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Shadowcatch threw himself in front of NiVom, who was moving in to protect Ibidio. Old Ibidio, who’d probably never opened her mouth in battle since she’d breathed her first fire at the end of hatchlinghood, froze in fury. Nilrasha struck her like a charging elephant and they clawed briefly, frantically, at the edge of the parapet before disappearing over the side.
“Nilrasha,” the Copper shrieked, launching himself into the air. His throne didn’t matter. The only thing that counted was his mate.
Together, the combatants plunged into the valley, bouncing off the sheer side of Nilrasha’s eyrie. Ibidio’s wings weren’t up to supporting both.
He folded his wings and dove. If his artificial joint gave way, so be it.
He heard a crashing of timber below. Startled black-and-white birds took to the sky, marking their fall.
The Copper opened his wings, daring them to give way and stop him from striking the valley floor next to his mate. But Rayg’s engineering supported him.
He found Nilrasha, bleeding from torn-away scale but otherwise miraculously uninjured, atop the broken body of Ibidio. Sightless eyes stared in different directions.
So passed the mother of his first mate.
“I can’t even die right,” Nilrasha managed between gasps. She licked him across the snout, exposing a broken fang.
“You’re just lucky,” the Copper said.
NiVom and his gargoyles came down at a safe pace, followed by Shadowcatch and the Aerial Host escort.
“Well, Nilrasha, I suppose I owe you a thank-you,” NiVom said. “Ibidio and her clique would have given me some difficulties. You’ve just strengthened my hold on the Lavadome.”
Nilrasha spat blood at him.
“Why don’t you just kill us and get it over with?” the Copper asked.
“No, RuGaard. I want you to go live with cold memories, in hiding, as I did. As nothing but a memory, you’re bound to improve. The dragons will forget your limp and your stupid expression and only remember your victories. But you and your wretched mate aging in exile, growing ever weaker—that’ll take the glamour off your name.”
“Then at least give me leave to live quietly with my mate, here in her eyrie. I can hunt and fish for us both. I’ll never enter the Lavadome again, or so much as offer advice to a young member of the Aerial Host.”
“No, Nilrasha’s too clever. She’s been your brains for years. You two might get up to something. The best safeguard of your good behavior is your mate, here, where I can keep an eye on her—and you as far away as possible. The other side of the world would do nicely.”
“You would forcibly part mated dragons?” Nilrasha asked.
“Your mating, if those ridiculous ascents you attempt could be called a mating flight, is of dubious provenance,” NiVom said.
“Now hear this, dragonkind. You are stripped of the honorable name RuGaard. From now on you’re just ‘Batty’ to us. It was good enough for you in the drakwatch caves, it’ll be good enough for the future. This is my bargain, a better one than I got: as long as you remain outside the Dragon Empire, you and Nilrasha will come to no harm. But set sii back on our lands and I’ll see to it that she’s thrown from her resort. Only this time, I’ll make sure she lands on something sharper than Ibidio.”
Chapter 19
They flew in stages, resting frequently in the cool sea. It was not a quick trip—their escort frequently demanded that they stop and argue the correct course so as not to pass too near the Hypatian coast, or to circumnavigate some island belonging to the Empire by map rather than actual occupation. AuRon thought it petty of their escort, and it reminded him of the Wizard Wrimere’s prickly vindictiveness. The escort left them near the great neck, turning home for Hypatia.
“Fair winds guide you to rest,” one of them said. The Copper, prodded, received a final thank-you for his promotion into the Aerial Host.
“Foolish of you, Father,” AuSurath said. “You’d think a dragon with no scale would be more sensitive to the direction in which the winds are blowing.”
He was silent and thoughtful the rest of the flight.
AuRon experienced the moment every dragon father must, when his son breathes fire into his face—metaphorically, of course, here in the windy skies of the Inland Ocean.
Wistala said little on the flight. AuRon had heard much of her exploits. He believed this was the first time she’d been really defeated.
His brother flew mechanically, as though strings controlled his movements. Or perhaps it was just the false joint mid wing.
Once they made it to the island, after a few days they’d decide what to do. AuRon found himself wishing he could have DharSii available—he was a strong, reasonable dragon who’d be a stout ally and a clear-headed counselor.
To AuRon, the Copper seemed increasingly numb to all that had happened. He spoke less and less at greater and greater intervals, and when he did speak it was only a commonplace, such as that he was tired or hungry. AuRon suspected that were it not for Wistala and Shadowcatch nudging him along from either side, he would have just flown aimlessly until he dropped from exhaustion into the sea.
