Dargonesti

“In any event, that’s not important. I came to pass along some news no one else may have bothered to share.”

“What news?”

“Uriona is marrying the Speaker of the Stars in one month’s time.”

If she had hit Coryphene with a club, she couldn’t have stunned him more. His arrested expression and sudden stillness were most gratifying.

“You lie,” he said at last. “You say so only to wound me. Uriona is mine.”

“In a month, you’ll be able to hear the marriage pipes from here,” Vixa said with a shrug. “Uriona never loved you. You were only a tool for her ambition. When greater power came her way, she grabbed it.” The Qualinesti princess stepped closer and raised one finger to tap the glass barrier that separated them. “Ponder that, Lord Protector. Think of Uriona in the palace with the Speaker of the Stars, as you live the rest of your days in this glass bowl.”

The angry flush had gone, leaving his face pallid and frozen. Vixa turned to leave, her mission accomplished. Nothing disturbed her enjoyment of the moment. She had only to remember Armantaro, Harmanutis, and Vanthanoris-none of them ever to return to Qualinesti soil-and all pangs of conscience vanished instantly. Let him sit alone in his crystal prison thinking of his love marrying another.

Vixa descended to say farewell to Samcadaris. Halfway down the long staircase, she heard a crash above, followed by the sound of rushing water. Rivulets flowed down the steps behind her. She stood immobile for an instant, then another sound filled the air. It was a scream, which stopped abruptly.

The Qualinesti princess’s face was blank. On the ground floor hall of the tower, she found the warriors rushing outside. She followed them. At the door stood Samcadaris.

“It’s Coryphene!” he exclaimed. “Somehow he erupted out of his cage and threw himself from the window!”

“Is he dead?” Samcadaris nodded, and she said flatly, “Good.”

He stared at her. “What did you say to him?” the marshal demanded.

“I only told him of the Speaker’s coming marriage.”

Samcadaris looked shocked. “You told him-”

“Coryphene chose his own path from Watermere to this tower,” she responded in a cold voice. “I will not grieve for him.”

The Marshal of Silvanost regarded her in silence for several seconds, then he did an odd thing. He saluted. Vixa returned the gesture. Her coldness melted, and she said warmly, “You are a fine elf, Samca. Thank you for believing in me back on that beach.”

They said their good-byes, and Vixa made her way to the royal stables. A fine, large griffon was saddled and ready. It had the magnificent head, neck, and wings of an eagle and the torso and hindquarters of a lion. A plumed lion’s tail fanned the air behind it. Panniers hung down on each flank, loaded with fine gifts and provisions. Gundabyr stood off to one side, regarding the beast dubiously.

“Are we supposed to ride this thing?” he asked. Since the high-backed saddle was even now being cinched on the griffon’s back, his question was obviously rhetorical.

Vixa smiled. “What’s the matter, afraid of flying?”

“So long as we stay dry, I can handle anything.” The dwarf climbed onto a tall mounting block and was assisted into the saddle. Vixa mounted in front of him. The great animal shifted under their weight, turning its fierce head to regard them silently. The handler gave Vixa the reins. There was no bit, of course. The reins were connected to a leather halter. The Qualinesti princess had never flown a griffon before, but she wasn’t about to let the Silvanesti know it. She took the reins confidently.

“What’s his name?” she asked the handler.

“Her name is Lionheart, lady,” was the smooth reply.

Vixa nodded as the handler stepped back. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “Ready, Gundabyr?” He grunted an affirmative, and Vixa snapped the reins. “Away, Lionheart!” she cried.

The beast spread its great wings, took a few steps forward, and leapt into the air.

Chapter 25

Homecoming

Vixa and Gundabyr flew straight to Thorbardin, where Lionheart landed at Northgate. Vixa tied the beast’s reins to a handy outcropping of rock, and she and Gundabyr descended into the underground city. At Gundabyr’s clan home in Daewar City, all of his family-and there were a lot of them-turned out to welcome him back and meet the Qualinesti princess. There was sadness, however, when Gundabyr relayed the news of his twin’s death.

The two friends parted on the best of terms, each promising to visit the other. Gundabyr’s multitudinous family all began planning a trip to Qualinost, hounding the poor fellow to give Vixa a firm date for the visit. Their attention grew so vexing, he drew Vixa aside and murmured, “Maybe I’ll just come visit you now-alone!”

Vixa laughed and bade them all farewell. She returned to the patient Lionheart. They ascended high over the mountains, flying northwest toward Qualinost. Their route took them directly over Pax Tharkas, the great fortress guarding the pass between Qualinesti and Thorbardin. It had been built jointly by the two countries to celebrate their peaceful coexistence. Vixa’s grandfather, the famous Kith-Kanan, had overseen its construction, and his tomb was deep inside it.

By the next morning, Vixa and Lionheart were circling Qualinost. The city was built on a plateau bounded by two rivers that flowed through deep gorges. The rivers merged at the northern point of the triangular plateau. Four silver-inlaid marble towers marked the cardinal points around the city. The towers were connected by arched bridges that encircled the city. The city’s buildings were built of rose quartz, which reflected the morning sun in a dazzling display. As Lionheart came to a gentle landing beside the golden Tower of the Sun, crowds of Qualinesti began to fill the city’s quartz-lined streets.

The last word any in Qualinost had received of Vixa and her party had been brought by Ambassador Quenavalen, who’d finally made it home himself only a week before. The ambassador, after speaking to Ergothian refugees at the mouth of the Greenthorn River, carried home the news that Evenstar had been lost, with all hands aboard, in a strange fog. Vixa was saddened to know the ship had never returned. It must have gone down when the kraken submerged beneath it.

Vixa walked up the grand steps and into the Speaker’s house, a huge, happy crowd trailing behind her. Kemian Ambrodel and Verhanna Kanan were waiting. Still in mourning for their youngest child and only daughter, they could barely credit her amazing arrival. The three had a joyous reunion. Speaker Silveran himself came out and greeted his niece, to the tumultuous cheers of the crowd.

Eventually the whole story was told. A banquet was given, and the celebrations lasted four days. Throngs of celebrants-highborn, lowborn, elven, human, dwarven-filled the feasting hall to hear Vixa relate her tale. Scribes took down every word, and copies were posted throughout the city for the benefit of those who didn’t hear the story firsthand.

When she finished recounting her adventures, Vixa was embraced by her mother. Tears sparkled in Verhanna’s dark brown eyes. “You were magnificent, Daughter! I’ll give you command of your own regiment-no, two regiments!”

“Thank you, Mother, but no.” Vixa sat down, holding out her goblet for more nectar. “I’ve seen enough war for a dozen lifetimes.”

“But, Vixa, you’ve proven yourself fit for higher command. The army-”

“Do you know what I really need, Mother?” Verhanna shook her head. “I need to disappear into a quiet forest glade for at least a month!”

Most of those assembled at the banquet laughed when they heard that, even the Speaker of the Sun, who was usually very solemn. Verhanna, however, was not at all amused. She returned to her place between the