Draconas? I think I
have a right to know—considering that all three want me dead.”
Grald was silent.
Ven guessed the dragon was trying to decide how much to reveal, how much to
keep to himself.
“You have nothing
to fear from any of them, Dragon’s Son,” Grald said at last. “You are right
about your brother. The king’s son is soft and weak and gullible. He is running
back to the arms of his papa, and I will let him run. He has the girl with him.
Soon”— Grald’s lips twisted in what passed with him for a smile—”you will have
your revenge on both of them.”
“Good,” Ven said,
though he wondered what that meant. He waited, hoping Grald would fill in the
details.
“As for any harm
that might come to you,” Grald continued, “the monks will protect you—if you
let them.”
Ven scowled and
shook his head.
“Meanwhile, you
must rest, return to health. When you are stronger, I will tell you everything
you need to know.”
The dragon
departed. He sent the monk back in.
Ven ordered the
monk back out, telling him to shut the door and leave him alone. The monk did
as the dragon’s son commanded. He didn’t go far, however. Ven heard shuffling
feet outside his door—two monks taking up their positions. At least two.
Ven lay back down,
exhausted by the mental struggle; as drained as if he and the dragon had
battled physically—an unpleasant thought that gave him pause. Someday, if he
was to fulfill his oath and avenge his mother, he would have to battle the
dragon, a fight that would be both physical and mental.
Ven had no idea
how this was to be accomplished. He was not ready for such a battle. He knew
enough about the dragon-magic to defend himself against Grald, but that was
all. Ven thought back to the time when Draconas had offered to teach him about
the magic. The child, Ven, had refused. He didn’t want the dragon-magic that
was part of him, as he didn’t want the dragon legs, the dragon claws, the
dragon-blood.
He still didn’t
want it, any of it. The monks regarded him with supposed reverence, but he
could see the fear and loathing in their eyes. The same fear and loathing that
he’d seen, briefly, in Marcus’s eyes. The same that he saw, always, in Evelina’s
eyes.
Much as they
loathed him, they could not loathe him as much as he loathed the dragon part of
himself. He had to overcome that. The man, Ven, felt differently than the
child. He had to learn how to use the magic. He would need it to destroy Grald.
One thing Ven had
learned or at least guessed from his mental battle with Grald.
The dragon had no
idea what had become of Draconas.
6
THIS WAS ONLY THE
SECOND SESSION OF THE PARLIAMENT OF Dragons the young female, Lysira, had ever
attended. Anora’s urgent summons to convene Parliament had come unexpectedly.
Given the current crisis, the unexpected was only to be expected, or so Lysira
concluded.
She was pleased at
the prospect of the meeting—not so much because of the meeting itself, although
she found those fascinating. She was pleased because this meant she would have
another chance to see the Walker, Draconas. If Lysira had been a human female,
her heart would have fluttered at the thought. Being dragon, Lysira’s heart
thudded calmly. Her dreams trembled.
Dragons prefer to
live their lives in isolation, free to dream their dreams alone and
undisturbed. They come together to mate and raise their young, and that only
grudgingly, for neither much enjoys the physical process of mating, and both
are glad to have it done and over with as swiftly as possible. For dragons,
love is the mating of two minds, not two bodies; the blending of two wondrous
dreams, the merging of fantastic colors and delightful images. The true mating
ritual takes place in the minds of the pair and may go on for years, as they
work together to build the nest that will house their young and create the
elaborate labyrinthine illusions that baffle intruders and keep the young safe
from harm
have a right to know—considering that all three want me dead.”
Grald was silent.
Ven guessed the dragon was trying to decide how much to reveal, how much to
keep to himself.
“You have nothing
to fear from any of them, Dragon’s Son,” Grald said at last. “You are right
about your brother. The king’s son is soft and weak and gullible. He is running
back to the arms of his papa, and I will let him run. He has the girl with him.
Soon”— Grald’s lips twisted in what passed with him for a smile—”you will have
your revenge on both of them.”
“Good,” Ven said,
though he wondered what that meant. He waited, hoping Grald would fill in the
details.
“As for any harm
that might come to you,” Grald continued, “the monks will protect you—if you
let them.”
Ven scowled and
shook his head.
“Meanwhile, you
must rest, return to health. When you are stronger, I will tell you everything
you need to know.”
The dragon
departed. He sent the monk back in.
Ven ordered the
monk back out, telling him to shut the door and leave him alone. The monk did
as the dragon’s son commanded. He didn’t go far, however. Ven heard shuffling
feet outside his door—two monks taking up their positions. At least two.
Ven lay back down,
exhausted by the mental struggle; as drained as if he and the dragon had
battled physically—an unpleasant thought that gave him pause. Someday, if he
was to fulfill his oath and avenge his mother, he would have to battle the
dragon, a fight that would be both physical and mental.
Ven had no idea
how this was to be accomplished. He was not ready for such a battle. He knew
enough about the dragon-magic to defend himself against Grald, but that was
all. Ven thought back to the time when Draconas had offered to teach him about
the magic. The child, Ven, had refused. He didn’t want the dragon-magic that
was part of him, as he didn’t want the dragon legs, the dragon claws, the
dragon-blood.
He still didn’t
want it, any of it. The monks regarded him with supposed reverence, but he
could see the fear and loathing in their eyes. The same fear and loathing that
he’d seen, briefly, in Marcus’s eyes. The same that he saw, always, in Evelina’s
eyes.
Much as they
loathed him, they could not loathe him as much as he loathed the dragon part of
himself. He had to overcome that. The man, Ven, felt differently than the
child. He had to learn how to use the magic. He would need it to destroy Grald.
One thing Ven had
learned or at least guessed from his mental battle with Grald.
The dragon had no
idea what had become of Draconas.
6
THIS WAS ONLY THE
SECOND SESSION OF THE PARLIAMENT OF Dragons the young female, Lysira, had ever
attended. Anora’s urgent summons to convene Parliament had come unexpectedly.
Given the current crisis, the unexpected was only to be expected, or so Lysira
concluded.
She was pleased at
the prospect of the meeting—not so much because of the meeting itself, although
she found those fascinating. She was pleased because this meant she would have
another chance to see the Walker, Draconas. If Lysira had been a human female,
her heart would have fluttered at the thought. Being dragon, Lysira’s heart
thudded calmly. Her dreams trembled.
Dragons prefer to
live their lives in isolation, free to dream their dreams alone and
undisturbed. They come together to mate and raise their young, and that only
grudgingly, for neither much enjoys the physical process of mating, and both
are glad to have it done and over with as swiftly as possible. For dragons,
love is the mating of two minds, not two bodies; the blending of two wondrous
dreams, the merging of fantastic colors and delightful images. The true mating
ritual takes place in the minds of the pair and may go on for years, as they
work together to build the nest that will house their young and create the
elaborate labyrinthine illusions that baffle intruders and keep the young safe
from harm
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