him later, after I’ve honoured Flicker. I’m afraid I wasn’t very coherent. I just … ache.” Lia looked to the far horizon, visible now that the storm had blown over. Tiny jewelled rainbows hung over the vegetation nearby. “Grandion, will you fly me up to the White Dragoness’ cave? I wish to honour Flicker there.”
“Gladly, my Rider. We will honour him together.”
Hualiama slid into her customary position between Grandion’s spine spikes. Was this the last time? When he flew away, would the Tourmaline Dragon remember a Human girl? Better he found a sweet Dragoness to grace his roost. Better this friendship ended, for the good of all.
Grandion bore them aloft with stately majesty.
Lia clasped the dragonet’s body in her lap, unable and unwilling to give Flicker up as yet.
Long before they reached the cave, dragonets began to join them in their flight, first in ones and twos, and then in their dozens. Silently, they shadowed Grandion and Hualiama to their landing on the ledge. The Tourmaline Dragon’s eyes were alight, resplendent, awed.
Dragonets covered the ledge in a scintillating blanket of Dragonflesh. They hung on every boulder and bush and crevice on the cliff above and all around the cave. More dragonets, unable to find room to land, circled in the air just above the ledge.
Lia gasped, “They must number five thousand! Ten!”
Every dragonet of Ha’athior who is yet able to fly, said a voice Hualiama remembered with a shudder. Aye, Human creature, I am Lyrica, warren-mother of our dead kindred you hold in your arms. The oldest and largest dragonet Lia had ever seen, Lyrica had to measure five feet across her wingtips, and her eyes appeared rheumy with age. Yet the power of her mental voice was unshakable. Mother Lyrica said, Will you share your memories with us, that we might judge what has been?
Gravely, Hualiama bowed from her seat upon Grandion’s back. Today, I wish to honour a brave and noble spirit, a dragonet I was privileged to call my friend.
The red dragonet inclined her head ceremoniously. As the Ancient One charged us, we join you in honouring our warren-mate. Never have the dragonets sung the fire-songs with one of the Humankind.
Her tone was mildly censorious. When a space miraculously cleared for landing, Grandion put down and helped Hualiama dismount. Kneeling, she placed Flicker’s body between her and Mother Lyrica. The dragonets fell silent. Even the tiniest fledglings quietened their habitual chattering and chirping. A sea of expectant eyes fixed upon her.
Drawing a deep breath to quell her nerves, Lia said, The first touch I knew of this dragonet’s paw, was that which saved my life. As was the last. To this dragonet, I owe the very air I breathe. He named me Dragonfriend. But I confess, it was he who taught me the true meaning of friendship.
I will tell you what I knew of Flicker, may his soul fly as Dragon fire, forever.
* * * *
When, late that afternoon, the last of the sacred fire-songs had been sung, Hualiama interred Flicker in the White Dragoness’ cave, beside the pool where they had played and sung together. She built a cairn of the finest gemstones to cover his body. Grandion wafted his Dragon-fire and magic over the pile, melting the gemstones into a many-hued casement for the dragonet. A grave fit for royalty.
Then, Grandion took his leave.
Wings outspread, tilting forward off the precipice, the Tourmaline Dragon suddenly pulled up and turned to her. “One last thing, Lia. That day by the pool, when you were bitten by ants. And I acted … weird.”
Hualiama blushed. “Grandion, don’t.”
He said earnestly, “That was wrong–at least, how I felt at that moment, was wrong. The rest was real. When you stood in the water clad in just your hide and told me who you are, it was …” Grandion swallowed, while her mind shrieked, ‘Humiliating? Terrifying? Flattering yet acutely disturbing?’ “It was a revelation.”
Now Lia wished she could immolate herself in a curl of flame. “Grandion, please. You’re embarrassing me.”
“No, you don’t understand. I put that badly.” Uttering an affectionate growl, the formidable Dragon slipped a talon beneath her chin to raise her eyes to his. Lia resisted, futile a gesture as that was. “Hualiama, I saw you in that moment as a desirable object–as a Dragon might lust after a bauble or a fine jewel–and not as a living soul. For all my fine talk, that day I learned that my third heart still regarded you somewhat as a pet, or