easily have doubled as paving stones, tossed the garment to the water’s edge, and then gracefully upended as he ‘dived’ into the cool volcanic lake. Lia wanted to hit somebody or something. Why could she not enjoy that power? And what madness had bitten the serious young monk? Now he was the leader of all the mischief-making? She certainly preferred this Ja’al to the unsmiling one.
Later, at lunch, Hualiama’s task was to wait on the Masters at their table, serving them fresh berry juices and wines, a selection of freshly baked breads, and spicy baked trout from the lake.
Ja’al whispered in her ear.
“No … no!” stammered Lia, turning a hot shade of pink. “I couldn’t.”
“It’s his birthday.”
“I am not singing–”
“Well, we learned the Dragons’ Praise birthday song, didn’t we?”
Lia pinched his arm. “Have I told you how little I like you?”
“Not more than ten times since this morning.” Ja’al drew a hand-harp from behind his back. “Oh, look, I just happen to have an instrument with me. Shall I play for you, or would you prefer to accompany yourself?”
“I’d prefer to bite you.” Her treacherous mind served up an image of Ja’al just before he dived into the lake. Perhaps something other than a bite was in order …
Ja’al strummed an overly dramatic set of chords upon his harp, quieting the dining hall. “Masters, tutors and apprentices,” he called. “Today is Master Jo’el’s birthday. We apprentices have arranged a special surprise. Hualiama will sing the Dragons’ Praise for our noble Master Jo’el, may the sulphurous fires of the Great Dragon himself ever burn within him.”
He made to pick out a chord, when the entire apprentice class yelled, “Stand up!”
“Oh, aye, up on this bench,” he said.
Lia bit the inside of her cheek as she took Ja’al’s hand to climb up onto the bench. He had elegant hands, which seemed to betray the gentility of his heart, and her disloyal fingers lingered on his before she allowed her hand to drop.
With a flash of those depthless eyes, Ja’al said, “And …”
“We can’t see her!”
“Aren’t they so mean?” he whispered to Lia, under cover of the laughter filling their great underground hall. “Up on the table with you.”
Oh, she was definitely going to have Amaryllion visit! Cheeks burning fit to combust, Lia stepped up onto the long trestle table. There was worse to come.
Their final dare was to kiss Master Jo’el on the cheek.
Chapter 11: Avalanche
ON THE EVENING of her rest day, four weeks later, Lia sat on the highest point of the volcano’s rim wall, resting her back against a boulder. To her left hand, the still crater-lake collected the last ruddy fires of suns-set, as darkly mysterious as Ja’al’s eyes, yet gilded with strands of twin-suns fire. Dragonets dive-bombed the waters in search of fish. Close at hand, she saw a mother dragonet teaching three hatchlings the basics of flight, angling her wings in an instructional manner. To her right hand, the tangled green wall of Ha’athior Island, four miles from its base to the cooler heights up top, curved away northward until it grew misted with distance and height. She could never tire of this view.
Moodily, she wondered which females Flicker was chasing this time.
She was stuck in a volcano stuffed to the rim with gorgeous, fit young monks, all of whom intended to make vows to the Great Dragon. Picking up a small stone, Lia lobbed it crossly into the lake. Celibacy. What was the point, as Flicker had inquired, a trifle archly? She admired their religion. They were so dedicated and frugal, and yet in an indefinable way, full of life and Dragon fire. She could not spoil that. Not even if she knew that her great Dragon, Amaryllion, wanted no worship.
Her Ancient Dragon? My, how the idea tickled her tongue. His counsel that morning had been to be patient, to bide her time and learn from the monks. Ha. He obviously had neither seen her daily humiliation in the arena, nor fathomed the storms in her heart whenever she dared to consider her family’s fate.
A soft footfall made Lia startle. “Ja’al.”
Gathering his robe about him, the young monk sat down on the boulder beside her, almost but not quite touching her arm. “Islands’ greetings, Princess,” he said, drolly. “To which Islands do thy thoughts soar?”
Lia kept her eyes downcast. “Tomorrow’s expedition.”
“Ah. We go to find the Nameless Man. If you’re wondering, Master Jo’el has assigned you the twin slabs of granite as bodyguards.”