Dragon Stones (58 page)

"Just thinking about my family," Ponn said.  "I've been away too long.  They must wonder what has become of me."

"You'll return to them soon," Diasa said.

"Will I?"  Ponn sighed.  "I wonder."

"You've survived being marooned on an island, the fall of Astilan, breaking into a castle, an alchemical explosion, falling into a river, and being shot with a crossbow.  You may not think you're lucky, but
I
do
."

"Have a care," he said.  "You tempt my fate."

"We make our own fates."

"Tolaria might disagree with you."

"No.  She would tell you that nothing is graven in stone, and even the most explicit prophecy may not come to pass."

"Like your mother's prophecy about the stones?"

"That wasn't a prophecy," Diasa said.  "That was a vision."

"What's the difference?"

After a moment, she answered:  "It's the difference between what you see, and what you dream."

Ponn wasn't sure what to make of that, and said so.

Diasa shrugged.  "It's something my mother used to say.  It never made much sense to me either.  I suppose that a vision is a glimpse of events occurring elsewhere, and a prophecy is a glimpse into events that are more likely to happen than not."

"Then what Adaran described was a prophecy, wasn't it?  The events hadn't come to pass yet when the headmistress told him about it."

"Perhaps so."  Diasa poked the remnants of the fire with a stick, stirring up a few cinders but little flame.  "I never could comprehend much of what she tried to tell me.  I'm sure I was a disappointment to her; she probably would rather have had a daughter like Tolaria."

"You had to follow your own trail," Ponn said.  "I'm sure she understood that."

Diasa only grunted.

"Where will you go when this is over?"

She shrugged.  "I don't know.  Flaurent is probably half-buried under salt and dust by now.  It's coming into the windy season; the Withered Ones always had to spend extra time clearing dunes from the walls this time of year."  She shook her head.  "You at least have a home and a family to return to.  The rest of us have nothing."

"You're certainly feeling melancholy," Ponn said.  "If I didn't know better, I would say you'd been drinking."

"Perhaps I should start," she said.

A sudden rush of wind caused the bonfire to dance and shimmy, kicking up a swirl of shriveled leaves, small twigs, grit and pebbles.  That must be T'Sian, returning from her evening hunt, or wherever it was that she had gone.  After a little while she came within range of the firelight, once again wearing her human disguise.

"Welcome back," Diasa said.

The dragon acknowledged her greeting with a nod, then stepped over to Ponn.  "You are awake," she said.

"Yes."

"You are supposed to sleep and heal."

"I've slept enough.  Diasa says I'll be fine."

"Why not ask the oracle?"

"Ponn's wound is not life-threatening," Diasa said.  "I think Tolaria wearies of being made to do parlor tricks."

T'Sian cocked her head.  "What is a parlor trick?"

Suddenly the night lit up around them, the moonlight overwhelmed, all the colors bleached to pale by a harsh white flare hovering high above the ground.  The brilliant flame burned silently, steadily, like a cold sun lowered to the earth.  Prehn stirred in Ponn's arms, opened her eyes, began to cry.

Diasa was already on her feet, sword drawn.  "
This
is a parlor trick," she said.

A hoarse whisper:  "It's Orioke."

Ponn looked to his left.  Adaran and Tolaria had awakened; the oracle sat up, squinting in the glare.  Adaran stayed on his side, shading his eyes with his good hand.  "The wizard is here?" Ponn asked.

"I've seen this magic before."

"So have I," Diasa said.  "I knew Wert couldn't delay him for long."

"
Greetings, my friends.
"

The voice, like reeds scratching on paper, seemed to come from the light itself.  T'Sian moved to stand beneath it, staring directly into it, eyes unblinking.  "Show yourself, wizard, so that I may kill you."

"
A tempting request, but one I must decline.
"

"Where is Deliban?" Diasa said.  "Have you misplaced it so soon after stealing it from us?"

"
The earth creature is busy elsewhere
,
" Orioke said.  "
You may as well stop waving your sword around.  I did not come to fight, but to ask a question.
"

"What question?" Tolaria said.

"
It's not for you.  It's for the dragon.
"

T'Sian said:  "What question could you possibly ask that I would deign to answer?"

"
Merely this:  
You have been searching with such fury for the ones who killed your hatchlings
,
and yet when one of the
killers is in your midst, you do nothing.  So tell me, dragon:  Why does Adaran still live?
"

And the light went out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

As the night came rushing back in to fill the void left by the light's disappearance, T'Sian turned to the others.  "Is this true?" she demanded.  No one answered.  Tolaria did not feel the compulsion to respond, because the question had not been explicitly directed at her.  But she was sure the next one would be.  And, indeed, the dragon stepped forward, closer to the light, and pointed a long finger at Tolaria.  "You.  Oracle, who cannot lie.  Is it true, what the wizard said?"

"Yes."

The finger swiveled toward Adaran, who looked as if he would very much like to be somewhere, anywhere, else.  "This one helped to kill my young?"

"Yes."

The dragon's other fingers unfurled one by one, forming hands that looked like the talons of a great bird.  She advanced toward the footpad, until Ponn moved to stand in her way.  She towered over him, and yet she stopped, staring down at him with incredulity.  "Pyodor Ponn," she said, "step aside."

"T'Sian, wait," Ponn said.  "Think.  You are doing exactly what the wizard wants you to."

