Wings of Renewal: A Solarpunk Dragon Anthology Read online

  It was not surprising.

  After all, Zachariah Lawrence always got the Wow prize.

  About Jeanne LG

  I've always loved reading. When I was small, I'd read anything, from the back of cereal boxes to the street signs. In high school, I was even known by the teachers as “the one who's always reading“. It was no surprise, then, when this love for literature brought me to do two programs in literature: one in French in College, and one—just started—in English in University.

  Fantasy is definitely my first love, no questions asked, but Solarpunk and Street Magic have slowly started worming their way into my heart and tinting my writings with new shapes and colors.

  Solarium

  by Kimberly Kay and A. N. Gephart

  I woke to a dragon nibbling my toes.

  “Get off, Zon,” I muttered, and nudged him away. His snout was warm against my feet.

  Ever since Zon had hatched, he'd slept at the foot of my bed—wherever that ended up being. Seaside huts, a spongy bit of moss, or currently, the cracked cement floor of an abandoned apartment complex.

  No matter where we went, Zon didn't understand the concept of a full night's sleep.

  Teeth sank into my ankle. “Ouch!” I jerked and rolled over, scattering my travel blanket. “Zon!”

  He huffed a croaky laugh as he peered up at me with thin green eyes. He barely lifted his head. It was sort of pathetic, really, the way he got so weak at night. But then, that was what darkness did to a solar dragon.

  A bird sang in the distance. Doubtless, it was what woke Zon. Though I couldn't see any hint of sunlight, the morning couldn't be far off.

  “Oh, all right,” I muttered as I found my feet. “But just this time. After, we'll wake up at regular hours. Let a girl get some proper sleep, and all that.” It was the same lie I told him every morning. A Dawnlight Knight never slept in. Not if she wanted to protect her people.

  I stood and stretched. The night before, I hadn't bothered changing out of my riding trousers and shift. Though danger wasn't exactly common since the turn of the century, I liked to be prepared when on scouting trips—especially in the older parts of New York where cement monstrosities still poked through the ground like broken teeth. To think, people once lived in these dank caverns on a regular basis. How had they survived without glass ceilings and walls granting them endless sunlight?

  I pulled my armor over my clothes. My fingers ran along buckles and ridges, making sure everything was secure and comfortable. The leather armor was laced with green scales shed by Zon to make it extra durable. I clipped a small pouch of crystal light eggs around my waist—a peaceful weapon used for distracting threats, or providing a quick snack for Zon. The belt was a little loose, but I liked the way it hung at my hips.

  As I picked up my helmet, I paused, examining the feathers. A green one—a gift from Zon—a red one, from my mother's dragon, and a blue one. My thumb ran along the soft fibers. That blue feather was why I was out here today.

  Zon croaked at me, breaking my dark mood. I smirked as I circled over to him. He lifted his head and stood, but in the cramped space, he ended up tripping over his long, feathered tail. He stumbled and fell into a fluffy green knot at my feet.

  “Poor, pathetic creature,” I teased, running a finger down his pointed snout.

  He granted me a disgruntled look.

  I lifted his scaly chin. “Come on then. Let's go get you some breakfast.”

  Zon staggered back to his feet, and I draped an arm around his shoulders. It was the most I could do to help him stay balanced. When he was a hatchling, I'd carried him outside every morning. Now, I simply provided moral support as he heaved his way through a crumbling doorway and up a spiraling set of stairs. I'd thought ahead, and picked a room close to the roof.

  The bird was joined by others, and the song grew louder. Zon's wings, bunched tightly against his back, twitched in anticipation. When Zon wagged his tail, he nearly knocked my legs out from under me. “Don't,” I warned him, but he paid little heed, pushing his thin snout against a door and shoving it open just as sunlight flooded over the horizon.

  The light tumbled over shattered skyscrapers and danced through the leaves of trees growing from terraces and rooftops. A breeze washed over us, turning the grass blanketing the unused streets into rippling rivers of life.

  Zon took a deep, gasping breath as if he could drink in the daylight. He spread his wings with a great wa-thumf that startled the birds into a breath of silence.

