Dragon's Ring by Dave Freer Page A

and lapsed back into sleep.
     
    * * *
     
    Fionn stood watching, unblinking. Eventually, when her breathing had slipped back into the regular cadences of sleep, he walked back from the window, and took a small flask from his bag. He poured some of the liquid into his hand. It was a shame to waste it, but she'd been on the verge of setting fire to the place. He traced lines of water-force around her bed, quietly, and as gently as possible picking up the foot of the bed to re-align it. She did not wake.
     
    After a while Fionn crossed to the window and stepped out onto the sill.
     
    Meb stirred slightly as the spiky shadow of his wings passed briefly over her face. But she did not wake, as the dragon rose into the night with the swift and powerful beating of his wide wings.
     
    Soon he was up where the air grew thin.
     
    Others were already leaving the conclave, and Fionn skimmed low over the broken lunar surface, almost as if having got this far, he was leaving again. It was an effort of will and magic to reach this place, the air being far too thin for flying. It was easier, soon, to land and walk among the scattered rocks—something beyond the dignity of most of Fionn's peers. That suited him. Mostly he was hidden in the shadows. He came, at length, to a massive crater, and climbed down the rimwall, carefully avoiding certain holds, to enter a fissure near its base. It was dark on the way in here, but Fionn had no need of visible light. He rounded three corners, stepping on certain rocks only. The hoard that lay there was vast, lit up by a warm glowing orb on a high rock shelf. Fionn looked happily at the gold-pile. He had some coins from Zuamar's tax hall to add to it. He was, after all, a dragon. The model on which others were created.
     
    Fionn knew a great deal more about gold than most dragons. He knew for instance how the magical conductivity of it was what underlay much of the magic of Tasmarin. How that had been used in the creation. Dragons, dvergar and humans . . . they undermined the very fabric of the place, which was quite amusing. Its foundation was the finest tracery of dragon-gold, but they probably had not understood that. Gold could be spun out so thin that it could not be seen. But it could easily be broken.
     
     
     
    Zuamar had used the space and respect granted to the old, the rich, the large and strong within the conclave to find a time and opportunity to have a word with his island-neighbor, Vorlian. They could not talk outside the conclave as that would have meant entering the territory of the other—a difficult and dangerous process.
     
    Vorlian was afforded similar space of course. He was rich, large and strong, even if, by Zuamar's standards, he was not old. The maneuvering was subtle, but, in its way, obvious. Zuamar seldom visited the conclave. It was most likely that he'd come here just for this purpose.
     
    Their bows were a measured performance. So carefully measured Vorlian, judging his own, as to be precise mirrors of the other. "My good Zuamar. And how does the night find you?" asked Vorlian, carefully urbane.
     
    "Angry, Vorlian," said the older dragon.
     
    Vorlian wished he had less of an idea why. Or knew just how this had come back to him. "Ah."
     
    "It's these humans . . . and I think some of the other lesser species. Things fall apart, and they're growing restive."
     
    Vorlian hoped that his relief did not show. "I think we've been preoccupied with the situation, Zuamar. Allowed them to get above themselves." Actually, he thought most of dragonkind had diverted their attention from the true crisis to the petty pursuit of vendettas and ensuring that they got their respect and dues from those within their demesnes. But if that was what Zuamar wanted to hear about raiders attacking his island . . .
     
    The older dragon nodded his vast head. "We need some kind of alliance against the pernicious lice. You are too young to remember the dark times before Tasmarin,