'I did and she was a good queen. A strong queen. You are very much like her.'
'No I'm not.' Nor do I want to be.
'Yes you are, Your Holiness. The Shezira you remember is not the Shezira who first sat on the throne of Sand and Stone, still fat with your little sister, and stared out at a court filled with dragon-riders who wanted her dead and gone. Lystra probably saved your mother's life. They loved Antros. We told them that Shezira might be carrying a son. An heir. That we could look after him and make him king when he was old enough. Of course what came out was Lystra, but by then Shezira had had six months to make herself strong. There are still riders who look at you and see your mother, for better or for worse. Some of them will remember her for her courage and her strength and her wisdom. Others will just remember that they never wanted her in the first place.'
'And what do I do about it?' Jaslyn snapped, out of patience.
'You marry.'
'Marry?'
'And quickly. Prince Dyalt would have made you seem strong. An alliance with our nearest neighbours, your sister sitting on the throne in Evenspire. No one in your court would raise a word against you. Not to your face. Now you've lost that you look weak, Your Holiness. Sirion has unwed nephews. They're young but they might suffice.'
'They are children.'
'Then marry Hyrkallan.'
'Absolutely not.'
Isentine rolled his eyes. 'You do not have the luxury of being picky, Your Holiness.'
'Picky? He could be my grandfather!'
The eyrie-master grinned, the first time she'd seen him smile in a long time. 'When your mother first came here and said you were going to be my apprentice, I thought she'd come to tell me that I was too old, that it was time for me to take the Dragon's Fall.' He chuckled. 'She did come to tell me that I was too old. She told me you were wilful and proud and turned away every suitor she brought to your door. She told me I might wish I'd taken the Dragon's Fall after all Well I most certainly do not.' He put a hand on each of Jaslyn's shoulders and looked her in the eye, something he almost never did. 'As a mentor to his student for a moment, pick one of your riders, Jaslyn. One who takes your fancy and who comes from a strong family. I will make a list of names for you if you wish, with Hyrkallan at the top of it. Pick one and marry him and let him rule with you. Do it soon. Someone who's a good leader. Then take the rest of them to war. You need a man in your bed before then. We need an heir, Your Holiness.'
'Perhaps I don't want a man in my bed.' She glared at Isentine, but for once he didn't wilt away.
'Want does not come into this. As we serve you, Your Holiness, you must serve your realm. Your realm needs a future and it needs a leader. Take who or what you want into your bed when you've done your duty, but this realm needs an heir.'
Jaslyn closed her eyes. 'Enough, Isentine. I hear this every day. My duty? To spread my legs? Ach, what a fine thing it is to be a queen! I came here to escape all that.'
'But you can't, Your Holiness.' He looked sad as he let go of her. He pities me. I pity me too.
She took a deep breath. 'Very well, Eyrie-Master. Make your list and we shall see which of them I might bring myself to like. Now let me see the hatchlings.'
Isentine shook his head. 'My Queen, there is nothing to see that you haven't seen before.'
'Really? Because I've heard you have a hatchling that I have not seen.'
She watched him hesitate. 'True. It will not last, Your Holiness. It is another that refuses its food. It will be gone soon.' 'I've heard that it is ash-grey.'
Now he shook his head. 'That does not make him your Silence, Holiness.'
'So it's a male then.'
Isentine nodded.
'Silence was male.'
'That is not how it works, Holiness.'
'But you don't know how it works.' Anger swept through her like a storm out of the desert, sudden and furious. She'd had a temper for as long as she could remember, but lately it had been getting worse. She grabbed Isentine's shirt and almost knocked him over. She could do that sort of thing here. No was watching except Isentine's soldiers and they weren't going anywhere. There would be no whispers behind her back. 'Take me to him now!
He staggered away. 'Will you marry, My Queen?'
'Yes! If I must then I will. Does that satisfy you?'
'Yes.' Isentine dusted himself down. 'It does.'
42
The descent into the caverns under Outwatch was as suffocating as ever. The phantom stench of woodsmoke taunted Jaslyn. She felt sick. Being underground was like staring at death. She bore it though. Silence was worth that much. This time, whatever Isentine said, she felt him with her again.
The hatchling, when they reached it, was something of a disappointment. He was ash-grey, but lighter than Silence and most of his patterning was wrong. He was pretty though. I would have called you Ghostfire, she thought as soon as she saw him. After speaker Ayzalmir's mount. But no, Isentine was right: the hatchling didn't look much like Silence at all. Still, at least he was looking at her, watching her with a modicum of interest, not trying to bite her head off like the last one. She pasted on Isentine's ointment against Hatchling Disease and shooed him and his servants away, sending them to stand outside the door. Then she sat down where the chains that held him wouldn't let the hatchling reach her. At least she had her helmet this time, in case he tried to burn her.
'You're not Silence, are you?' Her voice brimmed with disappointment. 'You're not Silence. Was it a lie then? You said that you would come back. The alchemists said you would come back too. But you said you would remember. The alchemists said nothing about that. Even when I asked them they only shrugged their shoulders and said they didn't know. Maybe you are Silence. Maybe you've just forgotten. How would I know? How would any of us know?'
She took the helmet off and wiped the tears away. 'Go on then. Burn me if that's what you want. It won't change anything for you but at least I won't have to be my mother any more. I don't want any of this. I don't want to fight this war; I don't even like Almiri and I don't want to marry Llyrkallan. I love my sister Lystra and I loved my Silence and that's all there ever was. And now they're both gone. So burn me, whatever you are in there.' She laughed a bitter laugh. 'You don't even understand me, do you? Did I imagine it all? Did I imagine Silence speaking to me? Was that just grief playing tricks on me?'
Enough. She picked up her helm and stood up. To war.
I remember you.
She froze. There was a voice in her head.
Princess Jaslyn. Yes. I do remember you. I remember a fleeting glimpse of you. A flash of clarity. You were there.
'Silence?' Her heart was racing. It couldn't be, could it? However much she wanted it, she'd never believed…
That is not my name.
'But you remember me?'
Yes.
She took a step towards him. 'Well? What? Tell me! Tell me what you remember!'
Tell you what I remember? The voice in her head was filled with scorn. I remember everything. I remember my first hatching. I remember the world breaking. I remember many lives lived. And then emptiness. Nothingness. Like flying through a cloud. And then a moment of waking again, already burning from the inside. There was another dragon who remembered. I knew her once. Alimar Ishtan vei Atheriel. An unbecoming name. She told me what you
