Page 217 of Dragon Outcast (Age of Fire 3)

“She panicked. She was flailing this way and that instead of letting me help her, and she scratched me.”

“It’s not like her to take such a big—”

“She’s been delirious these last few days. She thought she was brooding, stupid thing.”

“Get out of here!”

“But, Ru—I’m sorry about the lisping thing. You do it when you get excited. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Just go.”

AuBalagrave and the other dragons arrived, looking for enemies, a fight, anything—but they just found the Upholder, lying against his mate. Nilrasha slipped out.

“Leave me alone!” the Copper said. “I’m staying with her until she cools! All of you, get out. No, not you, Rhea. Clear away this mess.”

The dragons departed, and Rhea bent to pick up the spilled platter of spitted calf.

“Rhea. Please speak to me. For once in your life, don’t be afraid and speak. Did you see this? What happened here?”

The pale girl—no, woman; she had a swelling at her midsection and the feeding sacs had enlarged—looked at him with terrified eyes. Then she fainted.

He buried Halaflora on the mountainside with a good view of the palace, the vale, and their sleeping chamber. Then he went to see Nilrasha and found her idling in her bathing pool.

“If I find that you had a sii in this, I’ll kill you,” the Copper said.

“You’re upset, your honor. I know what you think. Put it out of your mind. She choked. It was a terrible accident.”

“You’re such a careful huntress.”

“Wouldn’t I have killed her long ago? I had opportunities every other day. I could have done it easily when we where hiding together, listening to those cursed dragons smashing the upper level. A quick pounce and—snap! She was so slight, you could practically poke a claw through her. What did the griffaran messenger want?”

The Copper couldn’t decide whether she was being callous or just her usual practical self. She was a born warrior who left the dead behind and kept her regrets, if any, private. But maybe her instincts were such that when she had an enemy, she’d pounce. Grabbing a loin and shoving it down a rival’s throat would be too roundabout a way of doing it. And if she wanted an accidental death, she would have just tossed Halaflora down that endless flight of steep steps as they took in the view, and then claimed she slipped.

“We have a new Tyr. SiMevolant. I’m to return to the Lavadome. I suspect his first edict will be that everyone paint themselves blue or add stripes.”

“Si-SiMevolant? What happened to SiDrakkon?”

“He’s dead. When I saw him last, he looked healthy enough.”

“Is SiMevolant smart enough to execute an assassination?”

Would a killer be so ready to use that word? the Copper thought. His mind was turning quick enough circles, and he tried to put Halaflora out of his mind. “He may have just been pretending to be a fool so no one would suspect him. How did the title of Tyr fall on those golden haunches, I wonder?”

“Who will you leave in command here?”

“According to the message, there’s to be no war. Which sounds like SiMevolant. He’s just stupid enough to believe that it takes two to make a war.”

“Challenge him if you get the chance,” Nilrasha said. “You can defeat him. He’s big and thick-scaled, but he doesn’t know the first thing about fighting.”

“I’ve never had much luck with duels. I always seem to come off the worse,” the Copper said.

“Still angry with me?” she asked.

“Only if you killed my mate.”

“Do you forget what you said? We can’t be mated while she lives. She no longer lives. After a decent mourning period we can have our happiness. She would have died over your eggs. I can give you many.”

The Copper snorted. “This is not the time for that kind of talk.”

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