On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [133]
Melaan rose to her challenge and began to speak. “Four times before, a world has been created and the Dancers have tried to earn it permanence. Twice they have succeeded. Twice, they have failed. This time is the final Dance. If the Dancers succeed, then this world and the two others who have been spared will be allowed to continue. If they fail, all will be obliterated.”
“Mirya, take up the tale,” Kevla said, turning to the little five-score girl.
She swallowed hard, and spoke in a nervous voice. “The Lorekeepers have the knowledge of what has gone before. We were born to help the Dancers succeed by keeping that lore from being forgotten and lost forever.”
Kevla smiled approvingly at the girl. “It’s my understanding from the Dragon, and from what the Lorekeepers have told me, that other civilizations were wiser than we,” she said. “They respected what their Lorekeepers said, they sought out and protected their Dancers. But we here in Arukan have been foolish. We suppressed our Lorekeepers. Called them mad.”
Her eyes met those of her father’s, and it was with difficulty that Tahmu did not avert his gaze.
“Called them kulis,” Kevla said. “When I came into my powers, I was afraid and ashamed of them. It is only thanks to Jashemi-kha-Tahmu, the man who began this uniting of the clans, that I can now stand before you.” She paused, and Tahmu saw her swallow hard, saw the pain in her eyes; pain he knew matched his own. Perhaps even exceeded it.
“It is with deep grief that I tell you that Jashemi is dead. He gave his life in order that I might finally understand who and what I am—who and what the Lorekeepers are. He believed that our powers had surfaced at this time because Arukan is in great danger. Our enemies have long been one another, but that cannot be allowed to continue. We must stand together, stand strong, against the enemy that approaches from over the mountains.
“Some of you may have noticed that there are a few clans who are not represented here today. It’s not because they were afraid to come. It is because the armies of the Emperor have destroyed them. Those who did not die were taken and forced to serve beneath the standard of the ki-lyn. You know the flag I speak of, and yes, that strange creature has a name. There is a saying that we all know.”
She paused and turned to the Dragon, who was watching her attentively. Kevla smiled at him and stroked him affectionately. “‘When the Great Dragon rouses,’” she quoted, “‘None shall stand against his flame.’”
Tahmu could have sworn the creature winked. Kevla turned to face the crowd again.
“That saying is true. The Dragon has roused, and the armies of the Emperor shall not stand against his flame.”
“How do we know this is true?” came a frightened voice from the crowd. All heads turned to see who had spoken. It was a high-caste youth from the Sa’abah Clan. He was a little younger than Kevla and looked both defiant and frightened.
“Raka,” Melaan began.
“No! How do we know this isn’t all a lie? How do we know that she isn’t a kuli, casting some sort of spell on us to dream the dreams she wants?”
“You see before you the Great Dragon,” Kevla answered calmly. “Do you doubt the evidence of your own eyes?”
The boy lifted his chin defiantly, but Tahmu could see that he trembled.
“No one can subdue the Great Dragon. Maybe this is a spell, too. Maybe this isn’t the Great Dragon at all, but an illusion that—”
The Dragon’s serpentine head whipped around and he snorted, smoke erupting from his nostrils. Faster than Tahmu would have thought possible for so huge a creature, the Dragon moved toward the boy. It reached out a clawed foreleg, closed it around the terrified Raka, and lifted him high off the ground as it sat on its haunches. Raka was too frightened even to