Dragon Thief by Marc Secchia Page B

upon the Island-World, upon history even–should such hubris not earn him a speedy talon through the neck–then he must evince more than a thief’s sense of integrity.
    “Tazi–” he winced as his voice cracked like an adolescent boy’s “–you doubtless sensed, even smelled, my reaction to your question. I will say this. Love is fragile, precious beyond any treasure of this world. It … takes time.” Suddenly, his throat was thick with unspoken emotions. “What this man knows is the first blush of infatuation. He would not know this madness from true love if it captured him, despoiled him and turned all the Islands of his world into butterflies that winged their way around the twin suns in eternally fluttering rainbows.”
    The Dragoness’ chuckle shook him so hard, Kal was thankful for the saddle straps. He asked, “Are you tempted to eat me, now?”
    “Too amazed for that.”
    “Of course. I am simply, jaw-droppingly amazing.”
    His preening triggered another draconic chuckle, complete with fire, billowing smoke and a choking puff of sulphur. “What you are is the vainest parakeet I’ve ever met.”
    “It’s a defence mechanism.” Kal snapped his mouth shut. What by the volcanic hells of Fra’anior–the largest active volcano in the Island-World at eighteen leagues in diameter–was he thinking, giving a Dragoness his inmost confidences? Quickly, he said, “Oh, so what shall I make of all that posing on the clifftop back there?”
    “Pre-flight checks.”
    Her tone suggested he had better not pursue the matter. Kal, being Kal, settled unerringly upon the diametric opposite. “Pre-flight muscular posing and checking the exact striations of your massive flight muscles in the full gleam of dawn’s pure light?” Her growling gathered the volume and menace of an approaching avalanche. “I mean, I can understand stretching your wings to loosen the joints and ligaments. But tilting them to maximise the gleam off the surface in order to dazzle your Human companion–”
    “Kal!”
    “You examined the sharpness of your talons because–”
    “We might encounter enemies.”
    “And that remarkable session of spine-stretching–” he imitated her morning limbering up, with slightly exaggerated sound effects “–whilst fishing for compliments with a coy inclination of your head and whirling fire-eyes?”
    “Kal!”
    “Oh roar my name once more, thou glorious breath of dawn’s fires.”
    “Shut the dragonet-babble, you vacuous vagabond.”
    “You love my poetry. Really. It’s alarming how I can turn a woman’s heart into prekki fruit mush with nought but a casual turn of phrase.”
    Tazithiel crisped a few passing insects with the force of her derision.
    Leaning forward in the saddle, he whispered, “Now, why don’t you show me what a Dragoness can do, Tazi? Can you soar over those quadruple overlapping rainbows up there?”
    The Indigo Dragoness’ challenge shook the cool, still morning. I shall rend the light with my claws! I am Tazithiel!
    Tazithiel surged skyward, once again leaving Kal’s stomach miles in her wake.

Chapter 5: Call of the South
     
    A DAY ALOFT was enough to convince the most cynical sifter of swag that flying Dragonback was an experience which stirred the secret places of his soul. Between bouts of awe and curiosity, Kal spent an agreeable clutch of hours envisioning the citadels and fortresses he could plunder with the help of a Shapeshifter Dragoness. He drew blissful thought-pictures regarding the potential uses of her magical powers. Ah, how swiftly he could loot a treasure-chamber if he could just levitate the gold and jewels right out of it! Kal sighed. Soldiers? A puff of Dragon-fire would roast them in their tin-pot armour. Moats, sixty-foot walls and defending armies? Trifles.
    Of course, as a recently reformed rogue he was not truly intent on carrying out these undeniably sheep-brained plans. Instant holiness accompanied his Shapeshifter-like transformation,