“Do it, Azkun! She's your mother!” he yelled when he realised Azkun was still frozen in the archway. “Do it before it kills me!”
Azkun shook his head, trying to clear the panic that rose like death in his mind. But he could see what was happening. He started forward. Tenari clung to his arm but did not stop him.
At that moment the dragon rumbled like distant thunder.
Althak guessed what was coming. “Back, back” he shouted as he threw himself behind a pile of stones. Azkun did not dodge. It was dragon fire. The great jaws opened and blue flame gushed forth. Tenari threw herself in front of Azkun as fire engulfed them both, knocking them to the ground. Azkun screamed as pain sizzled along one arm and hot air blasted across his face. One of his boots caught fire.
For a moment thick, black smoke engulfed them. Azkun realised that Tenari’s clothes were alight. He rolled her over to smother the fire, wincing with the pain of his arm when he used it. His mind raced. He was burned! He was burned by dragon fire! He hauled Tenari through the thinning smoke, coughing and gagging at the acrid fumes, to where Althak had sheltered from the flames. He could see his arm. It was blackened and stinging. His boot was still smoking. Althak pulled them down behind the rubble. He was black with soot but unharmed. He coughed.
“Once more, my friend.” He climbed to his feet and tensed for another charge. Just then the smoke cleared enough for them to see. The dragon reached down with its jaws and, almost casually, nipped off Thalissa’s head. Her body collapsed in a gruesome death twitch and gushed blood.
Instantly Althak switched from charge to flight. He pulled the others to their feet and forced them across the great hall towards the small archway that led to the steps. Althak measured that journey in heartbeats. Any instant they could expect to feel the blast of flame or the slash of claws. There was no rubble on the floor here, nothing to hide behind. But the dragon was busy with Thalissa’s body. It was a high price to pay for their escape. They reached the arch safely, Althak was relieved to see that it was far too small for a dragon to pass through, and flung themselves down the steps until the gloom covered them. Then they collapsed in the exhaustion of fear and lay panting like frightened game. All they could hear were sounds of the dragon eating and their own breathing. Azkun sobbed quietly.
Presently Althak stood up and removed the water bottle from his belt.
Although he could not see well in the shadows he knew Tenari had received the full force of the dragon fire to protect Azkun. He shook his head as he examined her in the dim light from the top of the stairs. Her robe was in tatters, blackened and burnt away and her skin was covered with soot. He splashed water on the blackest parts of her back but it was difficult to see how badly she had been hurt. She seemed as oblivious to her pain as she was to everything else except Azkun. He pulled off his cloak and fastened it about her shoulders for she was no longer covered properly by her burned robe.
Azkun was still sobbing. He clutched at his arm and even in the poor light Althak could see a red weal along the black. He splashed water onto it, which made Azkun wince with fright. Then they sat silent for a while longer. Azkun let out a low moan and stopped sobbing. The dragon was quiet.
“We should go,” whispered Althak.
“Cannot… cannot. No light,” muttered Azkun. “They have eaten my mother.”
“Azkun, we had light when we came up. You made it. You must have. We need light again.” He spoke slowly and patiently as if instructing a small child.
“No,” moaned Azkun, still clutching his arm. “That cannot be. Is power my own to withhold or use? Then I killed Hrangil, I did not heal him. I could have saved Grath, I could have-” But as he spoke the globe of light flickered into existence above his head. “No!” he shouted, climbing to his feet and reaching for the light. But it danced away from his hands, just out of his reach. “Damn you!” he cried, shaking his injured arm towards the top of the stairs. “Do not taunt me! Be gods or beasts, but you cannot he both!” He swayed on his feet and Althak steadied him as he muttered plaintively, “They ate my mother. I thought they would forgive me.”
“Come,” said Althak, and they started their long climb down.
Chapter 34: Secrets Disclosed
That Vorish knew should not have surprised Menish. He was used to the Emperor’s knack for finding out things. Besides, Thalissa herself had had plenty of opportunity to tell him. He remembered the words they had exchanged when he had taken Vorish from her, the offers she had made then. That had been at least half the reason he had left her for Thealum. At eight years old Vorish would have absorbed what they had said, would have deduced Menish’s infidelity and, like the Keeper, would have realised what Menish himself had not known then.
But Adhara? Who had told her?
“You told me yourself, my love,” she said. “When you returned from Relanor, trying to bring sanity to Sinalth’s Invaders, I knew something had happened. I knew enough about the Vorthenki to guess what it was. On your second journey you returned with Vorish. He has your eyes.”
She had known all this time? For the moment no one else in the room mattered to Menish except Adhara.
“I was drugged or drunk, and Thalissa was determined to command my favour. It was only the once. I never let her near me again. And I didn't know about Vorish. I only discovered that when we brought Azkun from Atonir. The Keeper of Am-Goluz told me when I asked him about Azkun.”
“Did you really not know, Menish?” Vorish was astonished. “Then why have you always treated me like a son?”
Adhara answered for him. She stepped forward and grasped Menish’s hands.
“He treated you like a son for the same reason he treated Althak like a son, for the same reason he treats Neathy like a daughter, for the same reason he brought Keashil and Olcish to Meyathal.” She had spoken to Vorish but her eyes were on Menish. “You are trying to ask forgiveness. I forgave you years ago. Like Vorish, I assumed you knew he is your son, but it makes no difference. This crime is cold. The woman has been dead for years.”
Menish could have wept with relief and love for her. She could say this before the clan council, who were looking embarrassed and wondering if they should excuse themselves, even before Mara who accused him. But her last remark froze his answer on his tongue. Of course, she thought Thalissa was dead. Did it matter? Should he tell her?
But he would have no more secrets. He was tired of secrets.
“Thalissa is alive. I met her in Lianar not long after we found Azkun.”
“You… saw her? But she was thrown into the Chasm!” She did not ask the question she wanted to ask. Was she afraid of the answer?
“She was lowered into the Chasm to prolong her agony. While there she had a child. That child was Azkun. In Lianar I met her on the dockside, we exchanged a few bitter words. But she still lives.”
“She still lives,” Adhara’s mouth became firm, her forgiveness was suddenly not so warm. Menish wished he had not told her. Could she only forgive him if Thalissa was dead?
“Not in Lianar,” said Vorish. “She travelled south after she saw Menish. She stayed in Atonir for a short time, but she did not meet me, or realise that her son is the Emperor. I sent her with Azkun and Althak.”
“To the dragon isle?”
Vorish shrugged.
“She wasn't happy in Atonir, she wanted to be with Azkun and Tenari.”
“You sent her to her death, then?” said Adhara. Menish could see she was partly relieved at this, and partly disturbed that Vorish could do this to his mother.
“She once offered to kill me so that Menish would not leave her to Thealum. You are my mother, Adhara.”
Adhara smiled, sniffed and rubbed at one of her eyes.
“I think that perhaps we should resume this council after our royal family has become more used to the idea,” said Barvolin, at last overcoming his desire to be inconspicuous and trying to excuse the rest of them from a private discussion.