Amber and Iron - Margaret Weis [56]
A confirmed recluse, a dragon who made no secret of the fact that she loathed and despised every other being on the planet, Midori was forced to seek out others of her kind and actually have conversations with them. This did not improve her humor.
She heard the tale of the Cataclysm from an excited young sea dragon, who told her the history of the human Kingpriests and their transgressions and subsequent punishment by the gods. Midori listened in growing ire. Humans were like fish. Here one minute, gone the next, and always plenty more where the others came from. She saw no reason why the gods should have destroyed a perfectly good lair over such a paltry matter. Seething, Midori moved what remained of her treasure into another lair and went back to sleep.
She slept through the War of the Lance, the Summer of Flame, the Chaos War, the Theft of the World, and the arrival of the Dragon Overlords, who never suspected her existence. She would have continued deep in slumber, but for a horrific scream that jolted Midori out of her sleep and caused her to open her eyes for the first time in several centuries.
The scream was the death cry of Takhisis
Midori had never thought much of the Dark Queen. Some sea dragons had taken part in Takhisis’s wars. Midori had not been one of them. Her life was precious to her, and she saw no need to risk it for another’s cause. If Takhisis ruled the world or if she didn’t, it was all the same to Midori. But now, like the child who long ago left home, yet likes to know that her Mama is still there in case she’s needed, Midori felt bereft and even a little fearful.
If such a terrible fate could befall a god, no one—not even a dragon—was safe.
For the second time in her life, Midori left her lair and went out to discover the truth. She swam slowly and ponderously through the water, not burdened by years so much as by as the weight of the enormous shell on her back. Whereas land dragons have spiny protrusions on their backs and wings that enable them to fly, sea dragons have an enormous shell, like that of a tortoise, and flippers instead of clawed feet. The shell was designed for defense. Midori could withdraw her head and feet into it for safety, and that was where she slept. Over the centuries, as she slept, her shell had been overgrown by coral and barnacles, so that swimming with it was tantamount to picking up and moving a coral reef.
Thinking that this latest calamity might have something to do with Istar and that other Cataclysm, Midori returned to the Blood Sea and there came across Nuitari, busily raising up the ruins of some rotting old tower. The god was startled and not particularly pleased to see a sea dragon, for he had no idea one was in the vicinity and he feared she might cause trouble.
Nuitari was respectful to Midori, however, and told her the whole story—all about the Irda, Chaos, world-snatching, alien dragons, skull totems, a time-traveling kender, a girl named Mina, the War of Souls, the death of one god and the voluntary exile of another.
As Midori listened, her fears grew. A world where even gods could die was obviously a much more dangerous place than she’d realized. She was thinking of this and wondering how she would ever have a good epoch’s sleep again, when, unexpectedly, Nuitari made her an offer. He needed a guardian for some relics he’d picked up off the sea floor. The job was hers, if she wanted it.
Midori didn’t like Nuitari. She considered him a whining, ungrateful child, not worthy of the mother who had given birth to him. She didn’t particularly relish working for him, but she didn’t like the thought of returning to her lonely lair, either. She needed to keep an eye on things. Besides, if she grew bored or if he annoyed her too much, she could always