Curious to see for himself, he climbed to the top of one of the palace’s turrets and looked out across the city. It was deserted. Not a single person could be seen moving about the place. He was sure there were some, somewhere, but it was remarkably disconcerting to see the streets so empty. When he came down from the tower, he noticed that the palace was also far quieter than usual. While there seemed to be fewer servants about, more pronounced was the virtual absence of any of the court parasites and hangers-on who cluttered the place up most of the time. Those who were present gave him a wide berth—Amaury had even seen one servant stop in their tracks, turn, and head in the opposite direction upon seeing him.
He knew the reason, of course, and it was a bitter pill to swallow. If only the people had listened to him, listened to reason, nothing bad would have happened. As it was, he fully expected he would have to give another, similar lesson in the days to come. It was unpleasant, but nobody had ever said ruling was supposed to be enjoyable. It was a duty, placing the best interests of the state ahead of what one might desire personally, but that was his burden, and he was stuck with it now.
His secretary popped his head around the door after a cursory knock, with an expression on his face that said Amaury wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear.
“Lord Protector, I’m afraid it appears that the dragon has disappeared.”
“Pardon me?” Amaury said, genuinely nonplussed.
“The cage. It’s empty. There’s no sign of the creature.”
It took Amaury a moment to process the news. There was only one conclusion he could come to. That little bitch, he thought. Betrayed by his own daughter, simply because she hadn’t the stomach to see through the things that needed to be done. He should have left her to rot, all those years ago. He had been too sentimental by far, taking her in and trusting her as he had.
“Mobilise the City Watch. Every last man of them. I want the city gates closed and locked until we have the dragon back where it belongs. Tell the Watch to keep an eye out for my dau—Ysabeau dal Fleurat. She has some explaining to do.” He was about to add that the Intelligenciers should start investigating, but of course they were no more.
“That’s the other thing, Lord Protector,” his secretary said, the fear in his voice palpable.
Amaury noted that the young man was still standing behind the door with only his head visible.
“The Watch appear to have deserted their posts,” the secretary said.
“All of them?”
The secretary nodded.
Amaury closed his eyes and stifled a swear. “The Royal Guard then. Assign the Watch duties to them.”
“Very good, Lord Protector.”
As soon as the door closed behind his secretary, Amaury let out the curse he’d been holding back. The sooner he could get his mercenaries onto the streets, the better. He got up and paced around his office. What in hells has Ysabeau done with the dragon? It’s not as though it’s easy to sneak about and hide.…
Solène didn’t like to admit—even to herself—how relieved she was when they got out of Mirabay. The feeling increased with every step away they took, and they kept going until the moon was high in the night sky. Only then, under cover of darkness, could Solène finally accept that they were free and clear, could she honestly tell herself that she had carried out her promise to Pharadon.
She hadn’t thought beyond this point, however, and had no idea where to go or what to do next. She looked at the dragon, still moving somewhat awkwardly in its human guise. The beautiful, dark-haired woman regarded her surroundings with wide-eyed wonder. Only an hour earlier, this woman had been a golden dragon, not yet over the threshold of true self-awareness. It must have been an incredibly jarring experience for the young dragon, and Solène felt remiss for not making more of an effort to comfort her through it.
“Are you … all right?” Solène said.
“Perfectly, thank you,” Ashanya said. “I’m listening to the song of my kind, and learning from it.”
“The song of your kind? Other dragons are talking to you?” Solène could barely remember hearing something she’d have described as a song when she became enlightened, although she couldn’t understand any of it. The memory felt so distant now that she had to search it out.
Ashanya shook her head, an odd, jerky movement with none of the natural rhythm of a real person. “No, not directly to me; their song is carried on the Fount. I can hear it now.”
“What does it say?” Solène said, genuinely intrigued.
“All sorts of things. Stories of my kind, lessons they learned. It is a comfort.”
She looked at Solène, who noticed that despite her human form, Ashanya’s eyes had returned to a piercing crystal blue.
“It worries me that I might always be alone,” Ashanya said.
Solène gave her a sad smile. What could she say? There were no assurances she could make; there was no comfort she could give. She had no idea if there were any more slumbering dragons or hidden clutches of eggs, waiting for the right moment to hatch. Part of her hoped there were.
“The song says there might be others, but not when they will come into the world. If they emerge, will you help me? The song says it takes a Cup, or two of the enlightened, to bring another dragon into the light. There are no more Cups, just you and I. Will you help?”
“Of course,” Solène said. “I promise that I will always answer your call, if I can.” It felt odd that she had made more promises to dragons than she ever had to other humans. “What will you do now? Where will you go?”
Ashanya looked toward the mountains. “Back there. Home. I will call you if I find others.”
“I’ve heard the song too,” Solène said. “Will I ever come to understand it?”
Ashanya shook her head. “Not that of dragonkind. Are many of yours enlightened?” She shook her head again, and forced an expression that looked like sympathy. “No,” she said, answering her own question. “The song says only one other. Not enough to be able to hear their voice on the Fount.”
Solène realised Ashanya must be talking about Amatus. It was incredible to imagine that one day she might be able to hear his thoughts and experiences, to learn from them.
They walked in silence away from the road until there was no chance of being seen, even at that late hour. Ashanya had started to revert back to her normal form before Solène noticed. She had to step back a few paces to get away from the dragon’s rapidly increasing size. Solène wondered how Ashanya was able to change twice in such a short period of time, but reckoned that the Cup must have imbued the young dragon with a massive amount of energy, which was clearly not yet depleted.
Ashanya gave Solène a nod and stretched her wings. With a rush of air and dust, she was in the air. Solène shielded her eyes for a moment, then watched as Ashanya flew higher and higher, until she was no more than a speck, glinting in the moonlight like a dream.
When she could see no more trace of the young dragon, Solène began to wonder where she should go, what she should do next. If she went back to the king, he would expect her to fight for him, and even now, she couldn’t bring herself to do that. She couldn’t use her magic to kill. Once that dam was broken, there was no going back, and she knew the only thing easier than doing it the second time would be the third, then the fourth. There would always be a good reason to kill someone. The only way to resist was to say never and refuse to budge.