Wings of Renewal: A Solarpunk Dragon Anthology (54 page)

Saya had hidden pieces of her ancestors—vertebrae tucked beneath the shrubbery, tailbones tied to the high branches of trees. The largest of the bones she buried in strategic places along the perimeter where the domed kaleidoscope of glass met the ground.
 

Tonight, her preparations were complete. She had followed one of the patterns carved into the walls of the temple—the one used for revival, for the renewal of strength.
 

Her memories guided her. The first night she joined in the spellwork as a member of the clan and not a child. Gripping mother's talons in her own as she stood carefully on the space marked out for her, as she lifted her voice.
Remember, Saya
,
it's all right if you falter over the words. Focus on the meaning, pour your will and energy into wanting this to be, and you will do fine
. Eyes shining, face glowing with pride at her mother's smile afterward as she nuzzled the top of her head.
You did well, daughter.
 

With the ghost of that pride warming her heart, she packed the earth over the last of her mother's bones, placed beneath the shadow of a bridge. She pressed a kiss to her palm and placed it gently atop her mother's new resting place and whispered, “Thank you.”

* * *

The morning of the ceremony, Saya woke in Demine's arms.
 

They spent a long moment smiling and nuzzling each other's necks. Saya had expected this day to feel hollow, cold, filled with dread. But instead, a surge of affection rose in her chest as she lay beside the other half of her soul, the one she had spent a lifetime loving and who never stopped amazing her.
 

Neither had spoken of it, but they had both felt it. The ceremony that night would be a goodbye, not only to the City, but to each other.
 

Demine would likely not last another day.
 

“Stay with me,” Saya whispered. “Let's not leave the nest until evening.”

Demine chuckled and pressed her face to her love's. “Sounds perfect.”

* * *

Night fell. Nearly every citizen of the City joined in the celebration, dancing to soft music, creating strings of flowers and draping them around friends, family, and the necks of their dragon guardians. The atrium wasn't big enough to hold them all, but Saya could hear them in the streets, see the glitter of hanging party lights wrapping up the side of the mountain.

Saya lay in the grassy open space reserved for them before the fish pond, her tail wrapped around her wife's as they listened to the singers and spoke with the many citizens who wanted to thank them for how they had personally touched their family's lives. Many people shed tears, and both dragons embraced many more, crying tears of their own.
 

When all had said their fill and the event was nearly at an end, Saya stood and stretched her wings and called for attention. Demine watched her quizzically, but said nothing.

When the crowd was fairly quiet, Saya began, “Good citizens, I have one more request of you.” She took a deep breath. “Most of you don't remember what it was like when a host of dragons lived among you, but we had a ritual we would perform, a sort of ceremony, and I'd like for you all to participate in it with us.”

Pleased mutterings from the crowd, but a frown spread on Demine's face as she hissed, “Saya, what are you doing?”

Saya ignored her. “I want you all to hold hands. Every single one of you needs to be linked with us. Someone step in the doorway and connect to those in the streets.”
Community. Shared spirit. A people coming together to unite in one purpose.
“I'm going to sing a few notes. It's a simple tune. And I want you to repeat it, and sing it with me.” She lifted her head to the moon and sang. Five notes in a minor key—a haunting melody that looped upon itself. “Now you try.”

A roar of voices answered back. She saw the chain of their hands weaving around the atrium and out the doors and felt the rumble of their song in her chest. It made her smile wide.

“Saya.” Her mate's face was sad, and her voice held a gentle rebuke.

“I want to do this.” Saya linked her tail with her wife's. “Please.”

Demine sighed, then smiled softly and nodded, reaching out her talons to the tentative child who had crept beside her, clinging to her father's hand and looking shyly at the dragon.

Saya held out her forearm to a young man whose grin was vivid white in the dark tones of his face. “My lady,” he said charmingly, and bowed over her talons.

She had to laugh.

“Lastly, as we sing the song, I want you each to think of this night and the memories that were shared. Picture in your mind Demine and I soaring over your City. Picture your earliest memories of us. All the love, all the joy you have shared with us tonight—pour it into your song. And we will do the same for you.”

Demine and Saya's voices chimed in perfect harmony as they sang the melody, repeating it again and again, their voices blending with those of the City's, filling the atrium with a swell of music that poured outside and mixed with other voices, with the crash of the waves and the wind whistling through the streets.
 

As the song grew, Saya felt the warm tingle of magic rise up through the pads of her feet.

Demine gasped. “Saya, what—”

“Don't stop.”
 

Soon the magic grew visible, a golden haze in the air that shimmered with the notes of the song. Children tugged on their mothers' hands and people gasped aloud, but Saya's voice was strong and soon, everyone sang the louder. Something was
happening
.
 

The golden mist grew bright and warm, winding between the chained hands like a ribbon.

Saya squeezed her eyes shut, pouring all her longing into the rise and fall of her voice.

Please don't take Demine and leave me to be the last. The City still needs a guardian. It needs us. It will always need us. Don't let these children grow up in a world without dragons. Don't let me die alone.

She pictured the clan, all of them together, the love shared between her parents and nestmates, how it wrapped around her childhood, her young adulthood, and stayed with her, even now. She pictured Demine in their youth, the way she'd hesitantly brushed her wing against Saya's when they were courting. She remembered being strong and fast, being loud and full of ideas and the mischief she and her mate got up to just before their bond.

Give us that again
, Saya pleaded with the magic.
Don't let this be the end.

The bones in the ground began to hum, giving off their own song in countermelody to the City's united voice.

At Demine's gasp, Saya opened her eyes to see the golden fog thick around them, a tangible force swaddling them close.

