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The petal at the end of the Dangler’s line soared like a bird, reeling out a tail and more of the slender, liquid line of Silver’s hair. Gusts of hot air whipped the petal back and forth; it shimmered briefly then expanded diagonally and flattened to catch the wind, more a kite than a flower, given the conditions.
The pink petal caught the great dragon’s eye only by the fisherman’s most excellent and finely-honed attention to detail in the adjustments he made to the line of the kite, as though he was back in his lagoon waiting patiently to lure a fish throughout the centuries. And still he ran upon the spinning cylinder of waveglass beneath his feet, only vaguely aware of the fact that the water was nearly run dry and the carpet unrolling underneath him would come to an end as abruptly as the edge of a cliff.
Syn turned its head down from the comet, mesmerized by the glowing kite. Its white-hot heart buzzed like a giant dragonfly inside its chest, ravenous for the seductive, magic flower.
The unrolling waveglass came to its last drop. The Dangler took his last step on the frozen carpet and fell backwards off the edge. His purple cape billowed up and ensconced him like the shell of an egg as he fell a thousand tails to the sea, staring up at the rain, at the pink kite zipping after him, and at the furious red dragon diving straight down in rapid pursuit.
As Syn shot after the falling petal, hypnotized by the glowing lure just out of reach, the great dragon assumed a streamlined form in the sheering wind. Its heat condensed around its white-hot heart, its body crystallized like a red diamond, fire as hard as stone. Jaws without hunger closed around the pink petal.
The sea below the fisherman began to twist. The water spiraled out, a whirlpool in reverse, throwing a circular ripple away from the axis that grew to a tidal wave. In the center of the spiral there appeared first a wooden pole with an arrow on top. Then, as the liquid helix untwisted, a shape like a fin appeared, burnt black, which grew into a huge tower of living coral. Before the arrow on the wooden pole could spin around three times, Coral Wing jutted out of the sea within view of the western coast. The pinnacle of Wingtip Tower speared up in between the falling fisherman and Syn and drove itself deep into the great dragon’s breast. Torrents of plasma erupted from the demon’s goring wound and spilled down the sides of the tower.
The Dangler fell all the way to the sea with a crash that sounded like the water itself shattered to pieces.