rumbled, I wish to meet with thee tonight. Bring he who speaks his vows. Now, Fra’anior shall bestow honour upon him.
Having entered the Chamber of Dragons through a secret tunnel, Hualiama, Flicker and Inniora stood concealed behind a rich tapestry to observe proceedings. Ja’al and his family knew they were present, but none of the other monks knew. Flicker had snidely advised Lia of legions of young monks wailing and lamenting in the halls for weeks as they mourned her absence. Lia snidely introduced her elbow to his ribs.
The Chamber was a unique meeting-place. A rough-hewn, round obsidian table dominated the room, surrounded by chairs each carved of a single monolithic block of stone or gemstone which represented a Dragon’s colour–ruby, emerald, sapphire, onyx, jade, a brown stone she did not recognise, and a white that could be diamond, only Lia could not imagine any diamond being large enough to seat a person in comfort. Ja’al stood at the far end of the room, between the twin golden statues of Dragons, their forepaws raised and clasped together to form an archway above his head.
JA’AL OF FRA’ANIOR!
This time, the room did quake. Hualiama grabbed Flicker as he voiced an involuntary squeak; his talons stabbed her right bicep, but she kept silent. Every monk gasped except for Master Jo’el, who looked gallingly unperturbed.
KNEEL, JA’AL.
Somehow, Lia sensed that this new voice, fraught with ageless power and majesty, spoke through Amaryllion. How could this be? Where did Fra’anior speak from, and what gave that most kingly of Ancient Dragons the ability to speak through space and perhaps even time, to interrupt at this very moment?
Ja’al knelt as though his knees had felt a scythe.
Great Dragon? He fell face-down. How may I serve thee?
I accept thy vows, thundered Fra’anior, the many-headed Black Dragon of legend. I bless thee with wisdom and Dragon fire, and with the power to seek justice for my people. For all are mine, Human and Dragon alike. Care for these my children, as I shall surely care for thee. I name thee Ja’al the Just, the divider of truth. Know that my paw shall rest upon thy shoulder all of thy days.
With that, the mighty voice vanished.
Stunning. Those gathered departed in reverential silence.
* * * *
Inniora’s back and right arm flexed, every muscle leaping into definition as she strained upward to tuck her chin briefly over the exercise bar. “Five.”
“Roaring rajals, would you look at her?” grumbled Hualiama. “What girl in their right mind manages five one-handed pull-ups in a row, Flicker?”
“Not you,” said the dragonet, helpfully.
“Oh, go chase a mosquito somewhere! Better yet, how’s about fishing up a few trout for dinner?”
“My mother says I’m scrawny enough to give her a case of the blister-fever,” said Inniora, dropping lithely to the ground. “Your turn.”
“Scrawny? You’re all muscle and bone.”
Lia found herself the recipient of a quirky grimace. Inniora said, “It’s ralti-stupid, I know, but I’d trade four inches of height and a sackweight of muscle any day for a few of your curves.” The dragonet sniggered; Lia mentally suggested he tie his neck in a knot. “Though, my mother was aggrieved that any Princess should look so manly. She’s promised to alter some clothes for you.”
“Manly? Hualiama?” Flicker was laughing so hard, he had a case of the fiery hiccoughs.
“Flicker, this is girl talk.” Lia pointed at the cave entrance. “Trout!”
Oh, can’t I talk clothes and curves with you, Human girl? It’s such fun–
“Get out!”
He sulked out. Meantime, Lia regarded the bars of their exercise frame with a jaundiced eye, trying to stop blushing up a storm. She was developing a healthy hatred for their daily regimen, and that dragonet and his penchant for stirring up trouble … Inniora pasted a diplomatic half-smile on her lips, but Lia sensed she was howling with mirth inside.
Lia said, “Right. Twenty-eight today?”
After Lia had completed ten pull-ups, Inniora said, “So, that was a surprise for Ja’al. Does Fra’anior always speak at these events?”
“Not that I know of … twelve …”
“Eleven. You didn’t touch your chin to the bar. And where exactly are you sneaking off to this evening?”
Between bouts of stretching her scarred back, Lia grunted, “Why won’t the Master let me … dance, Inniora? All I do … is blasted exercises … and copy blasted scrolls … and spend blasted hours admiring my reflection … in that blasted pool … meditating on what I’ve learned.”
Master Khoyal said, “Finish your set, Lia. Then I would speak with you both.”
Her breath streamed out in