The Adamantine Palace (31 page)

'I prefer to be on dragonback.'

'I know. But standing here is a reminder of how far the likes of you and I can fall. One missed step and we plunge to our dooms. It's been more than two years since I came here, you know. I couldn't stand like this when I was sick; I would have fallen.'

'Hyram, when we ride we wear harnesses to secure us to the backs of our dragons so we cannot fall, no matter what we do. That is what the dragons do for us. We can be as foolish as we like and our dragons will save us.'

'They didn't save Aliphera. Or Antros.'

'They won't save anyone who refuses to wear a harness.' Shezira turned away. 'If you stand there on the edge for long enough, Hyram, you will fall. Learn from your brother's mistake.'

Set back from the edge was the small pavilion built by Speaker Mehmit some two hundred years ago. The Purple Spur mountains were littered with little follies like this. Most had fallen into ruin, but this one had been popular with the speakers who'd followed him. From the bottom of the cliff it was invisible, and even from above it was almost impossible to spot unless you already knew it was there. It had become a little secret that the speakers had shared, passed down from one to the next. It was also an excellent place to spy on the Diamond Cascade, which had always been a popular place for dragon-lords and dragon-ladies who hungered to be away from the eyes of the palace court.

She went inside. There wasn't much to the pavilion, only a single airy room with open arches instead of windows. At the back were two wide alcoves, both generously piled with luxurious furs and soft cushions. It wasn't hard to guess what the speakers had used those for.

Has he brought Queen Zafir up here? Shezira pursed her lips. Of course he had.

She heard Hyram come in behind her and turned. 'It's good to see you in such good health, Hyram.'

'I can promise you, no one is more pleased than I am.'

'Are you going to marry her?'

That stopped him. For a moment Hyram froze. 'I think Queen Zafir stole the secret of the potions from the Viper to spite him. She knows how I feel about him.'

'Everyone knows how you feel about him.' Shezira cocked her head. 'But I'm not quite sure I understand it.'

'He's poisoning his own father.'

'Is he? Is he really?'

'I am certain of it.' Hyram's brow furrowed. 'Can't you feel it from him? The coldness? He's not human like the rest of it. He's vicious, callous, arrogant, self-obsessed--'

'You could be describing any of us.' She smiled slightly.

'You don't understand, do you?' Hyram shrugged. 'Ask Queen Zafir. She knows exactly what I mean. Maybe she'd be able to explain it better.'

Shezira's smile faded. 'Yes. So are you going to marry her?'

Hyram didn't smile. 'Yes, Shezira, I am.'

'And are you going to name her speaker, so you can carry on in the shadows behind her?'

This time he didn't say anything.

'Does she understand that she has to give up her throne, her crown? Does she have an heir ready to take on those burdens?'

That made him laugh. 'Do you?'

'We have a pact, Hyram. If you name Zafir instead of me, I will challenge her. And you will make a bitter enemy of me. Isn't Jehal enough?'

He looked at her. After a few seconds he turned away.

'I think I shall leave now.' Shezira strode past him back out into the open air. She signalled to the dragon-knights circling high overhead to take her back down to the palace. Almost at once a dragon tipped its wings and almost fell out of the air towards her, landing perfectly on the flat area of rock outside the pavilion. The rider threw down a rope ladder but didn't change position. Shezira frowned. Her riders knew better that that. Whoever it was should have moved aside so that she could take the reins.

When the queen didn't move, the rider lifted her helmet. 'Are you coming up or not, mother?'

Jaslyn. Shezira climbed up to sit behind her daughter.

'I would like to fly Silence back to the palace, please.'

Jaslyn looked at her as though she was mad and didn't move.

Shezira bit back her irritation and buckled herself into the second harness. Jaslyn clucked at Silence, who ambled towards the edge of the cliff and flopped lazily into the air, gliding down over the Diamond Cascade valley, out over the falls and into the immensity of space over the City of Dragons.

'You're upset, mother,' shouted Jaslyn.

Shezira kept her lips tightly pressed together. Upset? Upset?! I'm furious, you stupid girl. More than furious, and you would be too if you knew. If you had any ambition, you'd be seething! There wasn't any point in saying anything to Jaslyn, though. / suppose I should be grateful that she's noticed anything at all.

'Mother, you're making Silence anxious.'

