“Yes, but I didn't think he'd have to chip a whole glacier into shards to do it! I thought there would be some indication of where he was. There's nothing here, just ice and snow and rock. Where do we begin?”
Peottre lifted his shoulders in a heavy shrug. “Anywhere you like, I suppose.” One of the Hetgurd witnesses gave a bitter chuckle at his words. Chade glanced about almost wildly. His brief look acknowledged that I was finally present but he seemed to think I would not be of much use. He tried again with Peottre.
“The last time you were here and could see the dragon, where was he?”
Peottre shook his head slowly. “I've only been here twice before, with my aunt, when I was a boy. She brought me here to teach me the way. But we never saw the dragon, only the writing that marks his place. It has been at least a generation since the dragon was visible through the ice.”
This seemed to spark something in the Owl clanmember, for he suddenly stepped forward from the huddle of Hetgurd witnesses. He smiled slightly when he spoke, nodding to himself. “My grandmother saw him, when she was a girl. I shall tell you what she told me, and perhaps you will gain wisdom from it. She came here with her own mother's mother, to leave a gift for Icefyre and ask for greater fertility amongst our sheep. When they got here, her mother's mother showed her a dark shadow, just visible through the ice when the day's sun was strongest. ‘There he is,' she told my grandmother. ‘He used to be much easier to see, but every year the ice grows and he sinks farther away. Now he is only a shadow, and there will come a time when people will doubt he ever existed. So look well, and make sure that no descendant of ours shames us by doubting the wisdom of their own people.' ” The bard ceased his telling as abruptly as he had begun it. He stood, his cheeks reddened by the wind that blew his long hair, and nodded to himself, pleased.
“And would you know, then, where we would begin to look for the dragon?”
The Owl laughed. “I do not know. And I would not tell you if I did.”
“I am curious,” the Prince said more gently. “What was the offering made to the dragon, and how did he accept it?”
“Blood,” Owl replied promptly. “They cut a sheep's throat and let it bleed out on the ice. The mothers studied the shape of the puddle it made and where it sank in and where it pooled on the surface. They judged that they had pleased Icefyre with their gift. Then they left the sheep's carcass here for the Black Man, and went home. The next spring, many of our sheep dropped two lambs instead of just one, and none of them were touched by the flux. We had a good year.” Owl glanced sourly around at us. “That is the sort of luck we used to receive for honoring Icefyre. Dishonor and doubt him, and I dread to think of the misfortune that will befall your houses.”
“And our houses too, like as not, for being present,” Seal observed sullenly.
Peottre did not look at them as he reminded them, “Our mothershouse has accepted all that may come from this. It will not fall upon you.”
“So you say!” Owl snorted disdainfully. “Yet I doubt you speak for Icefyre, you who would destroy him for a woman's whim!”
“Where is the dragon?” Chade broke in, his exasperation complete. His answer came from an unexpected source.
“He's here,” Swift said quietly. “Oh, yes, he is. His presence ebbs and surges like a wild tide, but there's no denying he's here.” The boy swayed as he spoke and his voice was far away. Cockle set his hand to the young man's shoulder, and Web left me to hasten to Swift's side.
“Look at me!” he commanded the boy, and when Swift was slow to comply, he gave the lad a shake. “Look at me!” he urgently ordered him again. “Swift! You are young and never-bonded. You may not understand what I'm telling you, but keep yourself to yourself. Do not go to him, and do not let him come into you. This is a powerful presence that we feel, splendid and awe-inspiring. But do not become absorbed in that. I feel in this creature the charm of a great cat, the beckoning wile that can bond a youngster whether he would or no.”
“You can feel the dragon? He is definitely here, and alive?” Chade was incredulous.
“Oh, yes,” Dutiful replied unwillingly. For the first time, I realized how pale he was. The rest of us were ruddy-cheeked with the cold. Dutiful stood very still and slightly apart from us. He looked at the Narcheska as he spoke. “The dragon Icefyre is indeed here. And he is alive, though I do not understand how that can be so.” He paused as if thinking deeply, his eyes going afar. “I can just brush my mind against his. I reach for him, but he ignores me. Nor do I grasp how I can be aware of him one moment, and then feel him fade beyond my reach the next.”