"Her youth did not excuse her foolishness," said the Regent, glaring down his narrow nose.

Comonot did not acknowledge the comment; he was speaking only to Glisselda. "She was already Queen in her own right. Already a mother. She climbed Halfheart Pa.s.s through a raging snowstorm with only two goat-girls from Dewcomb's Outpost to guide her. I had a.s.sumed no rational being would brave that kind of weather, so I was not even in my saarantras to greet her. My scouts brought her into our cavern, this tiny, half-frozen girl, snow whirling around her. We all stared at her, not sure what to think, until she threw back her fur-lined hood and unwrapped the woolen shawl from over her face. She looked me in the eye, and I knew."

There was a long pause until Glisselda said, "Knew what, Ardmagar?"

"That I had met my match," said Comonot, his face sharp, remembering.

Glisselda nodded at the Ardmagar, a small smile on her lips. She held a hand out to Kiggs, who pa.s.sed her the folded parchment. "We received a letter this morning. Amba.s.sador Fulda, would you please read it aloud?"

The amba.s.sador fished a pair of spectacles out of his vest and read: We the undersigned have seized the Kerama as of yesterday. We proclaim ourselves rightful rulers of the Tanamoot, all its lands and armies, until we are in turn removed by force.

The traitor Comonot yet lives. He is wanted for crimes against dragonkind, including but not limited to: making treaties and alliances against the will of the Ker, detrimental to our values and way of life; indulging in excessive emotionality; fraternizing with humans; indulging deviants; seeking to alter our fundamental dragon nature and make us more human-like.

We demand his immediate return to the Tanamoot. Failure to comply will be tantamount to an act of war. Recognize, Goreddis, that you are in no position to fight. We expect you to act in accordance with your interests. You have three days.

"It's signed by ten generals," said Amba.s.sador Fulda, refolding the parchment.

Comonot opened his mouth, but Glisselda silenced him with a gesture. "The dragon Imlann, as my governess, taught me that Goredd is mighty and the dragons are weak and demoralized. I believed it until I saw for myself how dragons fight. Orma destroyed the Wolfstoot Bridge and sheared off the top of St. Gobnait's; where Imlann fell, an entire city block burned. How much worse if they'd been fighting us and not each other? The dracomachia is a shambles. I fear the cabal is right: we would not last alone against dragons. As much as I admire you, Ardmagar, you're going to have to persuade me not to give you back."

She turned to Fulda. "Amba.s.sador, will dragonkind stand with their Ardmagar?"

Fulda pursed his lips, thinking. "It's not a legal succession while Comonot lives. There may be those who reject the cabal for that reason alone, but I suspect the older generation will largely be in sympathy with their goals."

"I dispute that," said the Ardmagar.

"The younger generation," Fulda said, pressing on, "will likely stand firm in favor of the peace. This could turn into an inter-generational war."

"Infanta!" said the Regent of Samsam, shaking a bony finger as if to scold her. "Surely you have no intention of giving this creature political asylum? It was degrading enough that your n.o.ble grandmother-St. Eustace blindly pa.s.s her by-should have negotiated with it. Do not show it mercy when its own kind wants it dead."

"You would be inserting your country-and the unwilling Southlands with you-into a dragon civil war," drawled Count Pesavolta, drumming his fingers on his ample gut.

"If I may," interjected my father. "The treaty contains a clause forbidding Goredd from interfering in internal dragon affairs. We could not meddle in a civil war."

"You've tied our hands, Ardmagar," said Glisselda, her pretty little mouth curling sardonically. "We would have to break your own treaty to save you."

"We may have to break the treaty to save the treaty," said the Ardmagar.

Glisselda turned to Ninys and Samsam. "You wish Comonot returned. I may decide I cannot do that. If it comes to war between Goredd and the dragons, can I rely on you? If not for help, then at least not to take arms against us opportunistically?"

