Dragonfriend - Marc Secchia Page 0,63

her that belied the firmness of personality expressed in her definite chin and jawline. Inniora took possession of the dragonet in a way that made Lia’s blood boil.

Ja’al said, “Inniora, maybe you should play some soothing music for Lia.”

Mutinously, Hualiama grumbled, “When I feel like soothing someone’s head off their shoulders? I think not! You heard our report, Master Jo’el. I’ m sorry, but I didn’t expect to come to Ya’arriol to be told I can flutter my eyelashes at Ra’aba and dance him off the Onyx Throne!”

“Now, Lia–”

“Ooh, it’s my deep, dark destiny.” Despite her intent to keep a lid on her volcanic emotions, words tumbled over each other in a bid to escape. “I tremble on the cusp of a ruddy volcano! This way, I toss myself into the caldera; that way, I fall into the Cloudlands. Has anyone ever heard of a maroon-coloured Dragoness? Islands’ sakes, no! Red, aye! Crimson, of course! Greens enough to forest a hundred Islands. So I’m supposed to just march up to some mythical Dragoness and demand to learn about an ancient and perverted prophecy and trust it has to do with my parentage? How in anybody’s imagination does any of this make sense? How will the Dragoness not slay me on the spot?”

From behind her, Yualiana put her hands on Hualiama’s shoulders. “Are you scared, petal?”

“If I were a Dragon I’d be spitting fire!”

Ja’al’s mother leaned close, clasping Lia exactly as Queen Shyana used to. “I’d be, too. We all understand that feeling. You try defending your children in wartime and see if you don’t know a fear that turns your bowels to water.”

“If anyone is scared, it’s Ra’aba,” said Inniora. “I’d take comfort from that, Lia.”

Comfort? Hualiama stared at her hands.

Inniora touched her arm. “What is it?”

“I buried five children today.” Her fingers trembled. She formed them into fists. Faintly, she said, “One was a little boy. He had this toy Dragon. Of his family, he was the only one left alive when we found him. I sang to him as he died in my arms.” She opened her hand. Imprinted upon her palm, she had clutched it so tightly, was an exquisitely carved wooden Dragon. “I felt so stupid and helpless. As my tears wet his face, he looked up and saw this Dragon scale that I wear, and he said, ‘May the Great Dragon comfort you, lady.’ As if I were the one who needed comforting! And then he said, ‘Why didn’t the Great Dragon save us? Why?’ And I had no answer. I held him, and whispered that he was loved.”

Master Ga’athar said, “The nature of evil is to destroy all that is precious.”

“The nature of love is that it can be wounded, but never destroyed,” said Master Jo’el. “Like a Dragon’s soul, it rises from the ashes, reincarnate.”

Lia stared at them, bereft of words.

What was it about these monks and their insights?

“You’re right,” said Ja’al. “Ra’aba just confessed to murder. How can he be the rightful King?”

Master Jo’el said, “The kings of this Island-World are hardly above murder, Ja’al. But he is not the rightful King, nor can he ever be. Our task is clear. We must restore our King to the Onyx Throne, and defeat Ra’aba’s plot, before he brings down ruin upon Dragon and Human alike with his evil collusions. We must understand this prophecy. What ruin does Ra’aba envisage, apart from that which his reign will produce?”

In the ensuing silence, the dragonet purred, “How do you murder a person twice? Is this a Human saying? Of course, I saved Lia through an incredible feat of bravery–”

“Once, Ra’aba threw me off his Dragonship,” said Lia, her mind racing. “The second time? Did Ra’aba send that Orange Dragon to roast me? The Dragon addressed me as the Princess.” Unconsciously, her voice echoed the Dragon’s growl, “‘Run. Scream, if you’d like. I’ll give you a count of three.’”

Ga’athar’s fist pounded the table again, making the plates jump. Rallon swore unhappily, while a tic jumped in Jo’el’s cheek. Yualiana laid her hands on Hualiama’s shoulders to comfort her.

Hallon pointed out, “But Ra’aba said, ‘With my own hands’.”

“Has anyone–anyone else–tried to murder you before, Hualiama?” inquired Master Jo’el. “Because it seems to me that this Orange Dragon knew you all too well.”

“Er, well, there was another Dragon who stood on me. But he turned out to be nice.”

Lia chuckled glumly as Flicker’s eyes filled with baleful fire. The dragonet complained, I’m nice. I saved your hide. That craven

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