Page 162 of Dragon Rule (Age of Fire 5)

They dropped their brooms and fled at the sight of the new arrivals.

DharSii was the first to amble out of the entrance with its ancient writing. He startled when he recognized them.

“We seek refuge,” AuRon said.

“And fish. And warms,” Miki said in his bad Drakine.

DharSii cleared his throat. “Ha-hem. Welcome, Wistala. It’s good to see you again. Greetings, AuRon. Tyr RuGaard, you fly with a small escort. Has there been trouble?”

Scabia the White shuffled out, dragging her tail, but the aged dragon still had bright and alert eyes. “We’ve met before, Wistala of the line of AuNor.”

“Yes, briefly.”

“A young dragon seeking help in her battles in the wide world,” Scabia sniffed.

DharSii looked uncomfortable.

“So, how did your contest in the world of hominids turn out? A smashing success, no doubt?”

“I am no judge of my own success.”

“Now you’ve returned.” As you see.

“I can’t imagine what your party seeks that is in my power to grant.”

“We seek refuge with you from a hostile world. We are all exiles from the Grand Alliance.”

“DharSii, is this the confounded arrangement you were speaking of?”

“Yes, Scabia. The Lavadome dragons and the Hypatians are now allies.”

“It’ll end badly. Such arrangements always do. Well, I expect you’re hungry. I can see the ribs on that poor scaleless dragon with the regrown tail.”

“We’d be grateful for your hospitality,” Wistala said.

“You never struck me as the grateful type. But perhaps your experiences have taught you better manners than to go running off from your hosts in the dead of night. Well, it’s a cold day, and I don’t care for the Upper World.”

She led them all down into the great hall Wistala remembered, with its many lofts projecting from the side and pools of rainwater on the floor. It still smelled musty, like secrets hardly worth keeping.

As the others ate, Scabia settled down beside Wistala.

“It’s good to have another dragonelle around,” the aged white said.

“We may stay some time, if you’ll let us. We all could use a rest.”

“The Sadda-Vale can support many more dragons than it does. It has in the past, in any case. You can win a place for yourself and your companions permanently, as uzhin.”

“You still need eggs for your daughter?” Wistala asked. Scabia’s charity always came with a price, and she’d asked, years ago, that Wistala mate with NaStirath so that her barren daughter Aethleethia would have hatchlings to care for.

“Yes. I’d still like you to produce them. The superiority of your characteristics, your size and strength, suggest that you would lay fit, healthy hatchlings. Why, you might have eight or more eggs in a single clutch. You could be the foundation of a new age in the Sadda-Vale.”

Scabia’s eyes gleamed. Was she looking forward to a new age, or back at past glories?

“The price is mating with NaStirath.”

“He’s not so bad, Wistala.”

“But—mate with him?”

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