The Dragon's Path

stone of the promontory like a bit of child’s ribbon dropped to the ground. Time and weather had eaten away the stone itself, leaving stretches of a hundred feet or more where the road curved out into the empty air with nothing but caution to hold travelers to the path. The biting spring wind didn’t come from any of the four points of the compass, but only down from the city or up from the plain below. The caves and shacks that clung to the face of the stone often needed rough wooden bridges to reach the road itself. The constant ache in Geder’s legs distracted him, and the bulk of stone and rough brush obscured his view, so that until they were nearlyat the last turn he didn’t notice the Kingspire growing larger, the walls of the city gaining bulk. Instead, the great, shining arches and grand towers seemed to appear from nothing, a city built of dreams.
    The southern gate was narrow, hardly more than a slit in the high grey stone with doors of worked bronze and dragon’s jade that slid aside to allow passage. Just outside the doors, a dozen men in enameled plate sat on warhorses with barding that matched their riders.
    As Geder and Jorey drew near, the men drew their swords. The blades flashed in the afternoon sun, and Geder’s heart thudded in his chest like a fox in a trap. Here was the moment he’d been anticipating and dreading. Jorey nodded him forward with a smile that Geder couldn’t quite interpret. It didn’t matter. Geder swallowed his fear and rode trembling to his surrender wishing he’d remembered to put on his good leather cloak.
    A single figure strode out of the shadows where the road passed through the wall. Though he wasn’t mounted, the man commanded the attention of all those assembled. He was Firstblood, and older. His temples were grey, his face sharp and intelligent. The way he held himself gave the impression of being taller than the horsemen. Geder encouraged his gelding forward. Up close, there was no mistaking Jorey’s father. Their eyes were the same shape, and the set of their jaws. He looked down at Dawson Kalliam.
    “Sir Palliako,” the elder Kalliam said.
    Geder nodded.
    “It is my honor to welcome you to the Undying City,” Dawson Kalliam said. And then, sharply, “Honors!”
    The horsemen lifted their swords in salute. Geder squinted at them. He’d never seen someone of noble blood called tothe king’s justice, but this wasn’t how he’d expected it to be. From nowhere, voices rose together in a long, celebratory cry. And strangest of all, snowflakes began skirling down from the broad blue sky.
    No. Not snowflakes. Flower petals. Geder looked up, and from at the top of the walls, hundreds of people looked back. Geder lifted an uncertain hand, and the crowd above him roared.
    “Coe will see to your mount,” Dawson said. “We have a litter waiting.”
    It took a moment to understand, but then Geder slid to the ground, letting Jorey’s father lead him into the twilight break between the city walls. He didn’t think to ask who Coe might be.
    The litter was ornate, bearing the crest and colors of House Kalliam, but with a blaze of cloth on either side in the grey and blue of Palliako. It had two velvet-upholstered chairs facing each other, and eight Tralgu squatted by the poles. Dawson took the seat that faced backward. Geder pushed a lock of greasy hair back from his eyes. His legs were trembling from the ride. The arrow slits and murder holes all through the city wall were crowded with smiling eyes.
    “I don’t understand,” Geder said.
    “A few of my friends and I have sponsored your revel. They’re traditional for a leader returning from military victory.”
    Geder turned around slowly. Something heavy seemed to have taken root in his belly, and the high stone rising above him tilted a little, like a young tree in a high wind. His mouth was dry.
    “Victory?” he said.
    “The sacrifice of Vanai,” Dawson said. “Bold and commanding. It was a braver decision than this kingdom has seen in a generation, and there are those of us who would see that fierceness return to Antea.”
    In Geder’s mind, a woman crawled up over the walls of the dead city, flames leaping behind the darkness of her body. In his memory, she fell. The roar of the flames filled his ears again as if it had followed him, and his vision narrowed. That was a
victory
? Wide Tralgu hands took his shoulder and guided him into his seat. He stared dumbly at Dawson as the litter shifted