a pretty, two-legged snack she was. What is this question, this deception, this voice from my past?”
Poor Lia! Her reflexive shudder almost threw Flicker off her shoulder. Like him, she probably did not know what to believe, because the Maroon Dragoness’ tone was so hateful and filled with deliberate malice, it was as though she wished to cast verbal barbs and twist them into the flesh of her victim with the air of an expert torturer.
“I wish a boon, Ianthine,” said Hualiama, unsteadily. “You know something of my parents. I wish to learn who they are.”
“And what does it offer old Ianthine?” Flicker stiffened in concert with his perch. “Poor, pathetic Ianthine,” she whined. “She suffers greatly. A boon requires a payment, child. Make an offer.”
“I-I have some jewels h-here–”
“No, not jewels,” hissed the Maroon Dragoness. “Offer old Ianthine something more … interesting. You have power, child, more than you can imagine. Spend it wisely.”
Ianthine’s cackles were swallowed up in the organic morass of her chamber. Lia’s head swivelled as she took in her surroundings, buying herself time to think. Finally, she said, “I have nought, old Dragoness, but I am moved by your plight. I shall offer you a favour, as is common amongst the Dragonkind.”
“I accept!”
Flicker felt his eyes darken with horror. Every scale on his body tingled. The Dragoness’ glee, the instant response–what harm did she envisage for Hualiama? Grandion’s fires surged in a low rumble as the Dragon drew closer to Lia, curling his forepaw protectively over her shoulder.
“Offer her something else,” Flicker urged.
“Too late.” Ianthine continued to laugh. “It holds in its frail Human form the key, all the power I need to break free from this prison built by small-minded Dragons of limited understanding. Strange company Humans keep these days. A pretty Dragon on a leash, and a dragonet who shadows his mind? Deceitful little creature. I accept. Here is my boon, Human. Its mother? A trickster, a vile, veiled enchantress was she, who gave her babe to old Ianthine. Maybe I ate her. Maybe her twin, the madwoman. The envoy of the Dragon-haters, she came to Gi’ishior.”
So Lia was perhaps born on Gi’ishior, and the Human girl’s shell-mother gave her up to Ianthine? The dragonet’s mind reeled as he considered this. But Ianthine was not finished yet. Her forepaw lifted, the longest talon outthrust from its retractable sheath to tap Lia’s belly.
“Here, it is scarred. The one who did this, he is the father.”
Chapter 23: The Longest Flight
“NO!” HUALIAMA’S SHRIEK tore through the cavern. “You lie! You vile, wicked filth!” Falling to her knees, she moaned, “Nooooo … please, it’s not true. Tell me it’s not true.”
She knew her pleading was useless, yet Lia clung to hope as a drowning woman clinging to a rope. Sweat oozed from her brow. It trickled down her body in droplets as thick as blood. She stared at Ianthine, recognising the truth before the Maroon Dragoness spoke.
“Confuses me, it does. Where is the lie? It comes with an innocent face, unaware of the secrets locked within its breast. The truth is told.” The Maroon Dragoness rocked back and forth on her paws, keening, “Its mother tortured old Ianthine, she did. She paid in blood and the soul of a babe she hated, a child spawned in pain and violation. Only the truth could sear such a delicious, writhing agony into its darkling spirit, as it bows before Ianthine’s knowledge. Aye, history stands immutable. He who tossed it to the windrocs, he is its father.”
Hot vomit laced with blood spewed out of Lia’s mouth. She was dimly aware of Grandion bellowing at Ianthine, of the Maroon Dragoness laughing uproariously at his futile, fire-spitting rage. Her power held the younger Dragon as helpless as a newborn hatchling. Then, a vast, crushing force ejected them from the cave as though Ianthine had hurled them outside with an invisible paw. Lia toppled into Grandion’s grasp. Bearing the dragonet in one paw and the Human girl in the other, the Tourmaline Dragon winged away up the steep staircase of recumbent rock towers, fire frothing from his mouth in shock and outrage.
For a time, Hualiama drooped insensate within the cage of Grandion’s talons.
Cool night air roused her at last. Grandion had brought them out of pitch blackness into the dull, grey world of the Spits. Perched upon a cliff ledge beside a trickle of water, he laid Lia down to check her condition. Flicker’s muzzle hove into view.