter 7 - Within Ha'athior

Three days of enforced hiding were enough to drive her up the proverbial cliff-face, while the Dragons’ unending, thunderous song trembled the Island so violently that Lia kept casting distrustful glances at the cavern roof. Hualiama taught Flicker the dances from the Flame Cycle, her favourite dance-opera, but the baritone parts put her in mind of her brother Ari. Artless, trusting Ari. He would not understand why they needed to live in exile–if her family did indeed live.

“You’ve the patience of a dragonet hatchling,” said Flicker.

Lia demonstrated the dying flame pirouette.

“And the brains of a mosquito,” he added.

“I can recount the twenty-eight warren scents in order for you, if you like,” said Lia, with an exaggerated sniff of disdain. “Danger, trouble, confusion, gathering-together, deep-meeting, kinship first-degree, friendship, companionship, courtship …”

“Any monkey can parrot words without understanding.”

“I think you’re getting your animals confused,” said Lia. “I’m a straw-head, remember?”

Actually, her hair was starting to resemble straw. She had no Palace soaps and oils here to make her hair soft and lustrous, nor servants to scrub it for her and spend an hour brushing out the knots. Lia had learned a form of patience–during the inevitable, endless primping demanded of Princesses and enforced by their Queen-mothers, she designed Dragonship parts in her head or chased Dragons through the fiery suns-set skies of her imagination.

Tanned, bare-legged, dagger-wielding Princesses who ate spit-roast lemur for dinner and slurped down raw cliff-lark eggs, were not the currency of conservative Fra’anior.

Flicker raised his head. “It’s gone quiet out there.”

So it had. Lia nodded. “Do you think it might be safe? Please scout, Flicker.”

“Of course.” The dragonet managed an in-flight swagger as he nipped out of the cave.

She was just returning to her dance when a high-pitched squeal of alarm from outside arrested her mid-leap. Lia darted to the cave entrance and peered up the tunnel, squinting at the full-suns brightness at the end of the short entryway. Where was Flicker? Did he need help?

Flicker shot back toward her at ten times the speed he had departed, crying, Dragon, Dragon, Dragon …

Another Dragon? Or, could the compassionate Dragon have returned?

Get underwater!

Lia gaped at Flicker. “What?”

The pool! Go! Hide in the water!

And with that, he raced further down the tunnel.

Indecision froze her feet. No, only one Dragon knew where and who she was. This was her chance to learn something, her best and perhaps only chance to ask for help.

Hualiama jogged up to the cave entrance, just as a Dragon descended four-pawed to the ledge outside, fifty feet from her position. The Dragon was the orange colour of a flame’s heart and yellow in the underparts, a vast, hoary adult male whose wingspan had to measure over a hundred feet, and whose shoulders topped four times her height. Her breath snagged in awe. Were Dragons truly so heart-arrestingly enormous? No wonder his grip had been overpowering.

When the Orange Dragon fixed his burning eye upon her, however, the Human girl realised her mistake. This was no friendly visitor. A scar twisted the left side of his muzzle into a permanent half-sneer. The power of the Dragon’s sallow gaze reminded her of none other than Ra’aba, the way his brow-ridge drew down and his lip peeled open, revealing a jaw stuffed with gleaming fangs, any one of which could have skewered Lia and served her up as a kebab without a second thought.

Did recognition writhe in her belly? Was this the spirit of Ra’aba, reincarnated in Dragon form?

“Ah, so the dragonets spoke truly,” rumbled the Dragon, swinging his muzzle toward her, flame licking around his huge, flaring nostrils. His voice was as dry as air simmering over the caldera, crackling with fires as though he concealed a bonfire in his throat. “Here’s how it works, Princess. Run. Scream, if you’d like. I’ll give you a count of three.”

Hualiama made a wordless squeak of dread.

“Run.” The Dragon made a shooing motion with his forepaw. “Go on. It’s more amusing for me.”

Terror exploded from her belly in slow motion, burning the pathways of her body. The sense of his evil was so palpable, she knew the Dragon saw her as nothing more than a loathsome insect to be crushed beneath his heel. It was possible to die from fright. She was the prey. The Orange Dragon was the predator, and nothing in the Island-World could protect her from such a creature. Doom stalked her upon wings the colour of molten lava.

“One.”

She jerked back.

