"Where are my childern?"

That evening, there was a knock at my door. I opened it to find Stefan there with an elderly, European-looking lady at his side. She was a hard-looking woman; something like Margaret Thatcher with a stronger jaw, conservatively yet expensively dressed in a grey-green business suit and looking for all the world like someone you'd meet in the boardroom of a major multinational corporation.

Then I reached the cool emerald eyes, felt the impact of the personality behind them, and bowed. "My Lady."

She smiled slightly, and inclined her head. "Dear Hasai. May I enter?"

"Of course." I stepped aside. As she passed the threshold, Dithra turned and looked at Stefan. In response he bowed slightly and retreated down the hall. I closed the door behind her and we took seats at my work table, silently staring at each other for several long moments.

Finally she spoke. "Stefan has communicated your . . . concerns."

"Yes, my Lady?"

Her eyes glinted with annoyance. "Hasai, I had nothing to do with these assaults upon your person. Surely you must believe that."

"I am inclined to do so, my Lady, but who else would be so interested in capturing me alive?"

"Perhaps your American government. Perhaps your indiscretions of the past did not go as unnoticed as we had hoped."

I chuckled grimly. "My Lady, I am sworn to their service. If they wanted me, all they need do is order me to report. No," I sighed, "they would not be so clumsy. It is definitely our kind, operating through hired intermediaries. And if it is not you, my Lady Dithra, then who? Someone else among your council of elders, perhaps? Goodness knows I saw enough dissention among them. Or could it be some other group?"

Dithra glared at me with considerably less warmth than just a few moments ago. "I do not know, but you may rest assured, young Hasai, that I will find out."

I looked at her silently for the space of several breaths, hating what I would have to say next. "Dithra, how can I possibly trust you?"

For a frozen moment I thought my life was over. Dithra's head snapped back, and her eyes flared. The atmosphere in the room suddenly felt supercharged, as if a bolt of lightning were about to strike.

Slowly the tension drained out of the air as the Eldest brought herself back under control, finally to sit there staring at me with eyes seething like molten jade. At long last, she spoke. "Hasai, my Name is--"

--And she began to pour forth a long string of syllables; some flowing like water, some rolling like thunder. Most were unpronounceable by any human. Dragons, it seems, add to their Names as the years pass; the longest and most complex belonging to the eldest and most powerful.

This was fortunate; because it gave me time to realize what she was doing and slam my hands down over my ears. "Stop! STOP!!"

I saw her pause, and slowly, cautiously, I removed my hands. "My Lady, would you truly. . . ." I swallowed, shame filling my heart. "How could I possibly mean so much to you?"

She calmly returned my gaze. "You are our life, Hasai. Nothing else matters. Nothing."

The subject settled, she then changed the subject with an abruptness that left me dizzy, her demeanor warming as she did so. "I have someone that I'd like you to meet."

Now, how many bachelors have heard that line? I gaped at her for a moment, then smiled wryly. "My Lady, don't you think that this is an odd time to be playing matchmaker?"

She smiled back, with only the faintest trace of steel. "There is no 'odd' time for something this important. Stefan should have returned with her by now; will you at least meet her?"

I chuckled ruefully, then stood. "Why not?" I went to the door and opened it. Stefan was indeed waiting outside. With a silent smile to me he entered the room, with a white-faced Pasqual in tow.

I stared at her, things clicking into place at last. A swallow indeed; but not for some cartel or foreign government. A wave of anger washed through me as I realized why I'd felt so strongly attracted to her. Her eyes wide, Pasqual took an involuntary step back as that anger escaped into a single syllable.

"You."

Dithra looked at me, then at Pasqual, her confusion obvious. Stefan stood in the background, for a moment looking equally puzzled. Then his eyes grew cold. "You know each other?"

"Yes. Oh, yes." I replied, my lips skinning back in a humorless grin as I continued to stare. "How long now, Pasqual? Two, three months?" I chuckled grimly, then felt my lips turn downwards. "This happens every time. Every damn time, just when I think I've finally managed to figure my life out, I end up being played the sucker."

