by Greg Curtis
“So I offered her what I offered all the others. Power. The magic of my kind. And I asked for only one thing in return. That she never cast that spell. It went horribly wrong, because she had another spell I didn't know about. Regeneration. Her magic fought the change. Fought it as no other spell could.”
“If all had gone as it normally did, she would have simply changed, slowly over time becoming a ghost dragon as you call them. Finally shedding her human skin. It may look frightening to you. But contrary to what you may have heard, I do not kill those who come to me. And I do not have parasites lay eggs or whatever other perversions your friends claim, in them either. Why are your people always so obsessed with such prurient matters? So willing to accuse?”
“And neither do I break their minds. Those who come to me, come from bad places. I offer them hope. Only a chance perhaps. But still, it is a chance to escape their lives. And that is exactly what I offered Sana. She was not pregnant though she might have imagined she was. That creature inside her was no baby. And it was no parasite either. It was her. The magic I had granted her was reshaping her body as it should have, but her own magic was fighting it. All the tissues of her body that accepted my gift, being shaped by the desires of her soul and rejected by her magic She was literally growing into two women. One filled with my magic and reshaped by her soul. One filled with her own magic and rejecting the other.”
Could that be? It could explain why the creature had seemed to be growing even when it was dead, Hendrick realised. Her magic was healing it even as it was trying to expel if from her body. But it was still a horrible thing.
“The problem lies in the human soul. Ri Altenne herself could not pour all the magic of a dragon into a mortal vessel too small to hold it. And when that vessel is already damaged as it is in those who come to me, there is no hope. And it was already damaged by your own people. Not by me and not by the gift I offer. It is that damage that makes my gift a curse.”
“Your gift is poison!”
“My gift is pure! The poison is the mortal soul,” she countered. “It is the endless lust for power. I spent two centuries trying to explain that to your people.”
“Yes, when you were Erohilm the Prophet. The Seer. The Sage. I read your holy books. That the peoples of the world needed to give up their quest for power. Live humble lives. Grow crops. Give up magic. As if we could do that. We'd starve. Or we’d have frozen to death!”
“Better that than killing yourselves with spells and weapons!” She answered him, her voice still filled with bitterness.
“Like you caused us to do?”
“Again, I did no such thing! You did that to yourselves! I had no hand in it.”
“Save as the seer, showing our ancestors the site of the crystals. Granting them all the power they could dream of. And then sitting back and watching. Nay, you even helped one of those catastrophes along by whispering in the souls of noble men. And then you called it a lesson! You would give a burning taper to a baby and watch as it burnt!”
“Your basic treatise was wrong anyway Dibella,” Val jumped in. He had been quiet for too long and quite possibly he was worried that Hendrick was losing his temper. “There's nothing wrong with seeking greater power, be it magic or technology. The wrong only enters the equation when you do it without regard for the consequences. To others. To the world.”
“If you had truly wanted to help us, you should have said that instead of teaching people to yearn for an ideal they could not possibly achieve.”
“And you knew that.” Hendrick finished the thought for the sage. “Do not pretend otherwise.”
“Yes, I knew that you were fools.” She glared at him, annoyed. “I also knew that most of you were selfish, arrogant and heartless. And you will not learn! If there is one thing I have discovered from watching your kind for thousands of years it is that you will never do the right thing!”
“Understand me very carefully here Dibella.” Hendrick finally let his anger loose. If she could get angry, then so could he. “When this meeting is ended I will ensure at the very least that the truth is known. That Dibella, Queen of the Dragons, is no Queen at all. That she is nothing more than the basest of knaves. A vile creature worthy only of contempt. I may not be able to bring you to justice for your crimes, but I can at least ensure that the truth is known.”
“And what about the crimes committed against me?!” She raised her own voice in turn as she put down her cup. “Will you tell the worlds about the terrible wrongs the people of the Empire did to me and mine? You think I would waste a single beat of my heart with you were it not for what your people did?! And still do?!”
“And we will speak of them. I may even try to find some answer. But if you were any sort of noble you would know that no crime committed against you absolves you of the crimes you have committed against others. You are guilty. And until the end of time that will stand as the truth!”
Hendrick took a few deep breaths to steady his nerves. Shouting and screaming would not help, and it might make her do something he would regret despite Sana's claims that she was fond of him.
“Now tell me of what was done, and maybe some resolution can be found.”
“They stole my children!”
Marthan and R'ven? Hendrick was taken aback by that. He hadn't expected the accusation. And it didn't make sense anyway. They weren't ten thousand years old for a start. And he hadn't heard that they'd been taken. Besides, he'd rather assumed that Simone's sons didn't exist. That they were in fact her. Just another pair of faces she wore when it suited her. After all, she was a dragon. How could she have human children? He asked.
