The Realms of the Gods (22 page)

For a long, still moment, there was no sound in the arena.

Daine was taking a deep breath when all of the dragons spoke at once, mind voices blending into a wordless roar in her mind.

She heard one voice clearly: Jewelclaw's.
—The humans are mine!—
He trotted down the ramp. Moonwind raised a forepaw and unfurled her immense wings. Numair faced her, the air rippling and bending visibly where it touched him.

Daine jumped, taking goshawk shape as her feet left the ground. Her clothes dropped, empty. With a screech, she sped toward Jewelclaw.

—Enough,—
said the crackling mind voice that had spoken to Daine and Numair near the bridge. Jewelclaw froze in his tracks.

—When did my
personal
invitation to guests of my clan become a matter for every wing and claw in the Dragonlands to discuss, and interfere with?—
What Daine had thought was a huge pile of blue stones uncoiled, and walked leisurely to the amphitheater floor. Diamondflame—Grandsire—was a dragon over eighty feet in length from nostrils to rump. While she could see larger dragons, none had a presence that made the air hum as he approached Moonwind and Numair.

Daine kept a wary eye on Jewelclaw as she drifted overhead. Diamondflame's scales were a shiny blue so dark as to be nearly black, picked out with flecks of gold and violet. A golden crest rose from his broad forehead and swept down to his shoulders, lending him a stern, crowned aspect. His large, indigo eyes glittered with intelligence.

—I understand your grief for your grandson, Moonwind, but
only to a point. With no law passed by the Dragonmeet, I am entirely within my rights to welcome my grandchild's guardians to my home. It should not matter if they are human, dragons, or dragonflies. They are my guests, and no business of the Dragonmeet!—

—Ancestor Rainbow, I demand a ruling,—
hissed the pearl-scaled dragon.
—Humans in the Dragonlands are no matter of personal choice, as Diamondflame has said, but of the will of the Dragonmeet. I vote to dump them into the Sea of Sand and let them cook.—

—Will the Dragonmeet now tell each dragon what guest to have, what to read, when to have children?—
Diamondflame wanted to know.
—I am within my rights, the ones granted to me and to every dragon by the Golden Dragonmeet, to accept the visit of the guardians of my grandchild, without certain
meddlers
getting involved.—

—Now he calls ‘meddlers' those who wish only to see drag-onkind return to power in all the realms!—
cried Jewelclaw.
—Have you old and conservative ones turned to wyverns and salamanders?—

—Humans or no humans, I must say that I have not heard such insolence from the young in the last thousand years as I have heard today,—
said the one called Rainbow. Slowly he lowered himself from his grassy seat and walked over to Diamondflame.
—I will judge now.—
He sat on his haunches and rose up, many-colored scales tightening over his knobby, fragile-looking skeleton. Slowly, as gracefully as a dancer, he stretched out enormous, nearly transparent, bat wings. The sun glinted off the silvery bones within them, and painted glowing light over the old dragon.

—I ordain as Rainbow Windheart, Governor of the Dragonmeet, oldest of the Firefolk, with a hundred centuries under my wings. By the Compact of the Godwars and the vote of the Golden Dragonmeet, I speak for all of us, until the day comes that I am taken back to Mother Flame.—

Settling a bit, he turned those blind eyes on the blue-green
dragon.
—Out of my sight, Jewelclaw. If I see you before a century has passed, I shall not be so kind again as I am right now.—
Heat passed under Daine's tail feathers on its way from Rainbow to the younger dragon. Jewelclaw dodged the bolt with a snarl and jumped into flight, lunging at the girl-goshawk.

Something—not Jewelclaw—clutched her tightly. She felt
squeezed,
as if she had turned to icing in a pastry cook's tube. A strangled cry burst from her lips; she could feel herself dropping as her eyes went dark.

When she opened them again, she lay on the ground, fully dressed, staring at the sky.

