The next morning, I went out early to find a nearby Rift. That went quickly — we were getting far enough north that the closest one was less than ten miles away. As everybody was getting ready, I took the magic users there to make sure that their Hearts were as bursting with power as they could be. I was taking Herald with me south, and the others were continuing into steadily more dangerous territory — I was not going to leave them without making sure that their abilities were as strong as they could possibly be.

  I’d just returned with Tam and Kira when Mother stopped by. Or flew past, rather — we didn’t wait for her to land. Instinct came to the front with her typical eagerness, and we took to the air immediately, leaving the others to finish their preparations.

  “You have been busy, dear daughter,” Mother greeted us as we took a position off her left wing, close enough to speak. “Flying this way and that. I would have thought you would stay with your humans.”

  “I am busy,” we replied. Instinct’s tone was a little defensive for my taste, but I was trying to give her freer reins, and I wasn’t going to interfere with what she wanted to say — unless she was about to give away something I’d really rather Mother didn’t know. “There are still people in the city I want to see, and they are beset by enemies, by land and by sea. I cannot just let my city fall while I do nothing!”

  “You have a peculiar attachment to that city,” Mother observed as she took us on a long turn westward, over the mountains. “Your father was the same. Always in and out of this city you are taking your humans to — Malyin, Malyon… You call it Mallin, I believe? Every few weeks at least he would visit, and he would always have his favorite with him. The same went for the city where your Karakan sits today. Always with the cities, him.”

  “He had a favorite?” we asked curiously. “Like Herald?”

  “Very much like your Herald, yes! I believe his name was Drogal, Drobal — something like that. It was all I could do to get Night to leave that human behind, sometimes. He was quite pleasant, I admit, but really!”

  As interesting as it was to know that Night had a favorite of his own, I urged Instinct to bring Mother back to the topic of Malyon. She didn’t need much prompting — she didn’t care much about someone else’s humans. “So they went to Malyon often?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes! He never wanted to tell me what he did there, either, besides meeting with people. The leaders and priests and such, I suppose. But there really was no reason why they couldn’t come to his lair to pay their respects! I understand the road is gone now, but it was quite large and well maintained, as I understand it. It really is a shame. Perhaps you could look into having it reconstructed? I understand humans appreciate good roads.”

  I had to applaud Instinct for her tact. I wondered if that was my and Conscience’s influence, or our Charisma or Cunning Advancements, or just her slowly learning. Whatever the cause, she waited patiently as Mother went off on her tangent, only barely letting herself get distracted by the herd of goats we passed over in one of the high valleys. When Mother finished, Instinct said, “What do you think Father was doing in the city? If he was not only speaking with their leaders.”

  “I wish that I knew,” Mother said sourly. “He never told me, and he could get awfully tetchy when pressed. I tell you, daughter, an acid temper and a sharp tongue can be very attractive from a distance, but they are not so pleasant when turned your own way! In the end I stopped asking. I decided it was not worth my peace to find out, and that he would tell me soon enough. You know how that went.”

  As Mother spoke, she indicated that we should turn toward a nearby mountain, tall enough that it dominated its surroundings, its peak a thousand feet or more above us even at our altitude. It wasn’t quite as tall as Sunset Peak, the mountain to which I’d taken Herald to show her snow and watch the sun set in the western sea, but it must still have been one of the tallest mountains on Mallin.

  “Do you know where in the city he went, at least?” Instinct asked. I had to coach her on that one; she was getting bored with the conversation. “That might give some clue.”

  “Oh, here and there,” she said indifferently. “There was a sizable plaza in the middle of the city, with a great temple in the center of it. He went there often enough, but I can find no trace of it now — it is all scattered stones and tall trees. But when it stood, that was his most common destination — that and the ruined palace on the cliff.”

  “That makes sense, if he was speaking with kings and priests,” Instinct commented as Mother brought us in to land.

  Mother didn’t answer as she took us down. She’d chosen a small plateau a few hundred feet short of the peak, and it lay blanketed in untouched snow, a foot or more deep in places, where the persistent wind had driven it into small banks instead of whipping it right off the mountain. There she walked right up to the western edge, where the clear weather of the day let us see across the mountains and the distant forest to see a sliver of sea on the horizon.

  The cold and the wind didn’t bother us, but Instinct set about clearing as much of the snow as she could from where we’d sit. Mother gave an amused huff and motioned us aside, then let off a blast of flame that cleared an area large enough for the both of us. Compared to what I’d seen, it was at the extreme bottom end of how impressive her flames could be — it wasn’t blindingly bright and didn’t make the stones beneath the snow glow. It still left the stones clear and practically dry in moments.

