Song of the Dragon

which lies it had told on top of other lies, and too often real truth would surface to the detriment of the state.

It was during the Age of Mists, Ch’drei recalled, that the Scrolls of Xathos came to the elves. The legends every elf knew by heart told of the great Rhonas, father of their Empire, wresting the scrolls from the gods in a challenge of wits and physical strength and founding the magic on which the Empire would be forged. Its epic tale made Rhonas the undisputed leader of the elves trying to conquer a land that was then called Palandria.

But the truth was that the Scrolls of Xathos were bartered from a group of manticores who had no concept of their worth as they were capable neither of reading the scrolls nor of reproducing the magic even if they could read. They had stolen those scrolls centuries before from the chimera in Ephindria who themselves had stolen them from the humans of Drakosia beyond the Erebus Straits to the north.

But the truth would not make Rhonas a mythic emperor.

So it was that early in the burgeoning Rhonas state nearly eighteen hundred years ago, it was decided that one group would be tasked with keeping the actual truth intact against those times when new lies had to be crafted in the face of reality. After all, a lie based on a truth is far more effective than one made up entirely of whole cloth. The truth-a powerful and dangerous thing-would be kept safely hidden from the general populace and often from the guilds and Orders of the Empire as well when it was in the interests of the Imperial Will.

The Guardians of the Imperial Family-the Iblisi-were originally charged with this task, and for nearly two millennia they labored tirelessly as Keepers of the Truth and the touchstones of the Imperial Will. The histories were written and rewritten, torn down and written once again to shape the minds of the Rhonas elves to support whatever the current political climate wished to be true in the public heart. Yet through it all, the Iblisi remained the keepers of the true past and the black, violent, and immoral bloody treacheries that were the constant tempo of the real Rhonas histories.

The Age of Frost, the Age of Mists, the Age of Fire. . all were chronicled in gory, terrible detail and then buried here; buried for the good of the citizens of every Estate and the welfare of the Imperial Rule.

Yet unbeknownst to the many guilds, Imperial Orders and ministries of the Empire-even to the Emperor’s own thoughts-was the deepest truth of all: that for many years the Iblisi were not as concerned with safeguarding the past as they were with avoiding destiny.

The Empire was doomed; the Iblisi alone knew it, and they alone had any hope of preventing it.

Prevent it, Ch’drei thought as she sat on her throne, at any cost.

The doors opposite her opened with a terrible booming sound that echoed between the squat pillars of the hall. The Keeper smiled graciously at the figure approaching her with determined, quick strides.

“Inquisitor Soen,” Ch’drei said through a smile. “How good of you to pay your. .”

“Keeper Ch’drei!” Soen angrily cut across the Keeper’s words. “Why am I here?”

The Keeper drew in a breath before she lightly responded. “Why, my very question to you, Inquisitor. . why are you here?”

Soen ignored her attempt to blunt his anger. “Three weeks! Three weeks since we returned from the Hyperian Plain and still I’m kept in the Imperial City like some shackled animal!”

“Hardly shackled! I would have thought you might have taken more time to recover from your journey. . or at least reacquaint yourself with the pleasures of Rhonas.”

“You know that the city holds no interest for me. My duty lies in Vestasia-not behind these damp walls.”

“Of course,” Ch’drei said in purring tones. “But I have only begun to bend the Imperial Will over Murialis and your bolters. It could take weeks more before we can apply any real pressure on. .”

“Keeper, we both know that I should have left weeks ago,” Soen interrupted once more. “We cannot be certain that Murialis will hold them at all. I must leave at once. We dare not risk losing them.”

“Calm yourself,” the Keeper replied. “Haste breeds mistakes, Soen. . you of all people know that.”

Soen seemed about to make a sharp reply but hesitated, his face relaxing slightly. “Indeed, you are right, my Keeper, but the circumstances dictate haste. I should not have returned so far as the Imperial City in the first place.”

“Have a care, Soen,” Ch’drei said with an edge in her voice. “It was I that instructed you to return here.”

“And in doing so have cost us both not only weeks of delay but the contact with the beacon stones that mark their path,” Soen countered. “I could have been in Vestasia reacquiring them by now if you had. .”

“If I had done what-bartered passage for you through the Imperial Folds? And just how would I have done that without giving the Occuran answers about the Provinces or the Myrdin-dai some report on the mess they are still cleaning up on the frontier? They only granted you and your Quorum access last time to find out why they had been made out as fools-they certainly would not have done so again without receiving their payment for your last adventure! You may be a great Inquisitor, Soen, but you know nothing about politics. One day you’ll trip over your tongue once too often, boy, and fall where no amount of craft can save you.”

“Forgive me, Keeper,” Soen said carefully. “I serve at your pleasure.”

“Yes, you do,” Ch’drei said, her tone still sharp. “And you will continue to do so. Having been so adamant, I hesitate to tell you that I have indeed arranged passage with the Occuran through their Imperial Trade Folds as you requested. You have been granted an Imperial Charge that cannot be questioned and that leaves you free to pursue your target at any price-any price, you understand.”

“Yes, my Keeper.”

Ch’drei nodded with satisfaction. “Very well, Soen. How do you intend to proceed?”

“I must leave at once, Keeper,” Soen said. “I’ll follow the Trade Folds into occupied Chaenandria and then the old Northmarch Folds as far as Yurani Keep. Then I’ll make my way southwest, to pick up their track once more. My Matei remains aligned to the traitor’s beacon stones. It is only a matter of time after that.”

The Keeper raised her brow over her glossy black eyes. “Time before what?”

“Before I track down this Drakis and find out who he really is.” Soen said. “If he’s worth your time, Ch’drei, then I’ll bring him back to you as a gift.”

Ch’drei smiled. She could imagine Soen thinking and rethinking this plan each day for the last three weeks. “Bring this Drakis back to us and we’ll see if he is of any use. I am counting on your skill and your discretion. No one may know of this, you understand. I am sending you out alone and with no Quorum in support. This is against the laws of our Order, but under the circumstances I think it best you be left to act on your own.”

“Wisdom indeed,” Soen said with a smile. “For if I am discovered. .”

“I will deny that this conversation ever took place,” Ch’drei nodded. “I believe we are both clear on this subject?”

“Yes, Keeper,” Soen nodded. “When may I leave?

“Within the hour,” Ch’drei said. “You are expected at the Trade Folds of the Occuran before noon.”

“Thank you. I shall bring honor to your name, Ch’drei,” Soen said with a slight bow and a wry smile.

“I have every confidence in you, Soen,” Ch’drei smiled in return.

The Keeper watched her Inquisitor as he backed a few steps from her and then turned, his strides carrying him across the floor back to the still open doors. He stopped and, flashing a sharp-toothed grin, pulled the doors closed as he bowed out of the room.

Ch’drei sat for a moment, waiting for the deep silence to once again permeate the room. She always thought of the silence as a physical thing that she both welcomed and respected. She reveled in it for a while longer until she was certain that it would not be disturbed by Soen again.

“You understand what you have heard?” Ch’drei whispered into the silence.

The silence whispered back. “Yes, Lady Ch’drei.”

“And your Quorums? Are its members in place?”

“Yes, Lady Ch’drei,” came the hushed response, barely echoing between the columns supporting the low ceiling overhead. “They are arranged among the Trade Portals as you requested. Everything lies in wait.”

“And none of the Quorum members know your mission,” the Keeper said, stressing each of the words as she spoke. “It is absolutely vital that you alone know your true mission-that you alone complete it.”

“They know only that we serve the Iblisi,” the voice replied. “They will obey me without question.”