Stephen Deas - The King of the Crags

'This is as close as I can get to them,' she sighed. 'My dragons.

Just because she's my big sister, why does she think she can get away with this?'

Isentine had a faraway look in his eyes. 'Your Highness, this is the first time I've been away from Outwatch in five years. Should I be honest with you?'

'Always. Someone has to be.' They walked together among the buildings of the inner eyrie. Jaslyn knew they wouldn't be allowed out onto the landing fields, that Almiri's soldiers had orders to stop her. They were watching her now, a company of them, never too far away.

'I thought, when you asked me to fly with you, that I would never see Outwatch again. I thought that we would fly to the Adamantine Palace and that we would both die on the speaker's command. I thought you were foolish and reckless. I thought you should have come here to see your sister. That you should have come to plan a war together.'

Jaslyn growled: 'If that's what you thought then why didn't you say anything?' Even here within the outer walls of the Palace of Paths and its eyrie, most of the buildings were guarded. A few of them carried the sign of the alchemists on the doors. Somewhere not far away was the hatchery; the guards were unlikely to let her near Almiri's precious eggs though. I might smash a few in my impatience to be away.

Isentine ignored her. 'That's what Queen Almiri really wants and you know it. You do yourself no favours spurning her and sulking out here, Your Highness.'

'I'm not her little sister any more, Eyrie-Master. I have almost three times her dragons at my beck and call.'

'You should listen to Hyrkallan now that he's back…' Isentine kept on talking, but Jaslyn suddenly wasn't listening any more. Or rather she wasn't listening to him. She was listening to someone else. Or something else. A voice, inside her head, so faint she could barely even hear it, and yet so loud it filled the world.

Who are you?

She froze. Two and a half months had passed since she'd last heard that voice in her head. The same voice. Except then it had come from a dragon half dead from poison, who'd breathed its last that same day.

A chill ran through her, down her spine and right to her toes, freezing them to the spot. Her jaw fell open. Her heart began to race.

'Silence?'

I remember you. A venom came with the thoughts, a snarling anger.

Isentine was looking at her, concern on his face.

We will brea\free of you. One day. One day. I told you that. The thought seemed to fade into the distance. She could almost feel something being wrenched out of her. Whatever it was, her heart went with it.

'Where are you? Silence!'

'Your Highness?' Isentine had an unforgivable hand on her shoulder. 'Your Highness!'

She closed her eyes. All she wanted now was to fall to her knees and weep. With a heave and a shudder, she shook Isentine off and looked around. At least a dozen of Almiri's soldiers and servants were watching them.

'You forget yourself, old man.' She slapped him. Mother would have taken your hand and cut it off, even though you were her dearest friend. That's why I'm not ready to be her. I'm not ready to be anything. All I want is Silence. I want my dragon back. That's all.

Isentine staggered away, bowing as best he could, apologising and yet still asking whether anything was wrong. Jaslyn didn't know how to answer. The voice in her head had seemed more real than anything, a pinpoint brilliance of colour in a world of hazy greys. Now she wasn't sure. Did I imagine it? I can't ask if anyone heard a voice because there was no voice to be heard. She took a deep breath and clutched at her head.

'Your Highness! Please!'

'I heard a voice, Isentine.' Her face went very hard as she looked at him, willing him to simply listen, to be silent and to believe her. 'I heard a dragon. It spoke to me in my thoughts. It was Silence. He remembered me, Eyrie-Master. He remembered everything. He remembered me'

Isentine didn't say anything. Jaslyn could see the disbelief in his eyes, the refusal to even try to understand, but he didn't speak, didn't even shake his head. He things I'm mad. Maybe I am. Mad with grief, mad with loss, but I know what I heard.

'Your Highness,' he said at last, 'if he is here, where is he?'

Jaslyn shrugged. 'Close, I would think. I don't know. But I have to find him. I have to know that it's true, that they come back and they remember!'

'Then let us find him. He was yours after all, and if Her Holiness Queen Almiri has a dragon in her eyrie of the colours of smoke and ash and coal, she will not keep it secret for long.' He didn't believe her. He'd never believed her. He'd spent forty years and more working with dragons. They'd never spoken to him in his head; they'd never died and been reborn and remembered anything. As far as Isentine was concerned, they'd never done anything except hatch, eat, breed and eventually die like any other animal. Yes, when one died, another was born and their numbers were always the same, but to Isentine that didn't mean anything. They were still animals. As long as they had their potions.

None of that mattered. If he helped her, then she would show him and he would have no choice but to believe her. She stamped her foot and glared at the soldiers. 'They won't let us roam around among my sister's dragons.'

'No, Your Highness.' Isentine shook his head sadly. 'Unless… Your Highness, I've badgered and cajoled Queen Almiri's eyrie-master and been steadfastly refused. The order comes from the queen herself. But if you promised you would join Almiri in her plans for war…'

'I do not want a war.' Then Jaslyn almost smiled. She wagged a finger at her eyrie-master. 'I see. You would have me join her council but not her war.' She walked quickly now, forcing Isentine to hobble along as best he could in her wake. 'Very well. She can have me at her table, but I will not throw my dragons into some foolishness.' She took a turn, out of impulse, down a narrow alley between two low stone storehouses with long windowless walls.

'Hey! Your Highness! Stop!' The voice came from behind her. It sounded like one of Almiri's soldiers, so Jaslyn ignored it. 'By the command of the queen, you are not permitted to enter…'

She reached the end of the alley. Several soldiers were in pursuit, but the passage was narrow, the soldiers were armed and a armoured, and Isentine was a frail old man, hobbling slowly and in the way. 'Move aside, sir!'

'I am Queen Shezira's eyrie-master, you insolent fellow! And I'm going as fast as I can.'

Jaslyn watched them for a second, smiled, and walked briskly into the eyrie. Not because she particularly wanted to but simply because she could. She wouldn't get very far. There would be other soldiers to get in her way. She wasn't sure what they would do if she refused to stop, if she physically tried to push them out of the way. They surely wouldn't dare to lay a hand on her, not even on the queen's order.

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.