The dragon said something to the man, but it didn’t take long. The Copper suspected much of the wordplay had been lost. He hoped the meaning remained.

The man showed his teeth and raised his hand to his chin. He gave a twist of his hand, as though fixing his faceplate.

“We may return,” the dragon said.

“Yes, I think that was it,” Halaflora added.

The man climbed back up onto the bronze and took up the reins. He prodded the bronze with his pointy boots, and the hag-ridden dragon flapped up into the clean blue sky.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Nilrasha said, looking up. “The creature’s riding him like a horse.”

“If that’s the great alliance, I think we should have no part of it,” Halaflora said. “I’d sooner trust a dwarf.”

That night the three of them talked the matter over across the feasting floor.

Nilrasha tore into her meal of kern-fattened pig, tearing off lusty bits and swallowing them, while Halaflora ate in her usual dainty style due to her trouble swallowing.

They presented a pretty contrast, the Copper thought. But he couldn’t consider aesthetics.

“I think we’ll have to tell Tyr SiDrakkon. This is a matter for him.”

No one objected to the compound name, a serious insult had they been back at the Rock. At least in that respect, all three were alike.

“I’m going to send word through the bats. I’m afraid it will get confused, so I’ll follow to answer questions,” the Copper said.

“What if the rider comes back? Shouldn’t you be here?” Nilrasha asked.

“I’m not even sure I’m the Upholder. The FeLissaraths have moved to their lodge cave, but they still attend all the Anaean ceremonies, preside over them, in fact.”

“I would go for you, your honor. But I cannot leave my post,” Nilrasha said.

“You could leave it in my hands,” Halaflora said. “I took the Firemaiden oath. I never did anything with the other maidens, but does that make the oath less valid?”

The Copper felt trapped between duty and need.

“No. I may need to argue, or even challenge. I’ll beg the FeLissaraths to return to the palace long enough for me to return to the Lavadome. I can break tradition and fly to one of the griffaran cuts in the mountainside. This is important enough. I can make the journey at night and rest in the day and be there in two days.”

“Will your wing hold up? You’ll be far from help if that man’s contraption fails,” Halaflora said.

“If the joint fails after all this testing and trial, Rayg will wish I’d been on the other side of the world.”

“Your blood certainly was up tonight,” Halaflora said, as they settled into their sleeping chamber. His mate had turned several of the stone globes into rather comfortable backrests, thanks to cushions stuffed with bird feathers. “I’ve never seen you like this. Is this what war is like?”

“No. Nothing like this, and Spirits keep it that way.”

“What way?”

“Far from here.”

“You smell hot. I thought certainly you’d take your jade up tonight.”

The world froze for a moment. “You thought what?”

Rhea finished cleaning out her mistress’s ears and scurried out of the room. Had the girl put on weight? Ten other equally trivial thoughts washed through his head, so eager was he to avoid the consequences of thinking about what his mate had just said.

“I’m sorry. Am I being too direct? All those years with SiMevolant as a brother. Some time at night to relax and refresh, then.”

“She’s a Firemaid. She swore an oath. I swore an oath to you, for that matter. She’s not…not my lover.”

“Oh, RuGaard. My lord, I won’t be hurt by the truth. I married a dragon, not some perfumed flower. There’s nothing wrong with a jade for a dragon in your…in your situation. Because of my health.”

“Have you gone mad?” He didn’t mean it, but the words came out. Anything to stop her from going on.

“Our mating wasn’t a real mating, after all. As much as it meant to me.” She looked down.

“I had no idea you felt that way,” he said at last. They each studied opposite corners of the room for a moment. What came out next was inspired by kindness, rather than love, but he meant every word of it. “Darling. Let’s be mated again, then. Or mated for the first time. Whatever you call it. In tight spots, during wars and so forth, dragons have been known to mate underground. It’s tactics, you know. Just a matter of position.”

She looked up at him, blushing.

“Can we? Really? Would it be…proper?”

“Proper? Probably not. But it’ll be exciting.”

The sun rose in front of the mountains to the west and lit the night-curtains with its orange glow.

West? In front of the mountains?

The Copper’s sluggish brain took its time apprehending the wrongness of the lighting. He opened another eye and righted himself, rose, and put his head out of the curtains.

Flames dotted the plateau, but they were nothing compared to the conflagration below the temple. The city of the kern kings was a solid mass of fire.

He saw dragonwings silhouetted against the flames, and then another set, and another, flying in a line.

“What is it, my lord?” his mate said.

He pushed the curtains open with his tail. “War.”

“RuGaard.” He heard a dragon voice from above, soft yet insistent.

With a single soft wing-beat, FeLissarath alighted on the top of the temple, keeping to the shadows. His mate followed.

“We have terrible news,” FeLissarath said.

“A moment.” He turned to Halaflora. “Get the thralls and such meats as can be easily carried. Go to the Firemaid chamber. If they come into the palace, bring the roof down on top of the entrance and head down into the Lower World. Have Nilrasha fight and delay them; you just run. Leave the thralls behind if you must, but find the Drakwatch and tell them Anaea’s been attacked by man-ridden dragons.”

“I understand. Thank you for not treating me like…like…”

“I know. They may not come here. They may just be after gold.” He wished he could summon a prrum, and instead rubbed his snout on hers. “Go.”

As she left by the inner exit he climbed out on his balcony and up. Together the three dragons watched the flames spread.

“Less than a score, do you think, my love?” FeLissarath’s mate said.

“They’re causing confusion,” the Copper said, watching a trio of dragons land. “Burning the city but landing at the palaces. I think they’re after gold.”

FeLissarath spoke: “They’re man-ridden, RuGaard. We had a brush with one, but we lost him by going to ground by the river.”

“I know.”

“RuGaard, the Tyr must be told of this, the faster the better. Thank the Air Spirit for that clever thrall. Take the skyway to the plateau—”

“Yes, Upholder, I know.”

“After this night you’ll be Upholder, I fear.”

“What do you mean?”

His mate spoke: “We need a prisoner or two. Find out who they are and where they came from.” She stared into his eyes.

“The most dangerous game of all, my love? We must be careful. They’ll be tougher than wild griffaran.” He turned back to the Copper. “You must make the best speed you can to the Imperial Resort and come back with everything the Tyr can send. He should come himself, at that.”

“Oh, for DharSii’s old aerial host at this hour,” she said.

“We’ll try from above, dear. Don’t frame against the moon—”

“Am I a wet-wing?”

The Copper only half listened to them talk. He watched another trio of dragons come in, landing on a triangular temple top. It was hard to see at this distance, but it seemed figures dropped off the dragons as soon as they landed. The dragons took off again almost immediately.

“This is for my benefit as well,” FeLissarath said. “We may get lucky and snatch one out of the saddle. In case of trouble, make for the big smoke column and climb. Whatever happens, we shouldn’t lead them back here. If we’re separated, we’ll go to the high pass lookout and meet there. RuGaard, are you still here?”

The Copper extended his wings. “Back in three days if I can. Four days at most. More means I’m dead.”

“If you don’t see us again, lad, remember us every time you take a wild bighorn,” FeLissarath’s mate said.

The Copper launched himself into the night.

It took time to gain altitude, and he did so on the dark side of the mountain backing up the temple. Curse the bright moon tonight!

He saw the FeLissaraths take off from their palace and wheel around north to keep the attacking dragons on the moon side. He saw them gain altitude.

Three shapes dropped out of the sky upon them, falling like hawks.

The FeLissaraths closed up on each other, with the male slipping a little below the female, guarding his mate’s vulnerable belly.