Page 215 of Dragon Strike (Age of Fire 4)

The Copper ordered food to be brought. Paskinix, sensibly, did not even make a pretense of refusing. Instead, he opened that strange swinging deman jaw and began to stuff himself.

“Not too much, or you’ll make yourself sick,” the Copper said, by way of starting.

“My last meal, I suppose, now that you’ve holed me at last,” Paskinix said. “May as well enjoy it.”

“I am ready to make peace if you are,” the Copper said.

“Peace? With what? My people are destroyed.”

“This old war is not my fault. It was going on when I came here.”

Paskinix swished out his mandibles and spat on the floor. “We have claim to the Lavadome too, dragon-king. It was here the sun-shard fell to earth, and it was here the first demen recovered it at the dawning of thought. Only the Eternals are older than ourselves.”

“All the more reason to share its control. I propose to give you a voice in the Lavadome, my old friend.”

“Our people have shown a curious brand of friendship.”

“We’ve forged a history. We’ve learned to respect each other. Out of that respect, cooperation can bloom. I have some lovely gardens here atop the rock, and the blueblooms are bigger than ever since I put them on that mix of bat-dropping and dried cow dung. I could show you the old pools one of my predecessors put in, a very fine set of caves, and I know you like things warm and moist and comfortable. Perhaps you could move your household there temporarily while we work out an understanding?”

“I am . . . suspicious.”

“Of course.”

“You hold every advantage. Were I to have conquered the Lavadome the way you had the Star Tunnel, I would not be inviting you to the most comfortable cavern off the Wisterfall.”

“You’ve played so many tricks yourself you expect them in others. I have spoken honestly to you. If I have been generous, it is because I wish your help as an ally.”

“Ally? All my warriors together would hardly be a match for a pair of your dragons.”

“Ah, but you count your experience in the Lower World cheap. I am engaged in a war on the surface.”

“Then I wish you fortune. The Red Queen burned out our sun-mines on the surface years ago.”

The Copper wondered what a sun-mine was but decided not to ask.

“Would you care to play one last trick? Strike one more blow against your surface enemy?”

“Perhaps.”

“If I wished to reach the lands of Ghioz in secret, could I do it with dragons? I have examined the maps of the Norflow. It seems to me it runs right under Ghioz lands.”

Paskinix shut his eyes in thought.

“It does. It does at that. But why not fly?”

“My dragons cannot get near her capital because of those roc patrols,” the Copper said. Paskinix clucked in confusion. “Great birds, bigger than our griffaran. They can outfly and outfight dragons in the air. She would have two days’ warning, at least. If I could cut that down to two hours—”

“Getting there is not the problem. Reaching the surface is. But if I had a dragon or two instead of just my warriors—”

“You might get your sun-mines back.”

“I could refuse.”

“Gigrix could just as easily lead your people. I’ve consulted him on the matter already, and he is drawing us a map.”

“Then why not just kill me?”

“You fought the Firemaids and the Aerial Host to a standstill for years, with numbers less than a quarter of what we believed you to have, if the talks with your general have led the Anklenes to the correct conclusion. I would be mad to kill such a resourceful warrior.”

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