The Onyx Dragon by Marc Secchia Page B

greatness is not hewn from deeds of paw and feats of strength. True greatness is founded in the exploits of a pure and noble heart. You saw Emblazon brought low after he betrayed us at Ya’arriol Island, yet it was not your strength of paw that restored him to his true-fires. It was a deed of great heart.
    A sob tore free of her chest. Pip ducked her head, appalled at the storm his words evoked within her. Yet she heard from the region of Shimmerith’s saddle, Nak’s soft, fierce, ‘Hear, hear!’
    The Brown Dragon drew close in the corner of her vision.
    Here is another truth. Your humbleness is, contrariwise, your strength. Never lose sight of your origins, nor of the fundamental nature of your heart, Pip of the Pygmies, for power such as yours is a ravaging, seductive beast. And that beast knows no compassion.
    Now he spoke less as a friend, and more as a Dragon Elder. Pip gulped. How could she hope to navigate the treacherous Islands of a life torn from the jungle and defiled by the zoo, redeemed by the kindness of Balthion and Arosia, and finally liberated by the paw of Zardon the Red? How could they hope to heal a part of her which apparently did not even exist in the physical realm? This Shapeshifter nature stretched her preconceptions about the world in many unexpected directions.
    As Kassik, Silver and Shimmerith swept down on the Amber Dragon and his shell-son, Pip pondered her original confusion. “Silver, do you mean that the poison works on more than my flesh and blood?”
    He nodded gravely. “Shapeshifter poisons are designed to disrupt, corrupt or destroy the different phases of your existence–your Dragon fires, your physical Dragon body, your Human form and spirit, and all the magic that binds it together–hence the technical term ‘multiphasic’. In my nursery, I once saw a poisoned Shifter try to transform. She turned into a half-baked mishmash of parts. Nasty.”
    Pip and her mount shuddered simultaneously.
    Meantime, Kassik marshalled his charges with a brisk series of commands. Chymasion landed on Emblazon’s lower back, moving as close to his spine-spikes as possible to try to minimise the imbalance his additional weight created. The hatchling slumped on the Amber Dragon’s broad back, looking utterly defeated. Meantime, the Jeradian trio transferred to Kassik’s saddle, increasing his load to five persons–Casitha, Balthion and the Jeradian giants. Shimmerith accepted Emblazon’s additional saddlebags and Dragon lances, while Silver carefully transferred a teary Arosia onto his shoulder. Pip unbuckled herself to give her friend a huge hug.
    “Father will never let us fly now,” Arosia sobbed. “I feel so stupid.”
    “Come on, you’ll be fine. Sit. I’m sure we can both fit on this saddle. And your dad looks worried, not cross.”
    “He’s going to flay me like a prekki fruit and squeeze my innards for juice,” Arosia said.
    “Don’t I know the feeling!”
    * * * *
    By the time the Spine Islands appeared on the evening horizon, even Emblazon had begun to wilt visibly. Oyda walked back to Chymasion and spoke with him, before mounting up and directing him to launch off his shell-father’s back. Arosia watched hollow-eyed.
    Pip slapped her friend’s knee. “Cheer up.”
    Arosia put her arms around Pip from behind. “Don’t be so determinedly positive when I’m having a full-blown moping session back here.”
    “Chin up, Dragon Rider.”
    “Chin up, heart down?”
    “Tell you what. Until we reach the Spine, I’m going to test you on your Ancient Southern. Let’s see if we can turn you into a Pygmy. We’ll start by practicing the thirty-four chirps and twelve trills.”
    “Because there’s a chirpy parakeet sitting in front of me?”
    Pip watched Emmaraz and Tazzaral powering ahead to scout for a place to roost for the night. Security, water and game, in that order, Kassik instructed. From this perspective, her friends appeared to be flying toward a buried Dragon