Despite the topsy-turvy flight, he soon became enamored of the gnarled, rocky scenery and could better appreciate Helena’s warnings against venturing out alone. He spotted “crevasses” as wide as canyons and smaller but still dangerous fissures too numerous to count. The ubiquitous black rock appeared jagged enough to slice through one’s boots, and the so-called Red River was a Mississippi-wide, red-hot channel of lava and fire scorching a winding path as far as the eye could see.
On the horizon, he spotted one volcano spewing molten rock while another spit plumes of thick smoke high into the voggy, scarlet sky. He grabbed his inhaler and took a fortifying puff.
The beautiful, fascinating, and dangerous topography seemed symbolic of the chasm between humans and dragons. Paradise to one meant death to the other. Was there any wonder the two sides found it difficult to get along? Helena and Rhianna, who sought to foster peace and understanding between the two nation planets, had their work cut out for them.
A glint of light winked in the distance, and then the sprawling First City crept into view. He widened his eyes in awe and then swore as the donatta swooped straight down to bring them in close. She bugled, and he’d swear it sounded like a laugh.
Draconian style reminded him of Greco-Roman architecture, only more elaborate. Intricately carved pillars supported decorative capitals beneath massive domes and rooftops adorned by bas-relief murals. He’d never seen such intricate detail applied to a roof, and then it struck him the building tops were the first thing a dragon saw. Form and function had developed around flying. Homes were constructed to accommodate fly-ins, the living spaces located on the perimeter of quadrangle and octagon courtyards. Doors were superfluous.
The First City had gone up in record time, and the Draconians hadn’t waited on erecting statuary. He recognized likenesses King K’rah and Prince T’mar in addition to many unfamiliar Draconians he assumed were statesmen of import.
As they neared the center, they sailed over a thick, bejeweled wall into another city. The already impressive white-white structures got larger, grander, and more ornate, the buildings, towers, monoliths, and spires inlaid with glinting gemstones. Within the confines of the city walls, lava pools bubbled and fumaroles smoked. Statues were in great abundance, some shooting fire or belching smoke. He did a double take as he spied a huge marble one of a demiforma Prince T’mar holding hands with Helena and realized they hadn’t entered another city but the palace compound.
The donatta bugled again and dove straight down to land next to a structure commanding half a city block and several stories of air space. Gargoyles in fight mode glowered from a turreted roof.
The donatta released him and shifted into demiforma. Naked, she grinned at him. “Did you enjoy the flight?” Yellow eyes glinted with humor.
“I assume the swoops and dives were for my benefit?”
She chortled but not maliciously, and he thrust her clothing into her hands, grateful she’d had the foresight to ask him to pick up the tatters after she’d shifted. The intelligent fabric had knitted itself together.
She donned the common, drab gray uniform. Draconians celebrated beauty in their architecture and in their love for jewels, precious metals, and all things shiny. But they were realists, too. They saw little sense in adorning their demiforma bodies with fine fabrics to be destroyed every time they shifted. Even intelligent fabric could be stretched only so far.
“This is where you’ll be staying.” Her voice was gravelly, almost masculine, but all demiformas sounded rough. She gestured at the entry, a solid stone portal sans knobs, handles, or levers. Like the building itself, it was carved but with human figures instead of dragons.
“Technically you may come and go as you please, but you should not explore unaccompanied,” the donatta said. “It’s not safe for a human.”
“I got the speech from Princess Helena.”
“If you need anything, ask me. When you approach the portal, it will open.” She motioned for him to try.
He stepped forward, and the door melted away in front of him, very similar to the walls on the ship.
“I studied the schematics before arrival. I can show you around.”
“Please,” he said. “Thank you.”
“Follow me.” She stepped onto a marble floor inlaid with a scattering of jewels. “You’ll notice the portal is narrow. For your protection, the chambers and passages are smaller to ensure no one can walk in and then shift into dragon,” she explained.
“Is that a danger?” Contrarily, the precautions taken aroused his concerns.
“Everyone is aware Earth tried to steal Elementa, and, although the squatters have left, resentment simmers. No one who knows of your association to Prince T’mar and Princess Helena would touch you, but some may be unaware of your protected status.”
Despite the “bumpy” flight, he had sensed no ill will from her. “You don’t resent me?”
“I’m aware of your association.” Her eyelid twitched in a manner that suggested she might be trying to wink.
Dangerous geography, venomous fauna, and a population of resentful, angry dragons. Did he need any more incentive to leave? Beneath his shirt, the pendant seemed to heat.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“I’m called J’leen.”
“Thank you, J’leen, for looking after me.”
“It’s my job,” she said gruffly, but he caught a whiff of a scent that reminded him of embarrassment. Or maybe it was pleasure? He was getting fanciful, imagining odors and assigning emotions to them.
The door sealed behind them, and J’leen beckoned. “There are several sleeping chambers, and as you are the sole occupant of this wing, you may choose whichever one you want.” She motioned at carved doors as they passed. “Entries are marked so you can see them, but they function like they did on the ship or on Draco.”
“They open automatically—if I have clearance,” he said.
“Yes.” She nodded. “You have clearance to everything in this wing.