  Golden light shimmered over his wings and glimmered on his feathers. Moments ago, he was a dull mossy green, but as he absorbed the sunlight, he brightened and shimmered like a perfectly cut emerald. Zon hummed appreciatively. Like the trees around him, he thrived on sunlight.

  Smoke sprang from Zon's nostrils as the light within his core gained power. He lifted his head with a soft coo, rather like a dove.

  “Nice dragon.” The voice came from a ledge above me. I started and looked up, my hand tightening on the hilt of my sword. I caught sight of a shaggy head of dark hair and laughing brown eyes. Inconspicuously, I released my hilt.

  Shooting me a grin, the young man rose to his feet, hands in his pockets, and dropped from the overhang. “Looks happy to be out in the daylight.”

  Zon turned sharply toward the man and snapped his teeth.

  “Whoa.” He put up his hands, eyebrows raised. “But not exactly tame, apparently.”

  “Zon,” I said softly, and draped myself over his neck to calm him. “He's just a little shy. That's all.” I eyed the newcomer. He grinned nervously, a motion which squinted his long, narrow eyes further. He folded his arms over his shirt. Dark, pointed pieces of armor layered one sleeve, making it look like he'd covered his arm in overlapping dragon scales. I quirked up a smile. “You sound like you've never seen a solar dragon.” Yet he dressed like one. It was a little flattering that even here, on the outskirts of the Solarium Empire, the Dawnlight Knights were known.

  “Not quite so close.” The newcomer uncrossed his arms and took a step nearer to Zon, still uncertain. “Guess there's a first time for everything, though.”

  “You can come closer if you like. Right, Zon?” I elbowed the dragon, and he turned his head sideways to examine the newcomer with one brilliant green eye. In the sunlight, it glinted like a gem, luminous. I glanced at the young man again. He seemed about my age.

  His attention remained fixed on Zon. Tentative at first, he came close and extended a hand, drawing it back once or twice as if expecting to lose fingers. Inches away from the dragon's snout he paused, as if waiting for permission from Zon.

  Zon huffed and looked away, dismissive.

  “Zon,” I scolded. “Don't be like that.”

  Zon, however, inspected a rusted tin can that was clearly more interesting than an actual human being. “I'm sorry. He's usually quite friendly.” I held out my hand to prove that at least one of us knew some manners. “My name is Saumyi.”

  “Haru,” he responded with a slight bow, extending his hand when he straightened. “How long have you had him?”

  I gave Haru's hand a firm shake, noting briefly the contrast of his golden skin against my own pale brown. “Three years.” I let go.

  “Not long,” he remarked, “considering dragons are nature spirits.”

  So he did know at least a little about dragons. “Yeah. Well, the dragons die when their habitat is polluted, right? When you restore the habitat where the dragon once lived …” I shrugged a shoulder and tilted my head toward Zon, my thick black hair sliding forward. “They're reborn.”

  Haru's eyes widened. The remark had impressed him. “How'd you pull that off?”

  “Oh, cleaned up some chemical waste. Replanted a forest.” The Amazon, to be specific. Being a peacekeeper was more work than most people gave us credit for. “That sort of thing.”

  “Huh.” Haru tilted his head, considering. “… You a Knight, then?”

  I nodded once as Zon pounced on the t
in can, capturing it between his paws. He gave it an experimental nibble before taking a deep breath. His feathers glowed as he exhaled white fire, melting the tin into a harmless lump. Cutie.

  “Don't you …” Haru shrugged, probing the inside of his mouth with his tongue as he looked for words. “Travel in packs or something?”

  “Legions,” I corrected without thinking. Zon looked over his wing at me, and tilted his head in disdain. Well, he could do the talking if he thought I was so bad at it.

  Only, wait. Dragons couldn't talk. He shouldn't judge me so harshly.

  “And your, uh, Legion is …” Haru gestured to the empty skies above the city, one eyebrow quirked. “I thought Knights were all serious and rule-following. But here you are, not exactly with your group.”

  I bit my lip, but lying had never really been a talent of mine. One of the problems of growing up in a utopia, I suppose. “They're not far off,” I admitted. “It's just … I'm on a special mission. Stuff you wouldn't understand. I can't talk about it. Good day. Come along, Zon.”

