The Door into Sunset by Diane Duane Page A

mindmate looked at each other.
    “I told you, mdaha . You’re going to get that response everywhere we go. And about time.”
    “So you think, indeed. But will llhw’Hreiha, the DragonChief, think so? What involves one Dragon involves us all.”
    “Then it’s already too late,” Segnbora said. “We’re going to have to confront the Hreiha as soon as we can and get her approval.”
    “Neither will her approval be as easy to come by as a king’s,” Hasai said. “She speaks for our whole kind: in her person she lives all our lives, all our ‘deaths’. Her decisions affect not only what we will be but what we have been—the sdahaih and mdahaih alike, what you call the ‘living’ and the ‘dead’. She may feel she needs time to make the decision. A hundred circlings of the sun or more, the last decision so major took. Then there were many bouts of nn’s’raihle to confirm it, and the Master-Choice at the end of the process....”
    “That would put it into next year,” Freelorn said. “We can’t—”
    “Lorn, that would put it into the next century.” Segnbora was smiling, but the look was rueful. “We’ll just have to try to rush things a bit. And if she doesn’t approve....”
    “One does not go against the lhhw’Hreiha. ”
    “One does if she’s about to get us all killed, mdaha ....”
    The room was still for a while, as silver eyes and hazel ones rested in each other, considering. “You are my sdaha , my living self,” Hasai said. “But life is intemperate; I must keep you from reckless choices.” The room grew full of what he meant—the presence of a terrible weight of years, of other Dracon souls and lives, now inextricably part of Segnbora, and intent on keeping her self and their selves in the world.
    Segnbora nodded slowly. “Yes, you must. But I have to keep you from refusing to make any choice at all. Outliving the problem is no solution of it.” And she gazed at the Dragon and would not look away. The hair rose on Lorn’s neck as mortality, fierce and frail, and immortality, weighty and blunt as stone, leaned together and strove in the suddenly blistering air. Then the heat was gone, and there was unity; but it was troubled.
    “You are my sdaha , dei’sithessch,” Hasai said. Segnbora looked down. “We shall try occasions with the DragonChief. We shall lose this battle, and perhaps save your kind and mine. But I’m of you, sdaha .”
    Segnbora stared at the table with an expression abstracted and afraid; but she still wore a curl of smile. “What do you see?” Herewiss said, quiet-voiced.
    Segnbora’s eyes came back to the present. She looked up. “Nothing clear,” she said. “I’m nearsighted, yet.... Sticks. Stones.” She shook her head. “Loss. Something found, and lost again....”
    Eftgan glanced at him. “So that settles them,” she said. “Herewiss goes to Arlen with Sunspark. Segnbora goes in company too, though a bit more quietly. I go with an army and arrive on the first of Autumn; and there we all join forces, and take what adventure our Lady sends us. How are you going, Lorn?”
    He swallowed. “Alone. I’ve been told. I have to go to Arlen to find my Initiation... and Hergótha and the Stave as well, I hope. If I survive, I’ll meet you afterwards. There’s no other way.”
    No one said anything immediately. There was something about the silence that suggested some of them thought even the battle might not be a final solution. Lorn breathed out, and went on. “I’ll start somewhere southwards, and work north. They won’t be expecting that, either; they’ll expect me to rush into things headlong, as usual, the straight way along the Kings’ Road. Or else to try the midland route near Osta, as I did the last time.”
    “You’re going to have to disguise yourself,” Eftgan said.
    “I know.” He smiled slightly. “This place seems to be crawling with Rodmistresses and people with Fire. I should think you could come up with