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“When the Ghioz rose, they fought a war against the Ironriders in Dairuss. The Ghoiz had their own wizards, disciples of Anklemere of old, and the Ghioz managed to burn her walking, living hut of woven trees, and the Ghioz believed the old witch dead.
“She had a new version of herself born in Ghioz, though, and this time her rise was even faster—doing services for the rich and powerful and in turn taking what they gained and more.
“I’ll tell you something else. I remember little of my early life, my being brought here, and my marriage. I lived as though in a waking dream—I don’t know if dragons dream, but you often move about as though someone else is controlling your actions.
“Then one day I woke up. My husband had died on a trip and I found myself in a palace, with servants and wealth and a parade of people coming to seek my advice and assistance each morning. I didn’t begin to know how to get this merchant’s wife to love him again, or that young prince a ship that could weather any storm.”
“You believe the Red Queen was acting through you?” AuRon asked.
“I was presented to her when I was very young. She questioned me closely and had me play with a crystal ball. I remember how bright it was. Nothing changed after that. It wasn’t until my betrothal to Prince Dalparta that I began to have stranger and stranger dreams and then one day the dream didn’t end. I felt no fear—I felt nothing, to tell the truth. It just seemed a very long, very vivid dream. For some reason she gave up on me.”
“When was this?”
“While I was still young. I had not seen my eighteenth year then. Arranged marriages happen young in this land. It must have been twenty years ago or more.”
“About the time Ghioz fell,” AuRon said.
“So,” Wistala said, “the Red Queen was repeating her trick in the princedoms, it seems, but events in Ghioz intervened and she was destroyed.”
“You said you found a tree growing versions of herself?” Nissa asked.
“Yes, but not the way an apple tree produces apples, where they all grow at once. There were ‘fruits’ all at different stages of development, if you follow. I burned it and the creatures it was producing.”
Nissa took a deep breath. “My late husband had a younger brother who became a high minister of the Lion Order. They’re an old caste of warriors who call up their own militias and horse-levies when war requires. I could send him a message, but the last news I had of him, he was already involved in a war with the dragons over some islands farther south. They and their men are burning all the ships they can find.”
“Men flying with them?” Wistala asked.
“He said nothing of their tactics, only that there’d been losses of ships.”
“That would be NiVom’s Aerial Host, I expect,” AuRon said.
“I take it no dragons who could be convinced to fight on your side live here,” Wistala said.
“I’ve heard of none. There is a story of a dragon who lives with the blighters in the mountains to the north. He was so huge and furious, he destroyed an entire army underneath his impenetrable skin.”
AuRon snorted. His skin had been penetrated several times in that fight. But legends tend to treat facts as seeds—what eventually grows is what counts.
“We could make them think some dragons are fighting on your side.”
“It might slow them down. Give the princedoms time to organize.”
“They’ll need that. It takes forever to get them to agree on anything, from what I’m told by my brother-in-law.”
They bade farewell that night, lest they eat the poor widow out of house and home by noon the next day. AuRon promised to give Hieba news and Nissa promised to use what remained of her funds to visit Dairuss, if the Dragon Empire ever ceased its rampage.
They hurried south along the coast and soon found signs of war. Wrecked and burned ships could be seen in the surf or pulled up on the shore. They also found a dead, half-eaten whale rolling in the surf, with unmistakable arrow-shaped dragon-bites taken out of its fatty skin.
“The Aerial Host seeks to refill their firebladders with whale-fat,” AuRon said, as they bobbed in the warm salt water beside the body.
AuRon and Wistala marked a pair of ridden dragons wheeling high together and AuRon and Wistala landed.
“My guess is that’s a patrol over their camp.”
“Do you suppose they’re there? Sleeping?”
“It’s midday, but anything’s possible,” AuRon said.
“Keep hidden. I’ll go in fast and draw off the guards. If there aren’t any other dragons, I’ll attack. If there are, I’ll fly north as fast as I can. Stay down if I’m pursued and meet me later at Nissa’s palace.”
