The Silver Mage - Katharine Kerr [187]
The sound of dragon wings broke through the silence. Dallandra looked up, expecting to see Rori, but Arzosah was gliding down from the sky. She dipped her wings in greeting and headed for the ruined temple to land. Dallandra hurried down the slope and reached it just as Salamander climbed down from the dragon’s back. Bruises mottled his face and hands, but he waved to her cheerfully enough.
“Let me just get my gear down,” he called out. “Ye gods, is it me, or does this place stink to high heaven?”
“It’s the lake and the garbage,” Dallandra said. “If you can stand to eat in this perfumed setting, you’re just in time for dinner.”
“I cannot tell you how welcome that is, after days of scrounging in the wilderness. I shall grow used to the smell, as I suppose most people do.”
Dallandra turned to the black dragon. “Arzosah, you have my thanks for—”
The dragon looked her way, curled her lip, and hissed. What? Dallandra thought, then realized that Rori must have told her the truth.
Arzosah confirmed that insight later. Dallandra took Salamander to Jahdo’s house, saw him seated and fed, then returned to the temple, where Arzosah had stretched out in the early evening sun. At her approach, the great wyrm roused and sat up with a great show of extending her wings and snarling.
“We’ll be leaving on the morrow,” Dallandra said. “Do you want to go back north to your hatchlings?”
“Perhaps.” Arzosah opened her mouth to expose her fangs, as long as sword blades. “I have a bone to pick with you, elf!”
“Oh, ye gods! You spoiled and petulant wyrm!” Dallandra set her hands on her hips. “This is a fine time for you to turn nasty!”
Arzosah paused, startled by this answering display of ill temper. “Um, well,” the wyrm said eventually. “Rori told me about the dragon book and his decision.”
“And?”
“I suppose you were going to sneak around and turn him back before I had a chance to say one word against it.”
“Naught of the sort.” Dallandra decided that the time had come for plain truth. “Now, listen to me before you storm and rage.”
Arzosah hesitated, wings half-extended, mouth open, then suddenly shut her massive jaws and folded her wings. She lay down with her forepaws tucked under her chest like an enormous cat at a hearth.
“My thanks,” Dallandra said. “First off, just because we finally have the book doesn’t mean I can work the dweomer in it. I’ve not even seen the thing yet. Laz has it on Haen Marn.”
“Oh.” Arzosah’s voice sounded calmer. “I didn’t know that.”
“Which is why I’m telling you. Second, and here’s the crux, I’ll need your help. You were feeding Evandar some of your life force, weren’t you, when he transformed Rhodry into Rori?”
“How clever you are! I’d wondered if you noticed that.”
“I did. So no doubt I’ll need you to reabsorb that power while I’m working the dweomer.”
“Do you really think I’d help you take away my mate? You must be daft.”
“I was assuming you’d feel that way, frankly. You have the winning stone in this game of carnoic, and so there’s no need for you to whine, is there?”
Arzosah rumbled, then pulled one of her paws free and curled it to contemplate her claws. Dallandra waited, hands on her hips, and tried to think of some argument that might change the dragon’s mind.
“Humph!” Arzosah laid the paw down again. “Why doesn’t anyone ever consider my feelings on these matters?”
“Because you always do it for them,” Dallandra said. “You’re so busy considering your own feelings that no one else can get a word in edgewise.”
“The gall!”
“You’ve got a fair bit of that, too.”
Arzosah opened her mouth then shut it with a clack of fangs.
“You’re only angry,” Dallandra went on, “because I’m right.”
“You don