The Realms of the Gods

by Tamora Pierce

  —Then Diamondflame will answer to the Dragonmeet! Out of my way!— Jewelclaw ordered, wings fanning. —They will be my captives!—

  —No!— Scamp’s voice was shrill, but firm. —She’s the one who’s raising Skysong!—

  —Raising? Or imprisoning?— demanded the adult.

  Numair crossed his arms. “If you know anything about the young members of your race, you know that captivity is not an issue,” he said mildly. “I do not believe there is a cage that could hold Kit—Skysong—if she wished to get out.”

  Leaf, still on Daine’s shoulder, extended its head to chitter angrily at Jewelclaw. After a moment’s pause, Jelly thrust its head through Numair’s collar and chimed in.

  —Must we tell Grandsire you took them from us?— Grizzle asked.

  —The old newt has gone senile!— snarled Jewelclaw. —And I’m not the only one to object! I’m not finished with this!— He took to the air, the back draft of his wings making both humans and dragonets stagger.

  —He is not senile!— Scamp shouted. If Jewelclaw heard, he gave no sign, flying off with hard, rapid wing beats. In a small voice she added, —I bet his mother was a wyvern.—

  —Scamp!— cried Grizzle, shocked.

  —I don’t care. He’s rotten. He’s always rotten. Come on,— she told Daine and Numair. —Before anyone else comes after us.—

  When they reached a bridge that looked as if it had been spun from glass, the two young dragons raced ahead as if it were rough and sturdy wood. Daine and Numair, certain that mere humans might just slide off, were testing the bridge with their feet when crackling filled the air. Grizzle and Scamp halted in midspan, raising themselves up on their hindquarters as Kitten so often did. Jelly retreated inside Numair’s shirt, while Leaf raised its head, looking for the cause of the disturbance.

  —There has been a change.— The voice boomed in their minds and all around them.

  —Grandsire, Jewelclaw came and yelled,— cried Scamp.

  —I know it. He and the other Separatists have been dinning my ears since our guests came through the portal. They have called the Dragonmeet.—

  Scamp shrank inside her skin.

  —Uh-oh,— Grizzle whispered softly.

  —Take them to the amphitheater,— ordered the voice. —Do not enter the floor with them, mind. Sit among our people.— Voice and presence faded from their surroundings.

  —Turn back,— Grizzle told them, dropping to her fours. —At least it isn’t far to go.—

  Daine and Numair exchanged glances. They needed to talk. “May we get a drink?” asked the girl as they stepped off the bridge. “And I need to relieve myself.” The dragons nodded. Daine stepped into a cluster of bushes to empty her bladder, first making sure that her urine wouldn’t run into the water. Finished, she joined Numair. They crouched beside the stream to drink and wash their faces.

  “What do you think?” asked the mage softly.

  “We have to go. We can’t force dragons, only persuade,” she reminded him.

  Scamp and Grizzle looked down at them from the top of the stream bank. —Are you finished?— Grizzle inquired. —It’s a bad idea to keep a Dragonmeet waiting.—

  Grizzle led them uphill from the bridge, following a broad track through knee-high grasses. When they crested the hill, they stood on the uppermost edge of a deep, tiered bowl in the earth. It was too regular to be natural, though grass flourished on the tiers. The floor of the amphitheater and the long ramps that cut it into eighths were bare earth, beaten and gouged by centuries of pressure from dragon paws and talons. At the far end of the giant oval was the only other exception to the grass carpet, a heap of glistening blue stones that was piled above the arena’s rim.

  Each tier was dragon-sized, big enough to contain even the largest of them when they crouched on all fours. A number of dragons were already present. Jewelclaw, for one, was installed near the western ramp. Miniature lightnings still played over his blue-green scales. He glared at them and returned to whatever he was saying to a sixty-foot dragon whose scales had the white glimmer of pearl. As Jewelclaw spoke, bursts of fire—Daine thought of heat lightning—came and went along the bigger dragon’s hide.

  Grizzle saw what the girl was looking at. —The pearly one—that’s Moonwind,— the dragonet explained. —She’s one of the oldest. Her grandson Summerwing was the last dragon to willingly visit the mortal realms. That was before the Dragonmeet put a ban on visits. Um . . . —

  —Stay away from Moonwind,— Scamp said bluntly. —She isn’t even nice to people she likes.—

  “Just how old is this dragon?” asked Numair.

