hag-riders—who took over the Lavadome in your predecessor’s reign, were trained there? It is an old outpost of the Wizard of the Isle of Ice. It’s the last stronghold of the Dragonriders.”
“If it’s the last, they may welcome another dragon about the place. Are there any other objections?” the Copper asked.
The dragons were all silent. “Then I think I will visit this dragon tower.”
He spent a week in practice flights. First, he stayed over the water. The rising heat from the lake helped him with air currents. After two days of that, and heartier eating each night, he felt well enough to circle the interior of the Sadda-Vale.
He kept his eyes scanning for Wistala. He thought he smelled her at the southern end on the air, but the trail led nowhere.
Once, at night, he tried following DharSii, but the striped dragon flew hard and well, faster than he could fly with his patched-together and mostly frozen joint. DharSii flew into the thick night mists and disappeared.
There was some mystery here. DharSii would never harm Wistala—of that he was certain—nor would he betray the other dragons of the Sadda-Vale. So it wasn’t treachery.
The Copper, with his years in the Lavadome, was used to considering any phenomenon as a threat. Were they keeping some secret from Scabia? Perhaps Wistala was ready for another clutch of eggs and they were hiding her from Scabia. But why wouldn’t she welcome more hatchlings? Now that her daughter had her eggs . . . No, it could not be that. Though Wistala was a dragonelle of strange ideas. Perhaps she’d want her hatchlings to be free of Scabia’s ideas.
What were they hiding, and from whom?
He felt his body waking to the activity and his mind—he was feeling again. Even the pain of his exile, from the knowledge that he’d sworn to be permanently separated from the one of his kind who’d always loved him without reserve, could be felt and reckoned with. Pain taught. Pain strengthened.
It was during one of his training flights—he fought his way to the highest altitude he could stand, where it was much easier to ride the wind—that he at last marked Wistala returning to Scabia’s hall.
He dipped his wings and descended side-to-side in a series of sweeping motions. He didn’t have the flexibility or the trust in the wing joint to do a true dive.
On his last swoop he passed just above and behind Wistala. His shadow flicked across her back. She turned and dove, closing her vulnerable wings and lashed up with her tail. It caught him across the neck, and he saw some of his loose scale fall glittering in the sun.
Then, evidently recognizing him, she opened her wings again and circled around behind. With three powerful beats—Wistala was one of the strongest females he’d ever known—she was beside him.
“Brother,” she called. “I’m so sorry!”
“Let’s land, by the bathing rocks there.” He gestured with his good sii .
They alighted and Wistala brought her head close to his.
“Just a little weak scale is all. You’re hardly bleeding.”
“Your tail felt like a thunderbolt. I’m glad my neck isn’t broken.”
“I said I was sorry. I’m not used to you flying. DharSii told me he’d worked on your joint.”
“Impolite of me to come down on you from behind. I should have called, but my wind isn’t what it was. I’m out of condition.”
“An aerial chase is a good way to get yourself back in training, I suppose. You should just warn the chasee. I thought I was in for a fight and I reacted by instinct.”
“If it were an aerial combat, I wouldn’t last long,” the Copper said. “My fire isn’t reliable, I can only make wide turns and can’t dive at all, and I’m slow.”
“All the more reason to remain safely here. Your scale is dreadful, you know. You should improve your diet and wait a season.”
“If it is so safe here, why did you startle so?”
She shifted her saa back and forth and her tail tucked down.
“If it’s the last, they may welcome another dragon about the place. Are there any other objections?” the Copper asked.
The dragons were all silent. “Then I think I will visit this dragon tower.”
He spent a week in practice flights. First, he stayed over the water. The rising heat from the lake helped him with air currents. After two days of that, and heartier eating each night, he felt well enough to circle the interior of the Sadda-Vale.
He kept his eyes scanning for Wistala. He thought he smelled her at the southern end on the air, but the trail led nowhere.
Once, at night, he tried following DharSii, but the striped dragon flew hard and well, faster than he could fly with his patched-together and mostly frozen joint. DharSii flew into the thick night mists and disappeared.
There was some mystery here. DharSii would never harm Wistala—of that he was certain—nor would he betray the other dragons of the Sadda-Vale. So it wasn’t treachery.
The Copper, with his years in the Lavadome, was used to considering any phenomenon as a threat. Were they keeping some secret from Scabia? Perhaps Wistala was ready for another clutch of eggs and they were hiding her from Scabia. But why wouldn’t she welcome more hatchlings? Now that her daughter had her eggs . . . No, it could not be that. Though Wistala was a dragonelle of strange ideas. Perhaps she’d want her hatchlings to be free of Scabia’s ideas.
What were they hiding, and from whom?
He felt his body waking to the activity and his mind—he was feeling again. Even the pain of his exile, from the knowledge that he’d sworn to be permanently separated from the one of his kind who’d always loved him without reserve, could be felt and reckoned with. Pain taught. Pain strengthened.
It was during one of his training flights—he fought his way to the highest altitude he could stand, where it was much easier to ride the wind—that he at last marked Wistala returning to Scabia’s hall.
He dipped his wings and descended side-to-side in a series of sweeping motions. He didn’t have the flexibility or the trust in the wing joint to do a true dive.
On his last swoop he passed just above and behind Wistala. His shadow flicked across her back. She turned and dove, closing her vulnerable wings and lashed up with her tail. It caught him across the neck, and he saw some of his loose scale fall glittering in the sun.
Then, evidently recognizing him, she opened her wings again and circled around behind. With three powerful beats—Wistala was one of the strongest females he’d ever known—she was beside him.
“Brother,” she called. “I’m so sorry!”
“Let’s land, by the bathing rocks there.” He gestured with his good sii .
They alighted and Wistala brought her head close to his.
“Just a little weak scale is all. You’re hardly bleeding.”
“Your tail felt like a thunderbolt. I’m glad my neck isn’t broken.”
“I said I was sorry. I’m not used to you flying. DharSii told me he’d worked on your joint.”
“Impolite of me to come down on you from behind. I should have called, but my wind isn’t what it was. I’m out of condition.”
“An aerial chase is a good way to get yourself back in training, I suppose. You should just warn the chasee. I thought I was in for a fight and I reacted by instinct.”
“If it were an aerial combat, I wouldn’t last long,” the Copper said. “My fire isn’t reliable, I can only make wide turns and can’t dive at all, and I’m slow.”
“All the more reason to remain safely here. Your scale is dreadful, you know. You should improve your diet and wait a season.”
“If it is so safe here, why did you startle so?”
She shifted her saa back and forth and her tail tucked down.
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