Then we will look again.
He sighed, ready for Snow to take to the air straight away expecting to find the alchemists before the sun set. And then when she didn't, she'd fly into a rage, and he and Nadira would cower and pray to whatever gods might hold sway over a vengeful dragon, and he'd wish that Sollos was here because somehow Sollos had always known what to do.
'I should run off and leave you,' he muttered.
I would not let you, Kemir. Not now.
But Snow didn't take off; she cautiously stepped closer to the other dragon.
Get down and hide among the trees for a while. This one has a deeper rage than mine inside it.
They didn't fly away to continue the search that day, nor the next, nor the one after that. Instead, Snow stopped looking for the alchemists and stayed with the dark dragon for a month. Sometimes she ignored him for days at a time. She hunted alone and brought back food for the other dragon. Kemir, in his turn, hunted with his bow. He kept himself and Nadira alive. The mountain valleys were cold and wet and treacherous. Ordinary men died in places like this, but there was always food and water, and shelter as well, if you knew where to look for it.
Finally Kemir decided he'd had enough. He'd barely even seen Snow for four days, and the two dragons were flying together now.
'They don't need us any more,' he said to Nadira. 'They've forgotten us. When they remember, they'll eat us.'
They packed what little they had and left, striking west. He didn't know where they were, but the Worldspine ran from north to south, so heading west was bound to take them back into the realms sooner or later.
Snow caught them three days later. She landed as close as she could, while the other dragon circled over their heads.
There are two of us now. Her thoughts didn't seem angry, but Kemir felt the conviction behind them.
'Is that one of you for each of us?' he asked. He couldn't help himself.
There is one harness for your kind. It is of no consequence to me to wear it.
'And what if I don't want to ride you.'
Ash will burn you where you stand.
'Ash?' Kemir glanced up. From below, the war-dragon simply looked black.
Ash. That is the name your kind gave him, and now that he has awoken, he hungers for the same vengeance. So, Kemir, will you ride with us?
'Do I have a choice?'
You always have the choice to die.
Wearily, Kemir climbed up the ropes onto Snow's back. It took him a good part of the day to adjust Ash's harness so that it fitted her properly and didn't threaten to tip them out every time Snow launched herself into the air. They turned north once more, Ash flying alongside them. The black dragon made Kemir's skin crawl. Snow's indifference was bad enough -- but to Ash, Kemir and Nadira simply didn't exist. His thoughts, when he spoke to Snow, were clear enough. Men and women were food, nothing more.
They resumed their search. One fruitless day passed and then another, and then, in the middle of the wilderness, Snow spied a cluster of wagons driving along a hidden track.
Amid the burning wreckage Snow rose onto her hind legs. In her foreclaws she was holding a body. Alive! Kemir, this one is alive. Ask it! Make it tell us where the alchemists are to be found!
Kemir shouted, 'Then put it down before you break it!' As he walked towards her, Ash swooped low over the track.
Hungry!
Snow looped her tail around one of the bodies and hurled it into the air. Ash caught it on the fly.
You should have waited, Ash thought reproachfully. The smell of them burning has given me an appetite, yet you've left me nothing to sate it. At least, nothing still breathing that I can chase.
Kemir shivered.
Soon. Snow cocked her head as Kemir came closer, and gently lowered the twitching soldier onto the ground in front of him.
'I said don't break him,' Kemir growled. 'When you want to know something, all you have to do is pick someone up and shout inside their head. When they've stopped screaming in terror, the next thing they'll do is tell you anything you want to know. Even if they lie to you, you'll know it. What you don't do is crush his ribcage while he's still shitting his trousers.' He looked at the man and cursed. 'You're as impatient as a two-year-old.'
Snow snarled at him. I am seven years hatched, Kemir.
'You're as impatient as a human two-year-old. You have to wait until whoever you've got can properly understand what's about to happen to them. Then ask your questions.' He turned quickly away and knelt beside the soldier. If Snow decided that now was finally the time to eat him, he didn't want to see it coming. 'Have you got any more? This one's probably past caring.'
No. Make this one tell me what I want to know!
The soldier was coughing up frothing blood. Snow had caved in one side of his chest. It was a miracle the man was still alive.
