Stephen Deas - The adamantine palace

Late in the afternoon the track led Semian over a high pass and down into a lush green valley. A village lay spread out beneath him nestled against a rushing river and surrounded by fields and cattle. The track followed the river, past the village and through a stretch of woodland. The sides of the valley grew steeper and closer together until he was flying between two sheer walls of rock hundreds of yards apart. The cliffs were pitted with fissures stained with streaks of black and dark green. Tiny trickles of frothing water bubbled over the cliff edge and dissolved into clouds of spray. In every possible crack stunted trees and bushes struggled to grow.

The cliffs came steadily closer together. Semian could feel Matanizkan's unease. She didn't like flying in such a confined place.

Abruptly, the cliffs closed completely. At the base where they joined, a loose collection of stone buildings hugged the rocks. Among them Semian could see the mouths of several caves, shafts of darkness disappearing into the earth. The river vanished into one of them; beside it was an eyrie, small but unmistakeable. There were no dragons.

Matanizkan pulled up. There was nowhere left for her to fly. The walls of rock spun wildly as she pitched over. For a moment, Semian was hanging upside down; and then she'd turned and was diving towards the valley floor. Semian gritted his teeth and gripped his harness. Somehow she found the space to spread her wings and levelled out, her claws skimming the ground.

'Down,' he told her, and she seemed almost grateful to land and catch her breath. He stayed in the saddle and walked her slowly back to the head of the valley, to the eyrie. By the time he got there, several alchemists were waiting for him. There were soldiers too, and several scorpions pointed in his direction. Cautiously he dismounted. He glanced up for Jostan and Princess Jaslyn but couldn't see either of them. Sandwiched between the walls of rock, he couldn't see much of the sky at all.

'Rider Semian in the service of Queen Shezira,' he called. The soldiers relaxed as he walked away from the dragon, and one of the alchemists approached.

'Keitos, senior alchemist.' He bowed. 'Apologies, Rider. We had no warning you were coming, and these are troubled times.'

Semian wasn't sure what Keitos meant by that but kept his silence. They walked away from Matanizkan. 'I'm riding escort to Princess Jaslyn. There is one other dragon-knight as well. Rider Jostan. They'll be arriving shortly.' He forced a grin. 'Interesting landing.'

Keitos nodded gravely. 'It was certainly an unusual approach. You haven't been here before, then. This is place is difficult for dragons. That's one of the reasons it became a stronghold for us in the old times, before our order mastered them.'

Back when you were blood-mages. But reminding the alchemist of his order's sordid origins would have been poor behaviour for a guest, so Semian held his tongue. They waited at the edge of the eyrie as Matanizkan was lured out of the way. Eventually, he saw Jaslyn and Jostan flying down the valley towards them. They'd clearly seen him almost crash into the cliff and even Jaslyn was coming in low and slow. They landed gracefully, one behind the other, and dismounted. Keitos left Semian and went to greet them. When the alchemist returned with Jostan and Princess Jaslyn, he looked grim. Jaslyn was telling him what they'd passed on their way.

'Everyone was dead,' she was saying, 'and it was clearly a dragon attack.' She looked at Semian. 'Would you not agree?'

Semian nodded. Keitos bowed his head. 'And the wagons, Your Highness?'

'Everything was destroyed. You know, I imagine, that several of my mother's knights were attacked some months ago.'

'We are aware, Your Highness. One of your dragons was never found.'

'A perfect white. We're still searching for her.'

Keitos nodded vigorously. He led them into a crumbling stone longhouse. Semian noticed that the roof leaked. Everything here was damp.

'We don't have much by way of lodgings, Your Highness. There are a few rooms but…'

Jaslyn waved him away. 'We won't be staying long, Master Keitos. I have something of a mystery to show you. When you can tell me what it is, we'll be on our way. I hope to leave at first light tomorrow.'

'A mystery?' Keitos paused and his eyes lit up. 'How unusual. I'm sure Your Highness will be most well received. Forgive me, Your Highness, but since many of our elder masters are now guests of the speaker for Queen Shezira's accession, might I ask why you came here? I'm sure their knowledge of potions would have sufficed.'

'It's not a potion, Master Keitos. It is something more like liquid metal.'

Keitos bowed. 'We shall do our best, Your Highness.'

'Good. And you will do it today, and then I will leave in the morning with all the proof I need to destroy Prince Jehal forever.'

For the first time since they'd left the palace Semian saw something like a smile flicker across Princess Jaslyn's face.

The Dragon-Priests

Hyram stood at the window of the Tower of Air. Over on the Tower of Dusk he could see two figures on the battlements and nothing more. Then Zafir wrapped the black strip of silk around his eyes and he was there, clinging to the stonework only a few feet from Jehal. He couldn't see much, until the end when Jehal leaned out and stared over at the City of Dragons. But that didn't matter. He heard it all. Every word. Even after Jehal had gone inside and there was nothing to see except the stars in the sky and nothing to hear but the wind, he stood there, silent and motionless. He felt as if his heart had been turned to stone. Very slowly he took off the silk.

'She's going to make the Viper speaker after her,' he said. He still didn't quite believe his own ears. Shezira was almost a part of his family. It was unthinkable that she'd do such a thing, and yet he'd seen it. He'd heard it.

'I told you she would plot against you.' Zafir's soft hands took his.

'But the Viper. How can she?' He shook his head in disbelief.

Zafir stood close beside him, close enough that he could feel her heat. She was wearing a thin silken shift that clung to her in the breeze from the window. 'Your family gave her their word that she would follow them. She's a proud and stubborn queen.' Zafir shook her head. 'And look at how much she's prepared to give him. She almost makes him king of her own realm while he waits.'

'I would have had one of her daughters succeed you as speaker. She herself, if she was still sound of body and mind.' Hyram wrung his hands. 'Why? Why did she have to betray me like this? With the Viper…'

'It doesn't matter, my lover. Whatever you decide, I will be there for you, and surely you can rely on your own clan. What does Shezira have? King Valgar and King Tyan?' She snorted. 'Not enough.'

'Jehal will bring Silvallan and Narghon with him.' He shook his head. If Zafir hadn't been holding him, he would have been pacing back and forth. He should have thought of this. Stupid to let Shezira see what was coming, and now he was going to pay for it.

'No.' Zafir squeezed his shoulders and whispered in his ear. 'I can promise you at least one, if not both.'

'How?' Still, no decision was made. He could always name Shezira, as he'd first intended. He could still marry Zafir and live out his years as a king. Would that be so bad?

'Trust me, Speaker Hyram.' Zafir slipped the black silk out of his hands. 'I need to bring back my little spy.' She wrapped the silk around her eyes and moved to stand right in front of him, facing the window, leaning very slightly into him. 'Hold me,' she breathed. 'I lose myself sometimes when I do this. Don't let me fall.'

'Yes, of course.' One hard push and she'd fall out of the open window. The ground was a hundred feet below. She'd be smashed to pieces. Just like Aliphera.