  Scamp cocked her head, blinking. —Fifty-five centuries, I think.—

  —Fifty-nine,— Grizzle corrected her. —Come on. This way.— She started down the ramp, headed toward the arena floor.

  “Your grandsire said you weren’t to come with us,” Daine said quietly, watching the adult dragons. They were huge creatures whose scales blazed with color, some of them twenty or thirty feet longer than Moonwind. The girl didn’t know if their kind formed lynch mobs, but there was enough mob feeling here that she didn’t want to take any chances.

  Busy watching the larger dragons, she didn’t see the seven young ones until they swarmed around the humans, curiosity in their eyes. One was nearly as small as Kitten, still unable to use mind speech. Others were as big, or bigger, than Scamp and Grizzle. Behind them, walking majestically, as befitted their age, came a handful of dragons fifteen and twenty feet long, the length that Kitten’s mother had been—adolescents.

  —We’ll all escort you,— Grizzle announced proudly. The humans were swept along by young dragons, unable to protest, across the beaten earth of the arena floor.

  The price of their escort was a hail of questions about the mortal realms. Daine left Numair to answer. She was counting the adults present—thirty-three thus far—when the air exploded to her right. Where there had been nothing but empty space a moment ago, a sixty-foot black dragon crouched.

  —Aunt Nightbreath!— cried Grizzle. —You’re not supposed to materialize so close to everyone else!—

  —Oh, tut,— the dragon replied, coolly amused. —I haven’t fouled anyone in a materialization since I was your age.— There was more than a hint of wicked glee in her eyes as she added,—I was in a hurry. This may be my only chance to see humans before these two are made into fertilizer for Moonwind’s rosebushes.—

  The young dragons protested her cynicism. Daine reached out instinctively, and Numair took her hand. He kept it as they reached the center of the Dragonmeet floor. Their escort remained with them when they stopped at last.

  Three dragons appeared on the highest part of the arena. The blast of air caused by their arrival made the humans stagger. Daine gulped, and clutched Numair’s hand tighter. All of the newcomers were over a hundred feet long. The biggest, whose scales were a pale, delicate green, was fully a hundred and twenty feet in length.

  —That’s Wingjade,— Scamp whispered, seeing where Daine looked. —My father.—

  “Biiiig,” commented Leaf.

  “Too big,” squeaked Jelly, its head protruding from the V of Numair’s shirt.

  —We start,— boomed a golden dragon directly across the amphitheater from the mortals. —Diamondflame is charged with ignoring the will of the Dragonmeet, and with permitting humans to enter the Dragonlands. Humans, the question is asked: Why have you come here?—

  “You should do the talking,” Numair told Daine softly. “You are Kitten’s guardian.”

  Daine was about to reply when a mind voice yelled, —No one cares what they want ! Kill them!— Looking around, the girl saw a mottled black-and-white dragon who sat up, balanced on his back legs. —Kill them, and bring Skysong home!— Slowly he fell back to his fours.

  Nearby, a second dragon reared onto its haunches. —Our law bids us to first hear what they have to say.—

  Moonwind sat up. —They and their defenders lost their right to claim jus
tice under our law when my grandson was murdered by their kind. Look at them. Already they cause trouble here. Already they try to seduce our young away from us.—

  —We aren’t seduced!— cried a younger dragon hotly. —They’re new; they’re different. We could learn from them—except you and your crowd have closed minds!—

  —Silence!— roared Moonwind. Daine and Numair cringed away from the force of her rage, while the young dragon who had spoken clawed at his muzzle.

  —Now you’ve done it,— whispered Grizzle to the gagged youngster. —You’d better hope that she takes the Silence off you before you get too hungry.—

  —If you felt that humans were not to be treated with under our law, Sister Moonwind, you should have amended the law in the four centuries since your loss,— snapped a new adult. —You know as well as I that all changes in law must be reviewed, debated, and considered. You cannot demand that it be changed here and now.—

  “Excuse me,” said Daine, wanting to answer the initial question. The dragons continued to argue about legal issues. Red tinted the scales of most present; lightning, in sheets or threads, danced over more than a few. “Excuse me!”