  Mercies, but I envied her in that moment. My venom spray was useful, and the acid I had available to choose whenever I wanted it sounded impressive, but it was a tiny, tiny bit disappointing to be a dragon with no fire — especially having seen what hers could do. Besides, the thought of Mak with fire breath was incredibly amusing. With Instinct fronting I could even have a giggle about it without making Mother wonder why I started laughing all of a sudden.

  With the snow cleared, Mother lay down, looking at us expectantly. We did the same, Instinct cuddling up against her side for warmth and protection from the wind. The cold and wind may not have bothered us much, but that didn’t stop us from enjoying some cozy comfort.

  Once we’d settled, Mother picked up the conversation right where we’d left off. “‘Makes sense’, you said... I suppose it does. But I do wish that temple had not been destroyed. I never got my answer to what he was doing there, and it has vexed me off and on for centuries now. The palace is still there, of course, though in a sorry state. I have had a mind to see if I could take a look inside, but with the condition it is in I fear it might collapse around me if I try to enter, ruining all hope of finding any clue that may shed light on what he did there — unlikely as that is to begin with. But I remember your Herald telling me that she was most interested in the old ruin herself, and I expect she will wish to take a look once they arrive. Small and nimble as they are, I imagine your humans have as good a chance of finding anything there is to find as one might reasonably hope for. Please tell me if they do!”

  “I will!”

  We sat in silence for as long as Instinct could manage, listening to the wind moan around the stones and watching as it dragged up great, whirling clouds of loose snow. Then she asked, “Why are we here?”

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  “A question as old as time,” Mother muttered. “To gather treasure, I suppose.”

  “Yes,” Instinct agreed, “but why are we here on this mountain, right now?”

  “Oh, that.” Mother fell back into a pensive silence, only speaking again right before Instinct’s patience was about to fail. “There is a mated pair out there, to the west. A silver female and an emerald male. I have not spoken with them, but we have taken each other’s measure, without trading claw, fang, or flame. They are young, I believe; no more than a century or two. Weaker than I am, beyond any doubt. Yet I worry that they may be trouble.”

  Two more dragons. I’d been steeling myself for this news ever since Mother told us about her conversation with Splendor, and what he’d revealed about the pact. I was nowhere near prepared for the dread that her news filled me with. That made three strangers in total, and it would only be a matter of time before the humans heard about it. Hell, Happar and Tekeretek certainly knew about Splendor already, what with him having flown directly above Happar’s port and all.

  Instinct, though, seemed remarkably unbothered. “Why? Can you not simply scare them off?”

  “It may not be so simple. Splendor was bothersome, but agreed to withdraw once I had spoken with him. These two are fast and nimble, and have shown no interest in conversation. If they come in earnest, all they need do is split up. While I chase one, the other will be free to do as they wish.”

  “Then you should kill the one you chase, so you can follow the other!” Instinct delivered her suggestion with great satisfaction, as though she’d solved one of those horrid little puzzles where you have to move bits around until you can take it apart. And of course she had no moral qualms about simply killing another dragon; she didn’t have any morals in general.

  “That is how it would have to be,” Mother agreed. “Unfortunately, it would invite retaliation. You understand my concern.”

  That dampened Instinct's enthusiasm for violence considerably. “If you kill one, the other may come for me. If they know about me.”

  “If they know about you. Which we cannot discount. No, as distasteful as it is, we shall have to allow them to approach the island, if only to ensure that they remain together.”

  Instinct bristled at that, and my dread only grew. There were huge swathes of this island that we had never seen — more than half, perhaps as much as two thirds. But we still counted the entire island as ours. Our territory, where no other dragon was welcome without our blessing. Mother obviously had that. The Might And Splendor Of The Depthless Ocean absolutely did not. And these two new strangers hadn’t even tried to speak with Mother. They looked like a threat through and through, two young and hungry challengers come to see if the old pact had finally fallen apart, and if this prime territory was theirs for the taking.

  Instinct, not having actually seen the two, wanted to fight. Everything was weaker than us until proven otherwise.

  Mother says that they are a century or two old, I reminded her. I wanted nothing to do with them. As long as there was any chance of just getting them to go away, a direct confrontation should be avoided if at all possible.

  “We grow quickly!” she insisted. “We are strong!”

  Yes, I agreed patiently. But they are likely to be much larger than us, with many more Advancements.

