forward beneath Sapphurion’s startled swipe and drove in hard, stabbing her father in the gut, in almost exactly the same place he had stabbed her with an Immadian forked dagger all those months before.
Her scream rose to a ragged pitch, as if torn from her chest by a Dragon’s talons. “You killed him! You killed my friend!”
A paw plucked Lia into its irresistible grasp. “Fierce little hatchling!” exclaimed the Blue Dragon leader, smoothing out an unfortunate smile at her antics. “Peace, little one. Peace!”
“No! Oh, please, Flicker–let me go!”
Sapphurion shook Hualiama for emphasis as he snarled, “I will take this man to meet Dragon justice, that I promise you, little one. Go see to your pet. It is over.”
“Pet?” Lia shook her head absently, hating Sapphurion. She hated the anguish in her heart, deeper than the Islands reached beneath the Cloudlands. “He’s never been anyone’s pet.”
King Chalcion was saying something about the state of the city. Griping. Her feet touched the ground, but had no feeling left in them. Lia moved to Flicker; knelt by his side. She glanced back to see Ra’aba trapped in the Blue Dragon’s paw, slumped in defeat. Was it truly over? How could she ever have imagined that beast was her father?
Over Lia’s back, Sapphurion called to Chalcion, “Be grateful for the restoration of your Onyx Throne, o King of Fra’anior, and take pride in a daughter whose mighty deeds have won this day. I will delegate a Dragonwing of Brown Dragons to help with the rebuilding of your city, and Greens and Reds to help clear the streets.”
As the Blue Dragon began to turn away, Lia blurted out, “O Sapphurion, is there nothing that can be done for Flicker?”
The great eyes gleamed regretfully, red-tinged. “I sorrow with thee. Seldom has a nobler paw, nor a braver deed, graced the annals of our Island-World. Honour him well.”
“But … Qualiana?”
Sapphurion’s muzzle lowered, yet still, he addressed her from a height of over fifteen feet. He growled, “My mate was unable to make the flight, little one. We had our own problems back at Gi’ishior. Were it not for the exploits of my shell-son, all would have been lost.”
He said, Come home, Grandion. You are most welcome.
Grandion arched his fang-punctured neck, showing his obedience and gratitude. I shall follow as soon as I am able, noble shell-father.
The Dragons began to lift off in twos and threes, buffeting the small crowd gathered atop the Human Royal Palace. Monks stood shoulder to shoulder with Royal Guards. Hualiama’s eyes briefly followed Sapphurion’s ascent, Ra’aba’s solitary form grasped in his right forepaw. Dragon justice? She had been fully prepared to give her father all the justice he deserved. Even that had been stolen from her. Little Lia had held out her hand, and grasped nothing.
Nobody cared for a dragonet, not even one who had just saved the King’s life.
Oh, Flicker … Tearing off her tunic top, Hualiama tenderly wrapped his ruined body, trying to stanch the bleeding. Incredibly, the dragonet still breathed. Are you in pain, darling?
He said, Not … much.
The dragonet’s eyes remained closed, his flanks rising and falling too rapidly. Never in her life had Lia imagined a pain like this, a pain akin to the white-hot core of a Dragon’s fire, yet which consumed utterly without leaving any visible mark. The entire Island-World should weep with her, yet what she saw were men and women dazedly returning to normal life, despite the wreckage. Grandion’s brethren winged away, already receding into the swirling vapours crowning Fra’anior’s caldera. The dawn was bright and fair. It felt so wrong.
Flicker’s sacrifice had purchased this?
Grandion offered Hualiama his paw. Come, my Rider. There’s only one who can help him now.
She stared up at him. Dragons were fire, yet his emotions radiated from pellucid pools which mirrored the cobalt hues of the early day. Her mind became still. Grief gleamed, acknowledging her loss. Hualiama knew that one Dragon saw her truly, down to the living pith of her innermost being.
Her shoulders bobbed. We can’t. All these people …
I will shield us. I have not my father’s mastery of the art, but it will suffice. It must.
Flicker’s body seemed so tiny in her arms, so broken. The cloth was already sodden. Lia stepped into Grandion’s paw and allowed him to fall away off the palace roof, to be whisked through the air at an increasing velocity, until Dragon and Rider seared the dawn skies with a fire of their own.