The gates swung open and we walked into the courtyard. A second pair of gates creaked open at our approach. The soldier halted and pointed at the gateway. I was meant to keep going on my own.
I marched through the doors and into a throne room, lit by glass globes dripping from the walls. The floor glistered. At first glance it looked like glass, but no, it was gold. Melted down and allowed to cool into a perfectly smooth surface that gleamed with a mirror sheen. A man-made stream wound its way through the floor in a gentle curve, only a couple of inches deep. Gems lined the creek bed, gleaming in the water: red rubies, green emeralds, blue sapphires, purple amethysts, light-green peridots . . . A fortune in precious jewels, cast there like sea glass at the bottom of a fish tank.
A throne dominated the far wall, carved from the bones of some enormous creature into the shape of a dragon in profile. A red gem the size of a grapefruit sat in the dragon’s eye socket. It felt warm and suffused with magic, as if it were somehow alive. I brushed it with my magic and it sparked off my power. Wow. It was condensed magic, so potent it felt like a tiny sun.
The anchor. The arrogant bastard had his anchor right there, just past his front door.
Neig waited for me on the throne, dressed in full regalia, his fur cape draped over his armor, the golden torque bright. To his left, a long table offered a feast. Roasted meat, golden bread, fruit, wine. The aroma made my mouth water.
“Should’ve colored the water in your stream red,” I told him.
“A river of blood?” he said. His voice enveloped me, deep and vibrating with power.
“It would be more honest.”
“But you wouldn’t be able to see the beauty of the jewels.” He indicated the table with a sweep of his hand. “Please. Sate your hunger.”
Nice try. I did my Erra sneer. “Really?”
Neig smiled, betraying a hint of sharp teeth. The table vanished. Okay then.
He stepped off the throne and approached me. I’d clocked him at about six-six, six-seven before. I was off by about half a foot. He towered over me.
“I wish to give you a tour of my domain.”
“Oh goody.”
We strolled out of the throne room into a hallway of enormous arched windows.
“Are you a man or a dragon?” I asked him.
“I’m both.”
“But what were you born as?”
“It was a long time ago. I do not remember. Some of us were born with talons, others with hands, but we are all Dragon.”
“What are Dragon?”
“An ancient race. We were here when humans crawled out of the mud. We watched you try to walk upright and bang rocks against each other, trying to make claws and teeth.”
Yeah, right. “You’re not that old.”
He grinned again. Tiny streaks of smoke escaped his mouth. Awesome. If I got too cold, I could ask him to breathe on me.
“Why do you want to conquer?” I asked.
“Why would I not?”
“You brought me here to convince me to join you. So far, you’re doing a terrible job of it.”
“You’re an interesting creature, Daughter of Nimrod.”
“The name is Kate Lennart. I’m not defined by being my father’s daughter.”
“But you’re defined by your husband’s name.”
“I chose that name. I decided I wanted it.”
His thick eyebrows came together.
“If you’re not going to answer any questions, this will be a very one-sided conversation,” I told him.
“Very well. I will answer your question. I want to conquer because it pleases me. I like to rule, I like to own, and I like to be acknowledged as the supreme power.”
“Your conquest will cost hundreds of thousands of lives. Millions.”
“Human lives.”
“Yes.”
“There are always more humans,” he said. “There is never a shortage.”
We passed from the hallway into a massive room. Shelves lined the fifty-foot walls. Books filled the shelves, thousands and thousands of books: some bound in leather, some hidden in scroll tubes, papyrus, clay tablets, Chinese bamboo books, long strips of animal hide sheltered by wooden covers . . . Above it all, a skylight spilled a stream of sunlight into the middle of the room, never touching the precious volumes. My father would kill himself out of jealousy.
“Have you read any of these?”
“Yes.”
“Were they written by humans?”
“Most of them.”
“Then you saw into their minds. You know that each human is unique. Once you kill one, there will never be another one exactly like it.”
Neig stepped to the shelf and pulled out a heavy tome, bound in leather and inlaid with gold. The writing on the cover resembled Ashuri script, but the ancient Hebrews wrote on scrolls, not in bound books. Neig stepped to the window. It swung open in front of him and he tossed the book outside.
“Wait!” I lunged for the window and saw the book plunge down and disappear into mists somewhere far below.
“Fifty humans wrote that book,” Neig said, and indicated the library with a sweep of his hand. “Is my collection any less magnificent?”
I sighed.
“Why do you care?” he asked. “You are more powerful than them. You are faster, stronger, better in every way. I watched you kill. You enjoy it.”
“I kill to protect myself and others. I don’t begin violence, I respond to it.”
“Why not kill for pleasure?”
“Because I find pleasure in other ways. When I see people prospering and enjoying their lives, it makes me happy.”
He puzzled over me and resumed his walk. I followed him.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because when people prosper, the world is safer. There are pleasures in the world that you have never dreamed of. Why do you read books?”
“To understand those I wish to subjugate.”
“Bullshit. You’re stuck here, in a place where time has no meaning, with nothing to do. You read because you are bored.”
He laughed. Every hair on the back of my neck stood on end. The sharp, cold punch of alarm hit me low in the gut. Note to self: avoid laughing dragons.
“If you conquer everyone, life will be boring and empty of all meaning. There will be no more books to read or fun conversations to be had.”
“It will take some time to conquer the world. In the meantime, I will be greatly entertained.”
“Have you tried actually walking around among people?”
We passed out of the library into another large room. Heaps of gold leaned against the walls. Coins, nuggets, jewelry. He was showing me his hoard. How predictable.
“I have, when I was young,” he said. “I lived with humans for half a century. I’ve learned that you are weak, stupid, and easily cowed. Given the chance, you would rather fight each other than unite against a threat. I’ve never seen creatures who hate themselves so much.”
“Then you’re in for a surprise,” I said.
“The twisted furry things you fought and killed,” he said. “My slave-hounds.”
“The yeddimur.”
“Each started its life as a human babe. Each inhaled the fumes of my venom. Now they are beasts, primitive and filthy. They know nothing except rage and hunger. They eat their own. That is the true nature of humanity. I simply brought it to the surface.”
Ahead, double doors opened before us.
“Let me show you my power,” he said.
We walked through the door onto a balcony. The valley below spread before us, covered in odd blue vegetation. I squinted.
He passed me a spyglass. I looked through it.
Warriors. They stood packed next to each other like sardines. Miles and miles of warriors standing completely still.
Oh God.
“My army,” he said. “In my domain, there is no time, no hunger, and no thirst, unless I will it to be. Here I rule uncontested.”
They stood in squares, two, four, six, twenty men per row. Twenty by twenty equaled four hundred. How many squares? One, two, three . . .
“They sleep until I call them. They’ve waited for thousands of your years, but for them it is a blink.”
. . . Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three . . .
“Their muscles are trained; their skills are sharp. They live to battle in my name.”