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DharSii had heard the story of the attack on the egg cave and the murder of her parents with cool distaste. He’d undoubtedly heard other such stories about dragons hunted right to the egg shelf, but she’d hoped for a stronger reaction. Of course, he’d been withdrawn since the suggestion of mating in the twinkling depths of the Lavadome.
The cave smelled as though some bears had taken up residence in the upper chamber, but at this time of year they were out getting fat on berries, honeycombs, and fish. Which was just as well; she didn’t care to fight bears, as they contented themselves with their own needs and left even the smallest hatch-lings alone. Only bats bothered to venture deeper. The smell of their excretions felt like a welcome.
The cave moss still glowed green, and the bats were, if anything, more numerous. She’d forgotten how small natural bats were. The oversized dragon-blood-sucking monstrosities of the Lavadome needed a different name.
Luckily, scavengers—both hominid and on four legs—had long since cleared away the last scrap of bone and scale.
“What are we looking for?” Wistala asked.
“I’m not sure, exactly. A piece of the puzzle. I know it’s small enough for a hominid to carry easily. Aklemere called it his ‘perspicacitor’.”
“I’ve never heard that word before. Is it a name?”
“You might interpret it as device that extends sight or brings understanding. It worked with the larger piece, the sun-shard, as the blighters called it.”
Wistala remembered the cave being so much larger. Why, the egg shelf wasn’t even a tail-length off the floor, yet she remembered it as a clifflike precipice.
“It would help more to know what it looks like than what it’s called.”
“Round or oval, and clear as glass when not in use. It may have been hollow, I don’t know—he wrote of images forming within. If it were hollow, it could be much larger.”
“With facets, you mean?”
“I believe so, since he states it was of the same material as the sun-shard. The only reference I’ve read describes it as round or oval and clear.”
Wistala couldn’t remember anything like that in the egg cave. Father had given her and Jizara very small gemstones to play with.
“I only had a quick glimpse of Father’s hoard. I’m sure whatever was in here, the dwarfs took.”
“Show me, please”
She pointed out the once-secret shaft. The boulder concealing it had been long since removed. He searched the little cave off it, then dropped a torf of flame to see how far down the shaft went.
“It’s not too deep. I’ll check it out.”
Wistala waited, her memories keeping her company, while DharSii plunged and sputtered and made noises that sounded as though he were rolling in mud. He came back up covered in black goo and stinking, glowing faintly from patches of cave moss….
“That was unpleasant. Nothing at the bottom but some bits of what I think was a saddle and some bones, well covered in muck and cave moss.”
“DharSii, if you do find what you believe to be the final piece in your puzzle, what do you intend to do with it?”
“It depends on what the secret turns out to be. Perhaps it’s a weapon of some kind, but I doubt it. Anklemere wrote that, having tamed the dragons, there were no more enemies to fear. He often wrote that he had all this power, but was trapped in a cage no mind, no matter how acute, could open. The sun-shard and the Lavadome and his perspicacitor were his ‘key to the cage.’ I’m learning to despise metaphor.”
Wistala had a hard lump in her gut telling her she’d forgotten something important. She called up every memory of her time as a hatchling in the cave, even mind pictures passed down from her parents. Nothing.
“Were there any other secret spots, perhaps something very inaccessible?”
“The pool? That’s where RuGaard used to come in and out. No! The tunnel, I remember the tunnel where Mother had us escape.”
She felt her throat close up as she remembered Mother’s last, desperate call—Climb, hatchlings, climb!
Wistala climbed onto the egg shelf and sure enough, the recess that hid the tunnel was still there, marked only by some water flow. Father would never have been able to get his horned head inside, but he might have been able to feel his way around with snout and tongue. She could use her eyes.
She searched the little chimney.
“Here is a sign, on this loose rock. I think if I put a little light in here you may just be able to make it out.” She spat a torf of fire on the opposite wall, where it burned, throwing an orange light on the scrapings.
DharSii maneuvered his head as she pointed with her tail. “Yes! The Star of Silverhigh.”
