'I like sapphires,' Nyadnar said. Her perfect features showed the first expression Zaranda had ever seen on them: puzzlement. 'Why would I not like sapphires?'
'Well, I'd figure an amethyst dragon would like amethysts, whereas a taste for sapphires would indicate- never mind.'
She walked back to where she had discreetly left the brazen head before approaching Chen.
'Here,' she said, tossing the artifact to the sorceress. Nyadnar caught the heavy object as if it were a child's rag ball. 'Item delivered. You can arrange payment at your convenience; 111 be around. For a while, anyway.'
'So you're Nyadnar,' the head said. 'I've heard a lot about you. And, I must say, now that I get a look at you-'
The sorceress gestured. The head went inert in mid-indelicacy. 'That's a good trick,' Zaranda said. 'Wish I'd known how to do that.'
'You will of course be paid,' the sorceress said. 'But you understand, my commissioning you to bring me the head was merely a pretext, all along, for-'
Zaranda shot a meaningful side-glance at Chen. 'Maybe we should save that?'
'Oh,' said the sorceress, who was also a dragon.
She held out her hands to the girl. 'Come with me, Daughter,' she said. 'Fly with me. You have proven yourself worthy, and more than worthy, to assume your legacy. Now I will teach you who you are, and what you are; I will awaken in you power unimaginable to lesser beings.'
Chenowyn stood. 'I know who I am, and what I am: Chenowyn, apprentice to Zaranda Star. I chose to awaken my own power, thank you very much. If I have more, I expect to work it out on my own. Now, goodbye.'
Nyadnar stared, aghast. 'But I'm your mother.'
Chenowyn frowned; for an instant her eyes gleamed red. 'A mother doesn't demand proof of her child!' she cried. She grabbed Zaranda's hand. 'There's only one person in the world entitled to call herself my mother: Zaranda. I'm staying with her. You do what you choose.'
She started walking toward the stairwell, tugging on Zaranda's hand. 'Can we go? I'm hungry.'
'Sure, honey. We can do that.'
Zaranda looked back at Nyadnar. The sorceress slowly raised her head. To Zaranda's amazement, a perfectly formed amethyst was sliding down one cheek.
'Yes,' Nyadnar said, 'even dragons cry. And our tears are gemstones.'