Yes!
Saya threw back her head and sang louder than she had yet, her voice going raw with emotion. Magic dusted her skin, warm and thick. She breathed it in, let it wash over the contours of her wings, her horns, her tail.

This is it. The last of our magic combining with the City's love to keep us here, to keep us together
.

“Saya,” Demine hissed. “Look!”

Saya dropped her gaze to the ground, where Demine was pointing with her snout.

The magic had slid from their bodies and gathered into a ring around the fish pond at their feet.

Before her eyes, the ring separated, forming four spheres of pure golden light. In the time it took for Saya to frown, to halt her singing to ask what was happening, the golden orbs broke in half, in unison, and fell away.

Revealing four baby dragons.

Demine gave a watery cry. “Oh, Saya!” And the City stopped singing.

In each of them, Saya saw those she loved—her mother's eyes, her father's emerald green scales. One had a jagged white stripe across its face like Demine's sister, and one was as blue as Demine herself.
 

“These are our children,” said Saya's mother's voice, too loud, too full for the atrium to contain. “They hold our memory, our spirit; born from the last of our power, the love of these people and the love between the very last of our blood daughters. Care for them and they will watch over and guide your City the way we always have.”
 

Saya felt the power leave her then, as she stepped away from the chain. She felt tired, drained, but swollen with an immense affection she could barely understand.

Demine was crying, kneeling before one of the babies and nuzzling its face with her own. “He looks like my father,” she said. “But with your father's coloring, and the eyes of my cousin Deana.”
 

Saya nodded. “They have a piece of all of us.”
 

Some of the people stepped forward, hovering near the little ones as if asking permission. With a nod from both Saya and her wife, the humans stepped forward, stroking and petting the babies. Saya hoisted one against her chest, her entire body trembling as it made little growling sounds beside her heart.

“I thought …” Saya's voice was thick as she spoke low to her wife amid the cries of delight and laughter at the little dragons' infant antics. “I thought the magic would keep us alive, give us another hundred years or more to stay together.”

The smile Demine gave her was sad and sweet. “Oh, love.” She butted her head against her wife's. “Our time is over. You need to accept that.”

Saya trailed her talons over the pair of little wings in her arms. They struggled, demanding to be let down, and she surrendered the little one to the City's affection.

“Knowing the City isn't alone, knowing the world will have a part of you—a part of us—still in it, I …” Her eyes met her wife's, her beautiful mate, the only one she had ever loved in her long, long life.
Her last night
. Demine got to see magic, feel the power of the old clan again. She got to hold the future in her arms, kiss its head, watch it unfurl its wings and snap its little baby fangs. Saya swallowed hard. “I think I'll be all right.”

Demine tenderly pressed their heads together. “You have a week to teach the City how to raise four baby dragons. Think you'll manage?”

Saya watched the humans playing with the infants and feeding them leftover snacks.
 

“I think I will.”
 

The two dragons smiled at each other as they slipped away from the festivities.

“Come, my love,” said Demine. “Let's go home and watch the sunrise.”

Their wings folded softly against each other, tails curling, never letting go.

About J. Lee Ellorris

J. Lee Ellorris is a bisexual writer, blogger, and all-around geek. Her work has appeared in
Vitality Magazine
, a LGBT literary magazine of which she is the senior editor, and will soon appear in the second issue of
Polychrome Ink
.
 

Acknowledgements

From the start,
Wings of Renewal
was a big project, full of new experiences and quite our share of worries. Yet every step of the way, we found incredible people to support and encourage us.
 

So first, thanks to Matt Larkin and IPB for being on board with this project, and allowing us to publish it! Many thanks to the solarpunk community for their immediate enthusiasm online. Your overuse of exclamation points and caps made us believe in the idea and renewed our determination to see it through.

To all the writers who took their time and energy to submit a story to us, thank you. Reading new entries was one of the most exciting parts of this adventure, and we are truly grateful for the stories we got to discover. In a similar vein, many thanks to the authors we accepted, for their incredible revisions, and for the many online connections forged through the editing process. Your willingness to chat and share excitement transformed the anthology from a two-person project into a group adventure, and we truly hope to do right by your collective awesomeness.
 

A special thanks to Agata, our wonderful cover artist, who was not only a charm to work with but created one of the most beautiful, badass nature dragons we have ever seen. Her art gives life to our anthology.

To everyone who interviewed us or talked about us, whether early on or close to release,
thank you
. Your interest fed us through the months of work, and we're grateful for the energy, and for the platform to share our thoughts on
Wings of Renewal
.

Last but certainly not least, to the family and friends who encouraged us along the way, who listened to our rants and, more frequently, to our squeals of excitement … thank you. Your support in our respective writing careers has always meant a lot, and will continue to do so every step of the way.

ABOUT THE EDITORS

Claudie and Brenda are both authors at Incandescent Phoenix Books. If you want to see more from them, check out their mailing lists.

If you enjoyed this read, please be sure to leave a review wherever you bought or downloaded it.

CLAUDIE ARSENEAULT

Stories have always been an important part of my life. From reading to roleplaying to writing, I can't think of a moment characters haven't lived in my head and I'm proud to be able to share them at last. I'm also a biochemist hailing from Quebec City, where I spend the rest of my time advocating diversity, gaming, reading and geeking over squids and hot air balloons.

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BRENDA J. PIERSON

Brenda J. Pierson wrote her first book at the age of six, in order to convince her parents to buy her a pet bunny. (She drew a picture of walking said bunny with a leash. Needless to say, it didn't work out.) Since then she's cultivated a love of literature and all things fantasy. Now she lives her life surrounded by books—writing them, editing them, and shelving them at her public library. It's fairly close to heaven.

She lives in her hometown of Tucson, Arizona, with her husband and two cats.

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