“Two …”

Hualiama’s feet seemed possessed of wings of their own. She had never fled so fast, but the monster out there provided more than enough motivation. An agile left-right dance-step took her into their chamber. She sprinted flat out. Air hissed past her ears. The Orange Dragon’s monstrous challenge, the full-throated roar of an adult male on the hunt, shook the cavern.

“Three!”

The Orange Dragon pounced, his paws crashing down near the cave entrance, the shock conducted through sand and rock to her fleeing feet. The air sucked away from her lungs; Lia heard a rising thunder of fire, a crackling and sizzling sound as a wave of heat rolled over her back, as superheated as any volcanic eruption. Fire-reflections dazzled from the crystals embedded in the cavern walls. Lia dived headlong into the cool pool. The world flared orange. Rolling over underwater, she gazed up through the ripples at a torrent of Dragon fire, roiling and billowing above the pool with fatal brilliance, as though she stared into the heart of the twin suns.

Her body was too buoyant! Hualiama tried to pull herself back down as she floated toward the surface.

The fire expired upward, smoke curling hungrily over stone.

Now was the time for silence. No splashing. She must still her heart’s thrashing. Gripping a rock with her hands to provide a modicum of control, Lia delicately raised her face out of the water. She forced herself to ignore the burning in her lungs as she allowed overheated, smoke-filled air to trickle in.

She heard a groan from deeper in the cave. “Oh … burned …”

Flicker? He was imitating her?

“Ah, Princess. Not dead yet?”

The cavernous rumbling of the Dragon’s fire stomach warned her. Gulping half a breath, Lia ducked again as a sunburst of Dragon fire streamed into the cavern, a fiery breath so powerful and sustained that she saw the surface of her pool begin to boil. A dull reverberation conducted through the water to her ears, the thunder of his attack.

The fire lasted an unending time as Lia desperately schooled her lungs and limbs, denying the desire to breathe. She had to stay hidden. Had to! Even if she slowly boiled underwater …

* * * *

Flicker crept deeper into a crack between the rocks, away from the Human skeleton he had planted in the corridor at the Ancient One’s suggestion. He stilled his breath. His hide was scorched, his lungs seared and his concealing magic deployed in full force.

The Orange Dragon bellied down the tunnel toward his position, his spine spikes scoring lines on the tunnel roof. The Dragon stopped when he spotted the charred skeleton. Ah, Princess, it ends here, he declared, visibly satisfied.

By the First Egg, please let his girl remain as silent as a hunting dragonet. How long could straw-head remain underwater? The Dragon backed up with excruciating deliberation, unable to turn in the tunnel due to his great bulk. Flicker damped his fury. He wanted nothing more than to scream, Murderer! Egg-stealer! Hatchling-killer! But if the Dragon detected his emotions, or heard his hearts-beat … his subterfuge seemed to have worked. How had the Ancient One known? Did he have the power of visions, similar to what Lia had described to him when she spoke of the Star Dragon, who must have taken refuge in this very cave? Could the Human girl have envisioned Istariela and Fra’anior?

Such power, vested in a frail Human body. Unprecedented, the Ancient One had professed.

Outside on the ledge, the Orange Dragon thundered a challenge of earth-shattering power, IT IS FINISHED! And straight afterward, so whisper-quiet that Flicker wondered if he had imagined the words, The prophecy is broken.

The swish of his huge wings, blasting dust back down the tunnel, confirmed the Dragon’s departure. After waiting as long as he could bear, Flicker darted back up the tunnel, squealing, Lia? Lia?

He wheeled on his wingtip into their cave. There, in the water, floating as if dead! The dragonet dropped on her stomach; Lia surfaced in an explosion of bubbles, coughing, laughing and exclaiming crossly at him.

Are you alive? Flicker worried.

Do I look that bad? Flicker, what was that? I … She thrust her fist against her mouth, her eyes wet with more than water. Lia’s shoulders began to shake. Why does everyone want to kill me? Why?

Hush, softly now, said Flicker, speaking as to a wounded hatchling.

He was just like Ra’aba–exactly the same eyes. I don’t understand. Her eyes rose in a mute appeal the dragonet knew he could never answer. In those smoky green depths, he saw what squeezed his chest–an awareness of mortality, fresh and raw, as if the Dragon had scored them both with bloody wounds. She seemed soul-haunted. I don’t understand, Flicker, Hualiama repeated. Can Humans and Dragons share the same spirit? How did he know I was here?