  “Try again,” murmured Numair. Black fire glimmered around the hand he placed on the nape of her neck.

  She took a deep breath. “EXCUSE ME!” she cried. Her voice, amplified by the mage’s spell, thundered in the bowl of the arena. Daine winced, and used a quieter tone. “All we want is to go home—that’s it. We don’t like being here any more than you want us. So, if you could take us back to the mortal realms, we’re quits.”

  —No one asked you.— Jewelclaw did more than sit up. He stepped onto the ramp and began to walk down toward them. Balls and rails of lightning raced around his hide as it turned a deep crimson, the color of dragon rage. —You humans. How could we have allowed you to continue to exist, with your murderous hearts, your waste, and your noise? It’s time to scour the mortal realms clean. We can start with you.—

  “You dare.” Numair took his hand from Daine’s back. Suddenly it was hard for the girl to breathe. She stepped away from him and the sudden bloom of his power.

  —Do you think we fear you, mortal?— the black-and-white dragon asked as he stepped onto the ramp behind Jewelclaw. —No human can face down a dragon!—

  A burst of wind threw Daine back. Moonwind had vanished from her station, to reappear on the beaten earth of the floor.

  Numair handed Jelly to Scamp, ignoring the darking’s unhappy cries, and advanced on Moonwind. With each deliberate step that he took, fresh power shivered the air around him, as if he gathered magic like a cloak.

  Daine gave Leaf to Grizzle and unlaced her over-large shirt, looking at the pair of smaller dragons on the ramp. Her skin was clammy and tingling with fear, her knees weak. She wished passionately that she knew more about dragons. Swiftly she reviewed forms she could take: A big one might slow her down, make her an easy target. A falcon’s claws and beak could make an impression, and she would be fast.

  —There are mortals who may battle us on an equal footing.— The speaker was a lean, knobby dragon who sat in the lowest tier. He did not bother to rise on his haunches. His green, red, blue, and yellow scales were pale, as if coated in dust. The two on the ramp halted; even Moonwind looked at him. —Not many, but some. Your coterie has chosen to ignore that which does not add to your over-weening selfishness in regard to which species have importance, and which ones do not. . . . Or are you merely stupid? I never could decide which it was, though perhaps I should have.—

  —You do not understand the matter, Ancestor Rainbow!— snapped the black-and-white dragon.

  Pale eyes swept over Daine as the elderly dragon looked in the direction of Jewelclaw and his companion. Seeing no pupils, she realized that Rainbow was blind.

  —Do I not?— he asked, voice mild. —Well, you are entitled to your opinions, Riverwind, however foolish they may be. I too am entitled to my opinion, which is, that I grow weary of your bad manners. Leave the Dragonmeet.—

  The black-and-white dragon reared. He clawed at the air with his forepaws, screeching so high and so loudly that Daine felt a pressure like thumbs in her ears. His screech dwindled rapidly, as did he, until he vanished from sight.

  For a long, still moment, there was no sound in the arena.

  Daine was taking a deep breath when all of the dragons spoke at once, mind voices blending into a wordless roar in her mind.

  She heard one voice clearly: Jewelclaw’s. —The humans are mine!— He trotted down the ramp. Moonwind raised a forepaw and unfurled her immense wings. Numair faced her, the air rippling and bending visibly where it touched him.

  Daine jumped, taking goshawk shape as her feet left the ground. Her clothes dropped, empty. With a screech, she sped toward Jewelclaw.

  —Enough,— said the crackling mind voice that had spoken to Daine and Numair near the bridge. Jewelclaw froze in his tracks.

  —When did my personal invitation to guests of my clan become a matter for every wing and claw in the Dragonlands to discuss, and interfere with?— What Daine had thought was a huge pile of blue stones uncoiled, and walked leisurely to the amphitheater floor. Diamondflame—Grandsire—was a dragon over eighty feet in length from nostrils to rump. While she could see larger dragons, none had a presence that made the air hum as he approached Moonwind and Numair.

  Daine kept a wary eye on Jewelclaw as she drifted overhead. Diamondflame’s scales were a shiny blue so dark as to be nearly black, picked out with flecks of gold and violet. A golden crest rose from his broad forehead and swept down to his shoulders, lending him a stern, crowned aspect. His large, indigo eyes glittered with intelligence.

