While Pet had been the immediate beneficiary of Shandrazel's insistence that the talks wouldn't dwell on the past, Pet found himself disturbed by the logic. Centuries of oppression of humans were to be dismissed as no worse than the murder of a few dragons. As attractive as it was to focus on a better future, Pet couldn't forget the things he'd witnessed in the Free City. But, was it necessary to forget? Or only to forgive? Was one the equal of the other?
Pet climbed the stairs to the roof. He walked to the edge and looked out over the Free City, ghostly in the light of a crescent moon. The frigid night air made his lungs ache; it was crisp and clean, yet somehow it couldn't quite remove the scent of blood and piss and muck that washed through his mind whenever he looked at the wooden palisades surrounding the Free City.
Pet froze as he heard a loud, long sigh behind him. Turning, he saw Graxen the Gray perched on a wall on the opposite side of the roof. The sky-dragon seemed oblivious to Pet as he stared across the open courtyard toward one of the many towers that studded the palace skyline. Graxen almost looked like a statue, immobile against the backdrop of stars. Pet followed his gaze and saw a valkyrie standing at attention on a distant balcony. Suddenly, the Free City no longer loomed in his mind; Pet was ever the romantic. He couldn't turn his attention away from a case of unrequited love.
Pet cleared his throat, startling Graxen from his reverie. Graxen flinched, as if he'd been caught doing something embarrassing.
'So,' Pet said, hopping onto the wall next to Graxen. From here it was a long, steep plunge into the courtyard. Luckily, Pet was immune to vertigo. 'What's her name?'
'W-whose name?' Graxen asked.
'The valkyrie. You know her?'
Graxen sighed. 'Nadala. In truth, I know little more than her name.'
'I thought that sky-dragons of different sexes didn't mingle. How'd you meet her?'
'She tried to stop me from entering the Nest,' said Graxen. 'I met her at the point of her spear.'
'Aren't they irresistible when they play hard to get?' Pet said with a knowing chuckle.
'I don't know what you mean,' said Graxen.
'Human women don't like to appear too easy. I assume the same is true with your females. They like to make you work to prove your interest.'
'I fear you know nothing of sky-dragon propagation,' Graxen said. 'My interest has nothing to do with mating. Desire may rule the reproductive choices of humans, but sky-dragons value their species too much to leave breeding to individual whims. Our biological destinies are determined by the matriarch and her advisors. We mate only with whom we are told to mate'
'Where's the fun in that?' Pet asked.
'What does fun have to do with mating?'
Pet felt a gulf arise between Graxen and himself that he wasn't sure could ever be crossed. Yet, there was no mistaking the look in Graxen's eyes. This dragon was lovesick, even if he didn't know it.
Pet studied the valkyrie across the way. He could see nothing remarkable about her except, perhaps, that she was standing at such diligent attention.
'She shows a remarkable commitment to duty,' Pet said.
'Yes,' Graxen said. 'She's guarding Zorasta.'
'She's probably on duty for hours. She might appreciate some company.'
'I don't wish to disturb her,' Graxen said.
'You won't disturb her. I saw the way she looked at you. She's as fascinated by you as you are by her.'
Graxen wrinkled his nose as if the concept disgusted him. 'Valkyries are too disciplined to ever be 'fascinated,' especially by one such as myself. You know nothing of our ways.'
'I saw the two of you nod to one another earlier.'
'It was only a respectful greeting.'
'If you fly over there, does your conversation carry any danger of turning into a session of passionate mating?'
'What? No!' Graxen looked genuinely mortified by the suggestion.
'That takes all the pressure off, then. You can hop over knowing all you're going for is a polite chat. There's no risk of anything messy. What's the harm?'
Graxen didn't answer. Pet could practically hear the wheels turning in the dragon's mind as he allowed himself to be convinced. Pet gave him one last nudge.
'At the very least, since she's stuck standing out here in the cold, you could ask if she'd like a cup of hot cider to fight the chill. You can bring her some from the kitchen if she says yes. It's not flirting. It's just being kind to a fellow dragon. It's showing respect and appreciation for her hard work.'
Graxen's eyes softened. 'It is cold tonight. It would be simple kindness to offer.'
'Go,' Pet said, giving Graxen a gentle push on the back. The sky-dragon tilted forward, looking for half a second like he would plummet into the courtyard, until he spread his gray wings and shot toward the distant balcony as if pulled by some powerful, unseen spring.
Pet decided at that moment he wouldn't flee the castle. For one thing, he was curious as to how this meeting would work out for Graxen. Secondly, he hoped that, sooner rather than later, Jandra would return. He didn't want to miss the chance to see her again. He grinned as he dreamily watched the distant dragons talking. He drifted into a fantasy that began with the offer of a cup of warm cider on a cool evening, then moved to a vision of Jandra's gown and his pants tangled together at the foot of a bed. Some small, quiet voice inside him warned that he might be skipping some steps in this scenario, but he'd honed to a wonderful degree the ability to ignore such small, quiet voices. He closed his eyes and let his body grow warm in the embrace of Jandra's invisible arms.
Nadala remained rigidly at attention as Graxen landed on a rainspout above her. Only the slightest tilt of her head revealed her awareness of his arrival.
'It's, uh, chilly tonight,' he said. His tongue felt stiff in his mouth as he spoke. His voice seemed to belong to someone else.
She whispered her answer, so softly he had to strain to hear it. 'It's not so cold. I've stood watches in snow. Tonight is almost balmy.'
'Oh,' said Graxen. 'Then, can I get you some warm cider?' He cringed as the words came out of him. She'd just said she wasn't cold!
'We're not allowed to drink on duty,' she whispered. She kept her eyes focused on the horizon, as if watching for the approach of invading armies.
'It's… it's quite a difficult job, I imagine, being a valkyrie. I-I want you to know I… uh… appreciate your hard work.' He grimaced at the prattle falling off his tongue. Why had he listened to the human?
'Thank you,' Nadala whispered.
Graxen found himself with nothing further to say. He'd thought he'd be flying off for cider about now. His heart pounded out the long seconds as neither of them spoke.
Nadala cast a brief glance upward, as if to assure herself he was still there. Her body quickly resumed the stance of an alert sentry as she whispered, 'It's kind of you to offer. Under different circumstances, I would take the cup.'
'You're going to be here at the palace for a few days, at least,' said Graxen. 'Perhaps we could meet-'
'I don't think that's wise, Graxen the Gray.'
'Oh,' he said.
'I wish the world were more fair,' she sighed.
'I know,' he said.
'Zorasta won't allow this conference to succeed,' Nadala said, sounding bitter. 'The matriarch has commanded that we cannot risk the existing world order. I wish she were open to the possibility that the world could be improved.'
Graxen felt his heart flutter as the implications of her words took hold.
'Then, you aren't happy with the world as it is? You dream of changing the old ways?'
'A valkyrie is devoid of dreams,' Nadala said, her voice firm and, somehow, not her own. It was as if she were speaking the words from rote. 'A valkyrie has no will of her own, no desire, save to serve the matriarch. We live and die for the greater good.'
