And yet, that had happened in the past. Humans hadn’t just fought the dragons to a standstill, they’d beaten them and sent them home to Shambala in tatters. I had to push those thoughts of ancient powers and terrible mysteries away. The last thing I wanted was for this enormous creature to think I was threatening it.
“The service I performed for your kind was not only my doing,” I said. “Others helped me. Their actions have placed them in danger, too. I’ve come before you to humbly request you extend your offer of protection to those who need it.”
The dragon leaned forward and cupped its chin in scaled hands. Those enormous eyes burrowed into me, and the power of its awareness made me want to drop to my knees.
“There are fewer of us now than ever before,” Pyrroloshyrian admitted. “We do not have the resources to safeguard every human who has ever aided us. We must be careful how we deploy our forces.”
That was not what I’d hoped to hear. I struggled to hide my disappointment even as my thoughts scrambled over one another to find a solution to this problem. I was grateful that the dragons had vowed to protect me from my enemies, because I had so many of them. But I had to make the dragon see that I wasn’t the only one who needed its help. There had to be some way for me to secure protection for Cruzal and my friends, at least.
A thought bubbled to the surface of my mind, and I grabbed hold of it like a drowning man snatching a life preserver.
“What if you could protect me and the others who need it at the same time?” I asked.
The creature pondered my words and scratched at the underside of its jaw with an enormous talon. It gazed up at the ceiling, where an expansive portrait of itself coiled around the hall’s many pillars. Finally, it shrugged and rested its hands on the scepter.
“Yes,” Pyrroloshyrian said with a slow smile. “If you devise a way for my people to protect all of you with the same resources, we would be agreeable to that.”
A rush of excitement ran through me. My idea was risky, and it wasn’t perfect, but it would work. I took a moment to compose myself and arrange my words before I spoke. I had a feeling that once I made my request, the dragon would grant it exactly as I stated it.
“Thank you, honorable dragon,” I said. “I humbly request that you extend your protection to the School of Swords and Serpents and the students and faculty who reside therein.”
The dragon nodded as it considered my words. It raised its scepter to shoulder height, and silver light poured from its tip.
“I will grant your request,” the dragon said. “The Scaled Council will protect the main campus and all within its boundaries. Any enemy who raises a hand against the School also raises a hand against the dragons. Our eyes will be on that place, and our wings ever ready to carry us to you at a moment’s notice. But I must warn you, my small friend. Our protection does not extend beyond the School’s walls. If you leave that place, you are as vulnerable as any other human. Do you find that acceptable?”
That was what I had expected the dragon to say, and while it wasn’t ideal, it would have to work. Hunting for the next Empyrean Flame would take me outside the School more than once this year. I’d have to keep my travel secret and hope the heretics or other enemies wouldn’t have enough time to arrange an ambush.
Besides, I’d rest a lot easier knowing the dragons had our backs while we planned our next move from the safety of the School. That would also satisfy the promise I’d made to Cruzal and keep my fellow students safe from heretic attacks.
“That is a generous offer, and more than I had any right to ask,” I said with another bow. “I am in debt to you.”
“The dragons thank you for your service, Jace,” it said. “And before you leave, I would like to express my condolences for what has befallen your clan. If it had been within my power to stop it, I would have done so.”
The dragon’s words chilled me to the bone. I’d spent the summer in the library and focusing on advancement. I had heard nothing from my clan, which I’d taken as a good sign they were still searching for my mother and fighting the heretics. If they’d been in trouble, Sanrin or Hirani would have reached out to me. I didn’t know how to respond to the dragon’s condolences. I needed more information.
“I’m sorry, Pyrroloshyrian,” I said. “I don’t know what happened to my clan or how you could have stopped it.”
“You do not know,” the dragon said, his voice low and somber. He turned his face away from me, but not before I glimpsed terrible pain in his features. “You are not the only Phoenix with many enemies, young man. Your clan has ferreted out traitors and dangers to the Empyrean Flame over the years. Now that the Design has faltered, those enemies believe the time is right to strike.”
Fear stabbed through my heart. I couldn’t imagine all the powerful people my clan had offended since its creation. If they thought the Flame had vanished, then whatever protection it had offered to my people was gone, too. They’d be sitting ducks if everyone turned against them, especially when they were already engaged in open warfare with the heretics.
“What happened to them?” I asked.
“It is difficult to say, especially now that
