Mistress of Dragons by Margaret Weis Read Free Book Online Page B

was
murdered.”
    The
dragons exchanged uneasy glances. They did not know what to say. Rumor had it
that the family’s terrible shame had driven Braun’s father—Maristara’s son—mad.
No one knew precisely what had happened. The dragon’s broken and twisted body
had been found at the base of a cliff. It was assumed that he had gone crazy
and ended his life by flying headlong into the mountain.
    Braun
knew what they were thinking. He could see into every mind and he said
defiantly, “He was not murdered by his mother, Maristara. She never leaves her
realm. Yet he was murdered by a dragon. Someone who is in league with
Maristara, protecting her and shielding her.”
    “This
is a most serious accusation, Braun,” said Anora. The images in her mind
flickered orange. “Not since the Dragon Wars has one of our kind shed the blood
of another. I find it very hard to believe. What possible motive—?”
    “A
taste for human flesh,” Braun answered. The dragons shifted, restless,
uncomfortable. They didn’t want to hear this, the dirty secret of Dragonkind.
All dragons have a taste for human flesh. Once in the long ago, humans had been
hunted nearly to extinction. One reason for the Parliament, one reason for
laws, one reason for Draconas.
    “What
proof do you have, Braun?” said Anora, clearly skeptical.
    “My
father had long been trying to find some means to bring about Maristara’s
downfall. He said that it was plain to him that Parliament was incapable of
dealing with her—” Rumblings at this, but no one spoke outright. “—and so, as
her family, the responsibility fell to us. He began to investigate, to find out
everything he could about her, about this unfortunate kingdom, about the
ill-fated attack. He studied the attack, spoke to survivors, and he reached two
conclusions: The first, that the humans had used our own magic against us. The
second, that Maristara had been warned of our coming. The only being who could
have warned her was one of us, another dragon.”
    He
halted, glanced around, but no one contradicted him.
    “My
father theorized that whoever was spying on us for Maristara was being well
paid for the information. He asked himself, what does she have that any of us
could possibly want? Gold, jewels. Bah!”
    He
paused as images of sweet flesh formed in their minds. “She has humans.”
    The
silence was profound. Everyone kept his or her thoughts submerged.
    “My
father began to ask questions, to pry and meddle. ‘He’s gone mad’—that’s what
you said. ‘Let them think me mad,’ he told me. ‘They’ll soon see true madness.’
He received information that pointed to a certain dragon.”
    “What
is the name?” demanded Anora, sharp-edged. “I don’t know,” said Braun, and a
sigh of relief passed softly among the dragons. “He wouldn’t tell me, wouldn’t
blacken the name of a noble family until he was certain. The night he left to
question this dragon was the night he died, a death that came very conveniently
for someone.”
    “He
should have come to the Parliament,” said Anora. “Would you have listened?”
Braun countered. “We are listening—”
    “Now
that he is dead.”
    Anora
looked around. No one met her eye. Tails twitched and wings stirred. Talons scratched
the floor, tails thumped, and scales rippled.
    “We
need proof,” said Anora.
    “And
that is why I am here, Minister. Members,” said Braun, lifting his head
proudly, “I did not come seeking your pity. I came because I have a plan.”
    His
bright eyes fixed on Draconas, who stood calmly, resting easily on the balls of
his feet, waiting patiently for his part. “Well, what is this plan?” Anora
asked, when Braun did not immediately speak.
    “I
would ask to tell it only to you, Minister,” said the young dragon. “You and
Draconas.”
    Colors
of anger and outrage from the assembled dragons burst upon Draconas. He
instinctively raised his hand to shut them out, as he might raise his hand to
block