remembered. Ja’al had not completed his task of transferring Master Khoyal’s memories of the Nuyallith forms to her, Lia recalled, spinning into a ferocious series of intersecting cuts called the Dance of Dragonets technique. On and on she danced, driving her body with all the ferocious power only grief could summon.
Finally, Hualiama finished her martial exercises, panting, “You’ll need more of that to get in shape.”
Aye, much more talking to herself, and she’d be dancing on the winds like a dragonet.
Hualiama whirled, and set her feet upon the trail.
* * * *
Night had fallen, Lia sensed, but the interior of the Dragon library knew no darkness. “Ha. I knew you could find it again,” she congratulated herself. “Pity about the thousand tunnels you searched fruitlessly beforehand.”
Hualiama had stumbled upon this library once before. Then, as now, the sheer scale of the place astounded her–a Dragon-sized library in a vertical column, perhaps an old volcanic pipe, thousands of feet tall. The walls were lined with leather-bound books and racks of scrolls. At intervals, wooden beams spanned the width of the column, and held giant reading plinths which stood eighteen feet tall, she estimated. Far overhead, a huge crystal formation blazed with an inner light that reminded her of Amaryllion’s Dragon fire, and at intervals down the walls, similar formations provided ample lighting. Lia grinned, examining the crystalline structures with an engineer’s eye for symmetry, detail and function. Magical lighting! Everything was Dragon-sized.
Gingerly, Lia crept out of the crack between the bookshelves, and set herself the spider’s task of finding her way to the platform fifty feet beneath her position. Gripping the shelves was the easy part. Finding finger-holds between the books was another matter. The tomes on these shelves stood eight feet tall and probably weighed more than half a dozen unruly royal wards all rolled together.
When her feet found the platform, she breathed a sigh of relief. Now to scale a plinth. This task was harder, but Lia had a core of adamantine stubbornness second to none, as her brother Elki liked to point out. Often. And loudly! Hugging the smooth wood with her legs, Lia crept like an inchworm to the top, and hauled herself over the top edge of the tilted surface which should hold books or scrolls, only, to her intense annoyance, it was quite empty. Flying ralti sheep! Of course she had not checked …
Welcome, Dragon-kin.
More than a few of her platinum strands probably turned pure white as she yelped in surprise.
Speak, and this library shall fulfil your wish.
I … umm …
The library said, May I present a menu of options?
Sure. Why not a talking library? Lia perched on the edge of the plinth. Surprise me.
Granted, hatchling. Here’s the last reference examined by a visitor. You will appreciate the subject.
Hatchling? There was a case of mistaken identity if ever … the breath whooshed from her lungs as from the shelves opposite, a massive tome worked itself loose and skimmed over to her on unseen wings. Hualiama ducked as it thumped down on the plinth. With a frantic rustling, the pages flipped themselves to the desired position.
Clambering down the side of the book, Lia decided that she did not entirely appreciate the way that matters Dragonish made one feel no larger than a gnat. Then, the beautifully illuminated page’s title caught her eye. Gold leaf and fanciful dragonets bearing the runic script aloft could not diminish the horror that sliced like a blade of ice into her innards, exactly where Ra’aba had stabbed her in the lower belly before he threw her off his Dragonship.
Ruzal.
How had the library known? Who had been reading about ruzal? Hualiama’s eyes jumped convulsively to the text.
‘ Ruzal . A branch of spoken magic offering unparalleled control of the mind and emotions of the target creature, similar to a Word of Command but more restricted in
Finally, Hualiama finished her martial exercises, panting, “You’ll need more of that to get in shape.”
Aye, much more talking to herself, and she’d be dancing on the winds like a dragonet.
Hualiama whirled, and set her feet upon the trail.
* * * *
Night had fallen, Lia sensed, but the interior of the Dragon library knew no darkness. “Ha. I knew you could find it again,” she congratulated herself. “Pity about the thousand tunnels you searched fruitlessly beforehand.”
Hualiama had stumbled upon this library once before. Then, as now, the sheer scale of the place astounded her–a Dragon-sized library in a vertical column, perhaps an old volcanic pipe, thousands of feet tall. The walls were lined with leather-bound books and racks of scrolls. At intervals, wooden beams spanned the width of the column, and held giant reading plinths which stood eighteen feet tall, she estimated. Far overhead, a huge crystal formation blazed with an inner light that reminded her of Amaryllion’s Dragon fire, and at intervals down the walls, similar formations provided ample lighting. Lia grinned, examining the crystalline structures with an engineer’s eye for symmetry, detail and function. Magical lighting! Everything was Dragon-sized.
Gingerly, Lia crept out of the crack between the bookshelves, and set herself the spider’s task of finding her way to the platform fifty feet beneath her position. Gripping the shelves was the easy part. Finding finger-holds between the books was another matter. The tomes on these shelves stood eight feet tall and probably weighed more than half a dozen unruly royal wards all rolled together.
When her feet found the platform, she breathed a sigh of relief. Now to scale a plinth. This task was harder, but Lia had a core of adamantine stubbornness second to none, as her brother Elki liked to point out. Often. And loudly! Hugging the smooth wood with her legs, Lia crept like an inchworm to the top, and hauled herself over the top edge of the tilted surface which should hold books or scrolls, only, to her intense annoyance, it was quite empty. Flying ralti sheep! Of course she had not checked …
Welcome, Dragon-kin.
More than a few of her platinum strands probably turned pure white as she yelped in surprise.
Speak, and this library shall fulfil your wish.
I … umm …
The library said, May I present a menu of options?
Sure. Why not a talking library? Lia perched on the edge of the plinth. Surprise me.
Granted, hatchling. Here’s the last reference examined by a visitor. You will appreciate the subject.
Hatchling? There was a case of mistaken identity if ever … the breath whooshed from her lungs as from the shelves opposite, a massive tome worked itself loose and skimmed over to her on unseen wings. Hualiama ducked as it thumped down on the plinth. With a frantic rustling, the pages flipped themselves to the desired position.
Clambering down the side of the book, Lia decided that she did not entirely appreciate the way that matters Dragonish made one feel no larger than a gnat. Then, the beautifully illuminated page’s title caught her eye. Gold leaf and fanciful dragonets bearing the runic script aloft could not diminish the horror that sliced like a blade of ice into her innards, exactly where Ra’aba had stabbed her in the lower belly before he threw her off his Dragonship.
Ruzal.
How had the library known? Who had been reading about ruzal? Hualiama’s eyes jumped convulsively to the text.
‘ Ruzal . A branch of spoken magic offering unparalleled control of the mind and emotions of the target creature, similar to a Word of Command but more restricted in
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