The Regent of Samsam looked pale and peevish; Count Pesavolta hemmed and hawed. Each finally muttered something close to, if not exactly, yes.

"Goredd's treaty with Ninys and Samsam banished knights across the Southlands," continued Glisselda, her blue eyes cold and sternly fixed upon them. "I will not risk war unless we are free to revive the dracomachia. It would mean renegotiating that agreement."

"Your Highness," said my father, "many of the Samsamese and Ninysh knights were rumored to have fled to Fort Oversea, on the isle of Paola. Their dracomachia may be in healthier condition than ours. Altering the treaty could allow the knights of all three nations to work together."

The princess nodded thoughtfully. "I'd want your help drafting this doc.u.ment."

"It would be my honor," said my father, bowing.

The Regent of Samsam sat up straighter, his skinny neck extending like a vulture's. "If it means we might reinstate our valiant exiles, perhaps Samsam would be willing to negotiate some sort of nonaggression pact."

"Ninys would never side with dragons against Goredd," Count Pesavolta announced. "We stand behind you, of course!"

Glisselda gave an arch nod. Kiggs, behind her, had narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Ninys and Samsam would have squirmed in their seats had they realized what intense scrutiny would be upon them.

"This brings me finally to you," said the princess, indicating us half-dragons with an elegant gesture. "We have here a fearless boy who grappled a dragon in his own version of dracomachia, a man who can design sophisticated engines of war-"

"And musical instruments," mumbled Lars.

"-a woman who can tell the near future with her stomach, and another who may be able to find me more people of extraordinary talent." Glisselda smiled warmly at me. "At least, you mentioned there are more. Are they all so talented?"

I almost said I didn't know, but it occurred to me suddenly that I might. If I'd thought about it, I'd have known what to expect from these first three: Abdo was always climbing and balancing; Lars built gazebos and bridges; Dame Okra pulled up weeds before they had a chance to sprout. Every one of my grotesques engaged in idiosyncratic behaviors. Pelican Man stared at the stars. Pandowdy was a monster in his own right. Jannoula-if I ever dared to look for her again-could climb right into my mind, but maybe not just mine.

"I think we would be something formidable, all together," I said. "And I think I could find the rest, if I went looking. I've wanted to find them."

"Do it," said Glisselda. "Whatever you need-horses, guards, money-speak to Lucian, and Lucian will make it so." She nodded to her cousin; he nodded back, although he avoided looking in my direction.

The Regent could stand it no longer. "Your pardon, Highness, but who are these people? I know Count Pesavolta's amba.s.sadress, but the rest? A highland lout, a Porphyrian child, and this ... this woman-"

"My daughter Seraphina," said Papa, his face hard.

"Oh, that explains everything!" cried the Regent. "Princess? What's going on?"

Princess Glisselda opened her mouth, but no words came out.

In that moment of hesitation, I realized she was embarra.s.sed-for me, for all of us. We were the punch line of a hundred dirty jokes. How could she speak of such disgusting things to the leader of a foreign land?

I rose, ready to spare her the mortification. My father had the same idea and found his voice first: "I married a dragon. My daughter, whom I love, is half dragon."

"Papa!" I cried, terrified for him, grateful, sad, and proud.

"Infanta!" sputtered the Regent, leaping to his feet. "By St. Vitt, these are unnatural abominations. Soulless beasts!"

Count Pesavolta snorted. "I can't believe you were worried about our loyalty but are ready to trust these things. How can you ever be sure which side they will take, dragon or human? My amba.s.sadress already seems determined to choose Goredd over Ninys. Surely this is only the first wave of her treachery?"

"I choose what's right," snarled Dame Okra, "as I expect you will too, sir."

Comonot turned to Ninys and Samsam, his eyes bright but his voice filled with calm authority: "Can you not see that it's no longer a question of dragon versus human? The division now is between those who think this peace is worth preserving and those who would keep us at war until one side or the other is destroyed.

