Free Silver Dragon Codex by R.D. Henham Page A

form—I remembered something. I did attack this place. I know I did. But I didn’t steal the stone, and I didn’t kill anyone.” Her voice had the ring of certainty.
    “I’ve been thinking about that, you know,” Cerisse said.
    “What, while you were fighting the werewolf?” Jace said, grinning.
    “Yes, actually. Unlike boys, I can do two things at once.” The juggler pouted for a moment, shaking her head so that her auburn braid wagged past her waist. “I think I know why Belen attacked the village—sleight of hand.” The other three stared at her, confused, and Cerisse continued in a huff. “Oh, come on! It’s obvious. She didn’t steal the stone, did she? Well, if she didn’t, then someone else did. What’s the best way to move something big without anyone noticing? Distraction! It’s the oldest trick in a magician’s book.”
    “Dragons are very distracting,” Belen said seriously, drying the last of her tears.
    “They are! And best of all, you wouldn’t even have to hurt anyone. All you had to do was cause a ruckus—and then they’d take the stone. Of course, whoever it was didn’t expect everyone to turn into cursed werewolves.” Cerisse frowned. “Nobody I know could trick a dragon, though. It’s a lot harder than one of Ebano’s mind tricks, or Worver’s fluffy shell games. Maybe a wizard …”
    They all paused, considering the same thing without saying it.
    “It’s possible,” Jace said at last, trying not to shiver in the cold. He wiped the blade of his short sword clean and resheathed it. “But there wouldn’t be any proof here, would there? None that we could find, anyway.” The black scar in the ground where Chislev’s stone had stood was dark despite the touch of frost that layered the ground elsewhere.
    “Whoever did it,” Belen said, stressing her uncertainty, “would have had to convince me to attack. Threaten me,” she said, “or offer me something I couldn’t refuse.” She struggled to remember, releasing Cerisse’s hand to rub her temples. “I don’t know! It seems so foolish. Why would I endanger all these people? Why would I hurt so many innocents?”
    Ebano took her arm, gazing down at her. “So sad, dragon girl,” he clucked. “You are stream.”
    “I think the cold’s gotten to his head.” Jace shivered,wishing just a bit that the school was still on fire. At least that would have been warmer. “He’s not making any sense.”
    “Stream?” Cerisse shook her head, making strange, exaggerated gestures as she spoke. “We … don’t … understand … you, Ebano!”
    “He doesn’t know the language, Cerisse, he’s not deaf,” Belen snapped. She turned to Ebano and searched his eyes. “What do you mean, Ebano? Stream? What are you trying to say?”
    Ebano smiled and bent down, sketching a wavy line in the frosted earth. “Stream,” he said. “Belen stream.” He pointed at her, and then tapped the line. “Here.” He pointed at the top of the line, where he had begun the drawing. “Belen,” the mesmerist said again, reaching up to grasp her hand and pull her down. He placed her palm over the area, pressing it against the earth. “Belen here.”
    “What is he saying?” Belen stared, puzzled.
    It took three breaths for Jace to realize Ebano’s message. “The beginning! That’s what he’s saying. Streams don’t just come from nowhere, Belen, they have to start somewhere. Whoever talked you into doing this, whether it was blackmail or a threat, must have been able to find you before you came to the village. This had to start somewhere! Can you remember if you had a home somewhere? A cave … or … or …” He fumbled. The idea of Belenliving in a cave was preposterous, but he had no idea where dragons tended to live. “Maybe a tower?”
    “I … I remember a mountain surrounded by forest. The sun was setting behind it when I flew to the village.” Belen’s mouth dropped into a little O. “It must be to the west of here! Once