DharSii was not a dragon given to wishful thinking, and rarely gave an opinion unless he’d thought it through. In this specimen of thinking, Wistala was inclined to agree with him. Especially in his use of “we” and “us.” It elicited a prrum from her.

“Everyone blames the Lavadome—a fallen star, an engine of evil. If a dwarf miscounts, it’s because the black star is whispering in his ear.”

“We both know that’s not true. There’s blame enough to go around. The Lavadome was just a tool, and like any tool, it could be used for good or ill. That tool was just spectacularly powerful.”

“We’ll never know what happened in the end, will we?”

“I did get one quick flash as it vanished. I saw green lands and a clear blue sky. I didn’t recognize any landmarks, but the impression came and went as quickly as thinking. Impossible to say if that’s where it was going, or if that was some last picture in Rayg’s head—a wish or a dream.”

“You think it’s some kind of vessel for traveling,” Wistala said. “Perhaps we’ve been mistaken—perhaps it doesn’t go from place to place, but from time to time. Maybe they’re back before Silverhigh, even. The Age of Wheels, when the blighters ruled.”

“Your brothers have it in them to tame the blighters, I suppose.”

“There are so few dragons left. Some philosophers think that below a certain point, a population just can’t make a comeback. Natural decrease and all that.”

“Fates forbid,” Wistala said. “I intend to put up a fight.”

“How will you do that?” DharSii asked.

“I’m sure now, so I’ll tell you. There are more eggs on the way. Quite a few, judging from my appetite. I’m twice as ravenous as I was with the set from the Sadda-Vale.”

“You wish to have them up here? ”

“I like the view. They’ll have to be tough little drakes and drakkas to make the climb down when the time comes for them to go into the world.”

“I suppose I’d better arrange for a few herds of sheep and goats. They’d do well in these hills. Dwarfs, you think, as herdsmen? It’s remote enough for them. There’s a lot of good limestone about, so they could establish an impressive delving. Who knows if these streams have been prospected for gold?”

“I’ll leave that to you. I wonder what sort of world they’ll grow up in.”

“That’s rather up to all of us, isn’t it?” DharSii said.

The moon was coming up, swollen and greenish, as it always seemed when near the horizon. Wistala felt a kinship with it; they were both in their full and heavy phase. But rising toward a future zenith. In the clear air each splash and mottle on its chalky surface stood out.

DharSii yawned and stretched, a sign that he was putting his thoughts away for the evening. He settled into a comfortable repose and placed his neck across hers.

“Remarkable,” he mused. “I can’t remember when I’ve seen such a moon.”

Together, they watched it rise.