stone, she poured fire into the wound.
Finally the stone groaned and rumbled. Half the keep crumbled away and tipped her off in a shower of broken masonry. She landed on her back and floundered for a few seconds before she managed to right herself.
Where? How? How do I get to them? They were still alive, some of them. They were buried in there, out of her reach, but she could feel their thoughts. Raw, hot burning terror to make her heart sing with joy. Pain too. A lot of pain, but they were alive, and they were supposed to be dead.
Her anger had become a living thing with a will of its own, as though she carried with her the spirits of all dragonkind, freed from the dull shells the human alchemists made for them. It is enough, she tried to tell it. They are probably dying. Even if they are not, they cannot escape. They are trapped.
No! It is not enough!
But I should leave some to live. That is our plan. Some must live to tell of what has happened. Then other dragons will come and we will take them to us.
But not these! These tried to kill you! Let us destroy them all. Leave nothing but ash and rubble. Burn them to dust!
Why? Because they pricked my scales? She paused to pull the scorpion bolt from her neck. There. It is gone. In a sunrise or two, I will barely remember it.
Because they dared!
She had no answer to that. She smashed and climbed her way back out of the castle. A good portion of the eastern half of the town was ablaze now. The rest of it was doomed. What could burn would burn. Stones would crack and split in the heat. People would collapse, overwhelmed by smoke. Even if she did vent more rage on them, it would make little difference.
And vengeance is futile, remember. That is what I told Kemir. Dragons do not act out of kindness. Dragons do not forgive, but nor do dragons avenge, So then what is this desire?
She already knew the answer to that. The anger was fading. The rest was pleasure. Fun. Fun forgotten for too long to resist. She launched herself back into the air. The western side of the town, away from the castle, was still intact. She hadn't set fire to even a part of it yet. Already, people were appearing on the eastern riverbank looking for a way to get across.
It would be so easy to destroy them all. And so satisfying, and yet if I do then what have I achieved?
She almost left them then, almost turned and climbed into the sky to wait for more dragons to come, but at the last moment she gave in to her desires and wheeled and dived and plunged down into the river. I have done this before. I remember. The one half of the city she would leave untouched. From the other half, none would escape. When men tried to row, she upended their boats. When they tried to swim, she flipped them out of the water with her tail. Some of them she caught and ate. Others she simply hurled back into the black haze of flickering smoke. Yes, I have done this before. There had been other dragons then. And things that weren't dragons and yet were even more terrifying and made us seem small; and not all that came out of the smoke and the flames was human. I remember. I remember how this feels.
It felt glorious.
She stayed until no one else came to the waterfront. Perhaps an hour passed, perhaps more. Certainly the sun had moved when she took to the air again. She felt sated. Fulfilled? Free?
Happy. That was what she felt. Happy. She hadn't felt happy for a very long time. Lifetimes.
This is not vengeance, Kemir. If you knew the truth, if you felt what I feel now, you would wish it was. I feel joy.
He couldn't know. Not now, not yet, not for a little while. Not until she was done with him. So she took her time flying back to him on his hill, until she could push the feeling back beneath the waters of her thoughts. Until she could keep it in a place Kemir would never see but where she would never forget.
30
'King Valmeyan left this morning,' said Jeiros. He wasn't looking at Jehal as he was talking. Well he was, but not at Jehal's face. He frowned and leaned forward. 'You need to relax,' he said as Jehal winced in anticipation of yet more pain. 'Stay very still. Neither of us would be pleased if my stitches go awry.'
All very well for you to say. A searing jab ran right up from his groin as far as his neck. And this is with my veins filled with more Dreamleaf than blood. He bit down on the leather strap that the alchemist had given him.
'Are you still finding it difficult to pass water?'
This is what his father had had to put up with. In the beginning, before disease had taken his mind away. Help to stand, help to eat, help to clean himself. Help with everything. I'd rather die. 'I wouldn't call it difficult. Uncomfortable,' he said through gritted teeth. Unbearable blinding agony, more like. But only Kazah sees how much it pains me, and Kazah doesn't speaks so none of you will ever know.
'The speaker has promised to crown you as soon as you are able to walk into the Glass Cathedral.'
'And how long will that be, Master Alchemist?' She hasn't come to see me. No word. Nothing. Does she thin I can't watch her from in here? Does she thinly I don't see who she takes to her bed? He fingered the strip of white silk he kept hidden beneath his pillow. Even confined to his bed, the magical metal Taiytakei dragons roamed the palace at night, guided by his whim. Prince Tichane, King Valmeyan's right hand, he was the one to watch. He had his hands halfway up Zafir's gown already and was plenty busy elsewhere too. Jehal needed to know what he was up to. I need to move. Watching is one thing, but I need to hear. I need to speak. I need to walk. I need to be seen. How quickly people forget that I am even here.
'Another week, perhaps two.' Jeiros shook his head. 'I'm having the best wood-carvers in the city make a crutch for you for the occasion.'
'So I can stumble in with one lifeless leg dragging behind me? No, thank you.'
'It'll be months before you can walk without help. If you ever can. You need to be crowned, Jehal. There are far too many realms without a proper king. Right.' Jeiros straightened up. 'There. The stitches are done. The dressing is changed. You're rid of me for another day. Before you're crowned, there's another ceremony we should have, you and I. I suppose you know most of it already, but there are certain secrets that my order holds that we like to share with our kings and queens.'
Jehal rolled his eyes. 'You mean things like, oh, by the way, the dragons you fly on are only dumb pliable beasts when they're drugged to the eyeballs with your special potions.'
'That's the start of it, yes. It can take anything between a week and a month for the effects to wear off. Did you know that?'
'And then they're ravening vengeful monsters. I do know what happened at the redoubt, Jeiros.'
'Then you know how clever they become. The white one's been seen again. Did you know that, Your Holiness?'
'No. I heard it was dead with the rest.'
Jeiros cocked his head and flashed a grimace. 'That's what princes get to hear. Kings get to hear that the white has been seen in the Worldspine. Without a rider this time. It burned exactly half a town to ash. Some of Valmeyan's riders went to investigate. Three of them didn't come back: nor did their dragons. By now it could be more.'
Jehal sniggered. 'No wonder the King of the Crags is in such a hurry to be home. And I suppose Zafir is positively brimming with enthusiasm to rally the realms and her riders to hunt your mysterious rogue.'
'This is not funny.'
'You keep them in dim servitude. Are you surprised they're so angry when they wake up?'
'The Order keeps us all alive, Prince Jehal. We'd be nothing to them but food otherwise.'
'If anyone did something like that to me and was then foolish enough to let me slip, I'm quite sure I would prefer something more lingering than simply eating them.' Are you listening, Vale Tassan?
The alchemist shook his head. 'There's a lot more. Where they come from, where they go when they die. Even