For an instant everything went red. She twitched in the saddle, half of her set on lunging forward to wring Jaslyn's neck, the other half determined to stay in control. Underneath her she felt the dragon twitch too, and lurch suddenly forward.

'Mother!'

Shezira clenched her fists. Jaslyn could tell something was wrong because her dragon could tell something was wrong. That was much more like her daughter.

'Take me straight to the palace,' she snapped.

Jaslyn tipped Silence into a dive. The dragon tucked his wings into his body and simply fell, head first, tail stretched out behind him, towards the palace. They dropped like that, half a mile vertically through the air. The wind was immense. It was impossible to say anything; by the end, as the palace spread out before them, it was almost impossible even to feel anything except the rush of it, and the sharp terror, tightly held in check, that they were going too fast, that they couldn't possibly stop ...

Silence spread out his wings. Shezira pitched forward, helpless as the dragon slowed. She couldn't breathe. She must have blacked out, because one moment there was a crushing weight on her back and everything was grey, and the next the weight was gone, and they were floating down in looping circles, already below the tops of the palace towers. When they landed, Jaslyn threw down the ladder. Shezira climbed down very slowly and carefully. She was shaking. When she got to the bottom, Jaslyn was looking down at her with a big grin on her face.

Shezira didn't smile. 'Hyram is going to name Queen Zafir the next speaker,' she said. 'Why don't you take her for a ride and see if you can crush her to death.'

She turned away and strode towards the Tower of Dusk.

44

Semian

Rider Semian's leg still hurt. On the outside the wound had scarred over and healed weeks ago. Inside, though, it ached. If he tried to run, the ache got worse. Climbing the stairs of the Tower of Dusk left him sweating at the pain. Even if he simply stood still, it slowly grew worse until he had to sit down. The sell-sword's arrow had hit the bone in his thigh. He must have chipped or fractured it, and it was never going to be quite right ever again. He tried not to let it show, but the other dragon-knights were slowly realising that he was a cripple.

He stood stiffly straight as Lady Nastria climbed wearily up from the cellars. She looked very tired, more drained that Semian had ever seen her. A strange smell wafted up from behind her. Something bitter and acrid. Then the sounds started. Soft tearing sounds at first, then bones cracking. He shuddered and tried not to think about it.

At the very moment that Lady Nastria emerged from the cellars, a dragon landed in the yard outside. Semian recognised it at once. Silence. Others opened the door as the queen strode in. She looked angry and shaken.

'Your Holiness.' Lady Nastria stepped out in front of her. 'I have found--'

Queen Shezira waved her away. 'Hyram is going to name Queen Zafir the next speaker.'

Everything in the room stopped. People froze. Whispers died, Everyone stared at the queen.

Shezira cocked her head and looked at Lady Nastria. 'You were saying?'

Nastria bowed deeply. 'One of your knights has betrayed you. He has been bought.'

'Ah.' The queen pressed her lips together. 'Another poison plot, knight-marshal ?'

Lady Nastria nodded. 'I believe so, Your Holiness. I have the poison. I need to take it to the alchemists' redoubt to identify it.'

'Out of the question.' Shezira shook her head emphatically. 'Now that Hyram has betrayed our pact, I need you here. I will challenge his decision, and I need to be sure I have enough dragon-lords behind me. I would not wish this to become a war.' She paused and looked suddenly thoughtful. 'Send Princess Jaslyn. Let her do it.' A slight smile crossed the queen's face. 'Yes. It would be good to get her away from here for the next few days.'

By the door Rider Jostan was already running into the yard, waving and shouting, trying to call back Silence before he and the princess launched into the air. He was too late. Semian watched the knight-marshal's face. She looked far from happy. But whatever her doubts, she bit them back and bowed again.

'Of course, Your Holiness. I would like to send an escort.'

Shezira frowned. 'We still have an encampment in the Spur. It's only a few hours away.'

This time Nastria stood her ground. 'Nonetheless.'

'Very well.' The queen sighed. 'Two riders, no more. Make sure they are replaced from among the encampment.'

Which wouldn't upset any of them, Semian thought ruefully. Since the day he'd been shot by the sell-sword, they hadn't found a trace of the white dragon, nor of the Scales who was with her. Almost certainly they were both long gone, and the search had become a complete waste of time. But no one had dared tell that to the queen, and so they carried on.

