Page 187 of Dragon Strike (Age of Fire 4)

“Dragonkind is depending on you, Wistala,” Nilrasha continued. “We can no longer stay underground, at least as dragons rather than some kind of slaves. I fear we’d turn into little more than a lava-lit stockyard for raising young dragons to be brought to the surface. To survive, we have to return to the surface. We’ve been so long underground, in hiding, we know very little of the Upper World. We need friends up there who can guide us to safety. Friends we can trust.”

“I must ask you the same question. Can the Upper World trust dragonkind? If I am to go to Hypatia, do I know that you’re offering an alliance of equals? Hypatia demands that even kings obey laws. I want to be able to promise aid, not obedience.”

Nilrasha extended and settled her griff. Perhaps the Queen was not used to being questioned so closely.

“What kind of forces may I promise?” Wistala asked.

“So you will do it?”

“I am a Firemaid and will obey. Not that it matters, but I think it’s a wise path the Tyr chooses. Dragons will thrive only if they learn flexibility in their relations with the hominids. It can’t all be wars, thrall-taking, and ‘Upholds.’ ”

“The Firemaids will be with you. Perhaps a score of dragonelles and threescore drakka.”

“But the drakka cannot fly, and it is a long way to Hypatia.”

“You haven’t been long a Firemaid. Thanks to our experience with the new Aerial Host, we’ve learned the best way to fix some light straps punched through your fringe. The drakka grip the straps. It’s not altogether different from hatchlings riding atop their mother’s back. As long as they stay flat, flight is still possible. It’s actually easier to carry two rather than one, for better balance.”

Wistala thought of her desperate trip carrying dwarven wounded and messages from the doomed column, lost in the barbarian north so long ago.

“I’m no warrior.”

“We will send Ayafeeia with you. She’s our best. Do not worry. She is sensible. I spoke to her over my first meal. She will act as your maidmother when she sees fit, but will leave the Hypatians to you.”

“Suppose I fail?”

“We will come to the surface in any case. Otherwise we will sicken and die.”

Wistala had heard about the kern. But something else crossed her mind. She found herself liking the Queen.

“You love my brother.”

“Yes. He’s different.”

Wistala watched her breathe. “True.” She wondered if she should talk about the murder of her parents, expand upon a few details left out of the conversation at the assembly. No, no reason. Her brother had changed, it seemed.

She had too. She no longer wanted to claw his eyes out.

“May I ask one more question, my Queen?”

“Oh, you may ask. But there are questions I choose not to answer, sometimes.”

“Why did you bring this to me? Does my brother fear my reaction?”

“Fear? No. But I frequently sound dragons as to his ideas. That way you can later be asked and assigned in court with proper pomp and ceremony.”

“Perhaps matters of state in the Lavadome are more complex than they appear,” Wistala said.

“You’ll do well to support the Tyr, Wistala, and do your best for us. Like it or not, ever since that scene in the assembly, you’re thought of as being in the Imperial Line, and a relative of RuGaard’s. If the Tyr falls, you will too. Speaking of which, rank has its privileges. Take a roasting hog back to your sisters when you leave.”

Wistala uttered a few more pleasantries and found Takea, who was wearing a fluffy rabbit’s foot hooked in her griff. Together they managed to drag a whole hog back to their hill.

Wistala asked Takea what she’d occupied herself with during the audience, and the drakka described a visit to the Aerial Host to hear stories.

“And the rabbit’s foot?”

“From a thrall boy, Zathan, the son of one of the Free Thralls in the Aerial Host. You know they raise many rare rabbits in the host caves? Not just for meat. They grow long hair that the riders stitch into their jerkins to keep them warm aloft. I promised to let him ride me one day, and he took a loose scale and I took his rabbit’s foot. We’ll keep the tokens until my wings come.”

Wistala left the Lavadome with more than a score of dragonelles and twice that in Firemaids. The Tyr, at a ceremony full of all the pomp and pageantry Nilrasha had promised, insisted that they take a few bats along as he wished them good fortune on the surface.

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