'Soldier?' Kemir got down onto his hands and knees so he could talk into the man's ear. 'Soldier? Can you hear me? What's your name?'
The soldier mumbled something that Kemir couldn't make out.
Iyan. He knows himself as Iyan of the house of Liahn. Next to Snow, Ash came to watch. The war-dragon looked bemused. Then he seemed to sneer and turned his attention to the bolt still embedded in Snow's shoulder.
'Iyan? The dragons are their own masters here. They mean to burn the alchemists. Every one of them. They will stop the alchemists from making their potions. All the dragons will be free. They'll burn us all. Every man, woman and child, every last one of us. No matter what it costs us, we must not let these dragons know where the alchemists are. Do you understand? If you know where they are, you must not even think about which way they are to be--'
That was as far as he got before a claw came down, and Ash drove the crossbow bolt into the soldier's chest, pinning him to the ground. The soldier gasped and was still.
Clever, Little One. Very clever.
'Well I hope he had a good think about all the things I told him not to tell you before you skewered him.' Kemir backed away from the dead soldier. Ash had never even acknowledged him before.
When we have all we need from you, I will 'skewer' you too. The dragon gestured with a wing along the track. That way. I have seen a place in his mind.
Ash didn't bother to wait, but that didn't matter since he was slower than Snow in the air.
As Kemir and Nadira strapped themselves into the harness on her back, Snow spoke in his head again. When you spoke to the broken man and told him of the things that would come to pass, and that he should not tell us or help us, I could not tell whether you were speaking only to trick him, or whether you meant every word. Which is the truth, Kemir?
Kemir grunted. 'I don't know. I couldn't tell either.'
47
Alliance and Betrayal
'The trouble is,' drawled Prince Jehal, 'that I'm simply not important enough.' He was lounging against the battlements on the top of the Tower of Dusk, quietly enjoying himself.
The night air was cool and fresh and clear. If he looked over the wall, he could pick out the night-watch patrols in the City of Dragons by the light of their lamps. Beyond the city the moon shimmered in the sky and in the Mirror Lakes below, and then the Purple Spur rose like a black wall, creeping up from the horizon into the sky, eating the stars as it went. Queen Shezira's feast had been sublime, far better than Speaker Hyram's. He felt sated, serene and relaxed. It helped his mood immensely to see that Queen Shezira was anything but. She paced back and forth across the top of the tower, face set in a deep frown.
He smiled. 'Hyram is a bastard,' he added. 'Did you know he summoned me here about Queen Aliphera, and then when I dutifully came, he tortured me? I wasn't going to make anything of it when it looked like he was going die very slowly and miserably. Didn't seem much more I could do than nature had already done. Now, though ...' He shook his head and sighed. 'What difference can I make? Hyram will oppose your challenge and so will his family. So will Zafir, and so will Narghon and Silvallan. So should I. A speaker from the south is overdue, and I've no reason to dislike Queen Zafir. As I said, the trouble is that I'm not important enough.'
Queen Shezira stopped her pacing and looked at him directly. They were alone on the battlements by her insistence. No one, she said, was to hear what they had to say to each other. Even the rooms below the roof had been cleared, and the stairs were guarded by her most trusted rider. And one of his as well, so they could keep an eye on each other.
'You're important enough. I already have King Valgar and one other that I can count on. Valmeyan won't be here and so won't have a say. Neither do the Syuss. I only have one question for you. What do you want?'
Jehal's smile widened. 'I told you, sweet Queen. The trouble is, I'm not important enough.' He met her gaze. If she was too stupid to understand what he meant, she didn't deserve his help.
She wasn't stupid. Slowly, she nodded. 'The Speaker's Ring. You want to succeed me when my years are up.'
'That would be a most enticing prospect.'
'And the most obvious demand. Yes.'
'And will you make Lystra your heir? To take your crown when you take Hyram's ring. So she need not worry so much about my rabble of half-cousins sniffing after my father's throne?'
She pursed her lips. 'Perhaps. If you'll give me your word to pass the Speaker's Ring on to Lystra when your time is done, and let Almiri become Queen of Sand and Stone in her place.'
