The sun was already high overhead and people were starting to head toward the palace. Returning to the old amphitheatre, Solène saw that the labourers had stopped work and were talking to each other. A moment later, they set down their tools and disappeared from sight. She smiled when she saw them filing out of the entrance. It looked like she was getting the opportunity she needed.
She waited until the men had disappeared, and then, ever cautious, Solène draped herself in a magical shroud that made her almost impossible to see. She crossed the street and entered where the workmen had departed. A dark tunnel ended in steps that led up to light beyond. Two armed men stood at the opening, silhouetted by the light, but as soon as she spotted them, they crumpled to the ground in a slumber from which they would not wake for hours. Solène’s eyes widened—she had put them to sleep almost without thinking—her desire had become reality as soon as it had entered her head. As satisfying as that was, it was proof that she had to be more careful with her thoughts than ever before.
She hurried into the amphitheatre proper, with its circular stone tiers of seating rising up and out like ripples on a pond. Nearly completed timber scaffolds supported a viewing platform around the top of the amphitheatre. The arena’s floor was covered with the domed cage that Solène had seen from outside. Contained within was the goldscale. Solène’s heart sank when she saw her. The vibrant, healthy-looking creature she had seen at the temple was now a shadow of its former self. It was curled up and mournful. Its flesh was stretched tight over its bones, and Solène could make out the shape of its ribs beneath its gleaming scales. It was a tragic thing to see, and she was terrified that she had come too late.
Solène checked the amphitheatre over again to make sure she was alone—it looked as though the two sleeping guards were the only ones who had remained behind. She wondered what the Prince Bishop planned to say, but her curiosity could wait. With luck, he would be gone soon and whatever he said would be rendered irrelevant.
Her first obstacle was getting to the goldscale. She walked around the cage’s perimeter until she found a small, human-sized gate. Though the gate was locked, Solène didn’t even have to touch a finger to it to open it. The recently greased hinges turned without a sound, and Solène was inside. She wasn’t sure how the goldscale would react to her being so close—it was still a base creature, and Solène very much doubted it had received good treatment from other humans.
She approached slowly, not sure if it was asleep or awake. An untouched, fresh-looking carcass sat on the sandy ground beside it. If the dragon woke hungry, hopefully it would choose that, rather than Solène. The dragon’s eyes opened lazily, first a thick gold outer eyelid, followed by a wet, gossamer-like inner lid that hinted at the brilliance of what was beneath. When it too opened, Solène’s breath was taken by the magnificence of the two gleaming azure orbs.
“I’m a friend,” Solène said, not knowing if the creature understood her, or even heard her. “I’m here to help you.”
It continued to stare at her with its intoxicating blue eyes, but didn’t move.
“Your friend sent me to help you,” Solène said. “Pharadon, the red dragon. He said you are ready to be enlightened, so I brought you this to drink from.” She took the Cup and a small leather flask from a pocket in her cloak, and held them out to show the goldscale. It did not react.
Solène filled the Cup with water from the flask and proffered it to the goldscale. No response.
“You have to drink from it,” she said.
It gave no sign that it heard her.
Even with its mouth closed, Solène could see some of the dragon’s fangs, and had no desire to get too close. It seemed she had no alternative, however. She gritted her teeth and got down on her hunkers, then shuffled forward in as unthreatening a way as she could. The last thing she wanted was to get eaten by the dragon she was trying to help.
“You must drink this,” Solène said. “It will help you.” She extended the Cup, doing her best to keep her hand from shaking and spilling every drop before it reached its intended destination. Where the dragon’s mouth opened slightly—where those fierce-looking teeth could be seen—she did her best to pour the water in. Some splashed against her face and dripped to the ground, but Solène reckoned enough got to where it needed to go.
The Cup empty, Solène dropped onto her backside, drew her knees up to her chin, and looked at the dragon. It appeared no different. What do I do now?
After what seemed an age, the dragon’s inner eyelids slid down, then up again. Solène thought she might be imagining it, but something about them seemed different—the vibrant blue seemed sharper, more defined.
“So weak,” the dragon said, its voice rasping and sibilant.
“It worked,” Solène said, allowing herself a laugh. “I’m Solène. What can I do to help you?”
“Gold.”
Solène frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Gold,” the dragon said again, its tone strained and airy.
Wracking her brain, Solène remembered Pharadon asking for gold at the temple before placing a coin under the dragon’s head. She hadn’t asked why, but it was obviously important. She pulled her purse from her belt and whisked through it with her index finger, praying that she would spot the glimmer of gold. She let out a breath of relief when she did, and fished the coin out.
As gently as she could, she pushed the coin in under the dragon’s jaw, then sat back to wonder what it did.
“Has that helped?” she said. She allowed herself to see the Fount, and instantly understood. Just as Telastrian steel seemed to soak up, store, and discharge the Fount’s energy, gold similarly seemed to serve as a conduit for the magical energy. Ambient energy—a beautiful swirling blue glow—drifted toward the coin, then was sucked into it and channelled into the goldscale. For a moment she watched the process in fascination, until she realised the dragon had spoken again.
“I’m sorry?” Solène said.
“Ashanya,” the dragon said. “I am Ashanya.”
Solène let out a laugh of joy. “I’m Solène,” she said, once again.
“Thank you for helping me.” The dragon’s voice was still weak and thin, but she seemed a little less lethargic now. “Where is the redscale?”
Solène smiled sadly. “I’m sorry, Ashanya. He’s gone. He asked me to come and help you. We need to get out of this place as soon as you’re ready. As soon as we can.”
Ashanya lifted her head, then tried to stand but lurched to one side. Solène could see the strain on the dragon’s face as she forced her weakened limbs to obey her, but eventually the goldscale stood on all fours, wavering gently as she struggled to maintain her balance.
“You should eat before we go,” Solène said. “We have a long journey ahead. You’ll need your strength.”
Ashanya nodded, and lowered her head to sniff at the carcass. “Step away,” she said.
Solène did as she was asked, and Ashanya let out a narrow jet of intense flame. The air filled with the smell of cooking meat, reminding Solène that it had been some time since she’d had a decent meal herself. While Ashanya ate, Solène turned her attention to the cage. With the reinforcement of Telastrian steel, there wasn’t much she could do to it magically. Any Fount energy she directed at it by way of magical craft would be absorbed and dispersed. Short of taking conventional cutting tools to it, she couldn’t think of a way through, and there certainly was not the time for that.
She looked around for any sign of weakness, but the work all looked solid, each crossing of the cage’s bands being both riveted and welded. She turned back to Ashanya, who was finishing her meal.