Stephen Deas - The adamantine palace

Tiachas lunged at her, but he was feeble and slow, and Lady Nastria moved easily out of the way. The pair of riders caught him and held him down before he could roll off the table.

Nastria turned away. 'Let him go, and leave us. Please encourage Master Kithyr to hasten himself.'

The riders released Tiachas. They seemed uneasy and left slowly. Nastria watched them go.

'You know what disturbs them so, don't you? No, perhaps you don't. Master Kithyr is not a torturer but a blood-mage. So you will tell me what I want to know. And if you were hoping to die before I found out what I wanted, I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed there too.'

Nastria walked slowly around the cellar. Everything here had been laid in by Speaker Hyram's stewards for Queen Shezira and her knights. Hyram must have done the same for all the dragon-kings and -queens. How easy it would it be to poison an entire clan.

She put that thought aside. No speaker in two hundred years had murdered a guesting king or queen, and she doubted Hyram was about to start. She selected a bottle of wine, opened it and poured some for herself. Eventually she heard Kithyr padding across the stones towards her, but she didn't look round.

'Tiachas is a tool,' she said softly. 'I want to know who the craftsman was.'

It took the sorcerer an hour. There weren't even any screams, but then that was always the way with Master Kithyr. Always quiet. Throughout it all Nastria didn't look round. She stood statue-still, sipping at her wine, and by the end the bottle was empty. She didn't feel even slightly drunk. Instead she felt cold. Blood-magic. Another necessary evil. Like sell-swords.

When the blood-mage was done, she heard him padding softly back towards her.

'Well? Am I right? Was it Jehal?'

'No,' whispered the sorcerer. 'The Taiytakei.'

She thought about that for a while. The mage didn't move.

'He met one of them, who gave him something,' said Lady Nastria after a while. 'A flask. Filled with liquid silver. Like the last one. I still want to know what it is and what it's for.'

'Ask your alchemists. There are plenty of them. You know there's only one liquid that is of interest to me, and it is not silver in colour.' She could hear the sorcerer's disdain.

Nastria spat. 'Every time I do that I lose another alchemist. Huros, Bellepheros…' A second of silence passed between them.

'What should I do with the body?' asked the sorcerer. 'Shall I leave it here?'

'No, Master Kithyr. Make it go away. Where no one will ever find it.'

She sighed as the sorcerer went about his work. So much for parading her traitor in public. It simply wasn't the same when all you had was a collection of bits.

A Crack in the Stone

High above the city, perched on a tiny plateau of rock overlooking the top of the Diamond Cascade valley, Hyram and Queen Shezira stood side by side, watching the water rush by hundreds of yards beneath their feet.

'Queen Zafir. How is she?' Shezira stood inches from the edge. Hyram was even closer. The tips of his boots were actually sticking out into the void. One good push and both of them would be dead.

'Recovering well.'

'That's good to hear. So was she poisoned or wasn't she?'

'She's been a little unwell of late.'

Shezira cocked her head. 'A little? Hyram, when she collapsed everyone thought she was dead.'

'She choked. That's all.'

'Well then I'm sorry for you that she ruined what was left of your feast.'

Hyram laughed. 'We both know it was ruined already. When Queen Zafir collapsed, most of you couldn't get out of my hall fast enough. She was doing you all a favour. Giving you a polite excuse to leave.'

'Very kind of her, I'm sure.' Shezira swayed slightly as a gust of wind whistled along the valley. 'I would prefer to return to the pavilion now.'

Hyram didn't move. 'This always used to be one of my favourite places when I was younger. You can see right across the realms from up here.'

'I prefer to be on dragonback.'

'I know. But standing here is a reminder of how far the likes of you and I can fall. One missed step and we plunge to our dooms. It's been more than two years since I came here, you know. I couldn't stand like this when I was sick; I would have fallen.'

'Hyram, when we ride we wear harnesses to secure us to the backs of our dragons so we cannot fall, no matter what we do. That is what the dragons do for us. We can be as foolish as we like and our dragons will save us.'

'They didn't save Aliphera. Or Antros.'

'They won't save anyone who refuses to wear a harness.' Shezira turned away. 'If you stand there on the edge for long enough, Hyram, you will fall. Learn from your brother's mistake.'

Set back from the edge was the small pavilion built by Speaker Mehmit some two hundred years ago. The Purple Spur mountains were littered with little follies like this. Most had fallen into ruin, but this one had been popular with the speakers who'd followed him. From the bottom of the cliff it was invisible, and even from above it was almost impossible to spot unless you already knew it was there. It had become a little secret that the speakers had shared, passed down from one to the next. It was also an excellent place to spy on the Diamond Cascade, which had always been a popular place for dragon-lords and dragon-ladies who hungered to be away from the eyes of the palace court.

She went inside. There wasn't much to the pavilion, only a single airy room with open arches instead of windows. At the back were two wide alcoves, both generously piled with luxurious furs and soft cushions. It wasn't hard to guess what the speakers had used those for.

Has he brought Queen Zafir up here? Shezira pursed her lips. Of course he had.

She heard Hyram come in behind her and turned. 'It's good to see you in such good health, Hyram.'

'I can promise you, no one is more pleased than I am.'

'Are you going to marry her?'

That stopped him. For a moment Hyram froze. 'I think Queen Zafir stole the secret of the potions from the Viper to spite him. She knows how I feel about him.'

'Everyone knows how you feel about him.' Shezira cocked her head. 'But I'm not quite sure I understand it.'

'He's poisoning his own father.'

'Is he? Is he really?'

'I am certain of it.' Hyram's brow furrowed. 'Can't you feel it from him? The coldness? He's not human like the rest of it. He's vicious, callous, arrogant, self-obsessed-'

'You could be describing any of us.' She smiled slightly.

'You don't understand, do you?' Hyram shrugged. 'Ask Queen Zafir. She knows exactly what I mean. Maybe she'd be able to explain it better.'

Shezira's smile faded. 'Yes. So are you going to marry her?'

Hyram didn't smile. 'Yes, Shezira, I am.'

'And are you going to name her speaker, so you can carry on in the shadows behind her?'

This time he didn't say anything.

'Does she understand that she has to give up her throne, her crown? Does she have an heir ready to take on those burdens?'

That made him laugh. 'Do you?'

'We have a pact, Hyram. If you name Zafir instead of me, I will challenge her. And you will make a bitter enemy of me. Isn't Jehal enough?'

He looked at her. After a few seconds he turned away.

'I think I shall leave now.' Shezira strode past him back out into the open air. She signalled to the dragon-knights circling high overhead to take her back down to the palace. Almost at once a dragon tipped its wings and almost fell out of the air towards her, landing perfectly on the flat area of rock outside the pavilion. The rider threw down a rope ladder but didn't change position. Shezira frowned. Her riders knew better that that. Whoever it was should have moved aside so that she could take the reins.