Page 216 of Cast in Conflict

“It consumes her,” Emmerian said, his voice softer. “But it has defined her, as well. Karriamis was concerned about that. I believe he thinks her sense of failure is so profound she cannot look beyond it; if she were to succeed here, the lack of war would merely allow the sense of failure to envelop—and possibly destroy—her.”

Kaylin was surprised.

Maggaron, however, was not. His nod was grave; it made him seem older and more certain of himself than Kaylin had ever seen him. “That has long been my fear—but it is a distant fear. I am not certain the war will ever end.”

“Karriamis was also uncertain that the desire for vengeance would not cause harm.”

One Norranir brow rose. “Does Karriamis speak for you as well in this?”

“Possibly. I see her when she fights; there has never been any hesitation in her transformation. You did not see the wars of old—the wars between the Dragons and the Barrani—but had you, you would understand that very, very few could hold a candle to her. She forged herself into a weapon, and she is perfect.

“But she did not lose sight of you. She did not lose sight of the people she fought for, or the people she needed to protect. Until the end, until she herself was almost irretrievably lost, she tried to keep her people safe. I do not know how she ruled—but I believe she was not unlike the Emperor.” At Maggaron’s wince, Emmerian smiled. “I have never said that to her.”

“I think it unsafe. But she is not used to being ruled; she is used to ruling herself. And that control slips when she encounters the outcaste. He is the one thing that draws the two worlds—and the one war—together.”

Emmerian nodded.

“What do you want from Bellusdeo, Lord Emmerian?”

“I want... I want her to be happy.”

Maggaron’s smile was soft; it was also sad. He did not reply.

“She doesn’t see herself,” the Dragon continued. “She doesn’t see what I see. And no, this is not about the future of the race. At this particular moment, I do not give a damn about the future of the race.”

“She understands that responsibility,” Maggaron said after a long pause in which he seemed to be choosing his words more carefully.

“So do I—I am a Dragon.”

“And you do not care?”

“No. At this juncture, it is entirely secondary. I think her children would be a wonder—and an agony. But I am not certain that it is the right thing for her.”

To Kaylin’s surprise, Maggaron smiled. She wondered, then, if she had seen him truly smile before.

“I have always thought,” the Norranir said, “that she would be a good parent—but perhaps too protective. But it was never a possibility before. I will not be here forever,” he added, the smile dimming. “And she will not have another Ascendant; I am a relic—is that the right word?—of a lost world. But you—you will live forever. If you are cautious,” he added. “You will see what I will not.

“Do you intend to father her clutch?”

Emmerian’s jaw snapped shut.

“Not yet, I see,” the Norranir said, rising once again from his chair. “You are right. She does not see herself clearly; she sees and hears only the echoes of her failure.” These words were spoken much more smoothly; Kaylin suspected that Helen was helping him translate. “She wishes to expatiate on that failure; it is what she wants, right now, more than anything else.

“I do not consider her a failure. None of my people did. She never surrendered. She never gave up. She never quit. It was because of her that we did not quit, either. Even when the world was lost. What remains of my people are here, on the borders, ever watchful.”

“Waiting for her?”

“Perhaps. I have seldom returned to them. She has seldom returned. She understands that this world has an Emperor, not a queen. She does not despise him,” he added, voice softer. “But they are two heads and there is one crown. What do you want for yourself?”

“Her.”

“And the Emperor? You are sworn to serve him. You are a lord of the Dragon Court.”

“I believe I can do my duties to the Emperor regardless; it is what most of humanity does.”

Maggaron nodded. “See her, then. See her clearly. Hear what she cannot say, what she will not say. It was always, always best to allow her to come to you.” He turned toward the door; Emmerian did not attempt to stop him. But at the door, he turned again. “I wish you well, Lord Emmerian. Of the Dragons, I believe you understand her best.”

“Lannagaros understands her best.”

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