stone that accounted for most of the lower levels of Outwatch.
'You should do something about this hall. Put some windows in.' The echoes of their footsteps made it seem even emptier, dreary and lonely. 'Maybe I should send my daughters to you for a while, eh?'
They reached the far side of the hall, where a maze of intertwined staircases snaked towards the upper levels.
'The study, Your Holiness?' asked Isentine.
'Yes.' The hall wasn't as empty as Shezira had first thought. Here and there she saw soldiers standing guard, still as statues and tucked into little niches where they wouldn't easily be seen.
By the time they reached the top of the stairs to Isentine's study, he was wheezing. What was it? A hundred and twenty steps to this balcony? She shook her head and watched him as he opened the door and then stood patiently waiting for her to enter. This wouldn't do.
She sighed, went in and sat down. 'You're getting positively ancient, Master Isentine.' She watched him as she said it, and saw how much it hurt him. Which was good. He knew what was coming, and that would make it easier for both of them.
'Three score years and then some.' He looked sad.
'And then some more. You've been the master here for as long as I can remember. Twenty-five years almost to the day I came here.' She smiled, thinking back to the first time she'd landed at Outwatch. 'Fifteen years old, betrothed to King Antros, and you were the first person I saw. I thought you looked so handsome.'
The eyrie-master's throat began to bob up and down as though he was trying to say something, but the words were stuck in his throat.
'I haven't forgotten,' Shezira added. 'I haven't forgotten that it was you, more than anyone, who stood at my side when Antros died so suddenly. If you'd turned against me, I would not be queen now. You always had my gratitude in the years after that. You have it still.'
'Then…' They both knew what he wanted to say. They both knew she couldn't consent.
'You may choose who will be the new master of Outwatch and my other eyries, Isentine. I will respect your judgement. But you cannot remain master of my dragons. Speaker Hyram's reign is almost done. I will succeed him. I can hide you away here, but when I rule the Adamantine Palace I cannot have a weak old man who can barely walk at my side. I am sorry.' She almost reached out and took his hand, because in more ways than one he was the oldest friend she had. But she was a queen, and so her hand stayed still and only the whiteness of her knuckles betrayed her.
Isentine swallowed. He took a deep breath and slowly bowed. 'I understand, Your Holiness. I will find you a man worthy to serve you as I no longer can, and I will take the Dragon's Fall.'
They sat together in silence for as long as Shezira could bear. Then she went and stood by the window. The study looked out directly over the cliffs, and the drop felt almost infinite.
'Or…'
Isentine didn't move. She could see he was holding his breath.
'My daughters are very fond of their dragons, and very fond of you. Almiri is my heir and has children of her own. Lystra is promised to Prince Jehal and still young enough to be pliable, but laslyn… She spends a great deal of time here, or so I understand.'
Isentine looked at her. He smiled and shook his head. 'You may choose whoever you wish, my queen, but Jaslyn is too young to he mistress of any eyrie. She knows her dragons well enough, better than most I might say, but she has no experience…'
Now at last he began to see.
'She would need a mentor.' Shezira kept her voice stern. 'You would have to live out your years here, surrounded by these beasts.
1 could not permit you to take the Dragon's Fall until you were quite sure she was worthy to succeed you.'
'Yes, Your Holiness. Thank you.'
Shezira looked away. Isentine was almost weeping with gratitude, and that was something she couldn't bear to see. 'You will not come with us to King Tyan's realm. You are too old. Instead you can stay here and think about everything you must do. It will not be an easy task for you with Jaslyn. She's wilful and proud. If I said she was plain, it would be flattery, yet she turns up her nose at every suitor I put before her. Before long you might wish you'd taken the Dragon's Fall after all.'
'I will make her a daughter to be proud of,' whispered the eyrie-master.
I already am, thought Shezira, but that too was something she could never admit. Instead, she began to pace the floor, steadfastly ignoring Isentine's gaze. 'Yes. Now, Prince Jehal. Two more days, Eyrie-Master.'
'All is prepared, Your Holiness.'
'Oh, I have no doubt of that, but still… Summon the alchemist. Haros? Huros? Whatever his name is. Let him bore me with the details of his preparations. And in case I fall asleep, please make sure he knows that my knight-marshal has something she wishes to discuss with him. It seems she has acquired a bottle of something that she requires him to understand for her.'
'At once, Your Holiness.'
Shezira watched Isentine leave. He had a spring in his step, one she hadn't seen for a long time. She could almost make herself believe that she'd done something good. A little ray of sunshine amid a much darker storm.
Two more days before I leave to buy Prince Jehal with my own daughter's flesh. Although I, above all, understand that is what we daughters are for.
4
The Speaker of the Realms
'How,' murmured Jehal, 'could anyone not covet it? I simply don't understand.'
Beside him he felt Zafir's skin, slick with sweat, move against his own. She turned towards him. 'Covet what, my lover?'
Jehal threw out his arms. They lay together in a carved wooden bed a thousand years old, swathed in silken sheets. In all four walls windows opened out to the sky and the vista of the Adamantine Palace and the City of Dragons below.
'This! All of this!'
Zafir pressed herself against him and began to stroke his chest.
'All of this,' she murmured. She sounded happy, Jehal thought, and well she might. She'd spent most of the night gasping, after all.
Jehal sighed and sat up. 'Yes, all of this. Wouldn't it be perfect? Ah… I'll never forget the first time my father brought me here. I sat in his saddle with his arms around me as we soared high in the air. The sky was a brilliant blue, the sun burning and bright, the ground far, far beneath us. Dark and green and lush. I could see distant mountains, and then beside them I saw something glitter. 1 pointed and asked what it was. My father said it was a jewel, the greatest jewel I would ever see, and he was right. The Adamantine Palace, glittering in the sun, the lakes sparkling around it, the mountains of the Purple Spur at its back. That sight is burned into my mind, like dragon's breath.' He smiled and shook his head. 'Awestriker. That's what my father's dragon was called. He was an old one even then, and long gone now. Sometimes I wish my father had gone with him. After my deranged little brother murdered our mother and the rest of our siblings, he was never the same. Lingering like this, drooling and deranged, it's not fitting. A king should live forever or else die in a blaze of glory.'
Zafir draped her arms around his shoulders. 'You have me.'
'Yes. I have you. More than enough for any man. The most beautiful princess in all the realms.'
'Queen,' she whispered, nibbling at his ear. 'My mother is dead. Some wicked man threw her off a dragon, remember?'
Jehal pulled her lips to his. 'That is a dangerous thing to say, my sweet. Your mother had an accident. I'm quite certain of it. And you're still a princess, not a queen. Not until Speaker Hyram says otherwise.'
