Page 122 of Kingdom of Dance

The elders all dipped their heads in Reka’s direction, and the yellow dragon lifted onto his hind legs, stretching his wings at the base.

Zinnia listened intently as Rekavidur explained that almost as soon as he’d arrived on Solstice, he’d formed the impression of foul play in the dragon colony. With the eyes of each dragon and human present fixed on him, he shared about his steadily growing conviction as to Idric’s clandestine activities in aid of the enchantments of various malicious human magic-users. He mentioned each of the incidents discussed by the royals in the dragons’ absence, as well as other occasions Zinnia knew nothing about.

Nerves washed over her when Reka appealed to her to give an account of her dealings with Idric, and she did so as rapidly as she could, stumbling over her words in the beam of so many yellow eyes. She heard Basil shift when she explained the true fate of the missing enchanter, and she could actually feel the tension pouring off both him and Obsidian as she described the extent of Idric’s experiments.

“Thank you, Princess of Entolia, for your testimony,” said Tanin formally, when she’d finished.

Inclining her head, she stepped gladly back into the clump of human witnesses. As nervous as she’d been, she found it was actually an enormous relief to have finally let out the secrets she’d been forced to keep for so long.

“Why did you not report your suspicions earlier?” one of the other elders challenged Reka.

He bowed his head. “Perhaps I should have. But I was unsure how such a serious accusation would be taken from an outsider against an elder. I wished for more evidence. Tanin witnessing Idric’s activities himself was a better opportunity than I ever expected.”

“You said you formed an impression of foul play almost as soon as you arrived in Solstice,” another dragon said. “And that you soon became convinced Idric was the culprit. Expand, please.”

Again Reka bowed his head. “I suspected Idric as soon as I learned that his heart magic is a power of concealment. Because the moment I arrived on Solstice, I sensed a suffocating blanket of concealment spread over the entire land.”

The dragons stirred, shifting positions and staring even more unblinkingly than usual at Reka.

“I have sensed no such force,” said the dragon who had asked Reka to expand.

“Respectfully, Elder, I ask…were you among the dragons who traveled here from a former home?”

The dragon shook his head slowly. “My parents were among that group. I was born soon after their arrival.”

Reka nodded. “So I understood. I gather that few of those who came here chose immortality, and most of them have long since passed on.” His eyes scanned the group. “Which means almost all of you have never known a home other than Solstice. You would not recognize anything amiss in the landscape here, if it is all you have experienced. But I, a dragon born of parents from two different colonies, familiar with both, felt it at once. The loss of my farsight has been a constant grief since I came here.”

The dragons looked merely bewildered now. “Farsight?” one of them asked. “What is this?”

“I remember,” said Tanin slowly. “Like Idric, I was young when we came here. But I remember farsight. A useful type of magic, allowing dragons to monitor places and creatures from afar, even to speak into their minds, as well as each other’s. It is a relic of the past, a feature of the land of our fathers.”

Reka shook his head. “With respect, Elder, it belongs neither to the past, nor to any particular land. It is, as any dragon in my colony could tell you, a birthright of all of our kind.”

“You will listen to this outsider over me?” Idric growled, the sound deep and echoing in his chest as he spoke for the first time since his initial complaint. “I am an elder of this colony.”

Again, Zinnia sensed the wavering confidence behind the challenge, and she allowed a grim smile to cross her face.

“We will listen,” said Tanin sternly, “to the truth.” He turned back to Reka. “What is your accusation?”

Reka straightened as much as the space allowed. “That since the moment the colony arrived on Solstice, Idric has been using his concealment magic—which I acknowledge to be among the most powerful natural abilities I have ever witnessed in a dragon—to hide every corner of the land from the sight of his kin. In short, to block the farsight of all dragons here. My speculation is that, in doing so, he has provided himself with the opportunity to carry out clandestine attacks and interferences on the humans for many years. If the colony had retained the benefit of farsight, his activities could not have gone undetected as they have.”

Idric’s growl had built to an alarming rumble now, and heat shimmered from his nostrils. “Outrageous accusations,” he snarled.

“Do you deny them?” Tanin asked.

Idric stared back at him, and Zinnia held her breath. Everyone knew dragons could all recognize deception, so even Idric couldn’t get away with lying to the convocation of elders. As her gaze passed over the dragon’s hatefully familiar form, she had the fleeting impression of a hare caught in a trap. When Idric had thought he could argue the elders around to his way of thinking, he clearly hadn’t anticipated Rekavidur being aware of the deception he had supposedly practiced upon them all. It was beyond satisfying to see one of his plans go so drastically awry.

“I acted in the interests of the colony,” Idric snapped. “Most of those who came here were weak. They were unwilling to see the truth—that the land was ours to claim, and the humans were a blight we need not tolerate.”

“You voted to wipe them out, didn’t you?” Tanin said coldly. “You were overruled almost unanimously. Do you mean to say that you retain your belief, even now, after centuries of peaceful cohabitation?”

“Peaceful?” repeated Idric scornfully. “There is no peace among humans! They fight and steal and lie. They murder each other for a scrap of gold, spawn more of their vile breed, then return senseless to the earth, leaving nothing of value behind.”

“It grieves me that there is no lie in your words,” said Tanin sadly. “You believe this twisted version of reality. You have forgotten that humans do not return to the earth in their entirety. Something of value remains.”

Zinnia studied the elder, intrigued. Was he speaking of the spark? If so, he didn’t elaborate.

“You have also not watched our neighbors with a fair eye,” Tanin continued instead. “It is true that there is deception, and hatred, and violence. But also love, and hope, and nobility.”

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