The dragonets of my warren must have tattled, he replied, as her words provoked a disturbance in his Dragon senses. Could this be true? A vengeful spirit of Ra’aba? Look, one thing is good in all–

“Good?” she shouted, making Flicker squeak and flare his wings in panic. “What could possibly be good about this? I’m being hunted by Dragons, Islands’ sakes, and I’ve no idea why! I’m stuck on this stupid Island–”

Hush. We need to be certain he’s gone.

Aye. Though her eyes still registered distress, Lia reached out to stroke his neck. Flicker, I’ve no words to thank you enough. You’re the best friend a girl could want.

You saved my hide, he muttered, rubbing his muzzle with his forepaws.

At least I’m clean, now. Lia rose from the water, standing hip-deep in the small pool as she clearly cast about for a way to put her fright behind her. Flicker would have done the same. Well, our food is all cooked, we’ll need a new bed, and I guess I’ll be weaving another sling after this. How did you misdirect that Dragon, Flicker? You’re so brave, so resourceful …

“Islands’ greetings, my name’s Lia,” said Flicker, affecting the dragonet version of a sultry pout.

Hualiama’s mouth dropped open. “You can imitate me that well?”

“Well, yes,” he smirked, emboldened by her reaction. “I am the Princess Straw-Head of Fra’anior, and my burned skeleton is lying just outside in the tunnel.”

By way of reply, Lia puffed out her chest, imitating one of Flicker’s favourite postures. “And I am an overgrown, brainless parakeet with a head stuffed full of feathers. Aren’t I the handsomest creature under the twin suns?”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

His howl of laughter came accompanied by a plume of fire.

* * * *

Late that afternoon, the Yellow moon eclipsed the waning suns and the atmosphere grew dim, despite the day’s lingering warmth. The cliff-larks, lesser blue parakeets and swarming crimson-sparrows cheeped sleepily outside. Digging through the cavern sand with her toes as she worked on her fifth sling in several weeks, Lia sliced her left big toe open on what she took initially for a sharp stone.

She unearthed a flat shell–no! Lia gasped and brushed the dirt off the Dragon’s scale. It was old, dusty and white. As white as the Dragoness in her vision.

Despite its evident age, the scale was still dagger-sharp. She cleaned it in the pool and dried the shard carefully on her brief skirt. Wow. Now the colour was pearlescent, more than merely white, like the inside of the shells she had once seen which came from the terrace lake on Gi’shior Island. Seeing how the light played upon a Dragoness’ scale, it was easy to believe in magic. It was less easy to understand how her dream could have been so accurate.

Magic? Of the two great races of the Island-World, Dragons had magic and Humans did not–apart from persistent rumours about the warrior-monks of her own Fra’anior Cluster, Hualiama reminded herself. Even King Chalcion had never succeeded in pinning down the truth about Human magic. Secret monasteries, even more secret practices. Even a King could not know all.

No, little Lia possessed no magic. What she did possess was a nose with an uncanny ability to sniff out trouble–oh, and the less helpful ability to land in that trouble right after she scented it! That was how she knew Flicker would embark on one of his midnight escapades later on that night. This time, she would follow him.

Meantime, she worried endlessly about why a Dragon should be hunting her. Surely Ra’aba was not working hand-in-glove with the Dragons? Surely, they had no interest in a royal ward apart from the sin of her trespass on their holy Isle? But she was unable to discount her intuition that the mighty Orange Dragon had been Ra’aba, or was, in some undreamed-of way, connected to him. What did she truly know of Dragons? The Dragonkind had a deep-seated aversion to meddling in the affairs of those they regarded as inferior creatures. Very occasionally, King Chalcion met with Dragon representatives on the Receiving Balcony atop the Palace. When she was younger, Lia had sometimes spied on them, but after she had been caught and chastised by Captain Ra’aba, Chalcion had put a stop to that.

She could not possibly be a threat to the Roc, could she? Heavens above and Islands below, she had no weapons, no magic, no allies, no means of transportation between the Islands …

Despite her best intentions, Lia fell asleep waiting for Flicker to depart. Her dreams filled with the Orange Dragon’s fire, which morphed unexpectedly into the yolk of an egg-sac surrounding her body, and then unexpectedly to the image of a mother Dragon crooning mellifluously over her clutch of eggs, telling the developing Dragons inside how much she loved them, even though they were not yet hatchlings. Even in her dream, she frowned. Dragons spoke without words?