"I am doing what
I
want to do.
"

"You did not come here to fight a wounded, crippled man."

She gave Adaran a reptilian look of utter contempt.  "It will hardly be a fight."

Tolaria shot a pleading look at Diasa, but the woman stood back, impassive, watching.  She obviously had no intention of intervening, and pretended not to notice Tolaria's gaze.

"T'Sian, please … he saved my daughter."

"And you rescued him from the castle, at serious cost to yourself.  You have more than settled your debt with him.  Now I will settle mine."

Ponn took a deep breath.  "I cannot let you do this."

"He's not worth it, Ponn," Diasa said quietly.  "I told you he was a scoundrel."

T'Sian wheeled on her.  "You knew this?" she demanded.

"Adaran let it slip a little while ago, before Ponn came back.  I've had my suspicions, but—"

"And you, oracle?"  T'Sian glared down at Tolaria.  "You knew as well.  When I asked you if it was true, you said yes.  You did not need your so-called visions to tell you that."

"I found out when Diasa did."

"And you both planned to say nothing, to protect your fellow human.  It fell to the
wizard
—my
enemy
—to
speak the truth!"

"He only told you so that you would do this," Ponn said.  "He is trying to make you turn on us."

"Turn on
you
?  
Y
ou
are turning on
me
!
 Keeping secrets.  Helping a man who killed my babies.  What about you, Ponn?  Did you know?"

"No."

"But you must have suspected.  You are not a fool.  How would he have been in the position to rescue your daughter but that he was already there, among those who had taken her?"

"I … should have suspected, yes.  But I was so happy to have Prehn back—"

"So happy to have her back.  But I will not experience such a reunion, will I, Pyodor Ponn?  
Because of him!
"

Ponn hesitated. Tolaria could imagine what he was thinking:  He and T'Sian had been companions.  She had saved his life.  Her rage was completely justified.  But Adaran had saved Ponn's daughter, and he could not let the dragon kill him.

"You know that I could
make
you move," T'Sian said.

"Yes," Ponn said.

"You know that if you were any of the others, I would have killed you already."

"Yes."

The two of them stood there, staring at each other, neither saying a word; then an unexpected voice broke the silence.

"Stand aside, Ponn, and let the dragon do what she must," Adaran said.  "I've earned her vengeance."

Diasa said:  "The footpad is right, for once."

"But we can't just—"  Tolaria broke off, feeling something impinging on her, a presence nearby, poking at her mind.  The last time she had felt something like this, the wizard had been about to force a prophecy out of her, making her a puppet, trying to impress the twins.  It had to be him; but what was he doing now?

The others were still speaking but she could hardly hear them anymore.  Orioke had gummed up her ears, as if he were standing behind her with his fingers in them.  Now she understood why he had thrown that light up in their midst, why he had revealed Adaran's role in the slaughter of T'Sian's hatchlings.  Eliminating the thief wasn't really his goal; he had stirred up this mischief as a distraction, so that he could move against
her
.

She tried to speak, to cry a warning; but it was too late, her voice was no longer her own.  Orioke had taken it away.

Tolaria slumped sideways into the grass, as the night came down around her.

Adaran didn't know what Ponn thought he was doing.  Did he believe he could reason with the dragon?  Did he think she would say he was right, there had been enough death, she was going to try forgiveness instead?  Hardly.  She would kill him, cast his maimed body aside, and then come to Adaran and finish the job Dunshandrin's men had started.  There would be no escape this time.  He couldn't run, couldn't jump, couldn't hide.  And so he spoke up, told Ponn to move, thinking that in some way this might make up for what he had done; and the astonished looks that his words drew told him what the others thought of him.

"It's all right," Adaran said, when Ponn hesitated.  "You must stand aside."

Moving his gaze between Adaran and T'Sian, Ponn stepped out of the way, leaving the thief to face the dragon.

"Stand up, man," T'Sian said.

He picked up the branch Diasa had used as a poker and, holding it like a cane, began struggling to rise.  Ponn moved to assist him, but T'Sian checked him with a raised arm and curt command:  "No.  He will do it on his own."

Adaran finally gained his feet.  The dragon stepped forward, looking him up and down.  Although they were about the same height, T'Sian was much more solidly built than he was.  She could pick him up and break him over her knee if she wanted to, although he expected that his death would come a different way.

"Look at you," T'Sian said.  She began pacing, walking in a slow circle around him.  Adaran stood still; if she wanted to inspect him from every side, he would let her.  "Such a little man.  How could you kill my hatchlings?"

"It wasn't just me," Adaran said.

"I know that.  How many?"

"Five."

"What skills have you, that Dunshandrin sought you out?"

"I get in and out of places.  I rigged up the ropes and hooks that we used to lower ourselves into your lair."

"I saw no such devices."

"We removed them when we left."

"And what happened when you entered my home?"

"We attacked the little dragons.  Orioke cast a spell to put them to sleep, but it only made them groggy."

"Of course.  My hatchlings were not kittens, ready to nap at the whim of a sorcerer.  Tell me how they fought."

Why did she want to know this?  "They used claws, tails, a little bit of fire.  They killed a man named Kryback, a mercenary from Madroval.  I knew him; he was very good with weapons."

"Yes, I found him where you left him," T'Sian said.  "He obviously meant a great deal to you."

Sarcasm?  "I didn't know him well," he said.  Diasa rolled her eyes.