—The only way dragons can live together is to vow to keep their muzzles out of one another's private lives.—
The mind voice was Rainbow's; he sounded close by.
—When we wrote our laws at the Golden Dragonmeet, we made sure of that. When I spoke in my office as governor, they could not argue, under the laws of that same meet.—

Two ink-blot heads stretched into her vision, one over her left eye, one over her right. Leaf squeaked, “Awake now!”

The next faces Daine saw were those of Grizzle and Scamp. Over their heads, within a heartbeat's time, she saw Numair, his dark eyes worried. Behind him, the great blue dragon peered down at her.

“What happened?” she asked, blinking.

Scamp moved out of the way. Into the space she had filled in Daine's vision came the muzzle and blind eyes of Rainbow. His mind voice sounding like wind-tossed leaves, he said,
—Forgive my lack of precision in grabbing you out of harm's way, Godborn. I allowed Jewelclaw to upset me. What you felt was dragon magic, nothing more.—

“I'm glad it
was
nothing more.” Daine felt oddly peaceful. “Think how upsetting it might be to get squeezed from a shape—like milk from a teat—by something big.”

“Is she all right?” Numair asked the blue dragon, worried. “Not—damaged?”

—She seems well enough now,—
was Diamondflame's reply.

“You don't know her as I do. She's
never
this philosophical about surprises.”

Reaching out, the blind dragon pulled Daine into a sitting position, his grip gentle. “My bones are all wobbly,” she confided to him in a whisper. Looking around, she saw that many of the adult dragons had left. “Where'd everybody go?”

—Where they would have been if Moonwind and her Separatists had not chosen to meddle in business that was not theirs,—
said Diamondflame.
—They have gone home. Ancestor Rainbow ruled that your visit, concerned as it was with returning to my grandchild, was a matter for my clan alone.—

The blue dragon reared, towering over the girl. Numair and Rainbow steadied her as she got to her knees, then her feet.

—Who will help me convey these mortals out of the Dragonlands?—
asked Diamondflame.

The young dragons, who had remained, clamored to go. When he looked down his muzzle at them, they silenced instantly.
—Those of you who can fly are too small. The rest of you cannot fly at all—and fly we must. You will remain here, and mind Ancestor Rainbow.—

Daine's mouth twitched as Scamp grumbled,
—We
never
do anything interesting.—

—I will come with you.—
One of the few adults remaining, a gray-and-gold dragon fifty-six feet in length, came over to them. She was an elegant creature, slender without looking at all fragile.
—I am Wingstar. Your Skysong is my grandchild. The least I can do is bring her humans back to her.—

—Climb onto us,—
ordered Diamondflame.
—I believe the Dragonmeet is done.—

He was right. One by one, the dragons were vanishing from the arena tiers. Only the youngsters and Rainbow stayed.

Leaf went to Daine, Jelly to Numair. Once the humans had settled the darkings into their favored riding spots—around Daine's neck and inside Numair's shirt—Wingstar sank low to the ground.
—I will take you, Weiryn's daughter. You do not appear to have so many bony angles to you.—

Daine grinned at Numair and climbed onto the female dragon, settling in front of her wings. Numair had to ascend Diamondflame's foreleg to perch on the blue dragon's back.

—Hold on to my crest,—
ordered Wingstar.
—It won't hurt me if you tug.—

Under her legs Daine felt powerful muscles flex. “Wait!” she cried, remembering something. The dragons, Numair, and the darkings stared at her. “When we came through last time, we—more me, but both of us for a while—got fair sick. We need to tell you—”

—Nothing,—
interrupted Diamondflame.
—You were brought here by lesser gods, not by dragons. You will not become ill in the least.—

Disliking the slur on her parents, Daine muttered, “Pardon
me.”
Leaf giggled under her ear as the flap of immense wings blew her hair into her eyes. She closed them tightly as the dragons leaped up and forward, soaring into the air.

Wind buffeted her. Opening her eyes, she saw that Diamondflame was in the lead, taking them into a cloud bank. Daine shivered; it was cool and clammy, and she couldn't see. Feeling a tickle on her cheek that had to be Leaf's hat, she asked, “Still funfun?”