This Dragoness was a blue so fathomless it was almost sable, not the white of Lia’s previous vision. As a hatchling, Hualiama broke free from the egg-shard, milky with albumen, feeling the clutch of a paw so massive it enfolded her body like a new womb. She ached beyond reason or understanding for that brooding, maternal presence.

Mother.

She never wanted to leave such a sweet dream.

However, people must awake as people, no matter what their hearts desired.

Stirring, Lia found Flicker gone. She thrust the dagger into her linger-vine belt, and tied on a small lemur-skin pouch of supplies. On an impulse, she added the White Dragoness’ scale to the contents of her pouch. Cheeky dragonet. Time for him to give up his secrets.

Given the glorious crystalline formations of the caves, no light was necessary to aid her exploration, although Lia knew she needed to take care. Flicker would not have left any trail, unless he landed for some reason. On and on she wandered, searching galleries and marking side-tunnels, expanding her knowledge of the vast underground network. These caves must honeycomb the entire underside of Ha’athior Island. What mysteries might be hidden here, she could hardly imagine, but when she stumbled upon one, it was an enormous surprise.

“A library?” Lia whispered.

The narrow tunnel she had taken opened abruptly onto a tall, circular chamber, lit from above by a spectacular, branched crystal formation, so that it was almost as bright as daylight. The walls were lined for thousands of feet up and down with scroll-racks–at least, as far as she could see, for what she had assumed was the floor, was only a platform beyond which she saw further ranks of scrolls and books and even more platforms. Crystal lights burned lower down in the library. This cavern dwarfed the Palace library. It dwarfed the Palace itself.

She expected to smell musty, mouldering records, but there was none of that. Only fresh, clean leather and the tang of treated scroll-leaf, as though the library were regularly maintained and aired out by beings now absent. Her hand flew to her mouth. The scroll-stands stood fifteen feet high!

Dragon-sized.

A library of lost Dragon lore? What a treasure trove!

However, Lia could see no way of entering from where she was, unless she wished to climb down the shelves. That seemed sacrilegious, somehow.

With great reluctance, Hualiama retraced her steps. Where would a dragonet be hiding? She had already been walking for several hours, and had passed by enough gemstones to finance her father’s kingdom for her lifetime and a few more.

Finding several of her stone arrows, Hualiama jogged wearily along the trail to where she had previously found a dark place, which seemed unique in these caves. Her steps slowed as she began to hear a faraway thudding, a monstrous drumbeat which filled her with trepidation, and a gentle breeze brought the scent of the deep caverns to her nostrils. Now, this was more dangerous. She had no light, unless–yes. Picking up a fallen shard of luminous crystal the size of a decent sword, Lia advanced into the darkness.

She came quickly to the place where she had rested before. Her footprints were still visible in the dust. But here she saw fresh dragonet tracks, claw-scratches leading away into a tunnel to her right. Ha. She was hot on Flicker’s trail. Just wait until she caught that pesky runaway! She’d wring his sinuous little neck until he bawled out his answers. No more evasions. No more sneaking off at night and sleeping the days away.

“Dragonet steaks, chargrilled to perfection,” she muttered, flexing her fingers. “Spicy dragonet stew served with purple tubers. One cheeky dragonet stuffed and mounted for a trophy!”

Pressing on, Hualiama followed the twisting tunnel for another twenty minutes, losing the trail twice, before she broke out into a vast, dark space. Where were the crystal lights? Her little spar gave her just enough illumination to spy an enormous gorge to her left hand; she maintained a respectful distance from the edge. The drumming sound was louder and clearer here, and wind seemed to rush somewhere nearby, across the gorge, although no breeze ruffled her hair.

Lia cast about for the source of the sounds. Nothing, just the pervading, warm darkness within which … a presence brooded. She rubbed her temples tiredly. Mercy. Mortal terror followed by an evening’s spelunking? Not her smartest choice of late. Perhaps her madness had started with confronting Ra’aba. Did that not prove her brain was stuffed with pollen?

Lia delved in her bag, and bit hungrily into a juicy prekki-fruit. Delicious, the nectar of life itself.

