Ja’al. What I find strange, is how Ra’aba even found the prophecy in the first instance. And why he’s so afraid of it. I wondered if Ianthine might have twisted his mind somehow … to function as her tool while she’s in exile?”
“May the Great Dragon forefend!” Master Jo’el exclaimed.
Ja’al hissed, “A good man twisted to evil? You think a man who sends soldiers to slaughter children is secretly misunderstood? You were there, Lia! You buried his victims!” Lia flushed at the depth of disgust in Ja’al’s voice. “Now he’s good? Mercy, how naïve and stupid can a girl be?”
Dragon and dragonet snarled at him, but Lia leaped in at once, Grandion, Flicker … it’s alright.
Her fingers touched her pouch where she stored the child’s wooden Dragon. She said, “Ja’al has a right to his opinions. I haven’t forgotten. But I’m also aware of the power of ruzal. You haven’t met Ianthine. You and I both know that some Dragons have mind powers.” Powers enough to control a Human being? Of that she had no doubt, but she was not about to say so in front of Grandion. “You forget that the Nameless Man detected the mark of Ianthine’s claw upon my life, and that’s fifteen years after the fact. I’ll admit it’s unlikely, but we have to give Ra’aba a chance.”
The young monk looked unhappily around the circle. “Don’t you see Ianthine’s ploy? Asserting that Ra’aba is her father weakens Hualiama’s hand against him. Doubt has crept in.” He flinched at Lia’s low cry of distress, but added steadily, “I’m sorry if my words hurt you, Lia, but friends sometimes have to be prepared to voice the hard truths. Or they are no friends at all.”
When she raised her gaze to meet his, it was with moist eyes but a firm chin. “Thank you, Ja’al. The reason I am certain is founded on my dream of my mother, Azziala. I dreamed details that no imagination of mine could possibly have served up. She confirmed Ra’aba is my father. I know that Ianthine gave my mother at least part of the lore of ruzal, or something similar. She said, ‘mastering this will give you power over Dragons.’ Doesn’t that uncannily mirror what you told me of the war in the East, Grandion? That the Humans there demonstrate an inexplicable power over Dragons?”
Grandion lay utterly still. Hualiama could not read his emotions, for it was as if the windows of his soul were shuttered, even though his eyes were wide open and filled with dark fire.
Her instinct told her that the Tourmaline Dragon was fully primed to kill someone, or something. The wrong whisper would provoke an Island-shattering outburst of violence.
What had Ianthine aimed to achieve by gifting Azziala such a power against the Dragonkind? What kind of woman was Azziala, to use that power? Suddenly, Lia’s clothes seemed too hot. Mercy. The long dreamed-of prospect of knowing her parents grew less palatable by the hour! She began to growl like a Dragoness, caught an odd look from Flicker, and stopped.
Hualiama said, “I do doubt my dreams, in case you’re wondering. But they also seem to be frighteningly accurate–at least the vivid ones, the ones I remember.”
“Good,” said Master Jo’el, unexpectedly. “How many hours before the King’s Dragonship reaches us, Lia?”
“Ten to eleven,” she said.
“Even better!” Now he seemed cheerful, Lia thought, frowning at the Master. “There is time for more talk, but now, we must lay our plans and strategies. Grandion, will you entreat the Dragon Elders on our behalf?”
“Aye, but I can make no promises.”
Hualiama weighed his response, the aggression barely concealed beneath his calm demeanour. Something in their conversation had touched a raw nerve in the Dragon. Reaching out, she laid her palm flat against his muzzle. Her eyes crinkled into a smile. “Not even one, my Dragon?”
The stillness between them communicated much.
Stirring, the Tourmaline Dragon said, “Aye, precious Rider, there is one promise to be made, born in an oath of fire and magic.” Had Master Jo’el possessed hair on his head, Lia grinned inwardly, but also with a measure of fright, his eyebrows would have taken refuge in that thicket long before. Grandion continued, “Even if no other will fly to your aid, I will come. For the creatures which dwell in the Palace of Fra’anior are the mortal enemies of Dragonkind. I will smite them with tooth and claw until in a bleating panic, they flee into the very Cloudlands. And I will honour my