Not one of the twenty-five Samsamese ships escaped the flames. The four younger dragons then flew to the top of the Sisters, the double-peaked mountain that loomed over the city to the north, where I had once seen Camba hurling crates. They retained their natural forms, but whether they were threatening the city or defending it was not clear.
Only Brisi returned to the square, fluttering her wings like a clumsy hummingbird and managing to land without crushing anyone. The crowd had dwindled, but the members of the Assembly lingered in the pronaia of the Vasilikon, anger spelled as clearly as horror on their faces. Brisi did not shrink down but arched her neck and spread her wings, striking a pose before the Agogoi, as if that might impress them.
“Hatchling,” called an authoritative voice in Mootya. “What have you done?”
Approaching us from the east, Ardmagar Comonot strode across the Zokalaa with an air of utter calm. He extended one hand toward Brisi, as if she were a spooked horse, and reiterated in Porphyrian for the crowd: “What have you done?”
“I burned!” cried Brisi, flapping her wings.
“But you don’t burn now,” said Comonot solemnly, understanding her statement differently than I had. “What does your reason tell you, hatchling?”
Brisi closed her nictitating eyelid, a veil across her confusion. “I—I don’t feel it now.”
“Quite correct. We all require that you shrink yourself down,” said the Ardmagar. “And that your collaborators do likewise.”
The young dragon did not answer, but collapsed in on herself, wings and horns and fangs telescoping inward until she had condensed into human form again. Comonot handed her her clothing, and she dressed quickly, shamefacedly, muttering, “I thought …”
“You felt,” Comonot corrected her gently. “Very strongly, it seems.”
She was feeling again, clearly; she trembled all over and could barely tie her robe. “The others were following me, Ardmagar. Let their blame be ascribed to me.”
“That is not mine to grant,” said Comonot. “The Assembly must try your crimes.”
“The Assembly will require no deliberation on this point,” said Speaker Melaye. She strode out of the crowd of Agogoi, her silken draperies billowing around her, and ascended to the top of the Vasilikon steps like an avenging ghost. “You’ve effectively started a war with Samsam. An act of war against the interests of the state is treason, and treason is our only capital crime.”
“You can’t execute her. She’s a child!” cried a hoarse voice from across the Zokalaa, and we turned to see Ikat running toward us, straight from Pende’s bedside. Saar Lalo helped clear her a path through the crowd. Ikat reached the steps of the Vasilikon and took the errant Brisi in her arms, scolding her. “I should have bitten you,” she muttered. “I still might!”
Comonot stared in bafflement at this display of maternal anger and affection.
Speaker Melaye shook her shaved head. “This ‘child’ is almost sixty years old.”
“I know it seems strange to you,” said Ikat, stroking Brisi’s hair as Brisi wept into her shoulder. “It’s just as strange to me that she loves this city. Destroying the Samsamese may have been treason, but she did it for you.”
“I accept my punishment!” cried Brisi, pushing her mother away. “I would rather die than go to the Tanamoot, or live with my cold, terrible dragon mind all the time.”
Speaker Melaye grimaced, an unexpected spark of pity in her eyes. “Colibris, daughter of Ikat, you and your collaborators are banished from Porphyry, effective immediately. Go where you will; let us never look on you again.” She turned her back on the saarantrai; the other Agogoi followed her indoors.
Brisi collapsed in tears, but Comonot was beside her in an instant, along with Ikat and Lalo, helping her to her feet, directing her steps back toward Metasaari. Comonot spotted me watching and called out, “Sunset can’t come soon enough.”
I waved acknowledgment and hurried to the harborside for my things.
At Naia’s, I was surprised to find Abdo sitting on the couch, eating a dark red plum and reading. He closed the book and jumped up to greet me, looking so happy that my heart contracted painfully. “You seem more yourself,” I said, my voice unsteady.
He smiled ruefully. I have a feeling Jannoula will be occupied with Paulos Pende for a while. Surely he’ll give her a good fight.
“What were you reading?” I asked.
Abdo shrugged his narrow shoulders and shoved the last of the plum into his mouth. An old book on meditation. Understanding Emptiness, by Mollox. Haven’t opened it in years. Something Pende said got me thinking. I don’t know. I don’t want to get your hopes up.
“Making your mind water,” I said, remembering. “What does that mean?”
He shrugged again and spit the plum pit into his hand. So you’re leaving?
I sighed. “Forgive me if I can’t tell you much.”
No, I understand. It’s just … He began blinking rapidly, and then I found that my eyes, too, were stinging. Abdo wrapped his skinny arms around my middle. His head came up to my breastbone; I bent down and kissed his hair knots.
“I’m going to find a way to help you all against Jannoula,” I said quietly.
He let me go and grinned impishly. Not if I find it first.
It felt like a thousand years since I’d seen his smile. That pure, shining distillate of happiness cut me to the heart.