The path led on across a cavern of unknown size, before twisting up into a maze of tunnels beyond. Was that Flicker’s voice? Hualiama paused, straining her ears. There, issuing from her right. She remembered to scrape an arrow on the tunnel she entered. The darkness was absolute, now, but she tracked the sound of his chirping through a short stretch of tunnel, guiding herself with a fingertip touch, every step ventured with care, before climbing a steep slope into an open space. The light in her hand suddenly illuminated the dragonet, perched on a spire of rock in front of a black wall.

… power of visions, o Ancient One, he was saying. There’s more to this Human girl than … Lia! What’re you doing here?

Lia snapped, I might ask you the same question, you little runaway!

The dragonet seemed stricken. He glanced at the wall before replying, I come here to meditate.

Rotten liar! Lia drew breath to scorch his scaly rump with all the irritation she had built up during her long search.

NAY, LITTLE MOUSE. IT IS TIME SHE KNEW.

A vast voice boomed in her mind, which should by rights fracture the cavern’s ceiling. She gasped, “W-Who said that?”

Beyond the dragonet, light cracked through the black stone. Lia froze. Twenty feet wide, a gash of streaming light opened up, growing taller than her with startling speed, until the Human girl suddenly realised what she beheld.

“Mercy!” With a scream, her legs gave out and she tumbled several yards down the slope she had climbed to reach Flicker’s perch. An eye! Oh, mercy, mercy … she began to cover her head and tremble–no, she would remember her courage! Lia peeked beneath her upraised arm. Dragon fire swirled in the depths of that massive orb, hypnotic, multi-layered patterns shifting and coalescing, entrancing the senses. Having looked, she found herself unable to glance away. The radiance illuminated the cavern behind her, and enough to all sides that Lia discovered she stood on a rocky ledge that brought her to the height of a Dragon’s eye, while a mountain of obsidian scales towered above her and to either side until they were lost in the darkness. The eye alone was twice her height. She could not begin to imagine the rest of its body.

She felt naked, a mote trapped in a beam of the purest starlight, impossibly tiny in comparison to this vast creature which hid beneath Ha’athior Island.

Lia stammered, A-Are you a L-Land D-Dragon? Your … majesty?

The drumbeat was its hearts. The soughing of the wind, its breath. The touch of its mind cowed her, but did not strike her as evil–she sensed the presence of an ancient, utterly alien intellect, but it was not hostile.

Absurdly, Hualiama pictured herself walking into the creature’s eye.

I am Amaryllion, an Ancient Dragon. The creature’s voice resonated in her mind like an orchestra of many instruments, so dense with half-understood, half-felt tones and nuances, that Hualiama became giddy and confused. Oddly, she imagined growing slightly drunk on an Island-sized bouquet of scented flowers, such was the impression his telepathic speech produced within her. He said, Thy companion hath told me much about thee, little mouse, and I confess, I have looked forward to this day ever since thou took thy rest against my flank, and sang a poignant song, and the lilt of thy laughter tickled mine ears–the first laughter I have heard in many a year. Rise, little Human. I deserve none of thy bows, nor do I desire thy worship. I am not worthy.

Nevertheless, she sensed he tempered his power for her sake.

Uh … Lia gasped, struggling to rise. I think my knees are stuck, o Ancient–

Flicker hissed at her, Talk sense, Lia. Do not disrespect an Ancient Dragon.

You Dragons talk mind-to-mind!

Her mental exclamation brought a sense of two minds smiling at her. Lia felt a fool. The truth was so obvious. All those times Flicker had looked at her, demanding her understanding even though he had said nothing aloud, suddenly made perfect sense. Her dull, half-blind Human senses simply had not picked up his speech. Now, the portal of the Ancient Dragon’s eye seemed to have opened a similar portal within her, in which she glimpsed new facets of a world she had taken for granted.

The Ancient Dragon said, Art thou a telepath, little mouse?

Concentrating so fiercely that a migraine began to throb between her temples, the Human girl formed words in her mind, I never realised that Dragons spoke in this manner, Ancient One, but you are so powerful, so clear and easy to hear …

Thy Dragonish flows with eloquence, Lia. I remain to be convinced thy wings are not hid behind thy back.

She felt Amaryllion’s deep chuckles right in the pit of her stomach. Emboldened, Lia replied, If it were possible to grow wings from sheer yearning, mighty Amaryllion, then I would have flown away to the moons many years ago. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m only Human.