"There are dragons who see the good of the treaty. They will join us. The young have been raised with peaceful ideals; they won't sympathize with these grizzled generals who want their h.o.a.rds and their hunting grounds back."

He turned toward Glisselda and gestured toward the sky. "Something we dragons have learned from you is that we are stronger together. We need not take on the entire world alone. Let us stand together now for the peace."

Princess Glisselda rose, stepped around the great oaken desk, and embraced Comonot, removing all doubt. She would not turn him over to his generals. We would be going to war for peace.

The meeting adjourned; the Regent and Count Pesavolta couldn't quit the room fast enough. Glisselda and Kiggs already had their heads together, planning how best to address the council at noon. The princess smiled sheepishly at her cousin. "You were right: Ninys and Samsam took it poorly. I hoped to be efficient, but I should have met with everyone separately. Gloat, if you must."

"Not at all," said Kiggs gently. "Instinct did not fail you. They'd have learned of the half-dragons eventually and accused us of duplicity. They'll get over it."

I stared at the back of the prince's neck as if it could reveal whether he himself was used to the idea yet. If his refusal to look at me was any indication, the answer was no. I tore myself away and left them to their planning.

My father waited for me in the corridor, his arms crossed and his eyes anxious. He held out a hand when he saw me. I took it, and we stood in silence.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "I have lived in this prison so long, I ... I suddenly found I couldn't do it anymore."

I squeezed his hand and let go. "You only did what I was about to. What now? There must be repercussions within the lawyers' guild for lawyers who break the law." He had a wife and four other children to support; I could not bring myself to point that out.

He smiled mirthlessly. "I've been preparing my case for sixteen years."

"Excuse me," said a voice to my left, and we turned to see Comonot standing there. He cleared his throat and ran a jeweled hand over his jowls. "You are-were-the human involved with the nameless ... that is, with Linn, daughter of Imlann?"

Papa bowed stiffly.

Comonot stepped closer, cautious as a cat. "She left her home, her people, her studies, everything. For you." He touched my father's face with his thick fingers: the left cheek, the right, the nose and chin. My father endured it stonily.

"What are you?" said the Ardmagar, an unexpected roughness in his voice. "Not a depraved maniac. You are known in the north as a dispa.s.sionate interpreter of the treaty-you realize that? You've defended dragons in court when no one else would do it; don't imagine we haven't noticed. And yet it was you who lured our daughter away."

"I did not know," said my father hoa.r.s.ely.

"No, but she knew." Comonot laid a hand atop my father's balding head, mystified. "What did she see? And why can't I see it?"

Papa extricated himself, bowed, and set off down the hall. For a fleeting instant, in the sad curve of his shoulders, I saw what Comonot could not: the core of decency; the weight he had carried so long; the endless struggle to do right in the wake of this irreversible wrong; the grieving husband and frightened father; the author of all those love songs. For the first time, I understood.

Comonot seemed unfazed by my father's hasty retreat. He took my arm and whispered in my ear breathily, like a small child: "Your uncle is at the seminary infirmary."

I goggled at him. "He transformed?"

The Ardmagar shrugged. "He was adamant that no saar physician come near him; he seems to believe they'd excise him on the spot. He'll be gone tomorrow in any case."

I pulled away from him. "Because Basind will take him away to have his brain pruned?"

Comonot licked his thick lips, as if he needed to taste my bitterness to understand it. "Not at all. I'm pardoning Orma-not that the Censors will obey the edicts of an exiled Ardmagar. At midnight Eskar squirrels him away, and even I don't know where. It may be a very long time before you see him again."

"Don't tell me you're indulging emotional deviants!"

His pointed gaze held an intelligence I had not appreciated before. He said, "Indulging, no, but perhaps comprehending the hidden complexities better. I thought I knew which things we dragons should learn and which were unnecessary, but I see now that my opinions had calcified. I was as set in my thinking as the crusty old generals who've stolen my country."