“More fun,” the darking replied.

“You have a happy nature, little one,” she grumbled.

Up the dragons climbed, flying a corkscrew pattern through the clouds. Daine sensed Stormwings only a few
moments before they came upon them, but as before, she recognized at least one, and very likely three, presences among them.

When the dragons emerged in clear, very cold, air, Barzha, Hebakh, Rikash, and their followers awaited them. All of the immortals were armed.

—You have interesting friends,—
remarked Wingstar.

“If you don't mind, we will go with you to the mortal realms.” Barzha's voice sounded odd in the thin air. “We have business to settle.”

—I will not wait if you fall behind,—
Diamondflame warned them.

The Stormwings grinned, steely teeth glinting, as they took up positions to the rear and sides of the dragons. Rikash was the only one to glide between them.

“Is this wise?” Daine asked. “Ozorne's folk outnumber you almost four to one.”

“Since when are Stormwings wise?” he called, and laughed.

Diamondflame and Wingstar began their descent, gliding in a broad spiral that carried them into the clouds once more. Clammy, damp fingers brushed the girl's face and wound in her hair. Gray fog blinded her again. “More fun, more fun,” commented Leaf.

They broke through the clouds.

She had expected to see Dragonlands or desert. What lay below was a tangled web of barns and gardens, and a sprawling complex of gray stone buildings tucked behind high walls in front and low ones behind. From the high walls, the land sloped down a green, uncluttered expanse before reaching tree groves around low-lying temples. On the far side of the groves lay a vast city flung on both sides of a broad river.

They were over the capital, and royal palace, of Tortall.

Daine frowned. The voices of the People filled her mind, but they were not tense or wary, as they had been
when Port Caynn and the surrounding areas were under attack. Shaping her eyes to those of a raptor, she examined palace and city. Soldiers were everywhere, afoot, on horseback, or patrolling the river, but she saw no fighting, and a great deal of rebuilding. People were hard at work all over the palace grounds, too, piling debris for wagons to carry away. There were patrols on the walls and within the palace grounds, but nowhere did she find evidence of the enemy, except for two large prison stockades that lay east of the palace.

The dragons circled high above the palace; their Stormwing escort did the same. “Why come
here?”
Numair shouted to Diamondflame. “Skysong is at Port Legann!”

—Why
are
we here?—
asked Wingstar, mind voice dry.
—You guided us, Diamondflame, and I too thought you would take us to our grandchild. I don't even see an army in this place.—

—The god of the duckmoles is here,—
said Diamondflame.
—I want to know why.—

Wingstar stared at the blue dragon.
—Broad Foot? In this city?—

—On the other side of the world from his mortal children,—
Diamondflame replied grimly as Numair and Daine exchanged looks.
—Involving himself in mortal affairs.—

“How do you know all this?” the mage asked loudly.

—I am a dragon,—
was the haughty reply.
—My power tells me a great many things that you are blind and deaf to.—

Silver glittered in front of them, condensing very slowly as Broad Foot appeared. Daine reached for him before she remembered where they were. The duckmole was thin, his eyes sunken. “What's happened to you?” she cried. “You look terrible!”

He clapped his bill gently in a duckmole laugh.
—I overestimated my ability to contain Malady. It will not break free of me, but . . . It fights.—
His mind voice—the only way
the animal gods could speak in the mortal realms—sounded weak.

—This is incredible!—
boomed Diamondflame.
—What possible interest have you in the affairs of humans?—

The duckmole snorted.
—Have you dragons shut yourselves off so completely from affairs in the mortal and divine realms? Can you not
feel
the battle that is raging? Read the Chaos currents around you!—

—Humans and their wars,—
snapped Wingstar, but Daine heard doubt in her voice.

—If she overturns the mortal and divine realms, how long, do you think, it will be until she turns on the Dragonlands?—
Broad Foot wanted to know.
—You have made them separate from the Divine Realms, but you share a common border with them, and Uusoae is nothing but appetite. Even when fed to gorging, she hungers still.—