Dragon Blood

"Hold on," I told Tisala as I sat down beside her. "This is a wild ride."

When we stopped in a cavern where odd formations of rock crystal wept from the roof to the walls and down to drape wearily over dark stone on the shore, Kellen sat forward with an exclamation of surprise at the oddity of the grotto.

Under the cover of the ensuing conversation, Tisala touched her hand to the top of my head and said quietly, "Don't take offense at his questions. It is only that he has been betrayed so many times. It makes him question everyone."

I raised an eyebrow and said, "Did you hear it all?"

To my surprise, color bled rapidly over her cheeks as if she were an untried maid. I shifted so I could see her better, putting my back toward Oreg as I tried to remember what we'd said that would cause her to blush.

When I remembered, I almost let it go, but something told me that it might be time to push my suit a bit—maybe because she didn't deny Kellen's claim that she was interested in me.

As she stared out blindly at the crystal-laced cavern, I said, "He had one part of it right enough. I wouldn't mind tying my house with your father's."

Expressions crossed her face rapidly before she covered them with a polite mask. When she spoke, it was with the inflection of someone repeating a rote learned speech. "I'm flattered, Ward. But you need to look for someone younger—a Shavig maiden who will run your keep—"

"Bah," I interrupted with a rude disgust I certainly didn't feel. That she had worried enough to memorize such a speech surely was a good thing. If Tisala had wanted to dismiss unwanted flirting, she would have done a much better job of it. "Do you have quarrel with the way my home runs? I certainly don't feel any pressing need to find a wife who will run it any better. The food is eatable, and the keep is tolerably clean. I don't need a delicate flower. My father married one of those and when her children needed her to protect them, she turned to her dreamweed and sleepsease to hide from her duty."

Suddenly, unexpectedly, I had a vision of the first time my father had drawn my blood. I didn't remember what had caused him to hit me so hard. I just remembered staring at the blood on my hand and realizing that it had come from my ear. My mother looked at my hand, too, and ran out of the hall—away from me. That vision was the reason I forgot my vow to be patient and spoke with sudden passion. "I don't need a pretty maid, Tisala. I need a mate who can protect her children with her sword and with her wit. One who will not let her daughter live in terror because she didn't have the ability to cry out if attacked, or allow anyone to cut her son down until he thought the only way out was to slit his wrists, thereby missing his chance to fight for Siphern in the Afterworld. And when the bastard she married struck his son with the flat of his sword, I need a wife who would rend him limb from limb before he could do it again."

I returned from the intensity of my feelings with the same sensation I remember from falling unexpectedly out of a tree: out of breath, startled, and horribly aware that the murmur of other conversation had ceased and everyone was looking at me. I hastily sat down and looked at the dark water that lapped gently at the edge of the raft. "How old were you?" Tisala asked her voice guttural.

"Eight," said Oreg when I didn't answer. "At least I think that was the first time. It got much worse later." His quiet voice was loud to my hot ears.

"I didn't know it was so bad," said my uncle beside me.

"Sorry," I said in utter embarrassment. Then I realized I wasn't the only one I'd left exposed. "I'm sorry, Tosten." He didn't like talking about his attempted suicide so many years ago.

"If she lets you go," he replied obliquely, "she's a fool." I felt Tisala's fingers touch my shoulder in a quick caress and she leaned closer to whisper, "Maybe you do need me as much as I need you."

I took her callused, damaged hand in my free one, and my eyes met Kellen's considering gaze as Axiel gave me respite by begi

The docks in the underground cavern at Callis lit at our arrival, but there was no one to greet us.

"Perhaps Alizon was unable to communicate how we were traveling," murmured my uncle as he helped Axiel tie the boat off.

"My father would have guessed," said Tisala worriedly, stepping out of the craft and onto the ancient stone dock. "Even if he didn't intend to support you, sire, he would have left an honor guard to greet you here."

Oreg stood flat-footed in the raft and I reached out to steady him as a wave bumped him off balance. He didn't turn his attention to me, just stared into space.

"Do you feel it?" he asked me.

Of course, once he said something, I did. It was just the remnant, like smoke after a fire, but the scent of a Great Magic was in the air.

"Is it the Bane?" I asked, though I sensed the same flavor of magic I'd tasted in Jakoven's Asylum. Apprehensive certainty suddenly sponsored a hundred terrible things that could have caused Haverness to need his men at his side.

Oreg nodded. "But what has he done with it?

"My lord?" said Kellen to me.

"Jakoven's used the Bane," I said.

"I remember the flavor lingered centuries where Farson loosed it. Some places I can still feel it," said Oreg dreamily as I helped him onto the dock. "There's no telling how long ago the Bane's magic was used."

"Oreg," I said sharply, and he refocused on my face.

"Oreg left just before the dragon appeared," said Garranon suddenly. "I wondered where he was going. Is Oreg your dragon, Ward?"

I looked around and realized that he was the only one who didn't know what Oreg was. Too many people were finding out, but there was nothing I could do about that now.

"A dragon and my friend, my brother," I said. "But never my dragon."

Garranon laughed abruptly. "No wonder you escaped from me so easily when I tried to hold you at Hurog after your father died."

"Actually, that took Oreg and Axiel." I explained at the same time that Oreg said, "He did that on his own."

Tisala's anxious focus on the open metal doors that led from our landing to stone steps rising to Callis proper recalled me to more important things.

"Best we set the past where it belongs and find out what caused Haverness so much distress that he would forget to welcome visiting royalty," I said, but on the tail of my words, Haverness and a panting guardsman came through the entranceway.

"Lord Kellen," he said smoothly. "Welcome to Callis. You must be Rosem, welcome sir. And you as well, Lord Duraugh. Garranon, it is good to see you again, my friend. And you, Lord Wardwick, Lord Tosten, and Oreg." I was impressed that he'd remembered Oreg's name after four years. "I'm sorry to be late, gentlemen—but you arrived on the heels of some other guests and it took me a moment to break away when my guard told me you were coming."

He turned to his daughter. "Alizon tells me that you and the young Hurogmeten have decided to escalate our careful plans."

She took his hands and held them tightly for a minute. "Father, it's good to see you." She stepped back and said formally, "Matters have escalated it for us, sir. As Alizon doubtless also told you."

"Indeed," he said, glancing at Kellen thoughtfully. "But now come and allow me to extend my hospitality. Time enough this evening for politics."

I noted as we climbed that the passage here at Callis was rougher than the one leading to the Dwarven Way at Hurog. Did that make Hurog's older?

Callis was larger and more luxurious than Hurog. Kellen and Rosem were given a large suite near the family apartments, of course. But I was given a room to myself—though it was small and spare. I realized with wry humor that I hadn't had a private place since I'd left the King's Asylum. The room came complete with a cold lunch set on a low table—the only furniture in the room aside from the bed.