The following morning, an hour before dawn, Ashueli introduced her three companions to the art of marching through the Giant territories. It seemed those big bad boys enjoyed a long lie-in, generally until around noon. Oddly enough, this was also in keeping with the habits of the reptilian argumasaurs and their many, many, many friends. They also enjoyed lying about soaking up the abundant sunshine until around noon, whereupon the entire population of the canyon – ninety percent carnivorous predators, according to her account – decided to make up for their morning’s indolence by dashing about in a frenzy killing one another until a little after sundown.
Therefore, the best time to travel was from several hours before dawn until just before noon and lie low for the rest of the day, preferably halfway up one of the columns. One should choose a strong redoubt in the hope the column did not collapse if a Giant hunt came charging by.
Allory pursed her lips. “Have I mentioned how much I prefer the jungle?”
“Ten times,” Sabline said.
Yaarah waved his paws vigorously around his muzzle and whiskers. “Zzzz-nnzzzz! Zzzz-nnzzzz! Blast it, bothersome mosquitoes.”
“Yaarah!”
“Zzzz-nnzzzz … zip!”
Spin-somersaulting neatly between his flying paws, Allory landed on his muzzle and gripped a handful of whiskers to either side. For the longest moment, as she glared into the upright slits of his eyes, she could not speak for the fury, the shame that devoured her soul. All those years of teasing. Incessant jibes. Inward screams that no-one ever heard because she knew they never listened to her, to who she really was. The knowing, deep inside, that they were right. She was a useless thing. Flawed. Broken. Never worth hearing. Repeating these truths until they scarred her inmost being.
Pain etched her soul’s most intimate song.
Yet the eyes burning upon her modulated even as she watched, flaming in realisation, empathy, shared insight. She might be tiny, but the lens of his gaze exposed the soul behind for that millisecond before they both blinked. This song, they shared.
Despite that her smile was tremulous and lopsided, her lips attempted an upward curve as she tugged playfully. “If you can’t hear well, friend Felidragon, are these the alternative controls? Left … right … both together to produce an instant compliment?”
“Purrr-harrr!” he snorted. “Oh my, have I told you recently how ferociously scintillant your sparkle is?”
“Not in the last five minutes, no.”
She tugged again.
“Most sparkle-tacular, mrrr-frrr! Truly a de-light.”
Releasing her death-grip on his sensitive whiskers, she dropped onto her knees to give his muzzle a quick, awkward stroke. “You’ll do, Felidragon. You’ll do.”
His irises squeezed in a feline signal of affection before he blinked in that ultra-slow, mesmerising way of his.
Allory sighed as the tension drained out of her body. She nipped up behind his ears and gave those a quick rub for good measure. “And what does this do?”
“Instant slave,” Sabline grunted.
Everyone stared at her.
“Gnarrr-frrr! What is this, show off our soft and sappy feelings morning?” she rasped horribly. “Let’s go catch us a few Giants!”
“Meet you at the bottom?” Ashueli suggested.
The Sable Sabrefang exploded, “Freaking paw-bait, did I just hear an Elven Princess swear at me? Are you trying to pull my whiskers, girlie? Because I assure you it won’t end well!”
Cue another round of staring.
Sabline tossed her head. “Are you goading me? Get on my back!”
“Er … but I thought … you said?” Ash spluttered, throwing up her hands in confusion.
“I’m not going to drop you this time, gnarrr-GRRR! And if he can do it, so can I.”
“Flying would be so much faster,” Yaarah put in mildly. No rising to the bait, or Sabline would do more than just ruffle his gorgeous fur. She’d plait it for a rug.
“I am a whole lot lighter.”
An onyx paw buffeted the Golden Purrmaine’s shoulder. “Who asked your ridiculously overeducated opinion? Us warriors, frrr-hssst, we’ll stick together! Make sure you two mosquitoes keep close and we’ll deal with any trouble that may come our way before it disturbs the lay of your fur.” Sabline pinned the Princess with a scorching glower. “Come on, Sweetblades. Scared? Don’t make me come over there and fetch you.”