  Zon moved to my side, as subtle and shimmery as a mirage. I put my hands on his shoulder and prepared to mount. Zon, however, didn't kneel as he usually would. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on the youth now behind me.

  “This isn't about that blue dragon, is it?” Haru spoke up.

  Zon chirped as my thoughts jumped to the feather on my helm. I hesitated, then turned around. “You've seen another dragon?”

  Haru pursed his lips in feigned innocence and turned towards the rolling green hills beyond the rotting remains of Lower Manhattan. “I might have.”

  If he thought his taunting was endearing, he was quite wrong. I unsheathed my sword, but didn't ignite it. Instead, I took one sharp step toward him. “Tell me what you know.”

  The smug look melted off his features. “Whoa, aren't you supposed to keep the peace and all? This is a little excessive.”

  “The loss of His Majesty's dragon is, I'm afraid, a rather serious matter,” I retorted, the diamond length of my blade gleaming in the sun. Zon squawked a threat, smoke streaming from his nostrils as he slid effortlessly around the boy, surrounding him on all sides.

  Haru spread out his hands as if to hold back Zon, frowning.

  I pointed my tip toward Haru's throat. “Not only is Prince Rocco despondent without his dragon, but, you see, Cascata is the nature spirit of the sky. The hotter regions of the empire are starting to suffer from lack of rain. We'd like to fix that.”

  “Okay, okay. I get it. You're serious about this. You've made your point.” His gaze traveled the length of the sword. “Literally, as a matter of fact.” Despite the danger, he managed a grin.

  I bit back a snort, half derisive and, shamefully, half amused. “So then.” I didn't lower my sword. “Where did you last see Cascata?”

  “That way.” He motioned with his head toward the hills, eyes returning warily to Zon's jaws. “If you want, I could lead you there.”

  I cocked a brow. “You think I can't find 'that way' on my own?”

  “Oh, I'm sure you could,” Haru assured me. “But we don't exactly have time to get lost. The dragon—Cascata—looked like she had a hurt wing. Would you really want to chance it?”

  My tip dropped. “Is she in the sunlight?”

  “I don't know. Probably not, if she hasn't come back by now,” he guessed.

  If I had known any curse words I would have used them. As it was, I sheathed my sword and jerked my head at Zon. “Get on.”

  Haru laughed once with no little relief, and he inched toward Zon. “Uh, I haven't ever done this before … where do I sit?”

  “You can have shotgun.” In one, fluid movement, I caught Haru's arm and yanked him onto Zon behind me. “Hold tight.”

  Zon spread his wings and leapt off the roof.

  To Haru's credit, he managed not to scream, though he did squeeze my waist a little too hard as he clung on for dear life.

  I smirked as Zon pulled up. Smooth as a kite, we sailed high into the skies. I glanced over my shoulder just as Zon took a sharp turn. To my surprise, Haru's grip on my waist loosened instead of tightened. He leaned into the turn. The wind whipped his hair from his face, clearly showing the squint in his eyes as he observed our surroundings. I even thought I caught the hint of a smile. The kid was a natural. “You're pretty good for a first-time flyer. Ever considered becoming a Knight?”

  “Beginner's luck,” he managed, wrenching his attention back to me. “Heights … not my thing.”

  I smiled sympathetically. “I guess not everyone was cut out to own a piece of sky.”

  “Because the prince owns it all,” he muttered near my shoulder.

  “That's not how Solarium works,” I said, too quickly. “It's here, free for the taking.” I patted Zon's side. “For creatures like us.” I turned forward, eyes sweeping the ground.

  Haru was silent for a moment. “So … You and the prince, huh?”

  I startled. “What? No! I never said—”

  “You're out here by yourself rescuing his dragon and defending his name. Clearly, you want to stand out from all the other girls and get on his good side.”

  “It's not like that at all!” I huffed. “Rocco and I grew up together. I'm just helping him because he's my friend.”

  A beat. Then he asked with a grin, “So is this a special friend, or …?”

