She’d had a glimpse into his mind during the last session of Parliament, and she had been shocked and disturbed and intrigued, so much so that she conjured up the images again and again as she lay dreaming in her cave. Lysira was the first dragon to arrive in the immense cavern in which the Parliament of Dragons was held. Anora arrived shortly thereafter.

Embarrassed by her eagerness and abashed at being alone in the presence of this august and revered elder, Lysira kept her thoughts carefully neutral in tone. She paid her respects to the Minister, dipping her head and raising her wings, then wondered uneasily what she was supposed to do now. Was she expected to make conversation until the others arrived? Lysira could think of a great many things she wanted to discuss, but all of them involved Draconas, and she was shy about bringing him up.

Lysira made one or two half-hearted attempts to speak to the elder dragon. Lysira’s colors were all pastel and muted, however, and Anora, preoccupied by her own raging thoughts, never noticed the wisps of spring green and rose pink that trailed from Lysira’s mind.

Anora settled herself at the front of the cavern. She glanced only once in the direction of the young female, and that glance was filled with sorrow, as though she foresaw some terrible fate about to befall the young dragon. The strange look from Anora made Lysira even more uncomfortable, and she was thankful when the elder dragon wrapped her tail around her feet and shut her eyes, a sign that she was not to be disturbed. Lysira retreated into the darkest part of the cavern and tried to blend it with the stalagmites.

Finally the other dragons began arriving and Lysira was forced to leave her shadows and greet them. The dragons were ill at ease and nervous, their colors shifting and blurring. Of late, they had come to dread these meetings of Parliament, for the news they were given just got progressively worse. All of them looked to Anora as they spiraled down through the fathomless darkness on barely moving wings. The sight of her, clenched tightly around herself, did nothing to reassure them. Alarm flew between the assembled dragons with such rapidity that Lysira swore she could almost hear the thoughts whir through the darkness like bat wings.

Lysira dipped her head and raised her wings to each dragon in turn. She did not join in their mental conversations, however. Young dragons are, for the most part, to be seen and not heard, unless specifically invited to share their colors. Lysira might possibly have received an invitation from some of the young males; she had an impression of thoughts drifting her direction. She was distracted, however, listening for the arrival of one dragon; listening for the sound of human footfalls.