James Maxey - Dragonforge

"I meant we've found no signs that any of the sun-dragons were harmed," Shandrazel said.

"The guards died from puncture wounds crusted with black poison," said Androkom.

"The sisters attacked again?" Pet asked. "Why didn't anyone hear them? They were sort of loud last time."

"No one heard anything," said Shandrazel. "We still have more questions than answers."

"It doesn't make sense," said Pet. "I mean, yes, they could sneak in during the night and kill some guards. But how could they kill a dozen sun-dragons without making a sound? What could they have done with the bodies? I don't see how the Sisters of the Serpent could be responsible for this. Maybe the sun-dragons learned that Blasphet had assassins in the palace once more and fled?"

Charkon, the boss of Dragon Forge, cleared his throat.

"Sire," the elderly dragon said. "Blasphet remains on the loose and you are unable to protect even your own castle. I regretfully must withdraw from these talks. My duty to my brethren at the forge must be my first concern. When you've established security in your kingdom, I'll come back."

"Charkon, you're the wisest of earth-dragons," said Shandrazel. "If Blasphet is planning some master scheme, I would find your presence at my side most helpful. Since Kanst died, my armies have been without a field commander. I'd like to offer you this position."

"Sire?" Charkon said, his one eye opening wide. "No earth-dragon has ever held such rank. It is the birthright of sun-dragons to fill such roles."

"Those are the old ways, Charkon. From this day forward, positions will be filled not by birthright, but by merit. No one can surpass you in experience and judgment, noble Charkon. You've fought in countless battles, and proven yourself a worthy leader as boss of the forge. I can think of no better candidate."

Charkon raised a thick paw to scratch at a patch of flaky flesh just behind the scar-tumor where his eye had once been. He looked lost in thought.

"It will be my honor," said Charkon. "I'll start by increasing security here in the palace. You've allowed the gates to be too open. Humans are coming to and fro with impunity."

"Humans who were invited to these talks" said Pet, bothered by Charkon's tone. "However Blasphet's assassins are getting in, I don't think they're walking through the front door. Beefing up security at the gates is pointless."

"You would say that… human." Charkon stepped close to Pet, his eye narrowed into a thin slit. "I'm not making accusations. But the ease with which the sisters pass suggests that they must have inside help."

"And you're saying that I-"

"I'm saying that your loyalties lie with humans, and the Sisters of the Serpent are human."

"Charkon," said Shandrazel. "Your theories have been noted. Your desire to improve security is reasonable. Do what you must; however, the free movement of the human diplomats must be allowed. I trust you'll find an appropriate solution."

Charkon punched his gauntleted fist to his steel breast plate with a loud clang. "At once, sire," he said before marching from the room. The contingent of armored dragons who traveled with him followed. Once in the hall, Charkon began to bark out commands.

Shandrazel sighed wearily. He was still a young dragon, no older than Pet, but recent events were taking their toll. The skin around his eyes was puffy, as if he hadn't been sleeping well. He slouched on his golden cushion, and the feather-scales of his wings weren't groomed as well as they should be. He sounded on the verge of despair as he said, "My father kept Blasphet imprisoned for over a decade. Why am I so powerless to halt his schemes?"

Pet searched for the words to console the sun-dragon. "It was your father who set Blasphet loose, and then gave him an army of construction workers to build the Free City. Blasphet could have a constructed a score of secret entrances with the resources at his command."

"Perhaps," said Shandrazel. "Yet I could have ended his threat. I could have ordered his execution."

"Why didn't you?" Pet asked.

"I don't believe that death should be used as punishment," said Shandrazel. "I know of innocent dragons accused of false crimes and slain by my father for political gain. I wanted to break with the past, and put an end to executions."

"That's a noble goal," said Pet. "But perhaps, for Blasphet, you can make an exception."

"Perhaps not just for Blasphet," said Shandrazel. "The events of the past few days have opened my eyes. I believed that concepts such as equality and freedom would appeal to the reason of any thinking creature. I held, in my heart, that these truths were self-evident. Obviously, I was deluded. The world has been controlled by force for too long. Rule by brute strength didn't start with my father, and cannot end with him, I fear."

"What are you saying?"

"It's time for me to stop wishing that peace and justice will spontaneously arise. If I'm to be the king who brings an end to kings, it seems I must first embrace the role of king." Shandrazel looked toward the tapestry that depicted Albekizan crushing the human rebellion at Conyers. "I must establish safety and security by capturing Blasphet. I must win back the respect of my fellow sun-dragons by showing that I'm still in control of the greatest army this world has known. And, if I wish to have valkyries present to discuss the future of this Commonwealth, it seems I must drag them here in chains."

"Don't overreact," said Pet. "You've suffered setbacks, yes, but-"

Before Pet could finish his sentence, an earth-dragon guard approached. He was holding a wooden bucket, the interior nearly glowing with the remnants of a lemon-yellow paste.

"Sire, we've found several of these buckets. I thought you'd want to see one."

Androkom took the bucket, examining the contents. He lowered his snout inside and sniffed. "Honey and citrus oils," he said. "And… an undertone of jimsonweed."

"Jimsonweed?" Pet asked.

"There's a whole chapter devoted to it in Dacorn's treatise on botany," Androkom explained. "When ripe, it produces a spiky seedpod filled with pink berries. The juice has hallucinogenic properties. There's only a two or three day window of ripeness when it is effective as a drug, however. If ingested at the wrong stage, it's poisonous."

The earth-dragon guard had something further to say. "Sire, I've also been told that one of the guards on the roof saw two sun-dragons flying away in the night. They didn't appear injured. The only thing that struck the guard as odd was that it looked like they were being ridden."

"Ridden?" asked Androkom.

"By humans," the guard said. "Females, he thinks."

"The Sisters of the Serpent, no doubt," said Androkom.

"What evil is Blasphet planning now?" Shandrazel said, rising from his cushion and stalking to a long sheet of parchment hung on the wall. The parchment bore a map of existing political boundaries in the kingdom. Various cities and landmarks were sketched upon the sheet with dark charcoal. Shandrazel tore the map down and rolled it up roughly. He turned to Androkom and said, "Follow me."

"Where are you going?" Pet asked.

"This is none of you your concern," Shandrazel snapped. His eyes were narrowed in anger as he moved toward the hallway. Androkom gave a nod toward the earth-dragon guards. As Pet attempted to follow, the guards rushed forward, blocking his path.

Pet backed away, wondering what to do next. He cast a glance to the other humans in the room. Kamon, the elderly prophet from the mountains, approached. "What's happening?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"I don't know," Pet said. "Apparently Blasphet has done something to the sun-dragon representatives, and now Shandrazel is mad at us."

Kamon took Pet by the arm and led him further from the earth-dragon guards. "Do you think he's heard of Ragnar's exploits?"