Seraphina(107)

“Well, go fetch her, would you? She’s standing in the snow in her ball slippers, and she’s going to freeze.”

I had not realized until that moment how cold I was. I didn’t even have a cloak. Kiggs approached me, but I would not tear my eyes away from the sky battle. Imlann flew a little further east with each pass; soon they were going to be fighting above the city. If Orma was unwilling to risk the life of one little boy, was he really going to drop Imlann onto buildings full of people? My heart sank still lower.

The cathedral bells began to toll, a pattern not heard in forty years: the ard-call. Dragons! Take cover!

“Phina,” said Kiggs. “Come inside.”

I wouldn’t be able to see the dragons from the cave mouth, the way they were positioned now. I stepped away from him, into even deeper snow. Kiggs came after me and put a hand on my arm, as if he’d drag me back, but his eyes were on the lightening sky as well. “Who is that third dragon?”

I suspected I knew, but I did not have the energy to explain.

“It’s hovering uselessly,” said Kiggs. “If it were an embassy dragon, I’d expect it to side with your teacher.”

That last word jarred me. I’d expected him to say “uncle,” truly. I had told the truth right in front of him, and he could not, or would not, believe it. He was offering me an easy way back to normal, and I was sorely tempted. It would have been so simple not to correct him, to let it go. It would have been effortless.

But I had kissed him, and I had told the truth, and I was changed.

“He’s my uncle,” I said, loudly enough to ensure Glisselda heard it also.

Kiggs did not let go of my arm, although his hand seemed to turn to wood. He looked to Glisselda; I did not see what expression she wore. He said, “Phina, don’t joke. You saved us. It’s over.”

I stared at him until he met my eye. “If you’re going to demand the truth from me, you could at least have the courtesy to believe it.”

“It can’t be true. That doesn’t happen.” His voice caught; he’d gone pink to his ears. “That is, what Aunt Dionne might have been planning … I’ll allow that that happens. Maybe, sometimes.”

It had been about to happen at Lady Corongi’s suggestion, too, I suddenly realized.

“But interbreeding is surely impossible,” Kiggs continued stubbornly. “Cats and dogs, as they say.”

“Horses and donkeys,” I said. The cold wind made my eyes water. “It happens.”

“What did you say about my mother, Lucian?” asked Glisselda, her voice tremulous.

Kiggs didn’t answer. He released my arm but didn’t walk away. His eyes widened. I followed his gaze in time to see Orma pull out of a drop barely in time, shearing off a chimney and a tavern roof with his tail. The sound of the crash reached our ears a moment later along with the screaming of panicked citizens.

“Saints in Heaven!” cried Glisselda, who had come closer behind us without my hearing, clutching her side. “Why won’t that one help him?”

In fact, “that one” was gliding lazily back toward us. He grew larger and larger, finally landing just downhill from us; a gust of brimstone wind forced us back a step. He stretched his snaky neck, and then proceeded to do the opposite of what Imlann had done, collapsing in upon himself, cooling and condensing into a man. Basind stood stark naked in the snow, rubbing his hands together.

“Saar Basind!” I cried, even though I knew how futile it was to be furious with him. “You’re leaving Orma to be killed. Change back at once!”

Basind’s eyes swiveled toward me, and I stopped short. His gaze was sharp; his motions were smooth and coordinated as he picked his way toward me through the snow. He flicked his lank hair out of his eyes and said, “This fight has nothing to do with me, Seraphina. I’ve gathered the pertinent data on your uncle, and now I get to go home.”

I gaped at him. “You’re—you’re from the—”

“The Board of Censors, yes. We test your uncle regularly, but he’s been tough to catch. He usually notices and spoils the test. This time he was experiencing excessive emotionality on several fronts at once; he could not keep up his vigilance. The Ardmagar has already ordered Orma’s excision, of course, saving me the trouble of having to argue the case.”


“What has Orma done?” asked Glisselda, behind me. I turned; she stood on a stony outcrop, looking surprisingly regal as the sky turned pink and gold behind her.

“He put his half-human niece before his own people multiple times,” said Basind, sounding bored. “He showed several emotions in quantities exceeding permissible limits, including love, hatred, and grief. He is, even now, losing a battle he could easily win, out of concern for a human boy he doesn’t even know.”

Orma was thrown against the bell tower of the cathedral while Basind spoke, crushing the belfry roof with his back. Slate and wood hit the bells, adding cacophony to the ard-call, which still pealed forth from churches all over the city.

“I offer him asylum,” said Glisselda, crossing her arms over her chest.

Basind lifted an eyebrow. “He’s ruining your city.”

“He’s fighting a traitor to his own kind. Imlann tried to kill the Ardmagar!”

Basind shrugged his bony shoulders. “Truly, that concerns me not a bit.”