Page 97 of Dragon Rule (Age of Fire 5)

“Again, that depends on which rumor you believe. I was long gone from the Lavadome by the time it happened, but some say she went mad and threw herself into the Wind Tunnel after AgGriffopse’s death. Others say she was wined into a stupor and told to fly up it. Still others say her body was simply dumped into it after her death. Whatever the cause, she was found at the bottom with a broken neck.”

“The poor Tyr. First his son, then his daughter.”

“I think he was blind to the evil close to him. Though I hear Tighlia gave a good account of herself at the end. She was the only dragon who resisted the Dragonblade and his puppet Tyr, at the end.”

“So, what did you do?”

“I returned to the Sadda-Vale. I angered Scabia by refusing to recognize any name but DharSii, and found NaStirath mated to Aethleethia. They were kind enough to me, but I still felt like an exile among them. But they keened that they needed coin—it’s the one mineral the Sadda-Vale lacks. We resort to chipping ores out of the slate there, but they don’t care for the work or the taste. I’ve hired myself out for wars to bring them coin. But never enough, they gobble it down and then it’s back to slate chipping.”

“You were doing that when we met.”

“You think I’d forgotten? You were the first new face there in ages. I’ve roved the world. But somehow I always find myself returning there, even if the company is a little distasteful. It’s one of the few places that still belongs to dragons—not that the trolls don’t give us some bother about it, but then a dragon needs a challenge now and then. But I like the sense that it’s ours. Don’t we deserve a few patches of land, too?”

Ours, we—DharSii, don’t you know that those words catch me in the throat, too? He was an intelligent dragon, spoke carefully when he did speak. He must be using them intentionally.

“You make me want to fly away with you there, now.”

“But you have duties to attend to,” DharSii said. “Watch your tail in this place, Wistala. And your throat. And your flanks, when you can spare the time.”

“I’m the Queen-errant, don’t you know?”

“Have you ever heard of a thing called a lightning rod?”

“Umm…”

“It’s a dwarfish invention for places struck by storms. It’s simply a piece of iron placed high, with a wire to the ground. It attracts lightning bolts, rather than the more vulnerable usual rooftop or ship mast. You’ll be a lightning rod for discontent. Your dragons are celebrating now, but as soon as bad news comes, a plague strikes, or a battle falls the wrong way, they’ll blame you. They always do. A Tyr can engage in all manner of foolishness and still be loved, but his Queen—her slightest misstep is remarked upon and criticized. She’s always accused of secretly manipulating her mate.”

“RuGaard’s not my mate. He’s my brother.”

“I’m very glad of that,” DharSii said. “I’ve delayed too long already. Tongues will be tasting the air about you tonight and discussing this tomorrow, you can be sure.

“Now, I’ve recuperated enough to eat a meal without bringing it back up. The kitchens haven’t moved, have they?”

“Just follow your nose,” Wistala said.

“I was hoping you’d give me a tour, and take a bite with me.”

“I was hoping you’d ask,” she said.

Chapter 11

Wistala longed to see the sun again.

She was spending far too much time in Lavadome for her taste. It seemed the Queen, even a Queen-Consort, was expected to preside over every social gathering, on top of her largely ceremonial duties as head of the Firemaids.

Having to listen to the same news repeated over and over and over again, discussed much the same way with the same insipid observations and jokes—it was enough to make you gnaw at your flanks until your scale fell out. Now there was news of the blighters she’d briefly lived with coming into the Grand Alliance, and all the Lavadome wanted to know what sort of gemstones and precious metals could be found in their lands.

“Unless cattle horn is a precious metal and chicken beaks a gem, I don’t know that we’ll see much wealth from them,” Wistala said.

She’d kept her ears open for news about DharSii. He was consulting with the Ankelenes about the crystal statue that had once stood in NooMoahk’s cave until the Red Queen of the Ghioz stole it. The dragons of the Lavadome claimed it when they settled matters with the Red Queen in a desperate attack.

Strangely enough, it was when she paid a rare call on the Ankelenes’ “hill”—it wasn’t a natural feature of the Lavadome, but rather an artificial hill made of stone—that she happened upon the first evidence she found of Nilrasha’s purported conspiracy.

While climbing the stairs to the Ankelene Hill, she met Ibidio, AgGriffopse’s mate and widow. Ibidio was a fixture at Imperial Line events, a sort of Queen-in-her-own-mind who saw to it the traditions of the Lavadome were upheld.

“Ibidio, I’ve seen little of you for days. Have you been ill?”

“No. I don’t care to meet my husband’s murderer. I understand today he’s swimming in the river-ring.”

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