Jehal nodded, then made a show of looking concerned. 'Wait. Begging your pardon, Your Holiness, but isn't all this the same assurance that Hyram gave to you. His word?'
'Are you calling me a liar, Jehal?'
He folded his arms. 'Let's just say I'm still a little irked that you dismissed me from Hyram's table two nights ago. One might have the impression that you think Hyram is right, and that I am poisoning King Tyan. Perhaps I've been poisoning Hyram as well, who knows? But if you did think such a thing, I would have to wonder as to the worth of your promises. Your word given to a prince may bind you, but your word given to a poisoner? I don't think that means very much to you.'
'If I had thought there was any truth to Hyram's suspicions, I would never have given you my daughter, Jehal.'
A warm feeling spread out from somewhere deep inside him. Jehal smiled again. 'Thank you, Your Holiness. I cannot describe how grateful I am to know that. You will declare me your successor when you make your challenge? In front of everyone?'
'Yes.'
Jehal bowed. 'Then King Tyan's vote will be yours, Your Holiness.'
'Good. Our business is done. Return with me to the feast, if you will.'
'Leave me here a while, Your Holiness. My mind is filled with ways to turn Silvallan and Narghon against Hyram and Zafir. Your victory would surely be even more pleasant if the two of them stood alone. I will rejoin you shortly, Your Holiness.'
Shezira hesitated, then nodded. Jehal watched her go, sinking slowly down the stairs into the guts of the tower. As soon as he was alone, his eyes shifted. He looked across the Tower of Dusk into the palace beyond, to the tall and slender Tower of Air, which looked down on everything. He was smiling.
'Speaker. At last. So sorry, Zafir. Nothing personal.'
Then he turned to look out to the mountains, leaning out over the stones, wondering what it would feel like to know that everything he could see was his.
He didn't look down. If he had, he might have seen a tiny pair of glittering ruby eyes.
48
The Eyrie of the Alchemists
Princess Jaslyn was the first to see the smoke. It hung, a slight haze staining the air, a mile or two ahead of them. When she waved at him and pointed, Semian saw it too. As they got closer, he made out the remains of the wagons on the ground, and the gleam, here and there, of shattered swords and armour.
The three dragons split smoothly. Semian and Jostan dived low, one to the left and one to the right. Silence and Princess Jaslyn powered up. While she circled overhead, the two knights swooped over the battle site from opposite angles. They made a second pass and then climbed back to Princess Jaslyn.
'Wagons and soldiers. All dead,' shouted Rider Semian at the top of his voice. 'Dragon attack.' He had no way of knowing whether Princess Jaslyn had heard him. There was a crude sign language that all dragon-riders learned, but it didn't cover things like this. The best he could do was: Friends. Dead. Dragon spoor.
He heard Jaslyn shout something back, but all her words were stolen by the wind. She signed: How long?
One hour. Two hours. 'Recent. Not long ago.'
Danger?
No. 'Whoever did this, they've gone.' Or at least he hoped so. There wasn't any sign of anything alive and moving on the ground, and whoever had burned these men could be miles away by now.
She told him to land and followed him down while Jostan circled overhead. They dismounted and picked their way through the wreckage. Parts of the wagons were recognisable -- scorched axles and wheels. Most of the rest was charcoal and ashes, some of it still too hot to touch. There were a lot of bodies. No. Bits of bodies. Soldiers.
'These were the speaker's soldiers,' said Princess Jaslyn. With a start Semian realised she was right. Adamantine Guardsmen. Most had been eaten, and all that was left were hands and arms and legs and pieces of crushed armour chewed and spat out. The few bodies still in one piece had been burned and crushed. There was one impaled to the ground by one of the Guards' own scorpion bolts.
'They're all dead, Princess,' he said, and she nodded. 'Do we search for who did this? They cannot have long gone. They may be resting their dragons or letting them hunt.'
'Or they may be gone.' Jaslyn shook her head. 'We go on as we were. We'll tell the alchemists when we reach them. Once my mother is speaker, she'll put an end to these outrages.' She walked back to Silence and climbed onto his back. 'We fly at three levels now.'