were incomprehensible. They seemed completely in the thrall of the prophet Kamon who had convinced them that their passage to the Free City was foretold by his visions.
Jandra knew the Free City was meant to kill them, but doubted she could convince anyone of this. She’d never persuade people the dragons were the enemy while all the residents of the Free City slept with full stomachs on clean linens. The humans were more a threat to themselves than the dragons were, as the only violence she had seen since arriving in the city was a brawl between the followers of the prophet Kamon and the followers of a rival prophet named Ragnar, whom she had yet to meet.
At last, she had walked the streets until she was weary enough to sleep, no matter how troubled her thoughts. With a sigh she returned to the small house she shared with Zeeky. Perhaps in the morning her mind would be clearer.
ANDROKOM WEARILY GLANCED over his shoulder once more. No one followed, though the spiky fringe of scales on his neck still tingled with the sensation that he was being watched. The sky was crystal clear; if anyone was behind him, he would certainly have seen him.
“You’re paranoid,” he said to himself.
Maybe, he thought. But I still think I’m being followed.
At length, thirst crept into his awareness, overpowering his caution. He was only hours away from Albekizan’s palace but could go no further. He needed water, a good meal, and a long nap.
In the distance a fat river gleamed like a band of silver. He spied a small, tree-covered island in the middle of the waters and knew this would be the perfect spot to rest. No one could sneak up on him there. Besides, who would want to? Only Metron and his fellow biologians knew of his journey. Certainly none of them would have set pursuers after him, would they?
If only Metron hadn’t uttered that cursed name: Blasphet, the Murder God. What could the High Biologian be thinking in dealing with such a disturbed mind? Moreover, was he a fool for helping? Could this be some elaborate scheme by Blasphet to lead the biologians to their deaths?
“You’re paranoid. Only an idiot could dream up such concerns,” he said. He often talked to himself on long journeys. He wished, if he must talk to himself, that he wouldn’t be so insulting.
Androkom swooped down, gliding along the moist air above the river, watching fish dart and scurry beneath the ripples. His blue hide was reflected in the surface of the water. He tilted his wings up to slow himself, then swung his legs forward to land on the island’s sandy shore. The small beach faced north, shaded from the sun, and the sand was cool and soothing beneath his talons. The damp sand carried an aroma that reminded Androkom of the Isle of Horses, where he’d trained with the biologian Dacorn. Androkom unstrapped the pack he carried on his chest and set it gently on the sand, careful not to jar the equipment he carried. He walked to the water’s edge and knelt, craning his long neck forward until his chin touched the water. With one last glance over his shoulder to confirm he was alone, he stuck out his tongue and lapped up the cool, fresh water.
The water was exceptionally still in the little cove, so still his own face looked back at him as he drank, distorted only by the small wavelets his tongue created. Again, he felt the strange sensation that he wasn’t alone and looked behind him. Shrugging it off, he lowered his head to the water once more. Suddenly, he began to choke as his reflection was joined by two others, a sky-dragon and a sun-dragon, standing on the beach next to him.
Androkom jumped forward into the knee-deep water and spun around. To his dismay, he recognized one of the intruders.
“Shandrazel!” he shouted. He’d heard about the reception the banished prince had received at the College of Spires and feared that Shandrazel might not feel warmly toward biologians.
“Don’t panic, Androkom,” Shandrazel said. “You’ve nothing to fear from us.”
Androkom straightened himself, raising his wings for balance. “You remember me, Prince? I’m flattered.” He’d met Shandrazel almost five years ago, while the prince was still under the tutelage of Dacorn.
“Of course,” Shandrazel said. “I was impressed by your argument that books often contain falsehoods and contradictions. So many of the biologians seem fixed on the notion that if it’s written, it must be true. It helped guide me to the view that the form of government we dragons have chosen might not be the wisest one.”
“A surprisingly enlightened view for a prince of the realm,” Androkom said. He cast a glance at the sky-dragon beside Shandrazel. A biologian? Why didn’t he recognize him? Unless… could it be? “Who, may I ask, is your companion?”
“I am Vendevorex,” the sky-dragon answered.
“Of course,” Androkom said with a knowing nod. “I’ve tried to make your acquaintance before now. I wanted to discuss your so-called ‘magic.’ I have theories as to its origins. Did you not receive my letters?”
“I received them,” Vendevorex said. “I ignored them. The source of my powers is my secret. If I won’t reveal it to the king, you can’t expect that I’d share it to you.”
“I heard rumors you’d taken ill,” Androkom said. “I took this to mean you’d fallen out of favor with Albekizan. I assume you’ve joined Shandrazel’s quest to overthrow his father?”
“I’ve not come to overthrow my father,” Shandrazel said.
Vendevorex added, “Albekizan knows nothing of our alliance. With luck, he thinks I’m dead.”
“I see,” said Androkom, walking back onto the shore, shaking his tail and wings to dry them.
“We’re sorry if we frightened you,” Shandrazel said. “We were traveling back toward my father’s castle when we spotted you. We followed you until you came to rest. Knowing your reputation as one who is unafraid to challenge authority, I felt that I could trust you.”
“Your instincts serve you well,” Androkom said. “I’m at your service. But, may I ask, where were you? I felt I was being watched but saw no sign of pursuit.”
“I used my magic to make us invisible,” Vendevorex said.
“I believe you were invisible,” Androkom said, “but I don’t believe you’re magic. I’ve read tomes describing ancient technologies. I believe you are in possession of a Magnetically Integrated Rapidly Rotating Optical Reversal System.”
The wizard looked stunned. “I’ve never met another dragon I could discuss this with. I’m impressed. You’re right. It’s done with M.I.R.R.O.R.S.”
“But how did you come to be in possession of the technology? Having the information is a far leap from having the artifacts.”
Vendevorex glanced at Shandrazel, then back at Androkom. “For many years I’ve guarded such secrets and recently, I paid a great price by having one such secret revealed. You must trust me when I say it could prove dangerous to tell you all I know.”
“Your secrets may not be as secret as you think,” Androkom said. “For years, we biologians have known the truth: the humans who live among us are the degenerate remnants of a once ascendant human civilization. They possessed knowledge beyond our imaginations. They had technology that we cannot distinguish from magic. They walked upon the moon, and explored the deepest depths of the oceans. They possessed other machines so small they could not be seen by the naked eye, devices that could transform matter from its most basic components into refined, priceless treasures. Most impressive of all, they knew the secret code of life itself.”
“Astonishing,” said Shandrazel. “Can it be true?”
“It is,” said Vendevorex. “Their civilization peaked over a thousand years ago. Much of what they created has decayed over the years. My magic is accomplished using what they referred to as nanotechnology. The silver dust in my pouch is composed of these tiny machines, powered by the sun itself. They respond to thoughts, transmitted via my skullcap, or Jandra’s tiara.”
“This… this technology could change the world,” Shandrazel said. “Why have you kept this secret?”
“Because,” said Vendevorex, “I gave my word.”
“To whom?” Shandrazel asked.
Vendevorex looked around, as if he, too, were worried someone might be listening. “Not all of human civilization collapsed to its present, degenerate state. Far beyond our shores exists a city where men live as gods. I’ve visited there and seen wonders beyond description. These men travel to other worlds. They fly through the air more gracefully than dragons. They’ve conquered death. They reshape matter with the most casual wish. The secrets I’ve stolen from them are so trivial as to be beneath their notice. My so-called magic wouldn’t impress an infant in this wondrous city.”
“How can this be?” Shandrazel asked. “If there are people with so much power, why don’t they help their fellow humans? Why aren’t they here right now?”
