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“She managed to break her wing again in battle in the pass. Intentionally, as it turns out.”
“You don’t mean she did it to feign injury?”
“Quite the opposite, brother. She did it to tell the other Firemaids that they stood there until either victory or death. They bought a little of both with their valor.”
“Would you have her action rewarded?” the Copper asked.
“Yes. She did good service with the Hypatians in battle before the city.”
The Copper considered. Could he trust Wistala with the management of matters in Hypatia? Where would her loyalties ultimately lie?
“Your mate will be well, my Tyr. Her appetite is good, her heartbeat strong,” Ayafeeia said.
“Hmmm?”
“You looked worried. You always bob your head when you’re concerned about something,” she said. “Do not be alarmed. The secret is safe with me.”
Chapter 27
The summer wore on and left. That next fall was as brightly colored in the north as if all the blood spilled in the Iwensi Gap had run down off the mountains and been drawn up into the leaves of the trees.
Lada said it was the trees showing their approval of the dragon alliance—at a whisper from Rainfall.
In Hypatia, it made the day warm enough so that it was pleasant in the sunshine, but not so hot that the crowds filling the street to observe the ratification of the Grand Alliance sweltered.
The city reminded AuRon of bones all jumbled together. Unlike a rural village in the north, where the same set of carpenters built all the homes and barns in a similar fashion, varying details only to defeat prevailing winds or to take advantage of the lie of the land, the city, uniform in color but variegated in components, clustered with the haphazard density of whelks clinging to an old bit of pier.
The high road sloping up to the Eternal Light had never seen such a crowd—at least not in living memory, according to the old timekeeper on the fourth level AuRon spoke to.
Each of the columns flanking the road held a drake or drakka, leaning out and looking down, or a griffaran.
Wistala stood on the level just below the Eternal Light with her collection of elves and dwarves and men, a jewel glimmering above and between her eyes on a silver-chain headdress. He spotted Halfmoon, Ghastmath, and Fyerbin standing in the throng, ermine-edged robes held closed with jeweled brooches as big as a dwarf’s helmcap.
As usual, Wistala had been a fountain of information about Hypatian history and custom and the meaning of this oversized stairstool. His brain had become befuddled somewhere between the Contract of the Kings and the Restoration of Truth.
He watched his brother limp up the long road, those thick-beaked birds above, spine-painted demen in heavy, sun-shading helms all around, carrying not weapons but banners in thick limbs. The crowd stared at them in particular, a rarer sight than even long-haired elephants—which trailed at the back, bearing booty taken from the Ironriders.
The Copper looked well, thick scales polished to the highest sheen, trimmed neatly and, he suspected, subtly edged with black paint to make them weave fascinating patterns as he stepped. One hardly noticed that he limped.
He had enough sense to keep those horrible bat creatures out of view, if they were with him.
Strange, the difference that glass made. The Copper no longer looked vaguely stupid with sleep, but alert as a startled snake.
AuRon saw Natasatch and the hatchlings—he really must stop calling them hatchlings, for they were drakes and drakka now—and edged over toward them. They’d been in and out of the dragon-parade at the old circus pavilions all morning, meeting the Lavadome representatives of the Grand Alliance.
“This is how it should be,” Aumoahk said, sighing in satisfaction at the display with a slight whistle through his slit nostril.
“Father. Tremendous news!” Ausurath said, his sii spread gravely as he bowed to his father, saa jumping all about and tail thumping as though they belonged to a different drake. “The Tyr had promised me a place in the Drakwatch. It’s the surest path to the Aerial Host. NoSohoth himself told me so!”
“The Firemaidens do all the real work,” Varatheela said. “Nilrasha says that if you want a lot of noise and dirt, summon the Drakwatch. If you want a victory, call in the Firemaids.”
AuRon read excitement in all their faces. Their father, dull and gray and full of little but correction and reproach, how could he compare against such shining glory? Had he lost his hatchlings to the Copper? Of all that stood or slithered or flew through the two worlds, him?
You have doubts, Natasatch thought to him. Even on a day such as this.
It’s my temper. The pageantry’s nice enough, I suppose. It’s this Grand Alliance business. Everyone is fresh off fighting for their lives and sharing out spoils. It’ll look different after the first famine when the hominids start grumbling about how much dragons eat.
The Copper and the Hypatian high officials bowed to each other, speaking words long arranged. He’d heard most of it from Wistala, grand-sounding bargaining that put a lengthy dwarf-contract to shame.