“Not human offspring!” she snapped. “They stole my eggs!”
“Your eggs?” Once more he was caught by surprise, but this time by a single word. Birds laid eggs, not people. But then he kept forgetting. He wasn't really talking to a woman. She might look like a great beauty, but she was nothing more than a spell. A solid visage the Queen of the Dragons projected from her lair.
“Those vile creatures crept into my lair and stole my clutch while I slept! It was a despicable act by knaves and brigands. And you think that anything I have done could match that evil?!”
“Yes!” Hendrick lost his temper again and shouted at her. “You've killed the innocent children of millions of innocent mothers! So absolutely yes! You have more than surpassed that evil!” He put it plainly. But then he took a few deep breaths to calm himself.
“Now, tell me of what happened and stop pretending to be the victim! You have no right to that pretence.”
“I am the victim!” Dibella shouted back. But then she seemed to control herself. “It is as I said. I lay sleeping. Curled up around my clutch. And when I awoke they were gone. Mortals had taken them. I could smell them. But I could not find them.”
“It took me centuries to find the mortals as I searched across a million worlds. And when I did my eggs weren't with them. I continued to search world after world for them. But I could only find the evidence of where they'd been.”
“Evidence?”
“Black crystals. The rocks on which they had sat. Wherever my eggs lie, the rock turns black and glassy.”
“And it absorbs their magic!” Hendrick finally saw the connection he'd been looking for. Finally he understood what the Mythagan had been hiding for so long. “Oh by the gods, the Mythagan, the peoples of the Empire, have been running all their worlds on those black crystals for ten thousand years!”
Hendrick buried his face in his palms. “Shite!” Finally he had the truth – and he hated it. Because the one thing he knew for certain was that the Mythagan – assuming they still had the eggs – weren't going to give them up. If the crystals were out of power the black glass stones were all they had left. No wonder they were hiding the truth.
“They're farming my eggs. Like animals!” Dibella practically wailed at him. “For ten thousand years they've been holding my clutch apart from me. They are villains! And I am the victim! I did
not come into their homes and steal away their babies! And I have tried everything to get them back. Ask yourself; if someone came into your home and stole your babies, what would you do to get them back? The better question is what wouldn't you do?! You think you can somehow resolve such a thing?!”
“Because I have tried everything! At first I tried reason. I went to their people and I asked. It was not my desire to do so. I wanted to come with all the strength I had. But there are laws that bind even dragons. So I went to them like a common churl though I hated it, learned their tongues and beseeched them.”
“The people could tell me nothing. They didn't know anything. Not even where the black rocks came from.”
“I went to their leaders, and they would tell me nothing. Many lied to me. Claimed that they had no such thing. Others just refused. They said they had to have my eggs and I should lay some more. As if I was a mere fowl! I cannot lay any more eggs until I mate again, and I cannot mate until my eggs have hatched and my babies are old enough to leave the lair. I tried to explain that. The only thing they would tell me was that my eggs were safe and they would stay that way as long as I was quiet. They accused me of threatening them.”
“I tried to chase down the shipments, and they found a way to use the magic of my own eggs against me. They shaped wards into the black stones that prevented me seeing into their cities or even visiting them as a projection. It took me thousands of years to work my way around them.”
“When that failed I tried to trade with their leaders. I went and offered spells and magic to them if they would only give me back my clutch. They took what I offered and betrayed the deal. And when some got the spells I had granted them and others didn't, wars broke out. Sometimes worlds fell into anarchy. They betrayed one another. Used my eggs as leverage against their rivals. And always I was blamed.”
“Then they started a faith. This belief that I could make you mortals into that which you are not. And I agreed to try if those who wanted my power agreed to find my clutch. But everything went wrong, because those of you who wanted my gifts were unworthy of them. Worse, those who ran this faith were scoundrels demanding gold and favours for a promise to meet me. And suddenly I was Dibella, the Queen of Dragons, the mistress of the bad deal.”
“But I kept giving my strength to those who wanted it, in the hope that eventually some would succeed in finding a worthy form and when they did, reward me with the location of my clutch. It never happened. Tens of thousands of mortals came to me, and not a single one of them ever managed to find a worthy form. But even when I told them that they kept trying. They would not stop coming. And those who prey on the weak would not stop lying to them, pretending to speak for me.”
“I thought in time that if I couldn't persuade the leaders of your worlds to my cause, maybe I could persuade the people instead, that they didn't need the magic of the black rocks. That it was their love of power that had led to their lost worlds’ inevitable destruction. I thought that if they understood that they might give me back my clutch. So I walked the world for centuries spreading a simple message as a prophet. But it didn't work. The people praised my wisdom, and started raising temples to me, but they wouldn't give up the magic.”
