Some days just kind of pass. Relaxing, mildly pleasant, or dreary, nothing much happens. It’s a day among others, and before long you’d be hard pressed to remember a single thing that happened. You probably couldn’t even say what you had for dinner.

  Then there are days like the second day of the Conclave, which started with me having a private conversation with a fully grown dragon who wasn’t my mother, continued with me telling three fully grown dragons who wanted to carve up my territory to have a go, if you think you’re ‘ard enough, and then went on to end in an even more spectacular fashion.

  I didn’t want to interrupt while the League of Lizards was meeting, Conscience told me as Mother and I watched the other dragons leave after the conclave, but if you’re done you’re really going to want to get back to the shrine.

  What? I asked, my adrenaline spiking immediately. The conclave had been going on for a good three or four hours — it was hard to say, but plenty of time for something to happen. What’s going on? Why did you wait to tell me?!

  Calm down! It’s good, not bad. And I’m not telling, either, so get your scaly tail up there!

  Mother didn’t question my sudden rush to get back to the safety of the palace grounds and the rotunda. She saw me safely back, then took off to patrol the sky and make sure none of the others tried anything. As I trotted anxiously through the doors I didn’t have time to ask what had happened before Mak called out in a stage whisper, “Draka! Here! Come here!”

  Conscience had told me that whatever had happened it was good, not bad, but it wasn’t until I heard the excitement in Mak’s voice that I really started calming down.

  “What is it?” I asked as I approached, aiming my question at anyone who cared to answer. For the first time since I brought Zabra and Tammy, they were all gathered in something that could be considered a single group; one with plenty of air between some of its members, perhaps, but one group nonetheless. “What happened?”

  “She asked for you!” Mak answered, gripping Herald’s hand gently. “She’s asleep again now, but—”

  “She’s awake?!” I hadn’t really heard the second part of what Mak said, and I rushed the last few steps to their side, drawing some startled sounds from the mules outside.

  “Asleep,” Maglan said, a little more sharply than perhaps necessary. He was sitting crosslegged with Herald’s head resting on a pillow in his lap, slowly stroking her hair. “She was only awake for long enough that Kira got some broth in her, and for her to say a few words. But yeah, she wondered where you were.”

  Suddenly it felt like the conclave had been a terrible waste of an afternoon. I could have been there, ready to tell Herald that everything was going to be alright when she opened her eyes, and instead I’d been telling a bunch of dragons to try me and watched them squabble in a language I didn’t even understand. It felt so pointless in comparison.

  Herald would disagree, Conscience reminded me. And she was right. Herald would tell me that the conclave was far more important, and that if she’d been awake enough to speak for even a minute or two, then she’d wake up properly soon. She’d be adamant that keeping the intruders from getting any more ideas than they already had was far more important than sitting vigil over her. And she’d be right. I still felt robbed that I hadn’t been there.

  “Did anything trigger it?” I asked softly, looking down at Herald and missing her so much my heart hurt. “When she woke up, I mean. Like with you, Mak? Or did it just happen?”

  “I was reading,” Mak said. “I was reading out loud to everyone, in case someone noticed something I missed. I’m not a scholar, after all. Not even an amateur one, like Herald. And at one part she— she just stirred.”

  I snorted softly. “Of course it would be something like that. If only one of us could read Old Mallinean. I bet she’d’ve been up days ago if we could have tried that,” I said, so preoccupied by my fondness that I didn't even think to ask what part, or what they'd found in the translations at all.

  Mak wouldn’t let me forget something so important, though. “Draka,” she said in her best ‘please don’t go crook’ voice, “there are some things in these letters you need to know.”

  There were a lot of glances back and forth between the humans when she said that. The kind that said, “we’ve talked about this, and I’m pretty sure this is going to make the dragon upset.” Nobody wanted that. Whether because they loved me or feared me, nobody ever wanted to upset the dragon. And yet, Mak continued.

  “Do you think we could take a walk?” she asked before turning to Kira. “I should be fine to take a walk, right?”

  Kira looked doubtful. “If you take it easy,” she said, then looked at me. “Please do not go too far.”

  “We won’t,” I promised, then looked at Mak and gestured toward the doors with my head. She nodded, slung the bag with the letters over her shoulder, and let the way out.

  I let her set the pace, but that didn’t hold us back. She was much more energetic and sure on her feet than I’d feared. Between some proper rest and all the Advancements whose effects she was enjoying, she’d recovered quickly from several days of inactiveness and underfeeding, and I was glad to see it.

  “Are you feeling all right then?” I asked after she threw her arms out wide and took a deep breath.

  “Much better now, yeah,” she confirmed. “I love Kira, but she’s been mothering me terribly. I haven’t been out since I woke up except to tend to my needs. This? This is just what I needed. Um… how are you feeling? Or, I mean, I know how you’re feeling now, but how have you been? What’s been happening?”

  I huffed deeply. “Instinct’s gone, and half the conclave wants me dead.”

