'Let it stay there. I'd like to watch with the dragon's eyes.'

She pulled him onto the bed, and as he pulled back her gown and pushed his way inside her, he forgot about Jehal and about the potions and there was only her. With the silk covering her eyes, it was easier to see Aliphera's face gasping beneath him.

He tried to slip out of her bed in the middle of the night, but she pulled him back and made him forget himself until the sun was creeping over the horizon once more. Then she slept, and Hyram lay wide-eyed and awake, staring at the ceiling, and at the two pairs of ruby eyes that stared down from the bedposts. Hadn't there been only one mechanical dragon the night before? He tried to remember and found that he couldn't. When he looked at his hands they were shaking. Not a lot, but enough that he could see it. Fear gripped him. Potions! He needed another draught already.

He dressed quickly and hurried away to his own rooms. The potions were still where he'd left them, waiting for him. He gulped down a mouthful and looked at what was left. Slowly but surely they were running out. He was getting through them faster than he had at the start.

Best not to think about that. Once all this was done, once Zafir was the next speaker, he could concentrate his energies on the alchemists. Find out what these potions were and where they came from. Make as much as he'd ever need. Yes. That was the way it would be. And he'd have to make Zafir speaker, because if he didn't, what then? To lose her was to lose everything now.

The potion took hold of him. The shaking went away and he felt strong again. He dressed himself properly and hurried to the Glass Cathedral, then stood at the altar and waited. He tried not to remember being here months ago, at his weakest, with Queen Shezira standing over him, cold as ice and hard as stone.

'Lord Hyram.' Out of the dark recesses of the church, the dragon-priests filed towards the altar. They formed a circle around him and bowed as one. They never once spoke of it, but he could feel their hunger for him, urging him to go the way of the speakers of old, on a pyre lit by dragon fire, his charred remains to be carted to the eyrie as fodder for the beasts.

'High Priest Aruch.' Hyram didn't bow. As speaker he was bound to respect the traditions of the Glass Cathedral, but as plain Lord Hyram he would treat them with the disdain they deserved. 'I have not come to be reforged, if that's what you're hoping.'

Aruch didn't move. 'Your Lordship was so close to the ultimate mysteries,' he whispered. 'So close. Closer than any speaker since the time of the Narammed. You are fallen, Lord Hyram. Fallen by the hand of woman. So tragic. You could have been one with us.'

'Oh please, anything but that. Cut out my organs while I'm still alive and take them to the eyrie. Even that would be preferable.'

'Your words are meant to wound, but you cannot pierce our scales, Lord Hyram. We pity you, now and forever.'

'You can do something else for me, Aruch, if you can spare the time. I intend to marry the woman you so despise.'

'We know. We are prepared. And we do not despise Queen Zafir. We despise no one, and all are welcome within our walls. Always.'

'Well, there will be a lot of us within your walls and sooner than you might have thought. The wedding is to come forward. Tomorrow, at dawn. Everyone is already here, so why not.' Yes. It was an impulse, but it felt right. Bring it forward, if only by a day. Let everyone know. Let the battle lines be drawn. Let all his enemies array themselves out in the open where he could see them. Antros would have done the same, and Shezira too. So be it. Hyram turned and strode out of the circle of kneeling priests.

'Some even find comfort here, if you remember,' murmured Aruch as he passed.

Hyram snorted.

'Some will, some won't. It will be interesting to see, don't you think?'

'Thy will be done, Lord Hyram. Thy will be done.'

As he left, he felt the priests silently rising and returning to their shadows.

Rebirth

They left the wagons still burning, the soldiers all dead and broken. Nadira watched as they shrank away into nothing, until even the pall of smoke was gone. She was a survivor; she prided herself on that. She'd had a husband, four children, the pox; she'd lost herself in Soul Dust and been attacked by dragons, raped by their riders and she'd survived it all. She thought about surviving for a long time as the dragons flew, and she thought about the soldier she'd killed, hammering his head with a stone until there was nothing left of his face. It had left her with a strange feeling, an empty floating sensation that she didn't understand.

She had no idea where they were any more except somewhere in the Worldspine. The mountains she was used to were huge towering things that glowered at one another and kept their distance across deep wide valleys. Here, everything seemed all squashed together. The mountains were piled up right next to each other, sometimes on top of each other. The valleys were more like ravines. No one could live here. Or that's what she thought until she saw the village.

The dragons passed over it and then turned and soared away. She could feel their excitement. No thoughts came to her but she knew they'd found what they were looking for. They spent the rest of the day hunting, gorged themselves, and when they were done they curled up on a tiny plateau to sleep. Nadira sat resting her back lightly against Snow's scales. The air up here was bitterly cold, but in places the dragon was almost too hot to touch. Kemir stood up, strung his bow and went off. She understood men like Kemir. He was strong. He brought food. He kept her alive and made her feel sale, and in return she would stay close to him. If he asked, she would close her eyes and imagine herself somewhere far away and give herself to him. As far as Nadira knew, that was the way of the world for someone like her, as good as it could be. She should count herself lucky.

He came back an hour later empty-handed, looked at her and shrugged an apology, then walked off again. After a while she got up and followed him. He was standing at the edge of a precipice looking out at the mountains. Away from the dragons, the cold air quickly worked it way through her clothes to her skin. She shivered and huddled next to Kemir.

'There's no food up here,' he said. 'We go hungry tonight.'

He didn't speak much, and usually she was glad of that. The dragons spoke even less. The white one said things to her sometimes. The black one only spoke as though she wasn't there. Hearing them inside her head had been a terror at first. Now, when they flew into a rage she flew into one too; apart from that, she barely noticed. They were all quiet company. She liked that, but not tonight.

'I've been hungry before. This is it, isn't it? They've found what they're looking for.'

Kemir nodded.

'Good.' It ought to frighten her, but it didn't. Instead, she felt a sharp stab of anticipation.

'Might be. Might not be.' Kemir shrugged. 'When they've done what they've come to do, I don't know what happens to us. They might leave us here. They might eat us.'

'I don't think so. We'll find some way to be useful to them.'

'We should run away again. They might not look for us this time.'

Nadira put her arms around his shoulders. 'Come back to the dragons. I'm cold.' When he talked at all, Kemir mostly talked about running away. She wasn't sure how much he meant it. They'd tried it the once, and that was all.

He shook her off, so she went back to the dragons on her own and curled up beside them to sleep. Kemir came back a few minutes later. He lay next to her, wide awake, staring at the stars.

'I was born in a settlement,' he said. 'I lived there until I was fifteen. Then the King of the Crags came. He was only a prince then. I wasn't there. I should have been, but I was off larking about with one of my cousins. When we came back, it was all gone. Nothing but ash. All we had was each other. On the day that you first saw me, they'd just killed him too. I can't run away. Not now. I want to see it all burn. They know that too, Snow and Ash. They know I'll stay.'