[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

private for a few minutes?
 Certainly. No one goes into the study. She opened a door.  I ll wait here for you.
 Thanks, May. I hurried down the dark, narrow passage that led to the tiny back garden, pausing just
outside the door to smile at Brom as he squatted on his heels, one hand gesturing as he chatted, the
other stroking the head of what must have been the stunned bird. Maata was next to him, nodding her
head as he expounded some point or other, looking up with a genuine smile as she noticed me.
 Sullivan! Maata found a bird that hit the window, but it s not dead. She says it s a wren, but it needs
a few minutes before it can fly again. Are we going right away, or can I watch the bird?
 We have a few minutes. Good afternoon, Maata. How s your mother?
She looked startled for a moment, then answered politely,  Well, thank you. Have you . . . er . . . met
her?
 In a manner of speaking. Five minutes, OK, Brom?
 OK. His head bent over the bird again, and a brief hope flared that he might shift his morbid interest
in making mummies from deceased animals to the care of live ones.  You just never know with him,
I said aloud as I entered the study.
 Baltic?
 Brom. Is it too much to hope he d become a vet? I would think that was a nice, normal, beneficial
profession. There s not much of a call for the ability to mummify things these days.
She smiled.  We ve enjoyed having him visit, mummy fascination and all. What was it you wanted to
talk to me about? Something to do with Baltic?
 Tangentially, perhaps. I d like to try to summon the First Dragon.
She blinked at me in surprise.
 I tried doing it myself, but my magic . . . well, you know about that.
 Yes, I know. Her lips twitched.
 So I got to thinking about what was different when I summoned him before, and your suggestion
about having dragons around, and discounting things like stress and unhappiness with the weyr being
collective asses, I decided the difference must be you.
 Why me? she asked, looking startled at the idea.
 You have a tie to the First Dragon.
 Yes, but so do you.
 Exactly. We both have a relationship with the First Dragon, and perhaps your presence is needed in
order to make a connection with him. Are you willing to give it a try?
 Right now?
 If you have the time, yes.
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded.  All right, but we should probably be as fast as possible.
Your wyvern isn t the most . . . er . . . conversational of all the dragons I ve met.
 That s the understatement of the year, I said, standing up and shaking out my hands while mentally
clearing my mind.
 What should I do?
 Just stand near me, as you were during the sárkány, I said, my eyes closed as I concentrated.
 Maybe have a mental image of the First Dragon.
 Ready, she said.
I took a deep breath, pulling hard on Baltic s fire as I spoke the words.  Light exists within me,
darkness I left behind, on my left hand sits that which was made, on my right sits that which has
passed. Bring forth your grace that we might by the rood! That was quick. Er . . . hello.
Before the last of my invocation had been spoken, the air in front of us began to collect itself in a
shimmery sort of swirl that quickly solidified into the form of a man who despite his human
appearance was quite obviously not human.
 Daughter of light, he said, a slightly puzzled look in his fathomless eyes. He glanced at May, who
stared at him with delight beaming from her face.  Daughter of shadows, he said, acknowledging
her.  Why have you summoned me?
May slid a look toward me.
 I m the one who summoned you. I squirmed a little under the regard of his eyes, his gaze seeming to
strip me to the deepest parts of my soul.  I had some questions about what you said to me the last time
we . . . er . . . met.
He waited, saying nothing, just looking at me with those uncanny eyes.  You said I had let you down
before, and to not do it again. I m sorry if I m unusually dense, but I don t understand what it is you
want me to do. If you could just tell me, I d be really grateful.
His eyes closed and he turned as if he was leaving, but the world seemed to slip away at that moment,
the walls and furniture and the house itself seemingly melting into a white nothingness.
A cold white nothingness.
 May? I asked, rubbing my arms as a blast of arctic wind knocked me back a few feet.
 Right here. It s another vision, isn t it? Like the one you had at the sárkány?
 Yes. I think . . . yes, up there. That s me.
 Isn t this when the First Dragon resurrected you? May asked, shivering next to me as we watched
the past version of myself trundling down a hill suddenly stop and turn to look upward.
 I think so. I certainly don t look terribly with it, do I?
 Well, I imagine being resurrected would take a lot out of you, she pointed out.
 What is it you wish of me? the past me asked, and May and I turned to look in the direction she was
calling.
The whirl of wind and snow lessened for a few seconds, revealing the figures of two men.
 Death of the innocent has stripped honor from my youngest son, one of the men said.  You must
return it to him.
The past Ysolde stared at him dully for a few seconds before simply turning and continuing on her
way down the snowy slope. May and I gaped at the First Dragon and the man beside him until a blast
of wind and icy snow had us reeling backward.
I covered my face against the sting of it, wiping away tears triggered by the cold. When I looked up,
May and I were standing in her library. I was somewhat heartened to see she had an expression of
incredulity on her face, since I knew I was beyond flabbergasted.
 That was . . . that was Constantine, wasn t it? she finally asked me.
I nodded.  I did hear the First Dragon right, didn t I? He said his youngest son?
 Yes. She blinked a couple of times and shook her head as if to clear away mental fog.  Constantine
Norka was the First Dragon s youngest son? I didn t know he had real children, since he calls other
dragons by the names son and daughter. She looked up at me with speculation.  He particularly
seems to like calling you daughter. I wonder if you really are?
I shook my head.  My parents were first black dragons, then silver when they left the sept with
Constantine. There s something . . . I bit my lip, trying hard to remember something that was said to
me relatively recently.  Kaawa, I think, told me that the dragon septs were originally formed by the
First Dragon. His children were the first wyverns.
 I think I remember reading that in one of the weyr history books, she said, looking thoughtful.  He
had one daughter and three sons, and they formed the original four septs. But I never remember seeing
Constantine s name included, although it makes sense if all the other original wyverns were children
of the First Dragon. I wonder why Gabriel never mentioned it?
 That s a very good question. Another good one is what the hell I m going to do.  Death of the
innocent stripped honor from my youngest son. That has to be Constantine killing me. So how on
earth am I supposed to return honor to my own murderer? Does it even matter since he s dead? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]