Page 191 of Dragon Strike (Age of Fire 4)

“Perhaps in twomonth,” Ansab said. “There’s a meeting of the Directory. You can get on the agenda for that, though I warn you, a quarter-Directory’s decision can only be ratified by a meeting of the full Directory, and you can’t imagine how busy those are.”

“Are you at war or aren’t you? I come to offer help,” said Wistala.

“Oh, dear! Another warmonger,” Paffle groaned, scabbing at the sides of his head as though to protect his ears from an unpleasant noise. “The Directory is divided already.”

“It’s all a matter of commerce. Once the question of use of the Falnges is settled, matters will calm down,” Ansab said.

“But suppose they aren’t settled?”

“Doom, doom, doom,” the librarian put in. “It’s been foretold every generation. Those dragon-riders, for example. Supposed to burn the city to the foundation. Every refugee coming in had a worse story. But they never came. I always said there was never anything to those stories, but people would rather alarm themselves. It settled itself down and the doomsayers found a new object of anxiety.”

“May I speak to the Directory or not?” Wistala asked, eyeing the cording stitched about Ansab’s robe. He had silver and gold rope-work decorating his cloak.

“Oh, of course you may speak,” Ansab said. “As a Hypatian citizen and a librarian you have every right to speak to the Directory. I’ll have you on the agenda in no more than sixmonth.”

“I thought you said two?”

“That’s for an uncredentialed ambassador. Sixmonth is as a Hypatian librarian. If she still is a librarian,” he added, eyeing the head librarian. “I don’t know what librarian policies are for dividing allegiance. We optimates ensure that affairs of Directory are run smoothly and fairly, and such matters fall outside our province.”

“Good. I need an expert to explain all this to my Tyr,” Wistala said. She reached out and picked Ansab up by his robes. “I’m taking you because you show some fat on you,” she said out of the side of her mouth. “I’m afraid that thin one will perish in the cold at the higher altitudes.”

“Wha—Put me down!” Ansab squawked. “Help! Paffle!”

Wistala thought he smelled like a wet chicken.

“Oh, dear,” Paffle said. “If you’re going to carry someone off, couldn’t you just grab an arbiter? They’re more accustomed to travel.”

“Paffle!”

Wistala gave her wings an experimental beat and Ansab screamed. “Don’t worry. It’s just four or five hard days to the Lavadome. You won’t lose too many toes.”

“L-Lavadome?” Ansab asked.

“Yes.”

“I thought that was a myth,” the head librarian said.

“No, it’s where the Tyr lives,” Wistala said. “He always has room on his agenda. I just hope he’s in a good mood when I have to explain why threescore dragons wasted their time coming to save your miserable hide.”

“Are there really demen with whips?” Paffle asked, looking livelier than he had the whole conversation. “Hold your temper, Ansab, old fellow. A full court bow would be best. You’ll be the laughing-stock of the baths if you’re all striped from the lash.”

“Shut up, you old fool,” Ansab shouted. “We’ll put you on this afternoon’s agenda. Just put me down!”

“Thank you,” Wistala said. “I doubt that fine robe would have held you the whole way.”

Ansab plucked at a bit of torn cording. “It’s ruined as is.”

“Oh, that was wonderful,” Paffle said. “I’ll buy you a new robe, and count the price cheap in return for the entertainment.”

“Your librarians should have better manners,” Ansab said, glowering at the head librarian.

“She is a dragon, optimate. She’s something of a librarian-at-large. It’s Thallia’s doing, anyway. They just use naming a dragon among their staff as a way to raise funds. Never fails to impress the patrons when they read out her account of the Wheel of Fire-Varvar war. I hope I do not give offense, Wistala.”

“I labored hard over that account,” Wistala said. “I’m glad it’s of some use.”

They brought Wistala up the high road, which ran through the city between the old gates and the Ziggurat. A sort of mobile crowd followed, being dribbled away from and added to as they passed up the elevated road.

It was a pleasant walk. The high road ran two or three humans high most of the way and was flanked by columns with statues of the great figures of Hypatia. Wistala saw bearded dwarves with modest visors partly shielding their faces, elves with victory garlands growing in their hair, and men. There was even a blighter carrying a hammer and chisel.

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