Page 123 of Kingdom of Dance

“Nobility,” Idric scoffed. “They are a weed upon the land. But I knew that you were blinded to that, by the affections that lingered in your memory from our last home. I knew the elders would not sanction me taking the steps that were necessary.”

He cast his eyes around the circle of dragons. “I have been accused of interfering with humans, but I have not used my magic to do anything they wouldn’t do themselves. I have merely given additional power to the plans already formed in the degenerate human mind. There has been no need to compel them to any action they hadn’t already considered. If you had been paying attention, you would have seen what I was trying to show you—that humans are evil and weak, and their only instinct is to destroy each other. Eliminating them swiftly would be a mercy.”

“We all sense the lie in your words,” Tanin told him. “You must feel it also. Perhaps what you say of your own actions was true a month ago. But not after today’s events. These humans you call feeble have resisted you to the point where you have become desperate, Idric. Today you tried to truly compel a human to do something she had no desire to do. It was not her heart that was evil, but yours.”

“And we’re not weak,” Zinnia said, surprising herself as much as the dragons with her bold interjection. “Our spark may be small compared to a dragon’s flame, but it is unquenchable, as you know better than anyone, Idric. We have a power you don’t.”

Her words were met with silence, many of the elders watching her thoughtfully, even a little warily. It was a surreal sensation.

After a moment, the dragons all returned their gaze to Idric, no one responding to Zinnia’s words. She had the sense that although they had conceded the humans’ right to be present, it was more a matter of adhering to their own principles than actually caring about either the opinion or the well-being of the humans concerned.

“By your own admission, you stand condemned,” Tanin told the accused dragon. “And by Rekavidur’s account, your offenses have been against your own kind as well as against the humans. I hold the view that your crimes are too grievous for atonement. I propose permanent banishment from the colony.”

One by one, each of the other elders expressed their support. “Perhaps he should be made to feel the weight on his shoulders,” one suggested. “We could banish him to dwell in the ocean for a century hence.”

“No.” Reka’s sharp protest drew every eye to him. “I know I am not an elder, and I have no right to support or oppose your rulings. But I beseech you—do not send a malicious dragon into the ocean.”

The elders looked surprised, but no one asked for further detail. “I do not think it necessary to define a place of banishment,” Tanin said. He looked thoughtful rather than confused as his eyes rested on Reka. “Idric is not to return to Solstice. Beyond that, the matter is not in our control.”

Idric looked furious, but to Zinnia’s surprise, he made no attempt to argue. Clearly he knew the elders’ ruling was final. All his plans must have been pinned on ultimately producing a display by the humans that would convince the other elders to come around to his view.

As to the punishment…the idea of him still out there in the world somewhere made her uneasy. But what else could the elders do? Idric was an immortal dragon—he couldn’t be killed.

“Idric,” said Tanin in a somber voice, “you are stripped of your position in the colony. We do not accept you or your magic. All you have made will be unmade.”

As one, the dragon elders all opened their mouths wide, every enormous head turned to Idric in their center. No flame issued from their jaws, but the air shimmered, and heat washed over Zinnia’s bare arms. She barely heard Idric’s roar of fury, all her attention focused on the shifting mass of something not quite visible—but nevertheless tangible—which settled around Idric like a net. The dragon thrashed his head back and forth, but to Zinnia’s experienced eye he looked angry rather than in pain.

She heard Obsidian’s sharp intake of breath and looked at him inquiringly.

“So much magic,” he breathed, passing a hand over his brow. “It’s hard to take.”

“What are they doing?” Zinnia asked.

“I think they’re undoing any active magic of Idric’s,” Obsidian said, his fascinated gaze passing to each dragon in turn. “He has all these tendrils of power going out from him. I couldn’t sense them before, but I can now that the other dragons’ magic has latched on to them. They’re severing them, one by one.”

Zinnia let out a long breath. Her sisters would be free.

She turned her gaze to the group of dragons, wondering dazedly if any other humans had ever witnessed this sight. Probably not. Even without being able to sense magic, she could still feel the weight of the moment.

All at once, something shifted. She couldn’t have articulated what changed, but she felt the new intensity that gripped the circle of elders. Shock and anger entered the dragons’ expressions, smoke curling from some of their nostrils.

Beside her, Obsidian drew another sharp breath. “They’re digging deeper,” he muttered. “They’ve found something much bigger than a tendril. It’s more like…” He struggled for words. “A network of roots, so solid there’s no gap. They’re pouring everything into breaking it…I can hardly handle the power.”

The words had barely left his mouth when his legs collapsed under him, and he dropped to his knees. Zinnia gave an inarticulate cry, throwing herself down to kneel beside him.

“Penny!”

At the alarmed exclamation, she spared a glance behind her. Princess Penny was prostrate on the floor, her husband gathering her anxiously into his arms as Zinnia watched. The elderly Fernedellian enchanter was standing not far behind her, and although he remained on his feet, he had his hands on his temples, and a look of intense strain on his face.

“What’s happening?” Zinnia demanded, turning back to Obsidian in alarm. “What are they doing to you?”

He just shook his head, clearly unable to speak. His fists were now on the ground next to his knees, and a grunt escaped him. Zinnia placed a hand on his shoulder, uncertain how to help. His muscles were shaking, tension evident in every line of his body. The dragon elders were still letting out their collective searing breath, and although Dannsair and Reka weren’t taking part, even they didn’t seem to have noticed the effect of the process on the human magic-users.

Obsidian gave a sudden shout, and life returned to his limbs as he ripped something out of his satchel and flung it away from him. Zinnia could see the smoking hole in the leather, and the burn on Obsidian’s hand. Another scar to match that on his jaw.

With no other way to assist him, she seized his hand and blew gently on the singed flesh. Obsidian leaned his head against her shoulder, the gesture communicating that he appreciated her presence, although he once again seemed unable to move or speak.

Colors burst before Zinnia’s eyes, drawing her gaze to the crystals which lay scattered on the floor. Not only did they glow in a dazzling array of color, but they were actually vibrating from the magic still pouring from the dragons’ jaws, directed at the disgraced elder.

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