Flicking back her dark locks with a fake show of confidence, Ashueli grinned, “As long as you come up with a nickname for my new ride, Allory Fae.”
“Ride? Gnarr! I’ll be gentle with you, seeing as it’s your first time.”
Wow, epic sneer. Even Sabline recognised as much and gave a self-deprecating burble of laughter mixed with fire deep inside her throat.
Yaarah and Allory exchanged glances that openly wondered when the taunting would turn into a real fight. Neither of those two warriors was the sort to back down – ever – and they both had reserves of pride as wide as these Canyonlands.
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The Elf climbed aboard and settled her long body above and a little behind Sabline’s shoulders. Torso to torso they made a good fit, Allory observed privately, since a sinewy Elven body took up a great deal more space than a mere speck of Faerie life. Ashueli tried dangling her legs downward at first, but then settled for crooking her feet back up in a more comfortable posture. Sabline wriggled and fussed a touch with the weight distribution, but with Yaarah offering his assessment that a flier of her power would have little trouble managing such a small additional burden, a certain Dragoness’ ego was sufficiently tickled and the Elf’s position was soon agreed upon.
No warrior fuss. Sabline rolled her shoulders and spread her wings. Much better. Regular medical treatment appeared to have oiled those troublesome joints enough to restore her flying capability. Allory wondered if Ash’s hands might be strong enough to provide a massage. Maybe another time. A time that would not involve having to reattach amputated fingers.
The pair of Felidragons tipped over the cliff’s edge and took the white-knuckled Princess of Ahm-Shira on her first official Dragon flight. Previous disasters not counted.
Judging by the brilliance of that slightly manic smile, it was a good one.
The slight radiance backlighting Middlesun at this hour, even though the sun’s face was completely covered by the Shyraiama Dragon migration, provided plenty of illumination for the foursome to make out the terrain they covered at the speed of Dragon flight. Allory reminded herself that a half Elf would also have excellent night vision, thanks to her heritage. The tall cliffs receded behind them as Sabline led the way into the column maze, keeping a couple of hundred feet below their summits as instructed by Ashueli. Dragons did not often overfly this region due to the presence of shakrosaurs, commonly called ‘Darts,’ higher-altitude hunters which boasted the delightful hunting method of smashing into their prey at such high speeds that their slim, ultra-hard bodies could even pierce scaly Dragon armour. Once nicely embedded, they munched their way around the insides until they found a pleasant place to lay their eggs … at which point Allory had to stop listening or she knew she would throw up.
Keep low. Enough said.
Why Dragons as prey, Ashueli inquired? Because their natural inner fires kept the eggs moist yet toasty warm, came the scholarly reply.
“La la la!” Allory yelled, clapping her hands over her ears.
“Shh!” everyone else hissed.
Why do carnivores major on all the juicy, bloody details?
Even in the semidarkness, the column maze was a place of surreal beauty. The boundaries between the rock layers could as well have been painted in their variegated purples, stark yet sublime. The lush vegetation clung to impossible cracks and fault lines in the natural stone, creating hanging gardens of greenery dotted with enticing blossoms that Ashueli warned her under no circumstances to investigate without backup and plenty of it. Nothing personal. Just that the greenery hid a plethora of smaller reptilian creatures, often swarm or pack hunters, that would certainly appreciate a Faerie morsel stopping by for breakfast. The scale and numbers of life were astonishing, from clouds of fast-flitting, iridescent green dragonflies so thick they obscured the daylight, to columns of army ants as thick as Allory stood tall. Suggids! A two-inch red fire ant was a marauder to be treated with respect by a tiny Faerie. A million of them? They’d barely pause to strip her flesh off her bones.
