Book One: Onnu and Pannu

The City

The next morning, the hatchlings woke excited and difficult to contain. David said nothing of the Charon's interruption later, but he was the least likely to do so. She was just as glad; she'd need all the rest she could get! Gabriel would've kept her up all night, with questions or advice.
   She reminded her children multiple times to stay in her hand, and if she had to rescue one of them, they would go to the other hand with talons closed. She hoped that it would hold them until they arrived, but with toddlers, you never knew. Even when the toddlers in question could speak some words already.
   Actually, that might make things harder, I don't know.
   Pannu looked ready to take off when she'd gathered their children in her palm. She'd assumed he would stay behind to handle Hold matters. It was only going to be a day.
   He looked wounded when she said as much.
   "As you say, it'll only be a day. They can make do without us for one day."
   Onnu controlled her breathing for a moment, to steady herself.
   "There are three Holds, now, under our care. Were it an ordinary day, I would agree. But I do not know how long this day will be. Chet may need transport, and you're the only one in the Hold large enough to carry him, with or without his team. I'm trusting you to take care of everyone while I'm gone, do you understand? It's important."
   His earflaps flattened, scales rippled. He clearly did not want her to leave without him, but she was right. He needed to be reminded that there were things he could do that no one but her could do. It soothed his ego a bit. She did so many fantastic things, he sometimes forgot that he could also do big things.
   He nuzzled her aggressively, scratched all the places he knew she liked.
   "You come back, now, ya hear? All of you."
   "Ya pa pa," the hatchlings chirped.
   Onnu launched into the air, and the hatchlings squealed with delight. They twisted this way and that, to get a better look around them. She was worried they would fall, so her other hand hovered under the one that held them. To their credit, the first one didn't fall until they reached the mountains to the north.
   True to her word, she cupped Sunny in the other hand, fingers firmly closed. She knew her daughter didn't slip out on purpose, but that didn't make it any less worrisome.
   Stone slipped over the first Hold, Sage when they reached the Council. She wasn't surprised, but she was very glad she'd put one hand directly under the other!
   Koodles hovered over the clearing in the Holds, unwilling to descend. "They wouldn't all fit in a Hold, so they just stand around down there and talk. We've got a market up near the sea, if you ever venture that far north. That's where my Hold is. We're fisherkin. Your friend raises skeetcats to hunt the vermin that try to eat the fish heads before they go in the stock pot."
   Onnu smiled. "Give her my best, will you? I don't know if I'll make it that far north, but maybe she'll visit us someday. I can't really leave these li'l rascals for long." She didn't say that she was bound to her Holdlands, but Koodles was around enough parents to understand the sentiment.
   When the little green dragon (well, little in relation to her) left, Onnu was reluctant to land. She would likely tire soon, but there were a few Councilors on the ground already. She really didn't like politics, and they would surely make demands that she wasn't ready, willing, or even able to fulfill.
   "Hail, Your Excellence. You may descend," Alistair called.
   "Excellency?" she asked, archly.
   He flushed. "If you have another honorific, we would be most pleased to hear it."
   She dropped lower, to a conversational distance. "I give myself no titles; no pretense to nobility nor piety."
   The Council, full of lords and ladies, suddenly found the ground, and each other, vastly interesting.
   "There must be some distinction between yourself and us smaller dragons!" he insisted. "I, for example, have taken the title and role of 'Defender of the Faith'. It is more than a title, milady. It is a statement of intent."
   Onnu landed on the edge of the circle; not quite in the ring, not quite outside of it. "And would you label me excellent, then? Or would you put me in a papal role?"
   She paced around the ring, unable to remain still. Rather than limp on three paws with the hatchlings in the fourth, she stalked them bipedal, forelegs tucked in close. Her wings draped like the cape of the religious leader he would dub her.
   "Not everything, nor everyone, can be put in a neat little box, good sir. While I do bring the Word of the Lord, I would take no title from Erdewaz to reflect it. Nothing is the same. You lot can cling to the Olde Ways, but I will be bound by no such things."
   "But we can't just call you 'Onnu'!" One of the other Councilors objected shrilly.
   "And why not?" she asked, stopping to stare at the silver dragon. "If I could tell you what it meant, it would suffice far more aptly than any honorific you would bestow."
   "Can you not?" A shrewd brown dragon asked, eyes narrowed.
   "It is not wise to distance oneself from one's kin so far," she intoned in her unnaturally deep voice. "The exterior does that well enough. Best not to add to it."
   A small group of dragons wandered in, across the staggered ring from those already present.
   Onnu was displeased to note that there were twelve, all told. Her hackles rose a fraction, and settled. The Councilors nearby took note with some apprehension.
   "Ah, the dragon from the southlands has graced us with her presence!" This was from a copper dragon in the middle of the group of newcomers.
   "Be still your wagging, insolent tongue!" a blue dragon beside her hissed.
   Onnu did not deign to acknowledge the copper dragon. To the group at large, she simply said "Twelve?"
   She would've continued, called them irreverent or arrogant, but Something stayed her tongue. She knew better than to ignore even such a subtle influence.
   A grey dragon hissed something she didn't catch. It didn't seem to be directed at her, so she waited for a proper reply. She quite literally had forever to wait. It was amazing what that did for one's patience.
   "It only seemed appropriate," the blue dragon said quietly.
   One brow ridge quirked, and still she said nothing.
   "It is biblical," the copper dragon said, with rather more piety than she liked.
   "And that is why I object."