Adrissu sighed, rubbing his temples with one hand. Of course, all his headaches would coalesce into one far bigger issue.
“I may know something about that as well,” he muttered. “Let me be sure I understand correctly. Tyrsun the Red is your son, and he has been bothering the people of Wintergrove to the point that they’re actively commissioning a weapon that they can use to kill him, and presumably other dragons. And you want me to do what exactly? If Tyrsun wouldn’t listen to either of you, why would he ever listen to me?”
“We’ve given up on trying to talk sense into him,” Heriel sighed, shaking her head. “No, we just want help dealing with this weapon. We had hoped since you have some interaction with the humans in the area, you might know something about it, or at least give us more information, so we can come up with a plan to get rid of it.”
“I see,” Adrissu said, considering. For a long moment, all three of them remained silent, standing with several yards of distance between them, each eyeing the other with distrust. He did not especially want to work together with them for anything, but the creation of a weapon strong enough to threaten the life of a dragon was the exact situation he had feared—one he was unsure he could handle on his own. Making sure such a weapon was never created would be in the best interest of not only him, but all dragons. At the very least, if such a weapon existed, the people of Polimnos might finally try seeking out the hiding place of Zamnes, since rumors still circulated that the scourge of Polimnos remained sleeping beneath the city.
“And we—” Naydruun said abruptly, then glanced hesitantly at Heriel, before clearing their throat and starting again. “That is,Iwould like to also... apologize to you. For our last meeting. I offended you in your home, which was wrong of me. Please accept my apology.”
“It was long ago,” Adrissu muttered, though the memory of that time stung anew as he thought of it. “Well, I accept your apology. And this is disturbing news, so I would be remiss if I did not at least try to help. I will tell you what I know.”
The relief that flooded the other two seemed palpable, and Heriel offered him a hesitant smile. “Thank you, Zamnes.”
Over the course of the next hour, Adrissu explained he had come to Wintergrove a few years ago to investigate the dragon because it was nearest to his own home, and because he had been implicated in the death of the yellow dragon that had once been his closest neighbor. Following that incident, he decided he needed to have a better understanding of his immediate neighbors, even if he did not want to approach them directly. This was how he met Daiana, how he learned about the antimagic weapon she wielded. Luckily, he took it from her, largely nullifying the threat of her presence near Tyrsun or any other dragons. When they asked what he had done with it, he claimed to have destroyed it, after being unable to figure out how to replicate it. It was a lie, as he had neither destroyed it, nor puzzled out how to reproduce it; but his frustration was real enough that they seemed to trust his claim.
Then, he explained, one student at his school recently began to study the use of steam to augment ranged weapons, strengthening them. This, he explained, was unprecedented, and was immediately banned; but now that this Granville Kipp was a graduate, and no longer associated with the academy, he expected that the human continued his studies and developments. The second school at Feld Heslyn was close enough to Wintergrove that he confessed he would be surprised if it was not Granville Kipp himself who was helping Daiana create this magical crossbow.
“Could you find out for certain?” Heriel asked him.
“I can,” Adrissu affirmed.
In turn, the two of them explained what they knew, which was not much more than they had already told Adrissu. They had first learned of the weapon’s development about six months ago, meaning development on it had begun even before Kipp had graduated from the Academy—so somehow Daiana had heard of his research, or perhaps he had reached out to her first, since she was something of a local celebrity. Tyrsun had complained about it to them shortly after encountering the prototype of the weapon, but had not seemed to grasp the dire consequences of its mere existence, instead asking how he might intimidate the city further to prevent them from brandishing such a thing at him again.
“Do you recall exactly what he described?” Adrissu asked.
“Yes,” Naydruun sighed. “He said he had landed in the town square to snatch someone up, when an older human woman with a scar on her face—this Daiana you mentioned—rushed him with a crossbow that seemed larger than was normal. He said he heard it hiss loudly, then it fired a bolt at him with much more speed than he anticipated. The shot grazed him, wounding him, which he didn’t expect. It frightened him, so he flew away, then came to us perhaps two weeks later to... ask our advice, which on its own was worrying. He doesn’t usually—well, he does not like that we disapprove of how he handles the humans in his territory, so before this we had not spoken in perhaps three or four decades.”
Other than that, they knew no more than he did.
“I am in the middle of something,” Adrissu sighed. “While this is concerning, it does not seem especially urgent to me. Give me a few weeks to consider it, and we can reconvene in Polimnos to discuss this further.”
The pair glanced between themselves again, communicating silently. It was aggravating, but for a brief moment, Adrissu wondered if anyone had ever observed the same phenomenon between him and his mate. Had they felt the same? The amusement of the thought soothed the sting of irritation.
“We did not want to impose,” Naydruun said slowly, not meeting his gaze. “And I understand you do not want me to return to Polimnos. If you’d like, just Heriel could meet you there, especially if my presence would upset your mate—”
“My mate is dead,” Adrissu interrupted. After an uncomfortable beat of silence, he added, “For now.”
Naydruun glanced back at Heriel, looking surprised and unsettled; but Heriel was now looking right at Adrissu with a look of sadness that even took him by surprise.
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” she said softly, shaking her head. “That must be very difficult.”
Adrissu lowered his head, breaking their eye contact. “I appreciate your sympathy.”
For a long moment the three of them were silent again, then Naydruun cleared their throat and continued cautiously,
“If you are inviting both of us, or only Heriel, we will accept either way. Simply tell us when.”
“You may both come,” he said stiffly. “I should be back in my territory this time next month. That will give me enough time to think this over and perhaps investigate a bit. Is this suitable for you?”
“Yes,” they replied in unison.
This agreed, they said their goodbyes. He watched as Heriel and Naydruun retreated into the forest, to whatever clearing they had landed in. A moment later, the unmistakable sound of heavy wings lifting off told him they were on their way. He remained where he was, watching the sky through the trees, until his awareness of their presence faded away. Only then did he return to the village, though to Dirge’s dismay, he was short on the herbs he had meant to gather.
Chapter Nineteen
Adrissu’sfinaltwoweeksstudying under Dirge were less productive than he would have liked, but the issue with Tyrsun proved a significant distraction. He spent much of his waking time mulling over the situation and considering what to do with the information that Heriel and Naydruun had given him.
The easiest thing, of course, would be to simply kill everyone involved—including Tyrsun—but somehow he doubted Heriel and Naydruun would be happy with that option, at least not as a first choice. They did not seem to have the best relationship with their son, but that was not uncommon between dragons; after all, he himself had seen his own parents only once or twice in the past few centuries. He was sure many dragons had even less contact with their progenitors once they were no longer hatchlings. Tyrsun was particularly arrogant, though, if even his parents seemed displeased with his recent behavior.