The queen wrinkled her nose. 'What is that terrible smell?'

Lady Nastria blanched. 'It's the cellars, Your Holiness. Something has rotted. It will be removed shortly.'

'And the smell with it, I hope.' Shezira strode on, starting up the sweep of spiral stairs that rose through the middle of the Tower of Dusk. 'Someone tell my steward to prepare for guests this evening. And send an invitation. 1 think I should spend some time with my son-in-law and see what sort of impression Lystra has made on him. As soon as he is willing. Marshal, with me. You look like a peasant, and I'll be wanting you at your best. And since we're having guests, that smell had better be gone.'

The queen vanished around the curve of the stairs. Lady Nastria followed, but before she did, she pressed something into Semian's hands. 'Take this to Princess Jaslyn at the eyrie, and be quick about it.'

Semian's mouth fell open. She's a princess. How can I tell her what to do?

'Take Rider Jostan with you. The princess has an eye for both of you.' And then Knight-Marshal Nastria winked at him, which left him even more speechless.

On horseback he raced with Jostan to the Adamantine Eyrie, his leg getting steadily worse all the way. As they arrived, Princess Jaslyn swept out of the eyrie, heading towards one of the queen's carriages.

'Your Highness!' Semian jumped off his horse. In his haste, his leg almost buckled under him. Jaslyn gave him a cold look, certainly not the sort the knight-marshal had been talking about.

'Semian?' She didn't break stride.

'Your Highness, Her Holiness commands you to the stronghold of the alchemists.'

Jaslyn threw back her head and barked a laugh. She opened the carriage door.

'Your Highness! Lady Nastria has executed Rider Tiachas for treason. He is implicated in a plot to poison the queen.'

Jaslyn climbed into the carriage and made to close the door.

'Prince Jehal is also implicated.'

That made her stop. Breathlessly, Semian explained what the queen had ordered them to do. Jaslyn's eyes narrowed.

'So mother is sending me away, is she?' She spat, and storm clouds flashed in her eyes. 'Will this be enough to bury Jehal, do you think, Rider Semian?'

Semian lowered his eyes. 'I cannot say, Your Highness.'

The princess snorted and slowly climbed back out of the carriage. 'Why does she send me, Rider Semian? Why not you? Are you not competent to run errands?'

Semian stayed carefully silent.

'Or you, Jostan?' She barked out another harsh laugh.

'Rider Nastria would have gone herself, Your Highness,' said Jostan quietly. 'It was the queen who ordered otherwise.'

'Of course.' Jaslyn bared her teeth. Without another word, she strode back into the eyrie.

By the time they were flying again, the sun was already sinking towards the horizon. Dragons were nervous in the dark, but Jaslyn drove them on at a merciless speed. They'd all spent months among the valleys of the Purple Spur looking for the white dragon. Even blindfold, Semian could have flown among them and been almost sure to reach his destination.

A dozen dragons and three times as many riders, together with several alchemists and scores of camp followers, were still camped out in the Worldspine. Over the months the tents had gone, replaced by a neat row of log cabins alongside the river. Sections of the forest were still being cleared, making way for cattle, driven up from the nearby valleys in King Valgar's realm.

A bonfire, lit at the highest end of the camp, guided them in. The dragons circled overhead, spitting blasts of fire to announce themselves, and then glided nervously down along the river, dipping the tips of their tails, feeling for the ground. As soon as they touched water, they tipped back, spread their wings and stopped dead in the air, dropping the last twenty feet onto the rocks of the river bed. Rider Semian's dragon lurched sideways and almost toppled over. Semian screwed up his face and closed his eyes, but Matanizkan found her balance and righted herself. By the time Semian dismounted, Princess Jaslyn had gone, vanished into the same cabin that she'd lived in for most of the last two months. Semian and Jostan looked at each other, shrugged and went to bed.

By first light they were in the air again, flying north through King Valgar's realm, skirling the edge of the Worldspine. In the afternoon they reached an apparently makeshift eyrie that was little more than a field with a small fortified manor house. Semian took it to be the provincial home of some bumpkin baron at first, a convenient place to stop and then move on. It didn't take him long to realise that he was wrong. The house was run by the Order of the Scales and contained alchemists, several of them. There were soldiers here too, and not any soldiers, but Adamantine men. The speaker's soldiers.