Roderick’s eyes were wide with horror. “But you can only go through a Gate once.”
The dragon lowered her head. “She collapsed as soon as she dropped her burden. With her last heartbeats, she sent the message, ‘Beware the emperor.’ And then her body burst into flames, leaving nothing but ash.”
A being who would have lived for centuries, gone. A shiver traveled down Elizabeth’s spine.
Granny lowered her head. “May her memory and her sacrifice live forever.” It sounded like something a dragon would say.
Darcy set down his cards without the slightest regret. The game was not an entertainment he undertook with any pleasure, especially after the disastrous news of the day, and Elizabeth had gone white as a sheet with the news. He hurried to sit beside her, taking her hand in his. “It is terrible, I know. Is there anything I can get you for your relief? A glass of wine?”
She shook her head. “I am well enough.” Her voice was subdued, though.
If only he could help her in some way! The image of the dragon giving up her life to save the hatchlings would not leave his mind, either. He would do the same for the child Elizabeth was carrying.
Across the room Cerridwen stiffened, then rose to her full height, her wings extending, her eyes staring into the distance.
Roderick jumped to his feet just in time to catch a vase that her wingtip had toppled.
“Is something the matter?” Elizabeth asked.
“Hush,” Lady Amelia said. “She will tell us when she is ready. Or not, if she prefers.”
“But what is happening?”
“A sending, unless I miss my guess. One of a special sort.”
Cerridwen’s aura shifted then, from anxiety to satisfaction. A minute later, she drew in her wings and sat back on her haunches.
“News?” Granny asked.
“The Nest is going into Conclave,” Cerridwen said. “And I… I am invited to join it.” Her head swung to Elizabeth. “They are accepting you as my Companion.”
Elizabeth’s face lit up. “That is excellent news. What is this Conclave?”
“Later,” Cerridwen chirped distractedly. “I must go now.” As she shifted to her kestrel form, Roderick was already at the window, holding it open for her.
“At least that is one problem solved,” Lady Amelia said as Cerridwen flew off. “And another begun. The dragons will be discussing what to do about this. I hope this Conclave will be a short one. We do not have weeks or months to spare.”
Elizabeth’s shoulders sagged. Why did that particular idea bother her, out of all the others? Darcy rubbed his hand over her arm in what little comfort he could give.
“I cannot imagine it will take that long.” Roderick closed the window and latched it. “There is not enough information for them to make a decision.”
Lady Amelia pulled her shawl around her shoulders, frowning. “For them, perhaps, but it is clear what I must do. Little as I like the idea, I must drag my ancient bones down to London and teach your ridiculous War Office chaps how to deal with dragon attacks – not to mention peaceful dragons.”
“London?” Elizabeth cried, sounding horrified. “Will that journey not be too much for you?”
“It will be more painful than I like, but there is no choice. I had already been considering how to do it, since we can no longer afford to have the government acting in complete ignorance of dragons. This is the moment, since during a Conclave, the Nest cannot stop me.” The old woman sighed. “And we must learn about the involvement of the sea serpents. Sycamore can speak to the ones in the estuary in London.”
Darcy stiffened. “Dragons can speak to sea serpents?”
“Of course,” Lady Amelia said irritably. “Sea serpents are their cousins.”
“It would help enormously if we knew what had turned them against us,” Darcy said.
Elizabeth shook her head fiercely. “But this will expose the existence of dragons here, and that cannot be undone. Even if you manage to keep my involvement secret, will it not endanger them?”
Lady Amelia made an unladylike noise. “Oh, the Nests would certainly oppose it, at least until they had given it consideration for at least a year or two, hidebound creatures that they are! It will not be the first time Sycamore and I have acted on our own, choosing to seek forgiveness rather than permission.”
“I did not hear that,” said Roderick pointedly. Then, more soberly, he added, “You are planning to violate the Great Covenant of Concealment. I do not disagree with your reasoning, but I must report your plans to the Gwynedd Nest. Unless you stop me from doing so.”
