“Name three,” Wiz snapped.
Bal-Simba ticked them off on his fingers. “We learned that none of the Mighty has ever encountered this thing before, nor, as far as we can find, have the hedge witches or any other human magician. That means that it struck first at the heart of the human lands. Which in turn means what happened was not some chance encounter but a planned attack with magic we have never seen. That suggests in turn that this thing has been biding its time while it honed its powers elsewhere. And that… but there are your three, Sparrow, and several besides.” “So what are we going to do about it?” “Scant choice in that, is there? We will fight this thing and I hope we shall defeat it. As to the details—” Bal-Simba shrugged “—those we shall decide in Council.” “I wonder if that bunch will ever decide anything.” “Unjust, Sparrow. True, the Council is a deliberative body but would you rather we dash off heedless and ignorant against an enemy who is clearly prepared for us?” Wiz looked at him narrowly. “You’re not real unhappy about the way things went tonight, are you?”
“There are worse paths to follow than to gain information before acting. As we know more I think the Council’s position will become more definite.”
And the worst of it is, Wiz thought as he turned down the hall to his quarters, he’s right. In spite of his loss and anger, Wiz understood Bal-Simbas caution. They desperately needed to know more about this strange enemy and there really was no good strategy that could be formulated until they knew more. From his time on the Council Wiz also understood that Bal-Simba had deliberately let the meeting drift so the Council would not commit foolishly to a plan. He knew all that, he understood the need for it and he didn’t like any of it. He opened his door and nearly tripped over his wife’s tail.
The dragon jerked its head upright with its neck taut. Then the eyes seemed to soften and the body relaxed as Moira asserted control.
“I’m sorry, love, you startled me.” “Sorry. I was thinking about something else.” The dragon slithered around to face him. “It did not go well?”
Wiz forced himself to look into the reptilian eyes. “Well enough, I guess. The Council didn’t decide anything, but at least they’re not going charging off on a wild goose chase. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”
Moira started at the change of subject. “I meant to, but first I wasn’t sure and then with the Winter Fair coming on, I didn’t want you to worry.”
“I wish you had told me.”
Moira sighed, a great sulfurous sigh. “I wish I had too.”
Instinctively Wiz moved to take Moira in his arms, but the only part of her he could get his arms around was her long scaly neck and that put her head well above his. She lowered her head and he adjusted his grip to just behind her ears but found he couldn’t look at her that way. He settled for dropping into a chair and Moira resting her head in his lap.
One side of Wiz’s mouth twitched up in what might have passed for a smile. “Some technical problems here.”
“I Know,” Moira said sadly. “I’m afraid the bedroom is a mess. When I got back my first thought was to throw myself on the bed and cry. But the bed was not made to support this body’s weight and I am afraid we shall both nave to sleep on the floor tonight.”
“That’s all right.”
Moira twisted around to look at him. “Do you know dragons cannot cry? No matter how sad they are, or how miserable or how frightened, they cannot cry.”
Wiz felt the tears flowing down his own cheeks. “I guess…” He took a deep breath. “I guess I’ll have to do the crying for both of us.”
Then his head came up. “I swear I’ll get you back. I don’t care who’s behind it, I’ll get you back and make them pay!”
“I know you will, love,” Moira said simply and snuggled her head into his lap.