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.