Free Master of Dragons by Margaret Weis

Anora was saying. “She has been ruling the humans secretly in the
guise of a human, and she and her male consort, a lesser dragon known as Grald,
experimented with the breeding of humans, mingling their blood with the blood
of dragons. You all know that they produced humans who have dragon-magic in
their blood. You know, for Draconas informed you at the last meeting, that he
had discovered a city known as Dragonkeep, where Grald and Maristara were
holding these humans, a city kept hidden from both humans and dragons by
supreme illusions.
    “And you know,
for, again, Draconas told you, that Grald and Maristara have a spy in
Parliament who is feeding them information. Thus they were prepared to repulse
the dragons when they attacked Seth to try to free the humans. Thus Grald knew
our secret plans for the human female, Melisande. The information the spy gave
him provided Grald with the opportunity to breed with this human, a union that
produced a son.”
    The dragons did
not stir. Not a tail twitched. Not a wing rustled. The rocks in the cavern were
not so still as the assembled members of Parliament.
    “I am going to
reveal the identity of the betrayer,” Anora began.
    “Draconas!” The
name hissed in the minds of the assembled dragons.
    Anora shook her
head.
    “You,” said
Malfiesto, and he spoke aloud, something dragons rarely do.
    Lysira didn’t
believe him, any more than she had believed the others about Draconas. The idea
was ludicrous, and she almost laughed until she saw Anora’s eyes, saw the
shadow of conscious guilt, pierced by glinting defiance.
    “You are right,”
Anora replied. “I betrayed our plans to Maristara and Grald.
I—reluctantly—sanctioned the killing of Brayard and his son, Braun. You condemn
me now, I know that. But hear my reasons and then you will thank me.”
    “Never!” Lysira
let go her rage in an explosion of anger and grief. Braun had been her brother,
Brayard her father. “You admit to murder—”
    “Silence, young
one,” ordered Anora sternly. “Be silent and listen.”
    Lysira wasn’t
going to be silent. She was going to bellow her rage until the walls of the
cavern split asunder. She was going to fly at Anora and attack her with claw
and tooth and thunderous magic. She was . . .
    “Calm,” came
colors, blue and soothing as the cold waters of a plunge into a lake. “Keep
calm and do as the Minister says. Listen.”
    “Draconas!” Lysira
trembled inside, trembled with the force of her emotions, grief and fury vying
with pleasure and confusion at reading his thoughts. “But she killed Braun—”
    “Hush!” Draconas
warned. “Give no sign that I am with you. Let my mind merge with yours. Keep
your colors gray. I need to hear what Anora tells the Parliament, and she must
not know I am listening.”
    Lysira obeyed, her
mind in such turmoil that, while not exactly gray, her colors were so muddied
that even she could not tell quite what she was thinking.
    “I know this is a
shock for you, Lysira,” Anora was saying. “And I was truly, truly grieved that
I had to do what I did. Please, listen to what I have to say in my defense.”
    Lysira gave an
abrupt nod of her head. The other dragons would think she was barely able to
control herself for her fury, and that was almost true, for anger bubbled
inside her. But the ugly acid was mixed with a sweet warmth, knowing Draconas
was so close to her and that he trusted her and was depending on her. Lysira
dug her claws into the rock floor of the cave and waited to hear Anora.
    “For thousands upon
thousands of years,” the Minister began, “we have watched humans evolve, grow,
and develop. We have not interfered with their progress. Indeed, we passed
strict laws to prevent such interference. To help enforce those laws and to
keep a watchful eye upon this fragile species, we asked one of our own to
sacrifice himself, to take on human form and live and walk among them. We
watched over the humans, protected them, nurtured