  —I understand your grief for your grandson, Moonwind, but only to a point. With no law passed by the Dragonmeet, I am entirely within my rights to welcome my grandchild’s guardians to my home. It should not matter if they are human, dragons, or dragonflies. They are my guests, and no business of the Dragonmeet!—

  —Ancestor Rainbow, I demand a ruling,— hissed the pearl-scaled dragon. —Humans in the Dragonlands are no matter of personal choice, as Diamondflame has said, but of the will of the Dragonmeet. I vote to dump them into the Sea of Sand and let them cook.—

  —Will the Dragonmeet now tell each dragon what guest to have, what to read, when to have children?— Diamondflame wanted to know. —I am within my rights, the ones granted to me and to every dragon by the Golden Dragonmeet, to accept the visit of the guardians of my grandchild, without certain meddlers getting involved.—

  —Now he calls ‘meddlers’ those who wish only to see drag-onkind return to power in all the realms!— cried Jewelclaw. —Have you old and conservative ones turned to wyverns and salamanders?—

  —Humans or no humans, I must say that I have not heard such insolence from the young in the last thousand years as I have heard today,— said the one called Rainbow. Slowly he lowered himself from his grassy seat and walked over to Diamondflame. —I will judge now.— He sat on his haunches and rose up, many-colored scales tightening over his knobby, fragile-looking skeleton. Slowly, as gracefully as a dancer, he stretched out enormous, nearly transparent, bat wings. The sun glinted off the silvery bones within them, and painted glowing light over the old dragon.

  —I ordain as Rainbow Windheart, Governor of the Dragonmeet, oldest of the Firefolk, with a hundred centuries under my wings. By the Compact of the Godwars and the vote of the Golden Dragonmeet, I speak for all of us, until the day comes that I am taken back to Mother Flame.—

  Settling a bit, he turned those blind eyes on the blue-green dragon. —Out of my sight, Jewelclaw. If I see you before a century has passed, I shall not be so kind again as I am right now.— Heat passed under Daine’s tail feathers on its way from Rainbow to the younger dragon. Jewelclaw dodged the bolt with a snarl and jumped into flight, lunging at the girl-goshawk.

  Something—not Jewelclaw—clutched her tightly. She felt squeezed, as if she had turned to icing in a past
ry cook’s tube. A strangled cry burst from her lips; she could feel herself dropping as her eyes went dark.

  When she opened them again, she lay on the ground, fully dressed, staring at the sky.

  —The only way dragons can live together is to vow to keep their muzzles out of one another’s private lives.— The mind voice was Rainbow’s; he sounded close by. —When we wrote our laws at the Golden Dragonmeet, we made sure of that. When I spoke in my office as governor, they could not argue, under the laws of that same meet.—

  Two ink-blot heads stretched into her vision, one over her left eye, one over her right. Leaf squeaked, “Awake now!”

  The next faces Daine saw were those of Grizzle and Scamp. Over their heads, within a heartbeat’s time, she saw Numair, his dark eyes worried. Behind him, the great blue dragon peered down at her.

  “What happened?” she asked, blinking.

  Scamp moved out of the way. Into the space she had filled in Daine’s vision came the muzzle and blind eyes of Rainbow. His mind voice sounding like wind-tossed leaves, he said, —Forgive my lack of precision in grabbing you out of harm’s way, Godborn. I allowed Jewelclaw to upset me. What you felt was dragon magic, nothing more.—

  “I’m glad it was nothing more.” Daine felt oddly peaceful. “Think how upsetting it might be to get squeezed from a shape—like milk from a teat—by something big.”

  “Is she all right?” Numair asked the blue dragon, worried. “Not—damaged?”

  —She seems well enough now,— was Diamondflame’s reply.

  “You don’t know her as I do. She’s never this philosophical about surprises.”

  Reaching out, the blind dragon pulled Daine into a sitting position, his grip gentle. “My bones are all wobbly,” she confided to him in a whisper. Looking around, she saw that many of the adult dragons had left. “Where’d everybody go?”

  —Where they would have been if Moonwind and her Separatists had not chosen to meddle in business that was not theirs,— said Diamondflame. —They have gone home. Ancestor Rainbow ruled that your visit, concerned as it was with returning to my grandchild, was a matter for my clan alone.—