“By then I was becoming desperate. My eggs were thousands of years past the time when they should be hatching. I could smell it in the black rocks. They could survive, but not forever. They need to be bathed in my fire. They need to hatch. And I've missed three mating seasons. Too many. If I miss any more my rivals will begin to suspect I am ill. They will think I'm beyond my prime. And then they will come to take my lair. I cannot allow them to know what has happened. It will be my doom.”
“So I offered them yet more power. I offered them the mountain of Malthas where an ancient one – an actual behemoth – had lain dormant for a hundred thousand years. I promised to give them the crystals they now wear around their necks in exchange for my clutch. It was too much. I knew that. It was dangerous even to me. But it could do everything they could do with the black stones and much more. My hope was that with such power, they'd no longer want the black stones. They didn't need them.”
“They agreed to the deal. But again they betrayed me. Instead of telling me where my clutch was they decided to keep everything. All the power. All the magic. They laughed at me for even suggesting such a thing. And then they threatened me with the crystals I had given them. The entire Senate laughed at me when I came to them!”
“It was then that I decided to teach them a lesson. About what it is to steal a mother's clutch from her. To laugh at her pain while endangering her eggs. And it was then that I used the wizards. And yes, you may call that cruel or violent or criminal. But my eggs grow cold and I grow desperate! And I will not allow them to die!” She all but screamed the last at Hendrick.
Silence followed for a minute before she continued.
“And now we are here. My army has been defeated, but the crystals have been drained. If you want a battle then I will give you a battle. And I don't care how many of you die! I want my eggs!”
And just like that the rage was back, her face turning pale with fury. It was some time before she calmed down enough to speak again.
“So do you think you can help with that?!”
“Me?” Hendrick raised his head so she could see his truth. He didn't know that he believed her story. But he believed her anger. “No. But I'm a brewer of ale. You don't want my help.” He turned to his friend. “Val? Anything?”
“Maybe. Not me, but your mother looks like she wants to say something.”
“Your mother?!” Dibella's voice rose a few notches in surprise.
Hendrick answered her by simply gesturing with his fingers and broadening the visage around Val so that she could see that the sage wasn't alone. That he was in fact standing in his front yard with Lady Peri, and surrounded by many of his own people as well as some of the gifted. The Queen looked shocked. She had known the spell was there the instant she had seen Val. But it had never occurred to her that the spell was larger than it appeared. It was a simple deception, but one Hendrick was rather pleased with.
“I told you,” he told the Queen of the Dragons evenly, “I was expecting you. And you may have all the power in the world, but that doesn't mean you can't be fooled.” Then he turned around. “Mother?”
“Bring me across son. It's time for the women to talk.”
Hendrick quickly opened a portal, hoping that she knew what she was doing, and a heartbeat later his mother was standing on the lawn beside them. She quickly grabbed a seat with them.
“Now Simone –.”
“And how do you know my name?”
“It became obvious once Hendrick worked out the rest. He showed me the past, all of it, and I immediately noticed what he missed. What all the men missed. They really are blind you know. When it comes to certain things they just don't see them at all.”
“And they missed what?” The Queen of the Dragons did not sound happy. But then she probably wasn't happy about having been tricked to begin with.
“Your sense of style of course. Every … visage is it? … that you take, you always have to be beautiful. Whether a man or a woman. And you always have to be attired immaculately. Hair properly coiffured. Clothes perfect. Shoes just right. I would wager a lot of stynes that you have never once appeared as a dirt covered waif or a plain housewife.”
“Take this outfit for example. You're here in the guise of Erohilm. Prophetess, seer and sage. And yet how are you dressed? Like a princess seeking a husband. Alluring and elegant, but nothing like what you pretend to be.”
“Once I saw that, I immediately asked myself – who do I know like that? Someone who is the power behind the throne. Someone who could be in the perfect position to wreak complete and utter havoc on the world. And yet who could never be seen with a hair out of place, or in an attire that didn't become her? And there you were.”
“Your disguise was convincing. I truly believed you were a dotard
before her time. But once I realised there was a pattern I scarcely even needed to see Hendrick's windows into your past to know the truth.”
“Then Marda mentioned your army of clothiers crossing the country, which sounded a little strange even to me.” Hendrick thought he should say something. Anything to demonstrate that he wasn't completely irrelevant to what was happening. “But not so strange if they were doing something else like running the faith of the Queen of Dragons. Carrying messages back and forth, and concealing that behind their shopping trips.”
“Hush son, pour your mother a cup of tea and refill your stepmother's cup. The women are talking.”
Hendrick shook his head sadly realising that he was after all completely unimportant. Once more he was a child being told to be quiet while the adults spoke. It didn't seem right. Not after all he'd done.
“Now Simone, you've tried getting angry, starting a war, preaching, and generally making a mess of things. And none of it's helped. Are you willing to start negotiating?”