  “And Mother is larger still!” she countered, apparently believing that dragons averaged out somehow. “And the Herald is an excellent archer! She can shoot them from our back!”

  Now, that I had to think about. Herald had said something similar, and I had no doubt that she’d be ecstatic at the suggestion. She’d had no trouble riding me without holding on with her hands, either. I hated the idea of taking her with me to meet unfamiliar dragons, much less to fight them, but honestly? I couldn’t ignore the possibility.

  “You are pensive, daughter,” Mother said to our long silence.

  “We could fight them together,” Instinct grumbled, and I got the impression that she expected Mother to object as immediately as I had.

  But she didn’t. “If we must,” Mother agreed. “We will attempt to reason with them first. But until we know that they will not challenge us, I will remain between them and you, ready to intervene should they approach. And should they split up, the male remaining at sea and the female circling around… then you must flee. Fly west and cross the mountains, and I will know that you need aid. Do not attempt to fight her alone!”

  “But I could—!”

  “No!” Mother’s command was like the breaking of a mountain, and Instinct quailed before the suffocating weight of her displeasure. “No child of mine will throw her life away so recklessly! Listen to me, little one! We do not know that she is aware of you, and we do not know that she will separate from her mate, but if she does, and if she finds you, she may well decide to kill you on principle. And do not think for a moment that you are ready to fight her! No, if you see her, you must find me, or hide somewhere she cannot get to you. Is that understood?”

  Wings out, neck straight out, Instinct pressed herself to the ground in utter submission. I could feel her trying to retreat, to force me to take control, and for once I had to fight to force her to keep fronting; not just because Mother would know instantly that something had changed, but because as long as I wasn't in control, I had some layer of protection from that undefiable disapproval.

  “Yes!” Instinct said when she finally accepted that there was no escape, raising her head only as much as necessary to look Mother in the eyes.

  “Yes, what?” Mother growled, lowering her head so it was only feet from our own.

  “Yes, I understand! Yes, I will not fight!”

  “Good,” Mother said. She nuzzled our head gently, and the weight crushing us into the stone below vanished. “That is good. Do not mistake me, little one; I mean no insult. I understand your desire to defend what is yours. It is natural, and your courage is admirable. But I cannot abide the thought of you perishing needlessly, and this is a fight you cannot win. Know this: You take after your father much more than you do me, and I doubt you will ever approach my size or my strength. Even when you are fully grown and at the peak of your power, there will be many of our kind that you cannot defeat in a direct contest. You must instead do as your father did, and rely on your cunning, and your magic. In the future, that might mean to strike from the shadows, and to melt away before your rival can retaliate. Today, it means to avoid confrontation; to escape, to hide, and to join me, that I may keep you safe.”

  Instinct didn’t disagree openly with Mother, but as we returned to the others she grumbled inwardly about the whole thing striking her as cowardly. She had no problem with the idea of striking from the shadows and harassing an opponent without letting them retaliate; it was entirely avoiding conflict that bothered her. I could only suppose that she was embarrassed about our headlong flight from Splendor, since she’d never worried much about courage or cowardice before.

  I’d been worried about my humans freaking out at the news of two more dragons taking an interest in the island, but they took it better than I had, and better than when I told them about Splendor. Not that they were any less worried. More fatalistic, perhaps.

  “Mercies preserve us, because there’s not much we can do, is there?” was Tam’s reaction. “Should we expect more?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” I told them. “I think my mother would have mentioned if she’d sensed any others, but I’m pretty sure she can only sense males. For all I know there could be any number of females on the way, and I don’t know what her range is.”

  “So anywhere between three and gods-only-know unfamiliar dragons, possibly hostile,” he concluded. I silently thanked him for not including my mother in that count. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do with that, but I figure we either carry on, or go mad. And I for one have been looking forward to seeing Old Mallin.”

  “The renditions in the book you brought back are astounding, and it will be a great novelty to visit an entire city in ruin,” Val said, his way of agreeing with his lover. His voice took on a humorous tone as he added, “And to see the temple and the library that Herald has described to us seems much preferable to insanity.”

  The others expressed similar views. Nobody expected to stand a chance against a single grown dragon, so what difference did it make if there was one or three? All they could do was hope that none of them would take notice, and focus their concern on the much more likely threat of monstrous animals, trolls, and possibly overconfident goblins or valkin lying in ambush along the road. Between Tam’s intuition and luck, Mak’s sheer physical prowess, and the skill and experience of the others, none of us were too concerned. At least not yet.

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