circles racing outward, perturbing and penetrating the magical fabric of the Island-World.
“He’s behind those clouds,” she said, pointing.
Her legs crumpled.
Next she knew, Master Jo’el held her in his arms, his lean frame surprisingly strong. His smile touched his features with terrible beauty, at once majestic and profound. He said, “We begin to discern the Great Dragon’s will for your life, Hualiama. There comes now a time of hiding and training, of decoding and learning the secret ways, and for this, you will work harder than ever before in your life. It will change you, Lia. That I can promise.”
Lia only knew that her mind soaked up the essence of the Master’s words like dry soil desperate for nurturing rain, while her ears seemed so wide open, she could hear his thoughts behind the sounds uttered by his vocal cords.
Jo’el’s smile gentled. “What you just did takes most Masters many years to learn. Yet that is the way of Hualiama, is it not? She is never content to give just half of her life-Island. Nay, Lia would summon even the impossible to her aid. Look, the dragonet comes.”
Lia, Lia, wailed Flicker, shooting back to the Dragonship in a blur of wings and talons. What was that magic? It was you, Lia! It was … oh!
Master Jo’el eased her to her feet. “She is well, dragonet. Just a little too enthusiastic, that’s all.”
Of course, Flicker’s eyes filled with fire. “I cannot leave your side but for a second and you are sticking your wings into danger. You are–what’s the word …”
“Incorrigible?” suggested the Master.
“Worse than incorrigible!” he snapped, winding his body around her neck. His eyes, churning faster than Lia had ever seen them with swirls of yellow flame, glared at her from mere inches away. “What did you do? What did you see? Truly, your behaviour is–”
Inniora supplied, “Intolerable? Insufferable? Insupportable?”
“Any of those words!” howled the dragonet. “All of them!”
Just then, the gloomy clouds clinging to Ha’athior’s slopes shifted slightly, revealing the unmistakable oblong shapes of two Dragonships leaving their volcano. Twin purple flags fluttered behind the foremast of each vessel. No Human eye could see the detail from that distance, but they knew the symbols of royal Fra’anior–the volcano for the royal house, and the windroc for Ra’aba.
The Roc had been visiting. What ill did this bode for the monastery?
* * * *
In the caves deep beneath the volcano lay a secret complex comprised of living quarters, training facilities, and the great libraries of Human and Dragon lore. Here, Lia and Inniora set up new rooms, and Lia began her training.
“This is Master Khoyal of Archion Island,” Master Jo’el introduced them. “He is the only master with first-hand knowledge of the art of Nuyallith.”
Lia stared at the age-bowed monk. He moved as though his hips were fused in place–how was he meant to teach her to dance? She scuffed the sand with her toes, looking around the large but low-ceilinged training chamber as she considered how to respond.
Master Khoyal said to Jo’el, “I’m afraid ‘first-hand’ is an inappropriate descriptor, young man.” Lia blinked–if Master Jo’el was young man, what did that make her? A tadpole wriggling in her mother’s womb? His rheumy eyes turned upon the royal ward. “You’re a Princess, yet not. How shall I call you? Aye, your beauty blows as the gentle winds upon the misted terrace lakes of my home Island. I shall call you ‘zephyr’.”
Whatever was wrong with the name ‘Lia’?
Khoyal said, “My great-grandfather was a master of Nuyallith. I have from him many scrolls of lore, which for reason of their great age will require copying to fresh scrolls. That will be your first labour, zephyr. Jo’el, my boy, we’ll need desks, ink and quills … over there. We shall set aside that chamber for study. I need rope. A laver of water to be set here in the cavern floor. Quick as a dragonet, boy!”
Hualiama stifled a giggle that threatened to land her in hot lava with Master Jo’el.
“Zephyr!” said Khoyal, clicking his fingers rudely at her. “You will swim the underground lake two hundred times every day. We’ll need bars for gymnastic exercises–boy, are you still standing there? Where’s that little scamp, your nephew, with my scrolls?”
Master Jo’el scurried off.
Lia nodded. She had seen the underground lake, through a short tunnel off the cavern where they berthed and maintained the Dragonships. It had to be five hundred feet across if it was an inch. The Master would have her swimming miles every