Anora walked around the cannons, not touching them, for she detested the feel of them. She knew how they worked. Prince Marcus had most kindly explained it all to her, and she’d seen them in action from a distance, hearing the appalling roar that shook the ground, and watching them belch fire and burp up stone balls. She thought back to a time when dragons had witnessed humans picking up sticks to use as weapons, and she knew from dragon lore how the dragons had laughed, amused by the sight. The dragons had laughed and had then gone back to their dreams.

“We should have known,” Anora said sadly to herself. “We should have seen then that these cunning little beasts would one day be capable of producing weapons that threaten our very existence. We should have done then what we do now. We should have shown them that we are the true rulers of this world, taught them to fear us and respect us. Still, better late than never, as the little beasts say.”

Soldiers walked past the dragon, so close she could have plucked their cloaks. They did not see her, though one stared straight at her. Anora kept still until they had gone. The illusion effectively concealed her from human eyes, but it could not dampen sound. While she waited for them to continue on their way, she decided she should contact Maristara.

Maristara was waiting for her, impatiently it seemed.

“Where have you been?”

“About our business,” Anora returned.

“You have not heard the news.”

“What news? Just tell me. Do not be so dramatic,” Anora said. Maristara could be such a dullard sometimes.

“Draconas summoned the Parliament.”

“Did he?” Anora found that interesting. “To try to convince the others to save the humans?”

“Of course.”

“With what result?”

“As you might expect. Parliament could not agree. Some went one way, some another. Draconas has a few of the noble houses on his side, but we have more on ours.”

“And how did it end?”

“The Parliament of Dragons is dissolved,” said Maristara with grim satisfaction. “Good riddance, if you ask me.”

Anora heard the news with shock and, oddly, regret. She thought fondly of the long debates, the interminable discussions, the Speaker’s Rod being handed civilly back and forth among them. She recalled the rustle of wings and the flicking of tails and the heads turning their bright eyes on first one, then the other, as the rainbow of their wisdom shone about them and bound them together. And now all that was dissolved, as grains of salt disappearing in a glass of water, so that you could never more see them or even tell what they had once been.