In many places, the columns stood so close together that the outspread wings of Felidragons could not pass between, so they followed the Giant hunting trails where possible. Flying was not easy. Higher up, the columns were oftentimes linked by horizonal vine ropes and bracketed by overarching tree growth. Truly, a stone forest. Despite making a speed that Ashueli declared must be three times the pace of Humans on foot, their progress was never clear, nor was there much chance to relax and enjoy the superb scenery.
One needed to concentrate upon to staying alive to do that.
Lovely canyonlands. Every Fae’s favourite holiday spot. Allory eyed the frequent patches of mauve, blossoms with mingled longing and respect. Now that she knew to look, her Fae sight picked out the odd gleam of a predatory eye or a moss green tail coiling stealthily beneath a branch.
Prospective friends aplenty lurking all about.
Shiver.
Middlesun’s rising brought new life to the rich, deep stone colours and solid emerald, orange and light greens of the luxuriant foliage. Squinting upward, Allory made out the darting forms of the long-beaked winged predators with the characteristic sharp-edged, triangular leather double or quadruple wing structures of the reptilian kind. Many sported bright colours or feathers for camouflage, she assumed, but the majority were clad in the grey, rough lizard hide she had expected. Below on the ground level or up in the foliage lining the columns, the story was much the same. The larger the predator, the toothier the maw, it appeared. Many of these already rivalled the Felidragons for size and would only become larger the farther they travelled into the Maze. Busy morning out here!
Sabline led on at a steady pace, but around midmorning, she caught Allory eyeing Yaarah’s injured wing for at least the fourth time and slowed to slipstream him.
“Wing check?” she asked brusquely.
“Mrrr-frrr, all fine.”
Allory sensed the untruth in his body, in the contraction of his muscles. Glancing over at Sabline, she shook her antennae slightly.
The Dragoness crashed, “No, you are not fine, you grrr-GNARR … fibber! We need you in top shape, Yaarah. Ashueli, find us a place to stop, frrr-ssst!” She flexed her shoulder muscles in an uncompromising message, making her new rider tighten her grip at once. “We need to examine this Felidragon.”
“I can continue,” Yaarah protested.
Right.
The Fae heard herself chirp, “I’m so stubborn I’d rather punch myself in the – eep!”
A low snarl throbbed in the male Felidragon’s chest, but he recovered with a rather more charming, “Oh, well played, Allory Fae. I accede. The break site is hurting and there’s considerable nerve pain, mrrr-prrrt. I could continue but agree I should not.”
With the male of the species having finally discovered a sensible bone in his body, they continued for several minutes until Ashueli pointed out a well-concealed cleft midway up a column cluster. Upon investigation, this narrow crack in which the Felidragons were forced to stow their wings and creep in with care led into a small, grassy central dell formed by an unusual structure somewhat like a Human hand held palm up, fingers pointing upward and kept fairly close together. Emerald green vines and dense, prickly foliage sealed the dell off on most sides as well as above. The arrival of two snappish Felidragons had the additional benefit of clearing the place of nasties – those creatures less nasty than Dragons, which covered a great deal of ground. Within fifteen seconds or so, the panicked shaking of bushes and fluttering of leaves abated.
Glancing about, Allory gave a satisfied chirrup and flexed her biceps. “I’m dangerous, I am.”
“Your native scent definitely sent them packing,” Ashueli agreed.
“Murrr-hurrr-harrr,” Yaarah chortled, only to clamp his fangs shut when Sabline prowled past. She said nothing, nor indicated anything by body language, but somehow her message communicated. He definitely had an entry in her bad scrolls.
Allory examined him, and in the end, could prescribe only two things. “The wound site is showing signs of becoming inflamed. I’ll apply hot herbal compresses and then you need to rest this wing. It’s not going to get better otherwise.”
“Can I march, at least?” he begged.
“I’d allow it,” she agreed reluctantly. “Tomorrow, we should alternate marching and flying – wouldn’t you say, Ash?”
“Aye,” she said.
“Gnarr!” The golden grump made his displeasure plain.