Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [73]
“Raegar said you were a remarkable woman,” said Xydis in his deep, booming voice. “He was right. Come with me.”
He walked off, moving rapidly. Treia was startled and a little alarmed by his abruptness. Xydis was a man of few words. He found mindless “palaverings,” as he termed them, annoying and had been known to rudely cut short the vague ramblings of the Empress. He was blunt and pugnacious, preferring action to talk.
The Priest-General led the way through the fabulous clutter to a wooden table near the back of the vault. He stood in front of the table and, clasping his hands behind him and rocking forward on his feet, he gestured with his head and regarded her expectantly.
“Well, what do you think, Bone Priestess?”
The table held two objects. The gleam of gold came from one, but, with her weak eyesight, Treia could not make out precisely what she was looking at. The other was plainer, simpler.
“I must . . . look more closely, Worshipful Sir,” Treia murmured apologetically. “My eyes . . .”
He nodded and stepped aside, crowding near her, dividing his gaze between her and the prizes. Raegar remained standing behind, looming over her.
Treia looked first at the object of gleaming gold and her heart stopped beating. She knew immediately what it was. She pretended she did not, however, for her mind was in turmoil. She must have betrayed her emotions, however, for she was acutely aware that Xydis’s eyes narrowed. To cover her confusion and to give herself time to think, she concentrated on the other object.
“This is a spiritbone, the bone of a dragon,” she said.
“So Raegar told us,” said Xydis. “He said you are a Bone Priestess. Can you summon this dragon?”
“I know the ritual to summon the dragon,” said Treia cautiously, not wanting to commit herself.
“Could this ritual be taught to another?” Xydis asked. “Suppose, for example, I wanted to summon this dragon myself. Could you teach the ritual to me?”
“I could,” Treia said. “The ritual is not difficult to learn. But that does not mean you could use it to call the dragon, Worshipful Sir. The summoning is a pact made between the dragon and the summoner and the Goddess Vindrash. Even then, the dragon has free will. The beast must want to answer.”
Xydis picked up the spiritbone, the plain one. The bone seemed to nestle in his hand.
“This dragon will answer,” he said. “This dragon came to us of her own accord.”
Treia stared, astonished. “This dragon is a follower of Aelon?”
“She is fond of jewels, it seems,” said Xydis dryly.
Treia thought of the Dragon Kahg arrogant and smug and self-satisfied like all of his kind, considering themselves so superior. It seemed dragons were susceptible to what they would term human weaknesses.
“I could teach you the ritual, Worshipful Sir,” said Treia. “Or the dragon could teach you herself.”
“Excellent,” said Xydis. He watched her closely and said softly, his gaze going to the other spiritbone, the one adorned with gold, “What about this one? Tell me about it.”
Xydis had brought her here to see this, Treia realized. He already knew about the other spiritbone. He needed only her confirmation that it would prove useful. This was the prize.
Treia’s mouth went dry, and her lips felt brittle and rough. She moistened them with her tongue and wondered desperately what to do, what to say. She was tempted to pass this off as nothing, merely a spiritbone adorned with gold. She glanced at Xydis and saw that he knew this object was extraordinary, that there was something special about it.
“Where did you get this?” she asked.
“Never mind—” Raegar said impatiently.
Xydis frowned at Raegar, who flushed, chastened, and kept quiet.
“Is it valuable?” Xydis asked, not answering.
“Oh, yes,” said Treia, her voice tight.
“It is the bone of a dragon—”
“Not an ordinary dragon,” Treia interjected. She felt smothered, unable to draw enough air into her lungs. “This is the spiritbone of one of the Vektan Five.”
Raegar sucked in an