Her voice kept cracking. “I’m a mess,” Lia apologised. “I’m sorry, Flicker.”
He said, It isn’t looking good, is it?
“We’re close to Ha’athior, darling friend. Hold on just a little longer …”
I’m sorry I won’t get to see you fulfil the prophecy. Yet I will ask Amaryllion a boon. If even in death I can be with you, then I will be content. Lia nodded, although she did not understand. The dragonet added, ‘Let my soul take wing upon dawn’s twin fires … and fly to thee.’ He breathed, Fly far and free, my Hualiama.
After that, Flicker had no more strength. Lia sang them around the northern shore of Ha’athior, cradling him to her bosom as best she could to keep out the wind and the rain.
Alas for the far shores, my heart, my third heart,
Alas for the stars, illuming thy doom …
To the dragonet, she said, Thou art my third heart.
Perhaps he smiled.
Grandion screamed across Ha’athior’s volcanic slopes and over the western shore without once stinting on pouring out his utmost power. They shot down the cliff so fast that the rain turned into stinging pellets. Then Hualiama realised that it was hail. The Tourmaline Dragon shielded her with his left forepaw. Still, she curled lower over Flicker and directed Grandion to the lower cave entrance, which lay closest to Amaryllion’s lair.
Into the mountain she raced, a Human girl bearing a precious bundle, down through ravines and crystalline geodes and glorious magical crystals to the Ancient Dragon’s resting place, crying, “Hold on, Flicker! Amaryllion, Amaryllion, Amaryllion!”
I am present, little mouse.
And Lia knew it was too late.
Her friend’s great orb opened, and Hualiama ducked away from him, unable to bear the destruction of her last hope. She moaned, “Please …”
“His spirit flies, little mouse,” Amaryllion rumbled. Infinitely mellifluous and compassionate, his voice enwrapped her like a mother’s hands gentle upon her babe. “Show me what transpired.”
Falling to her knees with a desolate groan, Hualiama summoned her memories. She could not still the shaking of her shoulders. Could Amaryllion hear through her sobbing?
Shortly, the Ancient Dragon responded, “Truly, this dragonet saved both thy life and thy kingdom, holding in abeyance by his courage the power of ruzal and Ra’aba’s dreadful revenge. Allow me to commune a moment with what remains of Flicker’s spirit-fire.”
Her grief rivalled the breadth and depth of the Cloudlands, ravaging her spirit, wounding her body by its force.
“There is something Flicker wished for thee, Hualiama. A name.”
“A name, mighty Dragon?” she sniffed, thinking of all the names he used to chirp at her. Straw-head and flat-face and slow slug …
None of those. Amaryllion read her thoughts effortlessly. His mental voice deepened, rushing like vast rivers in her mind. In recognition of thy noble deeds and the virtues of thy soul, in the most Dragonish tradition, Flicker proposed a new name for thee, Hualiama. I concur. Truly, this name did spring to my mind as I considered the flight of thy life. Even since I have known thee, thou hast grown mighty in spirit and deed.
Thou art a friend to Dragons, Hualiama of Fra’anior, from the smallest to the greatest, and not only in the making of friends, but in knowing and serving and devoting thyself to the Dragonkind. Therefore it is with great pride that I, Amaryllion Fireborn, last of the Ancient Dragons, name thee ‘Dragonfriend’. May the courage of this little dragonet live on in thee.
Oh my darling Flicker, Lia smiled through her weeping. Even at the last your spirit shines. How can I ever repay you? A dragonet’s chuckle seemed to tinkle somewhere, unseen.
To Amaryllion, she whispered, Thank you. Is he truly gone?
His body has perished. His soul flies forever with the fires of the Dragonkind, little mouse.
She wept harder.
Chapter 32: Asleep with Dragons
WHEN HUALIAMA EMERGED from the caverns, hours later, she had no need to speak. Grandion threw back his head and uttered a cry she had never heard from a Dragon. It began as an earthquake-low rumbling in his chest, rising into a descant of such piercing sweetness, it brought fresh tears to her eyes. Lia thought she would never cry again. Now the Dragon grieved, too.
“His spirit had already flown?” Grandion asked.
Lia pressed against his lowered muzzle, shivering. “Almost. Amaryllion said he spoke with Flicker’s fire-spirit. Is that even possible?”
“We Dragons should leave a few secrets unplumbed by the ever-inquisitive Humankind,” Grandion said. “Aye, it is possible, briefly. What else did the Ancient Dragon say?”