046.01
The Prime stood before Tal’on dressed in his official military garb. His chest was covered with metals. His three cornered hat sat jauntily on an angle. Though his guard protectively surrounded him, he wore his ornamental saber on one hip and his blaster on the other. He was further equipped with one of the pain sticks Tal’on had become so familiar with in the past when confronted with the Prime’s guard.
“Delevy tells me you can understand and speak our language now,” the Prime said as he tapped the end of the pain stick against his tall black boot tops in an intimidating way.
“I can,” Tal’on answered.
The Prime looked first at Delevy, and then at Tal’on, and back at Delevy.
“I thought you said the beast could communicate,” he said in an irritated tone.
“He can,” Delevy said. “He answered you.”
“I heard nothing, but a rumbling growl,” the Prime informed them.
How could this be? Thought Tal’on.
Tal’on and Delevy exchanged glances.
“Perhaps it is because you were with me during the change,” Tal’on said. “I know very little of what happens. The Greats do not tell us for fear of frightening us.”
“What is he saying?” the Prime demanded of Delevy.
Delevy bowed to the ruler. “He believes he can understand us because of something that happened during his change into this form.” She waved her hand to indicate his new larger frame and wings.
“Well, you certainly did not change,” the Prime said in frustration. He whacked the pain stick against his boot in growing irritation. “How is it you can understand him and I cannot.”
“Once again I think it is because you were with me during the stasis,” Tal’on said to Delevy.
“This is impossible!” The Prime shouted in growing anger. “I want to see you in my chamber, Keeper. Immediately!” He ordered.
He spun on his heel and retreated with his guard gathered about him like hatchlings about the head dragoness.
Delevy reached up and patted Tal’on on the shoulder. “I will be back as soon as I can.” She looked anxiously after the Prime.
“I tried to talk to him,” Tal’on apologized. “You heard me.”
“It will be all right,” Delevy counseled.
“Tell him I want to go home,” Tal’on said. “Tell him I need to go home.”
“I will,” Delevy promised. “I promise, I will.”
She gave Tal’on one last reassuring pat and ran after the Prime.
Tal’on watched her go, heard her close the door and lock it. He went to the wall and removed the piece of stone he had been working from its hiding place. The blue rock was almost the right shape. He tried to picture what Graf’tal showed him years ago when he first became his Great. The Sollen Graf’tal let him hold was this size and shape. He told him it would summons any dragon within hearing range. But, though this Sollen vibrated in Tal’on’s paw, it did not give off any sound. Something was wrong with it. Tal’on did not know what more to do to it to get it to work. What sort of magic was instilled in Graf’tal’s old Sollen that Tal’on did not possess or even know? Would he ever get home?
046.02
“You will train the beast!” the Prime ordered. “If he did not come from the Sandcor then we shall turn him on them.”
“His is not a beast to be train, my Prime,” Delevy tried to explain once again. “He is a thinking, reasoning being. Why would he fight on our side if he does not even come from here? He has no stake in our war.”
The Prime came from around his desk and grasp Delevy’s chin in his powerful hand. He raised her head so she could look into his angry, dark eyes.
“He has become quite close to you,” the Prime hissed. “You will convince him to fight for us and we will see what he is worth.”
He gave her chin a powerful squeeze which ground Delevy’s teeth together in her jaw. He dropped his hand. “You may pit him against the Sandcor prisoners. He will fight or he will die. Prepare him. I give you one full turn to make him ready.” The Prime swept back around his desk and flopped into his chair. “Go!”
046.03
“You have to fight.” Delevy pleaded. “If you do not fight the Sandcor they will kill you. They have nothing to lose. All of them have been prisoners here for ages.”
“I will not kill for your Prime!” Tal’on repeated himself. His tail slashed across the stone floor, the scales clattering to the tune of his anger. “I hold nothing against these Sandcor, or your people. I want to go home!” He shouted.
The cell was becoming unbearable hot. These days, since the change, Tal’on seemed to put off an inordinate amount of body heat when he was angry or even frustrated. Delevy had been working with Tal’on for over half a turn. She tried everything to get him to realize he was going to have to defend himself when he was thrown in with the Sandcor in the stadium. The Prime was having a steel cage cover constructed over the field so Tal’on could not fly away. Though no one knew whether he could fly or not, since he had not been allowed to leave his cell.
Delevy tried to sway Tal’on’s feelings toward the Sandcor. She told him about their invasion of towns, the bombing raids over the unprotected outlying villages, the terrorist attacks on the trade routes, and the killing of innocent women and children. Tal’on just continued to shake his head. It was not his war. And, didn’t the Valdare do the same to the Sandcor? He wanted no part of it. His species were peaceful.
Delevy sat down on the one lone chair she had brought into his cell. “Please Tal’on,” she begged.
“Help me escape,” Tal’on suggested. “I will take you with me,” he offered, “away from all this fighting and death.”
Delevy had to admit the offer was tempting, but there were so many unknown variables. Tal’on had not flown yet. He admitted he did not know if it was going to be instinct or if he had to be taught by the Great. Another thing the Greats chose to not reveal in advance of the stasis.
“We wouldn’t make it past the guards,” she pointed out. “Remember how the prods brought you down in the square?”
“I am bigger now and stronger,” Tal’on boasted. “My scales are larger and thicker. I bet I have gained double my weight.” He nudged her with a paw. “My claws are twice as long.” He proved his point by extending them to show her the lethal looking sharp weapons. “And there is something I have not shown you,” he went on.
The room’s temperature instantly rose at least another ten degrees. Smoke trailed from Tal’on’s nostrils. This was not the first time Delevy saw these wisps, but it was the first time for what came next. Tal’on inhaled and when he exhaled fire shot across the room and hit the far wall. The blue stones in the wall took on a deeper sheen.
Delevy bolted from her chair. “What the…!”
“I did it in my sleep last night,” Tal’on explained. “I have seen the older dragons breathe fire, but I did not know how it was done until I woke up with my blanket on fire.”
He grinned at her as if that were a good thing.
Delevy went to the wall and gingerly reached out a finger to touch where the fire hit. It was so hot she burned her finger. She stood sucking it and thinking. Maybe they could escape. Maybe there was hope.
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