It grew extremely quiet. I looked at the others to see if any of them understood what the Slave-Master had intended as a revelation. None of us understood the deeper meaning of what he said despite agreeing that lizards and snakes might be related to dragons. Instead of talking or asking another question, I remained quiet and let the implications swirl around in my mind while hoping to see his meaning.
He seemed to be saying that some varieties of snakes and lizards in the desert reproducing was the key to it all. How that meant anything or helped us in any possible way eluded me.
Anna said softly, “The dragon is like them. It can self-reproduce.”
Maybe, I agreed. However, even if true, so what? Other than having more problems with more mages, I didn’t see how that mattered, and I resented a little girl interrupting an important conversation. “So?”
Anna nodded at the Slave-Master. He nodded in return, obviously giving her permission to continue. She said, “It matters because there is only one dragon. The person who controls that one dragon can rule all the mages and sorceresses and thus all others. That person controls the eggs that power the Waystones and shares the Essence to all around it for magic. The Young Mage does not fear the last dragon; he fears that dozens or hundreds of eggs will hatch into dragons—and if that happens his power will be challenged by other mages.”
“His power is still stronger,” Kendra said. “Stronger than any mage we’ve ever heard of.”
The Slave-Master pointed a fat finger at Anna and waggled it, telling her to continue since she was doing so well in educating the adults around the campfire.
She said, “Yes, he is stronger than any other. But, don’t you see? While he is stronger than any single mage, is he stronger than two or five mages working together? If they band together and have their own dragons, they can easily defeat him. He knows that.”
I was beginning to understand from the words of a child. The Young Mage was powerful while he controlled the eggs and the last dragon. None could, or would, challenge him. However, Kendra had control of the dragon—and any future eggs it laid, not him.
The eggs in the Waystones would eventually lose their power. If that took a year, or ten, or a hundred, it would happen, and there would be none to replace them. Some might already be losing power because we didn’t know how long they lasted, how many there were, or when they had last been replaced. As each failed or died, the interconnected network the mages used for travel and information ceased to exist, one Waystone at a time.
That travel was the ultimate key to the mage’s power and wealth. It was not the travel itself, but the flow of information across great distances. If the crops failed in one kingdom, food would bring higher prices when shipped there and those merchants sending it would charge more and become wealthy. If an army marched on another kingdom, how much would a king pay in return for that information, as well as knowing when to expect the attack and how large the invading army was?
It was easy to imagine circumstances where the instantaneous flow of information was more valuable than gold. No wonder all palaces had a mage or two in residence. What king would refuse that advantage? Even my own father benefited from the mages, and there were usually two or three in residence at Crestfallen.
All of that pointed to the conclusion the Young Mage needed the last dragon. He would again chain it on a mountaintop in an obscure kingdom again, such as it had been in Dire and he would hide it from the world. Or, if he couldn’t take Kendra’s dragon there, he needed that one dead as he set in place the circumstances for an egg to hatch and replace it. He wanted only one dragon in the world, one he controlled to lay the eggs to power the Waystones and maintain his power.
We all started to understand the importance of the Slave-Master’s words at about the same time. Kendra said, “This situation was not put into place by the Young Mage. It was started long before he existed.”
“The Waystones are so old the carvings on the sides have eroded,” Damon said. “There may have been dozens of mages in a generational line who controlled the last dragon and her eggs.”
Flier said, “If a dragon died in the past, an egg was allowed to hatch to replace her and the cycle repeated.”
I sat in wonder at the insights being revealed. My eyes went to the Slave-Master and found him chuckling so hard his large belly jiggled.
Movement at the edge of the dim light the campfire caught our attention, as footsteps sounded. As one, we leaped to our feet, drawing our weapons and expecting the worst.
Instead, a single figure shuffled into the view.
“Avery!” I shouted while rushing to help him remain on his feet.
He slumped to his knees in exhaustion and hissed, “There is news.”
More sounds came from the desert behind him, and a pair of Kaon guards strode into the light. Behind them, another figure moved, limping as if wounded in one leg. He lifted his head to look at us.
“Will?” I gasped.
He looked away from me, to Flier. “Your family lives.”
I rushed to help bind his leg and wipe away dried blood. “What are you doing here?”
“Flier’s people needed help. When Princess Elizabeth was taken, I was trying to rescue them.”
One of the Kaon warriors genuflected and spoke to the Slave-Master. His voice rang loud in the night air, “It is done as you instructed, master. The heir apparent who calls himself Fielding is in Vin and has used his singing sword to begin the revolt. The city is now in his hands. The man called Slacker has joined with him, and all the other rebels in the desert and the cities support him. His army is growing daily. Already, Fielding has sent a small army across the pass to capture Trager.”
“You are responsible for this?” I demanded of the Slave-Master. “And you know the secret of his sword?”
“And yours,” The shaking of his belly increased, and he laughed until tears flowed.
I shouted, “The Young Mage is still in Kaon. We have won nothing.”
“True,” the Slave-Master said, his humor evaporating.
“You’ve held out on us,” I continued.
“Again, true,” he repeated.
“Do you have a plan for defeating the Young Mage?” My hoarse voice cracked at the end.
“No. I am only a poor slaver who defers to a Princess from another land for his future endeavors. Where she leads, I’ll gladly follow.”
“I won’t quit until the Young Mage is dead.”
“I know that.”
I looked him in the eye and ignored his slightly amused expression. “I have a question for you.”
“Ask me anything,” he said.
“Have you ever signed a treaty before? I sailed across the sea to negotiate a treaty for my father and the people of Dire. I hate to not complete my original task. Killing the Young Mage is a separate issue. Have you?”
“In this proposed treaty, will you grant me exclusive rights to buy and sell slaves in Dire?”
“No.”
“I’ll sign it anyhow.”
When I finally covered myself with an extra blanket and tried to fall asleep, the Slave-Master was still chuckling to himself. Well, let him laugh. After defeating the Young Mage, I might make him the ruler of Kaon and put that treaty in front of him to sign. All I knew was that we now understood what and why we fought, and there were friends surrounding me to help. The Young Mage was going to die.
Yes, there will be another book in the series. The story is not finished.