He knew Sedric, knew him better than he knew himself. He always had, and that had been why he’d always been able to manage him. Sedric would be waiting at the bottom of the flight of steps, already repentant, already frightened by his own defiance. Perhaps weeping and desiring forgiveness and comfort. He dabbed at his split lips again, and his tongue found a loosened tooth. Damn him!
Forgiveness and comfort? He would get neither until he had apologized and atoned. And demonstrated his contrition. He waited. Don’t break the discipline. Make him come back to me. Don’t let him think I’m going to come running after him. Let him worry for a bit. Let him see I truly don’t need him any more. It was always important to establish who was in charge early.
Hest jumped and then cowered at the first blast of dragon trumpets. When the racket continued, he straightened slowly. It wasn’t an attack. They wouldn’t attack their own city. Probably nothing more serious than dogs barking at one another, or howling at the moon. His mouth hurt, his ribs ached and he decided he had waited long enough. Let Sedric think he had won this round. Give him a tiny triumph so he didn’t feel totally beaten. It would make their next encounter even more interesting when Hest brought him back to his knees. He started down the stairs.
He reached the next landing, but Sedric wasn’t there. Nor on the next. ‘Sedric!’ He put a sharper note into his voice. He was wearying of this game. The youngster had bruised him; Sedric had cut his mouth, and now this foolish chase. Not amusing. None of it.
He reached the main floor and scanned the foyer. No sign of Sedric. The door to the plaza was ajar and a chorus of dragon noises and people’s raised voices washed in. A young man’s voice was suddenly raised, the higher pitch cutting through the noise. ‘It’s as I told you! It’s not revenge. It’s self-preservation. They’ve given us no choice!’
No. Sedric would not seek out that sort of conflict, not right now. Sedric had no interest in politics. And he would have only one thing on his mind. He would want to be alone when Hest found him. The baths? It hurt his mouth to smile. Of course. What better site for reconciliation and reunion?
He pushed open the huge door to the room. It moved easily for such a large slab. Designed for the dragons who shared it, of course. He found it a rather disgusting concept but had no objection to bathing there when no dragons were about.
But one was. The immense creature, so dark blue as to be almost black, had just emerged from the water. The liquid was sheeting off his gleaming hide, running in rivulets onto the floor. It was obviously trying to leave via the door Hest had just entered. Hest halted where he stood and eyed the wet animal disdainfully. He crabbed a few steps sideways to try to see past him. ‘Sedric!’ he called.
Not here.
The dragon’s voice was a low rumble, the force of his thought against Hest’s mind almost stunning. Others had claimed to hear the dragons speaking to them, but he had dismissed those claims as the products of susceptible minds. But there was no mistaking this. The dragon had spoken to him and he had understood it. Fascinating. He halted and stared at him, Sedric forgotten for the moment.
The dragon clamour outside grew louder.
Move out of my way.
This close, he suddenly realized how magnificent a creature a dragon might be. Like a prize stud horse. Only much larger. As with a horse, he knew the key was to dominate it. ‘My name is Hest.’ He kept his words simple and spoke clearly. ‘Do you have a name, dragon? What does your owner call you?’
The animal cocked his immense head like a puzzled dog. Then he yawned, showing some extremely large teeth and the interior of his mouth patterned in scarlet and yellow. He exhaled strongly, a foul blast of meat-scented moisture. You are standing where I am going to walk. The others call to me.
Hest stood firm. ‘Dragon, come here.’ He extended his hand and pointed to a spot directly in front of him.
When Hest didn’t move, the dragon came a step nearer. Good. Obedience seemed to come to it easily. It spoke again. Davvie serves me. The dragon’s eyes seemed to whirl slowly, thoughtfully. Davvie does not like you. But I think I might.
Hest stood his ground, his mind spinning with new thoughts, as the creature came closer to him. The dragon obeyed him and he could understand what it said. The dragon might prefer him to Davvie. Better and better. Let the boy think on that when Hest took his dragon. Yes, and let Carson and Sedric mull it over, too. He imagined himself returning to Bingtown as an Elderling astride his own dragon. If he took the dragon, if he became an Elderling, would not he be able to claim his own place in Kelsingra, regardless of what Alise or Sedric thought of him?