Only Human? The Dragon’s great eye bent upon her, all-conquering and omniscient, seeming to strip away the layers of her being until nothing remained hidden, leaving her soul a quivering, defenceless lump before his scrutiny–yet he did not harm her, nor steal her secrets. How many of thy people have ever found this place? Only thee. To my knowledge, thou art the only Human to have learned so much Dragonish in such a short span of time. Thou hast only defeated death itself, thrice. If this marks thee as ‘only Human’, then may I be only Human, too?

A treacherous, fey chuckle escaped Lia’s lips. She said, I think you’d have legs the size of this Island, Amaryllion.

Her voice stole away into silence. Swallowing away an unreasoning desire to flee as fast as her little legs could propel her, Hualiama instead sketched a deep Fra’aniorian bow, somewhat spoiled by the trembling of her hands. On behalf of my Island–uh, and all Humankind, if you’d allow … her formal greeting floundered in a welter of scattered thoughts and emotions. How awkward was she?

And the little Human’s mind popped like a meteorite exploding in the sky!

Lia blurted out, I’m just enormously honoured, o Ancient Dragon.

Somehow, Amaryllion’s eye conveyed the essence of a mental bow. Likewise, Hualiama of Fra’anior, I extend the most sulphurous greetings of the Dragonkind to thee. Be not afraid. Flicker told me of thy suffering today, little mouse.

Little mouse? Such a description should make a person bristle, but instead, Lia found a smile curving the corners of her mouth–an uncertain smile which doubtless betrayed the hysteria rampaging through her mind as she thought, at least the Ancient Dragon did not choose to call her ‘gnat’ or ‘gadfly’ or something worse! She was talking to a … to a Dragon-mountain … great Islands! She wobbled.

Quick as a flash, Flicker landed on her shoulder and twined himself about her neck, crooning softly. Lia found that her fear evaporated like a thunderstorm’s puddle vanishing beneath the full glare of the twin suns. Magic? It had to be. Nothing could prepare a person for such an experience, for the soul-crushing magnitude of a legendary Dragon’s physical and mental presence. Flying ralti sheep, people worshipped these creatures!

Squeezing her eyes shut, Hualiama sucked in a deep, calming breath. Flicker saved my life. Twice, now. I was not hurt, o Amaryllion, but I am … greatly shaken.

Aye, he rumbled. His fiery gaze blossomed with colours of apricot and streamers of turquoise, as if to underscore the deeply affecting gentleness she sensed in him now. To behold the visage of death is no trivial matter, little mouse. To know how narrowly one has escaped the clutches of a murderous claw, chills the very soul-fires. Tell me, how came thee to Ha’athior? Who is this Lia whom Flicker holds in such high esteem? Spare no detail in the telling, for mine ears hunger to hear thy tale.

Faintly, she said, I must start then with the unknowns of my birth, great one. For I was discovered by Dragons upon Gi’ishior Island. How I came to be found, and how I came to the royal household, I cannot say.

Lia hesitated, wondering why an Ancient Dragon should be interested in a life like hers. She was not long-lived in comparison to him, for she deduced from the timbre of his voice that he was ancient indeed, nor had she been greatly successful or notable in many endeavours. She must seem like a gnat, buzzing near his ear. Where were his ears? Somewhere up … there? Yet the great creature seemed content, and his hearts beat steadily in her hearing, and Flicker seemed unafraid–awed, but unafraid.

How much of this beast lay beneath Ha’athior Island? Part of her brain–a foolish part, admittedly–wanted to calculate his size. If Amaryllion’s eye was twenty feet across and the Orange Dragon’s evil orbs had measured perhaps eight inches apiece, or a little more, that made this Ancient Dragon, if she could assume the proportions held true, some thirty times the size of that Dragon … her mind boggled. Over half a mile long! Even her mind stammered, ‘N-N-No!’ She could not contemplate it. Imagine such a creature falling upon Fra’anior’s small, pretty city, with its lush gardens and rose-festooned walkways where tall, graceful women walked together with their Helyon silk umbrellas angled against the suns’ heat? A thousand Islands and more cried, ‘The horror!’

Sit thee down, Lia, Amaryllion invited her, as if blithely unware of her thoughts. Tarry awhile.

So that was how Lia found herself sitting cross-legged before an Ancient Dragon’s eye, with a dragonet on her lap, speaking with them, and before she knew it, the remaining hours of night had tiptoed by unnoticed.

Hualiama curled up and slept beneath Ha’athior, in the presence of an Ancient Dragon.