leather armour, armed to the teeth with swords, javelins and longbows, stared down at them from the gantries abutting the Dragonships’ cabins.
I’ll burn them all, growled Grandion.
From the corner of her mouth, Hualiama whispered, No. Lie still, Grandion, and use your magic to look old.
The Dragon snorted, What?
Old. Decrepit, said Flicker. Senile as a mouldy bat–
I’m going to start killing things any second!
Hush, just do it, said Lia. Magic rippled as the Dragon deployed his wiles.
“Islands greetings, noble sirs,” she called, gaily. “What fair breeze brings thee to my little dell? Is that a flying bird machine?”
“It’s a Dragonship,” said the man.
“Ooh, I’ve got a Dragon.” Lia bounced up and down on her toes. Interesting, thought Flicker. A bit of jiggling and that poor man’s jaw sagged like a Dragon taking his widest yawn. “Look, isn’t he cute and adorable? I call him Grandion. It’s a bit of a silly name for such a timeworn, snaggletoothed beast–”
Grandion clamped his jaw shut. Still, fire leaked around his fangs and the roar of his belly fires was unmistakable.
“He sounds dangerous,” said the officer, looking Hualiama up and down with an appreciative grin. Flicker’s claws clenched. He would perpetrate a murder or two of his own if that carried on!
“He has the most terrible indigestion.” Lia gave the man a silly wave and fluttered her eyelashes, ignoring Grandion’s fang-grinding response right behind her. “Ooh, you’re kind of cute too. Do you want to come down and play with me?”
To Flicker’s fascination, the man’s colour flushed to a rich beet-red. Hoots of laughter sounded from the gantries of the Dragonships above as the soldiers relaxed; hands dropped from their weapons. A few began calling out ribald suggestions to the increasingly steamed officer. “Bring her up, sir!” “I want to play, pick me.” “Sir, why don’t we kill the Dragon?” “She’s a simpleton, you idiot.” “Simply volcanic.”
“Stand down!” he called to his men. “Where are you from, girl?”
Hualiama made a few small circles in the grass with her big toe as she gazed demurely up at the officer. “Just over there.” She flapped her hand absently. “Can’t you play with me? The Dragon’s nice. He’s two hundred years old and he tells nice stories, but he sleeps most of the time. I’m so lonely.”
“Oh, my Islands!” yelled one of the soldiers, from a Dragonship which was directly overhead now, casting a shadow over Lia. “Can I be lost on this Island, sir? Pleeeeeeeeaaassse?”
Another voice called, “Permission to shoot the Dragon, sir?”
“We’ll see plenty more Dragons at Fra’anior!” snapped the officer. “Stay at your posts. Stand down, but stay alert.”
Several of the men took to advancing creative ideas about the games they might like to play with Lia. The bold one shouted, “O beauteous maiden of the Isles, we are soldiers from the Yorbik Free Federation, and we’ll come back this way once we’ve finished making our demands of the Dragons at Gi’ishior. Remember me, my suns-shine! My name is–”
“Attention, soldier!” A gruff bark silenced them all. “What’s the meaning of this? Giving away military secrets?”
The brown-shirted one protested volubly to the new arrival, an older Human man wearing golden bands on his arms that appeared to raise his status in the hierarchy. Flicker’s grin widened as the high one summarily ordered his inferior to take a double shift on the turbines to work off his excess energy. His Lia could certainly provoke these Human males! A flick of her wings, a spark from those fiery green eyes … any Dragoness could take lessons from this one.
Then, golden-bands leaned over the side of his vessel, scanning the scene with alert interest. “A feeble old Dragon and a girl … who happens to match the description of a lost Princess of Fra’anior?”
No fool, he! Flicker almost rushed over to Lia; he knew her so well now, he had no need to hear her heart bolting off like a startled lemur scenting a hunting dragonet, to recognise her dismay. A pause of wing-tearing horror ensued, the dragonet frozen, the Dragonship slowly drifting by, the hard-eyed man’s gaze fixed upon Lia.
Her face screwed up in apparent endeavour. “Where’s franor … frilly … frallior?” When no-one answered, Lia kicked a tuft of grass with a petulant cry, “Mean boys! Nobody wants to play with me.” She stomped off a few steps, muttering crossly.
The senior man shook his head. “Nah. No chance.”
Lia was doing an excellent impression of a thumb-sucking Human youngster Flicker had once seen while snooping about their dwelling.