I had to step away from her at that point. My fist came up, and it was all I could do to keep from smashing it into the wall. Finally I regained enough control to turn back to Pasqual. "Who? Who put you up to this?"

Pasqual hesitated, then her eyes flicked over to Dithra, only to find her as forbidding as myself. "In this matter his voice is mine, child."

The young dragoness seemed to wilt, then slowly turned back to me. "It was Ahnkar who commanded me, my lord."

I looked at Dithra, who was nodding slowly. "Yes. As I should have suspected. You know him, Hasai; he was the one who was so short with you when you were with us last." She turned to Pasqual. "Why, child?"

Pasqual looked confused. "My Lady, I do not understand. Was Ahnkar not acting as your voice in this?"

I felt my blood chill as my eyes snapped back to Dithra. But no; she'd offered me her Name. I watched as her expression once again grew cold. "He was not. Answer the question, young one."

Pasqual seemed shocked by Dithra's denial. She glanced at me from the corner of her eye, then dropped her gaze. "My Lady, I was to have his children."

I felt my stomach drop into my socks as Dithra drew breath with a long low hiss, her eyes glittering. "And did you succeed?"

"Yes, my Lady."

". . . .How many?"

"Two, my Lady." Pasqual glanced at me again. "Two, so far. Maybe more; it is too soon to tell."

Dithra closed her eyes and tilted her face skyward in what could only be exultation. As for myself, I felt my legs buckle beneath me and I sat down heavily on the bed. I must not have looked too well, because Stefan took a half-step forward, wearing a concerned expression.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Pasqual shifted uncomfortably. "My lord, Ahnkar had me swear not to. He said--" She cut off and looked away, biting her lower lip.

"Go on."

"My lord, he told me . . . that you had murdered your mate and child."

What he saw in my face made Stefan lunge forward to prop me up. The world had grown strangely distant, and there was a hollow roaring in my ears. "He knows." I muttered. "How could he know? How-- Oh. Oh, you bastard. Oh, you God-Damned bastard. . . ."

Dithra stared at me, her features whitening as she studied my face. "Hasai, explain." Her voice, laced with steel, brooked no argument.

So I told them.

I told them of my first encounter with the exotic, green-feathered quetzalcouatl deep in the jungles of Panama. Of how I took pity upon her and her three unhatched children. How I cared for her, and eventually came to love her. I told them of the child she gave me. Then I told them of coming back late one night to find them all dead. Of how I hunted down their killer, and slew him with my hands. Of how I buried her and our children, along with all my hopes and dreams.

There was dead silence when I finished. I looked up to find Pasqual's eyes wet with unshed tears. Dithra looked ineffably sad as she watched me. Stefan simply looked grim. My eyes met his, and I slowly nodded. "Indeed. What would lure a mother away from her nest long enough for a mad wyrm to do murder? Stefan, that first night in the field I looked right at you, yet didn't see you."

Stefan nodded, already knowing where we were headed. "Yes, my lord. It was an illusion of empty air."

"Can that illusion portray other things? Like a dragon calling to his mate?"

"Yes, my lord; quite easily. It is a simple trick, however, and only good against those unaware of its existence." His eyes dropped momentarily. "Against a feral, it would be quite effective."

"But why?"

I turned to Pasqual. "To get the egg. The unhatched child of the last of the Shen-Lung, to raise as their own and mold as they wished. God, what a prize that must have seemed." I closed my eyes. "But then it spun out of control. They hadn't counted on that mad old wyrm lurking in the shadows, my love's former mate, slipping in and destroying everything. My mate's children were newly hatched; maybe they made some noise as they died. Whatever the reason, my mate came charging back, trapping him in the den, forcing him to kill her as well."

My fingers had tangled themselves in my hair, my elbows propped on my knees, my voice a whisper. "Bastards. Those damned bastards. Who gave them the right to play games with my life? To use me and mine as pawns? Damn them. Damn them all to HELL!"

That last came out as a roar. I looked up, and Pasqual flinched at what she saw in my face.

With a very low growl that my human throat should of been impossible of producing and making the others flinch as well, I uttered.

"Where are my children?"