74 Anna's Return

Ahnkar watched him leave, then the banded dragon's eyes turned to meet mine, a question in their depths. I met that gaze, my expression grimly neutral, letting him come to his own conclusions as to the truth to the rumors. He winced visibly, his eyes dropping.

Swell allies you have there, Ahnkar. Been feeling like you need to take a bath, lately?

It took several moments for the current Council Eldest to get his thoughts back in order, but eventually he did, his gaze returning to Lady Dithra. "And what is the complaint against the one currently holding the position you desire?"

Damn it, he's still going by the rules! What the hell does he have? my human side raged. Only half-listening to the debate, my eyes studied draconic faces, postures, the area immediately surrounding Ahnkar. It has to be here somewhere, close at hand. . . .

"Our complaint against you, Ahnkar, is in your handling of the problem of the humans," replied Dithra, finally abandoning that third-person nonsense. "You would, in your own words, have us launch ourselves at them blindly, to hopelessly die with our fangs locked in their throat. The major strength in both the Council and in the clans find this to be a pointless gesture of revenge, and seek another way. My alternative, though many may choke on it, at least offers some scrap of the hope that your way does not. This is our complaint."

There! Between Ahnkar's forelegs! See that ripple? It's that damned illusion of empty air again! Shit! What could Ahnkar be hiding there, some sort of weapon? No; dragons don't use . . . what the hell is it? I jerked my eyes to Dithra, started to open my jaws to shout a warning, then yanked them shut again when a full dozen of the dragons surrounding Ahnkar tensed, their eyes staring at me expectantly. Damn it, I couldn't stop this, not without giving Ahnkar the excuse he so desperately needed. Gnashing my teeth, I kept silent as I watched that small ripple in the air between Ahnkar's forelegs, every muscle quivering as I waited for the explosion.

Ahnkar had seen my agitation and had paused for a moment, waiting to see if I would commit myself. When I didn't he continued, a faint mocking tone creeping into his voice. "If I may respectfully differ with you, Lady Dithra, I believe that it is not that I intend to make war upon the humans that troubles many, but rather whether we possess the means to succeed in such a war. If we did not possess those means, then any war I would think to launch could quite possibly be hopeless, as you have charged. However . . ." The banded dragon lifted a forepaw, made a small gesture, and the small, rippling distortion in the air between his forelegs fell apart, revealing what lay hidden within. ". . . those means are available to us."

The floor beneath my feet made a scrunch sound, chips of broken concrete sent flying as my talons dug in. I stared in horror at the human toddler, wearing a little plaid dress that had seen far better days, sitting in front of Ahnkar and looking for all the world like a mouse between the forepaws of a lion.

ANNA!

Again Ahnkar paused, his eyes glinting expectantly at me as he waited for me to break protocol and give him his victory. Trembling like a horse in a thunderstorm, I forced myself to subside. The Council Eldest gave me a disappointed look, then continued. "There have been many setbacks; this I freely admit. At times we were tempted to despair, to believe that the Ancestors themselves had turned against us. Then we find her." He looked down at Anna, his gaze almost loving. The little girl didn't react, but continued to look straight ahead, her eyes half-closed and her expression faintly puzzled.

Suddenly finding herself in unknown skies, Dithra had given me a startled, questioning look when I'd reacted to Anna. Now she turned back to the banded dragon. "We fail to see precisely how a small human child scarcely past her first Spring supports your cause, Lord Ahnkar," she temporized, struggling to understand the situation.

"No?" Ahnkar queried, his mocking tone growing stronger. He lifted a forepaw and studied it as one of his claws glowed, then flared brightly with a fierce nimbus of red-orange Power. Without a word, he then swung that deadly claw downward, directly at Anna's somnolent form before I could react.

There was a brilliant flash and an earsplitting crack, then Ahnkar was yanking his forepaw away, quietly hissing in pain. There was a stunned moment of silence, then an amazed murmur started around us as everyone stared at the eye-searingly bright skein of blue-black Power that wrapped protectively about the tiny child for a few seconds more before fading back into invisibility. "Then perhaps we should ask the one known as Hasai why he went to such great lengths to conceal and protect this child," he thundered.

Dithra stared at Anna, then turned to look at me, her eyes filled with consternation. That murmur about us increased in volume, and I could almost feel the power blocs in the room beginning to shift and realign, like sand sifting beneath my feet as Ahnkar continued. "This little one is indeed small, but she most certainly possesses the blood of the Lung; possibly even more strongly than Hasai himself does." His eyes lifted, slowly scanned the room. "We have indeed had setbacks, but we still move forward. It will take longer than we hoped just a short time ago, but in the end we will have the children that we need, to both replenish our race and to act as our fangs and claws when we wrest our homelands back from the accursed humans!"

