AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The demen charge broke against those swinging tails. Demen were crushed between two meeting tailswipes, or batted against the Star Tunnel’s walls, or knocked head over heels before being crushed like an insect under a branch. Those few who dodged through the maze of movement, brandishing frightful-looking barbed swords and spears, met lashing saa-strikes that separated torso from legs or sent entire bodies flying, leaving only the spinning head to bounce off the tunnel floor like a dropped melon.
The mass piled up, just out of reach of the waving tails.
“Firemaids, loose flame!” Ayafeeia bellowed.
The tails flattened against the mass of haunches as the three dragonelles emptied their firebladders. Wistala smelled the hot, oily smell of dragonflame and the flames burst among the demen as though howling, dancing, blue-orange-yellow beasts rampaged in their ranks.>“Maybe someday, when I’m a bit stronger of hearts, but I’ll take your word for it. Where is this discourse leading?”
“I believe our kind is vanishing from the world.”
Wistala couldn’t argue with that. She’d seen few enough dragons in her life. These Firemaids were more than all she’d ever met put together.
“Perhaps. Your opinion of the surface is true enough. There aren’t many dragons about.”
“Dragonkind needs you. Your aid would be invaluable, if the Lavadome is to survive.”
“What is the Lavadome to me?”
“Your original home, I expect.”
“Whaaat?”
“It must have occurred to you that our dragonspeech is very similar.”
“Perhaps, but I’ve not spoken with many dragons.”
“I’ve talked with some of the dragons who formerly were under the thrall of riders. They’re a slow and stupid bunch, and their speech is most odd. Half the time I must ask them to repeat what they say. I have no trouble understanding you. In fact, you’re easier on my ears than some of the Anklenes, and I’ve been among them my whole life. I can’t help but think we’re related.”
“How can that be?”
“How much do you know of your parents, your grandsires?”
“Very little. AuRon knows more, as he talked with Father about his song now and then, and Mother supplied a few details. I know my mother’s mother was named Irelia.”
“An Anklene name if I ever heard one. Was your mother clever?”
“Yes. I would call her clever. Father was always praising her ability with tongues.”
“I suspect, Wistala, that you’re from a line of one of those renegades. Some hated living much of their lives underground. Others objected to keeping thralls—they even compared it to Anklamere’s enslavement of dragons, if you would believe such sophistry—and they left. There were those happy to see them go—more food for the rest of us and the voracious griffaran. But what I’m getting at, Wistala, is that you’ve come home. What are you going to do about it?”
Wistala felt as disoriented as after her crash down the well. “I—I need time to think. I’ve lived among hominids, so I’m used to new ideas, but this requires getting used to a new . . . a new me.”
Ayafeeia crossed necks with her, and they stood so, feeling each other’s blood pulse.
“Take your time,” Ayafeeia said quietly.
Once past that break in the tunnel the Firemaids relaxed considerably. The party met with a magnificent blue with red stripes on his wings whom Ayafeeia called one of the “Aerial Host.”
He bore a rider, but it was easy to see who was in charge. While Ayafeeia spoke to the dragon, the man fetched water and food for the dragon. The rider had no reins, but he did have a thick strap tethering him to the saddle. Ayafeeia later told her it was so he could turn around in the saddle to shoot his crossbow behind in flight. The riders did communicate with their dragons, through either words or leg taps, to let them know what they were doing, so a sudden turn or dive didn’t “spill” their burden.
Wistala noted that the rider wore a sort of armor under his fur-trimmed cloak of blue dragonscale, the same shade as his dragon.
He flew off down the passage, evidently with a message. Imagine, flying underground! This Star Tunnel was a wonder of the world.
“What sort of men ride with the Aerial Host?” Wistala asked.
“Free thralls,” Ayafeeia said. “There’s talk of establishing an Uphold just for the Aerial Host so the men can raise their families among proper gardens in the sun. Though if I were the Tyr I might fear such a move.”
“Why is that?” Wistala asked.
