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“My Queen, I suppose I should tell you that I’m to kill you,” Shadowcatch said, slurring a little. He was a great eater and an ever greater drinker of wine, and the Tyr had recently given him some barrels of brandy-fortified syrup, the tribute of grateful elvish winemakers on the Ku-Zuhu coast whose fields and cellars were no longer being raided by Inland Sea Pirates.
Wistala couldn’t have been more shocked if the world had turned upside down.
“My own mate’s bodyguard, an assassin?”
“Don’t misunderstand. I’ve no intention of killing you now. Your mate’s been so kind to me. I was hired by the Wheel of Fire dwarfs to hunt you down and kill you. But seeing as most of ’em are lying dead on the battlefield, I doubt anyone will be asking for their upfronts back.”
“Why tell me?” Wistala asked.
Shadowcatch looked discomfited. “I’m not a clever dragon like some here. But I know when a fight is on the way. I can just tell, the way some dragons look at me, they’re guessing which way I’ll jump if there’s an attempt on your mate’s life. I wanted to tell you about the dwarfs hiring me so you’d know that you could trust me. But at the same time, if I don’t kill you, I feel like I’m breaking an oath.”
Wistala thought furiously. “What were the terms?”
“Kill you, bring back your head to prove it, and then I’d get the rest of my coin.”
“Was there a time limit set on the job?”
“No, though they wanted one. But I told them with the whole world for you to hide in, it’d take a while to track you down.”
“Then let’s put off the day of reckoning. The way things are shaping up, I may very well end up dead in any case. Should fate overtake me, you’re welcome to my head and your reward.”
* * *
The Copper watched the questioning from the unusual perspective of the audience ledges.
The old dueling pit under Imperial Rock was roughly oval, sand-bottomed with lines of ledges that could accommodate many dragons, depending on how willing they were to be squashed. When very full, thralls pulled chains that worked winglike flaps moving in and out of the two exits, one leading to the Lavadome and the other up into Imperial Rock.
A unique, rising ledge projected out into the arenalike sand pit. When it was used for dueling, a neutral dragon would oversee the duel from that vantage, ready to intervene in the event one of the duelists received aid from a nonduelist or fought with non-natural weapons. Now the promontory held the Tyr as he listened to witnesses and heard evidence and held debates over important issues when he wanted to hear other opinions.
Now NoSohoth reclined on the Tyr’s ledge, and looked as though he enjoyed his view. There were enough spectators so that every fan-chain was employed, every oliban brazier was lit, and still the air was thick with stale air and dragon-musk.
The Skotl and Wyrr clans gathered on either side of the arena, with the Ankelenes scattered about. Drakwatch and Firemaid drakes and drakka were grouped around him and Wistala.>“I believe there are three important pieces to this enigma. One is the Lavadome entirely, the second is the sun-shard. The third is a smaller crystal. They might be compared to your body—the Lavadome is the muscular meat, the sun-shard is the heart, and the third is the mind.”
“So where is the third?”
“It went from Silverhigh to Scabia’s Sadda-Vale. From there, she told me that a dragon named AuNor took it. He was fond of looking into it—according to Scabia it gave some visions… others nightmares.”
“AuNor!” Wistala said. “My father’s father?”
“The same. He passed down the traditions of the Silverhigh Star to you and your brother… or at least he began to.”
“What is the Silverhigh Star?”
“Order of the Silverhigh Star, is the proper name,” DharSii said. “A league of dragons devoted to improving dragonkind and its place in the world. From good dragons, better was one of their sayings.”
“I’ve never come across anything about an Order of the Silverhigh Star among the Ankelenes. Though I’ve limited my studies to the physical sciences, for the most part,” Rayg said.
“Its influence was waning even before Silverhigh fell,” DharSii said. “Your mother sang one of its songs to her hatchlings.”
“If you find your missing piece of the puzzle, what will you do with it?” the Copper asked.
“Unite the pieces. Very carefully.”
“So it will belong to the Lavadome.”
“It belongs to all dragons, I believe,” DharSii said. “I would like to examine your home cave. With Wistala to guide me.”
Home cave. Bitter words.