Cannon fodder. Forever cannon fodder, whispered the dark wraith, its words sad instead of sarcastic for once as the mutterings around us grew steadily louder. I shook my head; the motion caught Ahnkar's eye, and the Council Eldest's head swung to me, his eyes studying me for a long moment before he spoke. "Unless she decides to press her case, we will allow the Lady Dithra to withdraw." He glanced dismissively at the silently seething Dithra, then once again back to me, his gaze growing intent. "The way will be difficult, and much grief will be ours before we taste victory," the banded dragon said in a quieter voice. He glanced down at the toddler he surrounded so protectively with his forelegs. "In the end, we will comprehend and overcome her defenses, young Hasai, and then she will learn much that no child should have to know, of war, of pain, of loss." He paused, then signaled regret, his eyes never leaving mine. "Her ordeal would be greatly reduced, however, if there were others of her blood with her, to support her, and perhaps shield her altogether from what must come. What say you, young Hasai? Will she fly alone, or will you be there with her?"

Damn him, was he actually trying to get me to switch sides this late in the game? At least I now knew why the Council had never attempted the last-ditch assault I was so sure they would launch; they were far too busy back-tracing through my family tree. I stared at Ahnkar, and for long seconds all I could think of was how bitterly I regretted not killing him when I had the chance. At last given permission to speak, I opened my jaws. "Children. Why is it always the children with you, Lord Ahnkar?"

The banded dragon flinched at that, and several of his faction hissed angrily. A slight motion from him and they subsided. He gave me a steady look, then lifted his head higher, exposing his throat and the scars marking it. "Remember this, young Hasai? You had a chance at it once, and you will have a chance at it again, someday, when I can afford to answer for the pain I have caused." Ahnkar lowered his head, his eyes boring into mine. "In the meantime, we have asked you a question. We await your answer."

I stared at him, my mind ice, my heart ice, my very spirit ice. Ahnkar. To me, his very name brought images of a shattered egg, dismembered infants, and of a Quetzalcoatl with feathers of opalescent green and eyes of gold lying limply in the mud with her throat torn out. Children whom I hadn't seen leave their shells and greet the sun, and a daughter whom I would never see at all. A soldier with haunted eyes, who rarely smiled and spoke more rarely still. All these I laid at his feet. Stealing away my niece to use as a pawn in the pursuit of his twisted dream was the last straw, the final act of war. Yes; I indeed had an answer for the banded dragon.

From out of the past, echoing like a voice in a fevered dream, Dithra's words came back to me from a conversation we had not all-that long ago. If you wish to declare Blood Feud . . . know that I will place both myself and all of my resources at your disposal. . . .

Blood Feud. A war between bloodlines, to the death. Dithra had fought to prevent this from the day I first mentioned the term to her, and had failed. Here, now, alone against Ahnkar and all his kin and allies, I knew I hadn't a prayer. But still, as I looked into his eyes, I also knew that I could at least take him with me. Let Justice be done, even if the heavens fall. . . .

"Do not, young one," murmured Ahnkar in a strangely sympathetic voice, seemingly reading my thoughts. "My death is sure, that I will admit. But you will most assuredly fall as well, and all that must be will still occur, only without you there to protect those whom you cherish. I beseech you, young Hasai; do not."

I stared at him, then my eyes dropped to gaze blindly at the scarred concrete between my feet. The vast room had quieted to the point of almost total silence, save for the occasional movements of large, armored bodies as they awaited my answer. Beside me I could feel Dithra's anguished presence, but for all the help she could offer me now, she might as well have been on the far side of the moon. I felt despair eating at my heart.

I was alone. Again.

. . . . If you wish to declare Blood Feud . . . .

I thought of Ashadh, Dahiric, of the humans whom I'd known and cared for, and, finally, of Pasqual. I said goodbye to them all. Then I lifted my head, stared bleakly into Ahnkar's waiting face, that old, dark, nihilistic joy flooding into me, my fangs baring themselves in a carnivore's grin as I prepared to give him my answer; one that would rock the world and everything living upon it.

There is another way.

I blinked, closed my jaws on the words I had been so very close to speaking as the dark wraith that was my human half began throwing information at me, knowledge gleaned from a dozen conversations with Stefan, and in particular one long evening as I lay deathly ill in Dithra's abode. Slowly I rose to my feet, my posture shifting to a far more formal, far older one, one designed to send just one message. Challenge.

"Whose head is held highest here?"

Dead silence, then a long sibilants as dozens of draconic throats drew a sudden breath at the sound of those ancient words. Ahnkar sat immobile, his form still as stone, his eyes pools of disbelief. Dithra stared at me in utter astonishment. A savage grin fought to stretch the corners of my hard mouth as that black joy soared within me. I said it again.