  Mak stumbled. For a moment I thought she was doing some kind of slapstick bit — Mak never stumbled. It didn’t matter how fatigued she might be, she had a double dose of Grace, and her balance was perfect. I was expecting her to say something sympathetic or reassuring, but when she raised her face, it was harrowed. “Gone?” she asked, her voice choked. “You never said… You told me she went silent after the crystal, but… gone? How gone?”

  “I don’t know,” I confessed, not quite seeing how badly I’d affected her. “I can’t feel her. Mother can still feel us, but only weakly, and I… I don’t want to think that Instinct’s truly gone, but I’ve got this fear that what Mother feels is the parts of Instinct that are in me.”

  “She can’t be,” Mak whispered. “It would be like if you lost a limb. Intolerable. I— no. No, I can’t believe that. She must be stunned, or sleeping, or something. Like we were. She can’t be gone.”

  I looked at her again, then, and really saw her. The way she’d slumped subtly. The stiff way she moved. The stricken look on her face. And I remembered. Herald, Mak, all of my humans, they loved Instinct and Conscience as much as they did me. They loved Draka in all her aspects. And now I’d gone and told Mak that one of those aspects might be, for all intents and purposes, dead.

  “No, I’m sure you’re right,” I told her, forcing myself to speak calmly and tamping down hard on my impulse to babble, to tell her that I was just being a pessimistic idiot and to do anything to reassure her. With any luck I managed to keep my emotions somewhat in check, too, because she really didn’t need me to upset her any more than I already did on a regular basis. “Hey,” I said, hoping to distract her. “You wanted to tell me about those letters, right? Can I assume that there were some things in there you’d rather keep secret from the others?”

  “Hmm?” Mak had been staring straight ahead, but came back to herself when I asked my questions. “Oh, yes. Yes. I read some parts out loud, but there were things I thought you wouldn’t want the others to know. And others that I thought— I thought you might not want them to see your reaction.”

  “Oh,” I said flatly. That was ominous. “All right. You may as well lay it on me.”

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  She sighed reluctantly, said, “Right. You should sit for this. For that matter, so should I.”

  Once we had, she began relaying what she’d read. It took less than a minute before I demanded she read me the exact words of the translation instead, so I could be sure that she hadn’t misunderstood. It took a moment more for her to take out the scroll and start over.

  The first letter was short.

  On the third day of the Crane’s moon, in the four-hundred and forty-seventh year of the City of Rains

  A queen to her brother,

  Dearest, most valorous Sekteretesh. I am excited beyond words at what you have uncovered. That the rulers of Maleyin do not merely publicly pay the tyrant tribute in the form of gold and power, but venerate it in secret ceremonies, is troubling. Yet we should not allow ourselves to be surprised. From your observations I believe, and our scholars agree, that you must be correct: from its appearance, and by the way it has so quickly brought Maleyin under its sway, this tyrant must indeed be the one we have sought; the last scion of the scourge that so long kept its talons on the throat of our people.

  Your valor and prowess are beyond question, and now I find myself well satisfied with your ability as an inquisitor. Our goal lies near at hand. Yet, do not allow enthusiasm to make you careless, brother. To finally wipe the line of the Soul Dragon from this world and end the threat of another Grand Tyrant would be a great boon not only to the City of Rains, but to all peoples. You must not fail. Take your time. Do not let your hosts learn of your intentions until it is too late for them to interfere. Discover every advantage you may use, and every weakness of the tyrant’s that you may exploit. Should you require resources or support, only write. The treasury and my staff stand at your disposal, within your well-proven reason.

  Though I am loath to wield the authority of my spear against you, brother, as your queen and empress I command you thus: do not fail in this. Do not allow pride to lead you to do yourself what others may be more suited for. Your honor and glory are assured, and cannot be diminished by seeking aid. Nothing can be lost by placing success above personal achievement.

  I look forward to hearing of your progress.

  With her own hand,

  Okaitireti, third of her name, queen and empress of the City of Rains and her provinces

  Your doting sister

  There were some annotations from Tavia and Ramban which Mak read as they came, describing Sekteretesh as a royal name in Tekeretek both before and after the Cataclysm, the spelling Maleyin as being an artefact of the scripts used and that it should be considered equivalent to Malyon, and that Okaitireti the Third was recorded as one candidate for reigning monarch of Tekeretek at the time of the Cataclysm; succeeded, they noted, by Sekteretesh the First. I could only imagine how excited that had made them.

  They also pointed out, in a rather lengthy note, that there was no mention anywhere in any history or other text that they’d seen of any Soul Dragon. They didn’t speculate in their note on what it might mean.

  I had some pretty strong suspicions. Just hearing that, Soul Dragon, made some pieces slot neatly into place — ones that I had been pretty sure belonged together but hadn’t quite figured out how. I didn’t reflect on it overly at that moment, though. I was far too focused on the main message, and I didn’t even realize that I was growling, low and furious, until Mak placed her hand on my neck, stroking my scales and murmuring soothing nothings.

  “They planned it, from the empress down,” I said when I finally managed to form intelligible words.

  “They did,” Mak agreed.

  “They’d been searching for him. Hunting him. They wanted to exterminate his entire line.”

  “They did.”

  “So why am I alive?”

