I am Dragon (Dragon Fires Rising Book 2) by Marc Secchia (famous ebook reader TXT) 📕

into us. When you call for Sirensong, you say her name like this: ≈Sirensong.≈

Oh, that’s beautiful! Azania said. ≈Sss … ribble?≈

Humans do not speak Dragoceanic.

Could I learn?

Wavewhisperer touched her knee, where she was seated upon Dragon’s forepaw. You remind me so keenly of my friend Yarimda. Do you ride this Dragon’s back, too?

Aye. We were conspired by you, honoured Dragoness.

Inspired, he corrected delicately. The Princess smacked him nonetheless.

On her tenth try, Azania managed to say, ≈Sirensong?≈

≈Very good!≈ Wavewhisperer sang.

She taught him how to communicate via long-range greeting. There was a particular pitch to the voice that carried afar, even hundreds of leagues, the measure familiar to Sea Dragons. At Dragon’s request, she clarified that a league was 3.45 miles.

≈May the ripples ever buoy your wings,≈ Dragon repeated carefully, struggling to get the intonations just right. ≈May your song resound to the deepest deeps. May your toes curl …≈ Uh, what was that?

Bursting into melodious laughter, the Dragoness said, That is what happens when you begin to learn Dragoceanic, my young friends. It … rises. I cannot say it better.

The Dragoness told them that she knew in her waters that it was Yarimda’s time, as it was hers. They would swim one final migration together, the eternal migration. That was where she had been bound when she responded to their cry for help.

After an hour of pleasantly getting to know one another, with the tide rising fast, Wavewhisperer said she had to swim on – both with reluctance at having to leave new friends behind, and great joy at her homecoming. She thanked them for helping Yarimda return to Hamirythe, and wished them the very best fortune in all the oceans. Sirensong would be tumbling in the waves to meet her son.

When Dragon bade her swim fast and carefully, she laughed and said, Usually, we only take on Sea Serpents of this size in pods of no less than ten. I plan to swim fast, younglings. Fast and far. How do you say it – may your wings soar?

Aye, he rumbled. May you swim true into eternity, Wavewhisperer. Please give Yarimda one last greeting from us.

I shall.

With that, she departed swimming in a south-westerly direction, while Dragon and his Princess made ready to make the next hop, a five-hour flight almost due west. This little knob of reef was already underwater.

The tides of fate waited for no Dragon.

* * * *

They flew with their faces set to the suns’ fires. However, that was not the full story. Another weather front arced down from the North with ominous bustle and purpose, its brooding battlements picked out in dusky oranges and sooty reds by the departing suns. Not good news. This next island was meant to be another low mound; those coming after were much taller and likely to be safe for landing upon, besides being far closer to the Archipelago mainland. Even from a height, they could observe the swell picking up almost by the minute.

“Another decision coming up,” Azania said.

“Aye, what’re you thinking? Neither back nor forward works well in heavy seas. However, if we choose to press on, keeping on track in that blow during the night … hmm?”

She said, “The Hariskon Celestial Navigator is behaving itself again, as best I can tell. Would you like to review the data with me? I’ve set in the next two stops, which is the most it can do.” At his nod, she unhitched and climbed his skull again. “Here we go. We should reach the next stop an hour after nightfall. If we are able to rest, it is then three hours plus two, unless … if, and only if you’re feeling strong enough, we could choose to go for the toe.”

“The talon?”

“Whichever works best for you.”

“In my most nit-picking voice, dry land is what works best for me. Why don’t we see what our stop looks like and how much rest is possible? That three-hour hop might be almost directly into heavy headwinds, whereas the point of that talon would have the partial benefit of a crosswind.”

“I agree.”

By the time they reached the mound, the low top of what appeared to be a substantial underwater landmass, the wind was already scudding through and the waves breaking with a booming sound audible from afar. White spray kicked up from the crashing waves led them directly to the rest stop – already, water sheeted right over the top. Not a pretty sight – spectacular but deeply unwelcome, Dragon grumbled in what might have been a bit of a dire monologue about how much he appreciated all the perils of a changeable ocean.

Azania chirped, “Doesn’t look overly restful, I must say.”

“Swimming on land,” he agreed.

Reaching forward, she patted his cheek near his left eye. “You’re the one doing all the hard work here. I’ll put up with anything – so, if you need rest, I’ll gladly get soaked.”

Since someone’s wings were about ready to fall off, a rest it was, such as one could attempt whilst being swatted by large waves every ten to fifteen seconds. Perching on a wet rock, pummelled by waves in rain that was becoming more torrential by the second – oh aye! Perfect. A primal quality to the howling winds and brutal oceanic waves thrilled his Dragon hearts, directly counter to his concerns about Azania. Yet she sat still upon his neck and even dozed a few times, before waking with a snort and a splutter when a particularly large wave inundated them both despite his folded wings covering her seat as best he could.

Dragon scented the winds and the mettle of his hearts. Meantime, another huge wave thundered over them. Worsening by the minute, this storm threatened to wash them right off the rock despite his four-pawed grip.

He said, “Let’s set course for the