He reached for my hand, lifted it, and clapped it to the side of his neck. I tried to pull away, but he held firm and said: "Let this signify my submission to your tutelage, since I doubt you would agree to bite the back of my neck. You are my teacher. I will listen, and I will try to learn."

"I will try to be worthy of your reverence," I said, my mother's words coming to me from the depths of the memory box. I felt compelled to add my own: "And I will try to sympathize with your efforts, even when you fail."

"Well put," he said, releasing me. "Now go. Tell your uncle you love him. You do love him, don't you?"

"Yes," I said, suddenly hoa.r.s.e.

"Go. And Seraphina," he called after me, "I'm sorry about your mother. I believe I am." He gestured toward his stomach. "There, yes? That's where one feels it?"

I gave him full courtesy and hurried away.

An aged monk led me to the infirmary. "He's got the place to himself. Once the other invalids learned there was a dragon coming, they miraculously got well! The lame could walk and the blind decided they didn't really need to see. He's a panacea."

I thanked the man and entered quietly in case my uncle was sleeping. At the far end of the ward, beside the only window, he lay propped up by pillows, talking to Eskar. I drew closer and realized they weren't talking, exactly. Each raised a hand toward the other, touching just the fingertips together; they took turns running their fingertips down the other's palm.

I cleared my throat. Eskar rose, stone-faced and dignified. "Sorry!" I said, unsure why I was apologizing. It wasn't as though I'd caught them doing something naughty.

Except maybe I had, from a dragon's viewpoint. I clamped my mouth shut to prevent giggling. Eskar did not look like she would forgive giggling.

I said, "I wish to speak to my uncle before you take him away. Thank you for helping him."

She stood aside but showed no inclination to leave until Orma said: "Eskar, go. Come back later." She nodded curtly, drawing her cloak around her, and left.

I looked askance at him. "What were you two-"

"Stimulating cortical nerve responses," said my uncle, smiling eerily. The monks evidently had him on something for the pain. He seemed loose in the middle and soft around the edges. His right arm was wrapped and splinted; his jawline was mottled with white, what pa.s.ses for bruising when you've got silver blood. I could not see where he'd been burned. His head lolled against the pillows. "She is rather majestic in her rightful shape. I'd forgotten. It's been years. She was Linn's agemate, you know. Used to come over to my mother's nest to gut aurochs."

"Do we trust her?" I said, hating to bring it up when he seemed so unconcerned. "She was responsible for Zeyd and Basind. Are you sure-"

"Not for Basind."

I frowned but did not pursue it. I tried to lighten my own mood by teasing him: "So you're off the hook, you devious old deviant."

His brows drew together, and I wondered whether I'd joked a bit too far. It turned out something else bothered him: "I don't know when I'll see you again."

I patted his arm, trying to smile. "At least you'll know me when you do see me."

"It could be a very long time, Seraphina. You could be middle-aged and married and have six children by then."

He was really out of it if he was talking this kind of nonsense. "I may be middle-aged, but no one would marry me, and surely I can't have children. A mule can't. Half-breeds are the end of the line."

He gazed beatifically into s.p.a.ce. "I wonder if that's really true."

"I'm not wondering. I've come to say goodbye and wish you good journey, not speculate about my reproductive capabilities."

"You talk like a dragon," he said dreamily. He was getting drowsier.

I wiped my eyes. "I'm going to miss you so much!"

He rolled his head toward me. "I saved the little boy. He leaped from Imlann's neck to mine, and then I fell into the river, and he danced. He danced right on my belly, and I could feel it."

"He was dancing on you. Of course you could feel it."

"No, not that way. The other way. I wasn't in my saarantras, but I was ... happy, for all that my legs were broken and the river icy. I was happy. And then Eskar landed, and I was grateful. And the sun shone, and I felt sad for my father. And for you."

"Why for me?"

"Because the Censors had finally fooled me, and I was going to be excised, and you would weep."

I was weeping now. "You'll be safe with Eskar."