  “Remember the inscription?” she asked carefully, as though she was afraid I might lash out at her just for mentioning it. “He said that he’d taken you and your siblings as spoils. There’s more, in the other letters.”

  “Do you think I can handle another letter right now?” I asked. The question was completely sincere, too. I didn’t trust myself to judge right then, but I felt like I might fly into an aimless rage or fall into a depression like the previous night, depending on what Okaitireti might have written. But Mak? She knew me better than I knew myself most of the time, and I trusted her judgment implicitly. Except recently when it came to magical control panels, but that was a pretty extreme niche case.

  “The second, yes,” she said after some thought. “The third… I think we should leave that until you’re under less pressure, and in a better state of mind. When Herald is awake, perhaps.”

  “That bad?” I asked.

  “That bad,” she confirmed. “I’d prefer not to even give you a summary.”

  “Right. Yeah. Just the second letter, then.”

  On the twenty-ninth day of the Warrior’s moon, in the four-hundred and forty-eighth year of the City of Rains

  A sister to her most valued subject,

  Beloved brother, I pray this letter is not too much delayed in finding you. The old vulture has sworn that he will send it with a fleet and discreet courier, who should place it in your hand within only a week or two. I pray fortune does not make a liar of him. The funds you requested should not be too far behind, travelling by a slower and safer route along with a copy of this letter and the likewise asked-for assistance.

  I was greatly pleased to hear from you after so long. No, I do not count your short notes as correspondence; though they have been much appreciated, they left me wishing for a proper letter, and to hear of you and not only of your mission. I hope you will find the time to write again soon.

  In the same spirit, I hope you will be pleased to hear that I am again with child. It is early yet, but I am already certain that when you return, you will have a fierce little niece or nephew to dote on. But Tira and Bolo miss their favorite uncle terribly, so be sure not to let novelty lead you to favor their new sibling too outrageously.

  Our mother has recovered fully from the illness I told you of in my last letter. I do not know if it was due to the herbs you sent, but she enjoyed the tea they made greatly. She sends her love, and a request for more of the same.

  Alas, I must leave matters of family there to turn to your latest revelations, for they are too important to leave long unaddressed.

  The arrival of a second false god in Maleyin fills me with misgivings. I have consulted our most accomplished scholars, and they agree: an ally for the tyrant is a complication, but a mate would be either a calamity or a great opportunity, and nothing in between. Their brood would make a prize beyond reckoning. Yet we must not allow this to drive us to act rashly. We know that they brood where they mate, and that they will not share the air for long with another of their kind. Whether they mate or not it is only a matter of time before one or the other leaves or is driven off, and I doubt it will be the Grand Tyrant’s scion. Be patient, continue as you have, and do not draw any suspicion.

  Your acquaintance with the man Drobal, the mouthpiece of the tyrant, is an achievement worth much praise. If ever a man was in a position to provide you with intelligence on your prey, it is him. Yet I must urge caution. The scholars again agree: the Grand Tyrant and its line formed deeper bonds with some of their slaves than do the other false gods, and they were known to be fiercely possessive of these favored servants. We must assume the same to be true of this ‘Darkness of the Night’. Thus, while Drobal represents a great opportunity, he may also draw down the tyrant’s suspicion upon you. I need not tell you why this must not come to pass. Show interest, yes, but do not make yourself an object of the same!

  Finally, I confess that your plan of infiltrating the tyrant’s cult directly concerns me. I will not command you to abandon it; dearest brother, I have faith in your judgment and reason. Yet I implore you, as your sister, to consider long and well before moving ahead. We may be uniquely suited to resisting enslavement, yet inside the cult that very resistance may prove your undoing. Be sure, brother, that you are fully armed with knowledge before going in, and that you have a clear path out. If you cannot ensure both, then for the love you bear me, seek another way to get close to the tyrant!

  I do not hesitate to tell you that if I must choose between the bones of the Grand Tyrant’s scion or the life of my dearest brother, I choose the latter. Yet, know that I do not tell you this in the expectation that anything will make you abandon your mission. It is too important, and I know well that your honor and duty will not allow it. I mention it only to make clear to you my fervent wish to have you back one day, safe and victorious. Therefore, where you have a choice of two paths to the same goal, choose always the safer one, even if it is more circuitous. What does it matter if you arrive later, so long as you arrive at all?

  I fear I must end here, lest this letter run onto a second scroll. Please write soon — a proper letter, with parts I can read to Tira and Bolo.

  We pray for your success and your safe return.

  With her own hand,

  Okaitireti, third of her name, queen and empress of the City of Rains and her provinces

  Your doting sister

  There were two nearly unintelligible scrawls below the empress’s signature, said a note from the scholars. Possibly from the two children named in the letter.

  Outwardly, I was calm. I wasn’t even growling this time. But Mak’s worried expression showed that she wasn’t fooled. I was in the eye of a storm of fury.

  There were a few things there worth my anger, but above all, one thought ran through my head: how dare he? How dare this treacherous bastard be righteous? How dare he be careful and patient. How, by all that was right, dare he be loved?

  If this was how the second letter affected me, the one Mak deemed safe, I dreaded what might be in the third.

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