Now William frowned. “Why not?”
“Because she is too different. She prefers healing mortals to philosophy or creating art, and she likes humans better than dragons.”
“Healing is a noble art,” William argued, seeming annoyed that anyone would dare to criticize his Coquelicot.
“It is abnormal, at least the way she does it,” Cerridwen said. “Most dragons can heal, but it hurts us. Badly. It is painful, and we must expend life force on it, which means we will not live as long.”
Elizabeth nodded slowly. That explained why Rana Akshaya acted as if she was bestowing a great gift when she healed Jenny. And if she had indeed taken time off her life to do so, they owed her a great debt.
“Coquelicot says it does not hurt, and she loves to do it.” William was digging his heels in on the dragon's behalf.
“I am not criticizing her,” Cerridwen said fretfully. “Just explaining why they find her odd. I cannot blame her for it; they think me strange, too, because I am a Seer and I grew up far from my Nest.”
Elizabeth hated the idea of the other dragons looking down on her beloved Cerridwen. “That only shows your courage and your great Talent. They would all be in grave danger without your gift.”
Cerridwen laid her head in Elizabeth's lap, which was not as comfortable as it had been when she was smaller. Elizabeth stroked her scales anyway.
But Darcy's brow was still furrowed. “When Coquelicot does her healings, does it cut her life short, too?”
Cerridwen closed her eyes, as if tired of this discussion. “I cannot say. Perhaps not, if it does not hurt her.”
Elizabeth was tired of questions with no answers.
Darcy hurried to the ballroom as soon as he heard Coquelicot’s call, and just barely arrived before Elizabeth and Frederica. Their three dragons were already there, along with Rowan, who had been otherwise absent since Roderick’s departure.
The tip of Quickthorn's tail was twitching back and forth, as if staying still was a battle. “We failed. There was no agreement,” she growled. “The Great Covenant of Concealment still stands.”
“But –” Cerridwen began.
“I know! They are fools, and they did not want you there because they knew you would have a vision and force them to face their idiocy.”
Coquelicot added gently, “No one likes change. We have lived in hiding our entire lives, and it is hard to think of doing anything else. Even when it is clear we must do so or perish.” A wave of grief rolled through her aura. “As my Nest already has learned.”
“That is why we must change,” Quickthorn snapped. “Your Nest tried so many ways to defend themselves against the Evil Emperor, and still they fell. Even with our help; we made suggestions and sent all the supplies we could spare. The same will happen to us when Napoleon invades - unless we make a different choice.” Her words had the resonance of an old argument oft repeated. “Sycamore and Companion Amelia knew that, which is why they broke the Covenant on their own. But no one has had the courage to follow them!”
“What choice?” Darcy asked. “Do you mean to fight?”
Quickthorn bridled, as did the other dragons. “Of course not. But we could do more to keep his army away, to stop them at the natural borders, as your soldier friend suggested.”
Puzzled, Darcy glanced at Elizabeth. She said, “Colonel Fitzwilliam spent time with the dragons here while you were in France.”
That was... an interesting turn of events. She had told him of Richard's visit earlier, but not that he had designed a defense strategy for the Nest. Then again, it was completely in character. “What did he recommend that you do?”
“Not that it matters, since they will not do it! But I took his map, and no one stopped me.” Quickthorn produced a large rolled-up paper from nowhere and tossed it to him.
Darcy took it to one of the side tables and spread it out. He leaned forward to examine it, Elizabeth joining him on one side and Frederica on the other. It was an artfully inked representation of the general area, the sparsely populated Dark Peak and the valleys below it that included the Pemberley lands and many of the neighboring estates and villages. And certain hilltops and peaks were marked with crosses.
Quickthorn indicated with a sharp talon the roads that entered the area. “He said we should ward those, with guards to determine who should beallowed to enter. Any foreigners could be subject to spells of confusion and misleading. We could also set up watchtowers on hill-tops and peaks, so that we would have warning of anyone approaching on other routes. And we could prepare defenses along these borders.” She snorted, a few sparks emerging from her nostrils. “Or we could do nothing, and wait for the mad dragon to destroy us!”
“How could you manage that?” Frederica asked. “Only three of your dragons have companions, and you would need dozens to do all that.”
Not to mention that Elizabeth could not drop everything to keep patrol with Cerridwen.
Rowan spoke, although sounding reluctant. “We found several mortals suitable for the lesser bond, which would allow more of our dragons to leave the Nest. We could hire others to serve as watchmen, as our ancestors did in the days of yore. At least that is what we proposed.”
It was not a bad plan, and likely the best possible one, since Richard had produced it. But the fact remained, the one that only Darcy truly understood. It did not matter how many humans or dragons stood guard if Napoleon himself came. All of them would fall victim to his ability to control minds.
Still, if the dragons' plans were enough to slow the invasion in their small section of Derbyshire, it could save many lives.