  “Wha—Don't even—You know what? I don't have to put up with this. Which way is Cascata? Do you recognize anything from up here? ”

  Keeping his hands on my hips and the grin on his face, he motioned forward, toward the Catskill Mountains. “Probably there. Makes sense that wild animals would head that way.”

  I snorted. “Solar dragons aren't wild animals. Right, Zon?” Zon continued to stare avidly at the ground, his neck sliding back and forth as he scouted. “Zon?” I nudged his shoulder. “I'm trying to make a point here, Zon.”

  “Right,” Haru drawled. He pointed suddenly over my shoulder. “There. By that lake. That's where she went.”

  Zon tucked his wings, sending us in a total plummet. The wind whipped my face, making it hard to see as the ground swooped up to greet us. Haru hugged my waist.

  At the last moment Zon extended his wings, the force of his flap making trees bow and sway. Zon's feet skimmed the surface of the lake and then he alighted on solid ground. I expected Haru to be a quivering mess, but instead he released me and slid off the dragon, looking around. “There.” He pointed toward a tree.

  I'd already seen it. The lower branches were broken and bent, leaves scattering the ground. A golden smear marked the trunk—dragon blood.

  I dropped from Zon's back and drew my sword. The blade glinted in the sun, and when I pressed a gem on the hilt, light flooded the blade. It glowed a brilliant golden-white, and a wave of heat washed over me as I advanced cautiously.

  Zon followed, his wings spread to absorb as much sunlight as possible. The light in his system would directly correlate with how much fire he could blow. Smoke lifted from his nostrils.

  I parted thick green fronds as high as my waist. “Zon, identify,” I whispered as I paused, my hand sweeping the grass around us as I searched for scales or feathers. Zon, meanwhile, approached the tree, neck curved, wings wide. His girth cut a conspicuously wide path toward the tree. I looked at the smooth hills of grass. Wait a moment …

  Zon extended his nose toward the blood.

  “Zon! Wait!”

  My warning came too late. As Zon entered the shade of the tree, a huge cloth erupted from the trunk, catching him full in the face. Zon hissed and pulled away, but the cloth billowed outward, cascading over him completely, thick as darkness itself. Though Zon struggled, he was at a poor angle, and couldn't get free.

  “Zon!” Before I could run to his aid, something caught me from behind. My sword went spinning, hissing as it extinguished in the grass, lost somewhere among the tall fronds. I growled as I twisted, prying at the hands that held me—my companion's ochre ha
nds. “Haru!”

  “Sorry about this,” he managed,his breath warm on my ear. “Or wait, maybe I'm not.”

  I elbowed him in the sternum, but my blow didn't seem to affect him. The leather sleeve must extend inside his shirt, protecting him. Armor? But why would he need that? And Zon—

  Light flashed beneath the fabric, but didn't catch. The cloth must be inflammable. Zon thrashed, but with his feathers covered, he couldn't access sunlight and was quickly losing strength. He needed my help.

  I twisted, clawing at Haru's face. He caught my arm in one of his, and when I went for his eyes with my free hand, he bit me.

  “Traitor!” I elbowed him in the neck so that he gagged, and had to let go.

  He coughed and managed, “Barbarian,” before I wrapped my hands around his throat.

  The covered mound that was Zon went limp. My grip tightened.

  “Stop.”

  The voice was cold as ice, and I paused in the act of strangling Haru. He ripped my hands from his neck and rolled away from me, gasping.

  My gaze flashed back to Zon. Someone stood at his head. She was small. Shorter than me, probably. Her blonde hair pinned back from her face only accentuated how young she looked with her rounded features. I rolled over and slowly stood, my hands still tingling with adrenaline.

  “Get away from my dragon,” I ordered, my voice quiet at first but quickly rising with anger. “And give me Cascata, you savage!”

  She offered a small smile. “Savage. Ironic.” She knelt in the grass and produced my sword. Though the inner flame had gone out, the crystal blade glistened dangerously in the light. With a sudden thrill of fear, I imagined her plunging it straight through the jet black blanket into Zon's heart.

  However, she simply turned it over, examining the craftsmanship. “This is an Albion Wyvern saber, isn't it?”