flight, with broad, crimson wings driven by a deep, well-muscled breast. He flew with powerful, precise movements, showing his mastery of the air. Tanthia followed. The queen was smaller than the king, sleeker, and her wings trailed yellow silk ribbons that flashed in the sunlight. If anything, she looked even more graceful in the air than Albekizan. In contrast to the elegant royal couple, Kanst followed behind in his slow, jerky motion. Weighed down by his heavy armor, the great bull dragon beat the air mightily, raising himself higher one flap at a time before holding his wings stiff and gliding down, losing the height he’d gained. He didn’t so much fly as climb and fall through the sky. Zanzeroth lagged even further behind, the stiff movements of his wings betraying his half-healed wounds. Another dragon would have stayed in bed with such injuries, Jandra suspected, but the tough old hunter was too proud ever to admit to weakness. A single sky-dragon completed the procession, Pertalon. Despite his youth and strength, Pertalon trailed behind Zanzeroth, for he carried a burden, a cocoon of white cloth wrapped around what looked to be the body of a man.
Could it be Pet? Could it not be? She should have freed Pet when she had the chance. Now that Vendevorex was going to fight the king, there was no need for Pet to sacrifice himself. As much as she hated Vendevorex she respected his abilities, and knew that if he was intent on overthrowing the king, he would. The white bundle struggled as the dragons banked. She felt heartened that Pet was still alive. Jandra would help Bitterwood for now. When she found the information he needed, she would make him return the favor and rescue Pet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: MYTH
METRON WATCHED ALBEKIZAN’S party fly from the grand hall toward the Free City. He’d received an invitation to join the king but had politely declined, stating that he was feeling under the weather. Metron had suspected the king wouldn’t take no for an answer, and had been anticipating the appearance of a few guards. Knowing the king proceeded without him was humbling. Apparently, he wasn’t essential to the running of the kingdom.
Despite learning that he wasn’t as vital to the king’s court as he sometimes fancied, he was also relieved. Whatever the king had planned, the timing couldn’t have been worse. The note passed to Metron moments before he’d been summoned made it vital he stay; Androkom, the biologian who boasted of knowing the secret of life, had arrived. The scholar and his equipment were waiting below in Metron’s personal study.
Metron hurried through the stone corridors and stairwells that led to the maze of books below. When he arrived at his study he found the door ajar. It locked with a secret key that only another initiated biologian would possess.
“Androkom?” he said, peering into the dark chamber.
“I’m here,” his fellow biologian said. In the darkness, there was a creak as the shutter of an oil lamp was opened. The light revealed Androkom sitting at the table in the center of the room, his pale blue form half-hidden behind a stack of books. A well-worn leather satchel rested on the table before him. Androkom clutched the strap of the satchel tightly in his ink-stained fore-talons as he nodded in silent greeting. Metron stepped into the room, pushing the door shut behind him. He gasped as the closing door revealed that they were not alone. The rich scarlet scales of a sun-dragon’s breast filled his vision. A familiar face loomed over him.
“Shandrazel!” he cried.
“Please,” Shandrazel said in a loud whisper. “Lower your voice.”
“Sneaking back into the castle with a dragon of Shandrazel’s stature wasn’t easy,” Androkom said. “You’ll understand that we’d rather not be discovered.”
“What’s the meaning of this?” Metron asked, pointing his walking staff toward Androkom. “Are you assisting the prince? This is treason! He’s duty-bound to kill the king!”
“Nonsense,” Shandrazel said. “I never felt any obligations to the old ways. I feel even less now that I know how artificial the so-called ‘ancient traditions’ truly are. Androkom has told me much about the ways of the biologians.”
“Tell me this is a lie, Androkom,” Metron said. “You cannot have told him the initiated secrets.”
Androkom nodded. “I did; at least, what I had time to tell. I respect you, High Biologian. But I no longer respect our ways. The higher I have risen in the ranks, the more I have learned that has troubled me. Shandrazel and I share an abiding faith in the redemptive power of truth.” Androkom toyed with the shutter of the lantern as he spoke, opening it fully to cast as much light as possible over the chamber. The younger biologian glanced around at the dusty tomes and shadowed niches of Metron’s private study. “The Book of Theranzathax speaks of using light to carve the world from darkness,” he said. “We think it’s time for the obscuring haze of lies to be burned away by the lantern of honest inquiry.”
“Androkom,” Metron said, stepping to the table, placing his fore-talons on the heavy oak for balance as he leaned closer. “You must reconsider this reckless path you’ve chosen. I’ve known you for years. I’ve watched you rise through the ranks at a nearly unequaled pace. Why destroy the very title you’ve worked so hard to earn?”
Androkom met Metron’s condemning gaze without blinking. He said, “I entered the ranks of the biologians seeking knowledge. It disturbs me that my role has become one of concealing truths, rather than revealing them. Too much of what’s taken as common fact by most dragons is merely carefully constructed fiction.”
“Yes!” Metron hissed. “Carefully constructed! Designed by the most brilliant minds who ever lived to give dragons a grand destiny! You cannot brashly destroy the work of centuries!”
“Metron,” said Shandrazel, “I will grant that you have only the best interests of dragons at heart. No doubt the most central myths of the dragons were crafted solely for the benefit of our kind. But we are not alone on this world… We share it. Would my father now be waging war against the humans if he knew the truth? The petrified skeletons that adorn our halls… these are not the remains of our ancestors. Our species is barely a millennium old. We owe our existence to humanity.”
“We owe nothing to humanity,” said Metron. “I’ve studied the manuscripts they left behind. When they ruled this world, they poisoned it with their own filth. They were like yeast in a corked bottle, growing until they choked in toxins of their own making.”
“So you support my father’s genocide?” Shandrazel asked.
Metron felt the anger drain out of him at this question. His whole body sagged. “No,” he said softly. “No matter their past sins, I want to avoid the coming slaughter. In my studies, I’ve learned much of human ways. In their time of dominance, humans callously drove uncountable species into extinction. I would like to think that we dragons are above this.”
“As would I,” said Shandrazel.
“And I,” said Androkom. “So, it seems we have some common ground to build upon.”
“Yes,” said Metron. “Still, you should not have shared our secrets, Androkom.”
“I find your hypocrisy on this most intriguing,” said Androkom. “You would withhold the truth from Shandrazel, who’s known for his integrity. Yet you share our secrets with Blasphet, the Murder God?”
Metron scowled. “Blasphet has learned many of our secrets against my will. Showing him tomes written by humans will tell him nothing he hasn’t already deduced.”
Shandrazel said, “What Blasphet knows or doesn’t know isn’t important, in the end. Our course is clear. We must tell my father the truth about the origins of dragons. In light of the new information, he’ll halt the genocide and imprison my uncle once more.”
Metron felt his jaw hanging open. “You… you really believe that?” he asked incredulously.
“My father may be stubborn and stern, but he’s bound to listen to reason.”
Metron shook his head. “My prince, you are too idealistic. The biologians at the College of Spires did their best to craft you into a being that respects truth and fairness, in hopes of shaping a future king. But I fear they’ve left you ignorant of the way the world actually works.”
“No. Not ignorant. Educated. Once my father learns the truth, he will see the folly of his war on the humans and rescind the death orders. We dragons pride ourselves on being the highest product of the laws of nature, the rightful rulers of the earth, while the humans follow religions that tell them that they are separate from nature, and were created independently of it. All along, the opposite was true.”
“He’ll never believe you,” Metron said. “Furthermore, you’ll never have a chance to make your argument. He’ll kill you on sight. He’ll throttle the life from you while you’re standing there like an idiot trying to appeal to his
