She did stop though. Her path led her to a huge stone barn. Its immense black doors were ajar and a warm wind blew out at her from inside. The air reeked of hatchling and heat and death. Several soldiers stood between her and the door, but the smell would have stopped her anyway. Her face tightened. The smell was one that every eyrie knew. A hatchling had died.
As she stood there, she heard Isentine, still shouting at Almiri's soldiers, and then the soldiers arriving behind her.
'Your Highness, by order of the queen, you are not permitted-'
She spun around and slapped the speaker across his face, then turned straight back again. She didn't move, only watched as the great black doors swung open.
'One of your queen's dragons has died,' she said, very quietly. Anyone who worked in an eyrie, even the guards, ought to know better than to do anything except be still and to watch until the alchemists and the Scales had done their work.
Four Scales dressed in heavy leather gauntlets and overalls emerged, dragging behind them a heavy stone sled. The dead hatchling lay on the sled, curled up. Not covered by anything in case it caught fire. Two alchemists followed behind. They carried silver bowls hanging from chains in their hands and they swung them back and forth, gently sprinkling water and their potions over the hatchling's sizzling scales. All six men wore masks. The alchemists made potions that mitigated the worst effects of Hatchling Disease, but the strain of the disease from a dead hatchling was the most virulent of them all. I'.ven the Scales were not immune.
Jaslyn stood very still, watching as they dragged the dragon away. She felt the heat of its death fade as the body was pulled out of sight. When they were gone she moved very slowly, surrendering herself to the soldiers behind her, letting them walk her to the edge of the eyrie and into the inner walls of the Palace of Paths, towards Almiri and her council. None of that seemed to matter now. She was lost, swallowed by a delirious kaleidoscope of glorious hope and crushing despair. Never mind that the colours had been all wrong; she knew with a certainty that she couldn't understand that the dead hatchling had been her Silence.
Reborn.
Remembering.
Which made it all true. Every bit of it.
20
Vale stood on the walls as the skies darkened with dragons. After thirty years in the Adamantine Guard, the sight of so many still made his heart trip. He'd never seen them in such numbers before, even when all the kings and queens had come together at the passing of Iyanza to name Hyram as the next speaker. They flew in from the west and circled over the palace and then began to land around the edges of the Mirror Lakes. The speaker's eyrie was already full, but that didn't seem to trouble them. They'd brought their own, he slowly realised. Everything they needed. The excitement inside him felt strange and he wondered what was stirring him so. Later, as the skies cleared and the first riders walked their dragons to the palace gates, he understood. Thirty years in the Guard. He'd seen kings and queens and speakers come and go, but in all that time the King of the Crags had never come out of his mountains to the palace. It made you wonder why this time was so special.
Apparently we nearly went to war this morning. All very exciting. I do hope there weren't any accidents.'
Vale jumped and gritted his teeth. Prince Jehal had somehow crept up behind him.
'Mind you, I suppose we're still not quite sure, eh? My father used to tell stories about the King of the Crags. Back when he could still string a sentence together of course. Back when I was a little boy.'
Vale bowed and said nothing. Why are you telling me these things? Do you think that we shall somehow pretend that we are friends?
Jehal was still talking and it didn't seem to matter to him whether Vale was listening. 'All sorts of stories. They say the Mountain King has more dragons than any two kings or queens together. Is it true, Night Watchman. Did you count them?'
'I did not. Your Highness, but it will be done. I would say some three hundred and fifty beasts, but there are men in the Guard with better eyes than mine.'
'Three hundred and fifty! Ancestors! My father wasn't making it up then.'
What do you want from me? Again Vale held his tongue. The answer was obvious – Jehal wanted to know whether he would betray the speaker. Well you'll get nothing from me now. We'll see about that soon enough.
'I wonder if that means that the rest of it's true too.' A procession of dragons was walking up from the Mirror Lakes. Twenty war-dragons each with four riders on their backs. Three scorpions mounted on each saddle. Vale frowned at that. It was unusual to see three. Most eyrie-masters don't mount a scorpion on the nape of the neck like that. Too many accidents when a rider tries to shoot at an enemy straight ahead of him.
Jehal seemed oblivious. 'My father used to tell tales of mischief,' he said. 'He used to say that there was another race of people who lived in the mountains. Little people, short, who stood no higher than the pit of your arm. With mean spirits filled with wickedness. Said they served the King of the Crags and that he would send them out to sow the seeds of discontent and rebellion among the good men and women of the realms.'
And why bother when there are teeth and claws and fire that serve the same purpose with a great deal more effect? Or when we have the likes of you among us? Vale said nothing.
'He said they moved among us, unseen but there nonetheless.'
For a moment Vale couldn't resist. 'The first Valmeyan fought against Vishmir in the War of Thorns. It is said among the Guard that he ran circles around even your Prince Lai. After Anzuine executed Speaker Voian, Valmeyan abandoned him and flew to the mountains, taking half the dragons from the Pinnacles with him. He took his own alchemists. No one knew where he was.'
Jehal chuckled. 'The Great Dragon Hunt. Yes, I know all about that. Though I don't think he had much love for his speakers. No, I'd say what he did had a lot more to do with Anzuine and you Adamantine Men sacking the Silver City. Not a clever thing to do, burning the home of your foremost dragon-marshal. But I take your meaning. It is true that we of the south have little love for the mountain men. My father would say that all bad things have their birth within the caves and tunnels of the Worldspine.'
'The potions that control your dragons have their origins there, Your Highness,' murmured Vale.
'You have me again, Night Watchman. Good things have their birth there as well, I dare say.'
'The Great Flame tells us two things: all that brought order to the world came from the Worldspine long ago; and all that will render the world unto ash will come from there also.'
The prince made a face. 'Don't tell me you listen to that priestly rubbish.'
'I may have forsaken love and a long life, Prince Jehal, but I have not forsaken faith. The Flame burns brightly among the Adamantine Men.' He spoke mildly, hiding the disgust he felt. Were you not a prince I would reach out and with one hand I would crush your throat and snap your spine. He had a flashing vision of ramming his fist right down Jehal's throat and tearing his tongue out by the roots. It was deeply satisfying.
'I didn't know that,' said the Viper softly. 'I will remember in future. I'm sorry if I offended you, Night Watchman.'
Vale kept his face blank. 'There is no offence, Your Highness.' You indolent, faithless piece of shit.
'Good. Then shall we see what the Worldspine has vomited up for us this time?' Jehal laughed. 'The King of the Crags draws near. And amid the pleasure of our conversation I seem to have quite forgotten my errand. The speaker has called for you at once. You are to greet the king on her behalf and escort him to the council of kings and queens. He is late, after all, and they're all waiting for him. You might mention that to him.'
For a moment the iron control that held Vale Tassan together creaked and shifted. His face blanched. 'I am to greet the King of the Crags?'
'The speaker is the speaker, and Valmeyan, for all his airs, is still a mere king and must bend his knee to her. She could not possibly come to him.' Jehal smiled a happy smile. 'Of course, if you are daunted, I will be happy to take your place.'
Oh I don't think so slippery one. 'I am honoured, Your Highness, and flattered. I will do as I am commanded, as
