“I don’t know if they sound more like fire-lizards or dolphins when they ‘talk’ like that,” F’lessan said, cocking one arm under his head and reaching for her hand with the other.

“They’re related, after all,” she said, somewhat drowsily, quite content to lie there, next to him, letting his fingers twine in hers.

She heard him sigh.

“There are so many things to talk about,” he murmured, “but I think they can wait until tomorrow, don’t you?”

He turned his head toward her, though she couldn’t see but a blur of his face and the whiteness of his teeth in one of his so charming smiles.

“It is tomorrow, you know.”

“Well, a little further into the morning, then.”

He lifted his head just enough to kiss her lightly.

Why was it that the tenderest of his kisses affected her more than the passionate ones—which she enjoyed, too? It was his tenderness toward her that undid her most.

She woke, sitting bolt upright, a second before everything happened, before Golanth roared, before Zaranth reacted to what she was staring at so intensely in the underbrush. That moment was graven on the back of her eyes as surely as the Fireball’s explosion: she and F’lessan on the uppermost terrace, Zaranth just below them, her body taut for something Tai could not see and Golanth, head toward the river, sprawled lengthwise on the lowest level, his tail half propped against a thick bush.

Whether it was his tail which had enticed them or not would always be moot. Many felines were hunting that dawn. The sun had risen and sun-warm dragon hide exuded a scent all its own. Dragons generally sought heights for sunbathing. This morning, with all four deeply asleep, the dragons were accessible.

The felines had arrived stealthily. Perhaps thirst had initially drawn them to the river, only to find the sleeping dragons. Perhaps Golanth’s tail had twitched in his sleep, attracting attention. Whatever Zaranth was staring at suddenly was flung backward at incredible speed and that was the signal for an orange-striped feline to clamp its teeth on Golanth’s tail. At his roar the rest of the considerable hunting party attacked. Spotted, striped, and tawny hides, assaulting him from three directions, abruptly covered the bronze.

He reared to his full height, front legs clawing the air to remove the one that had sunk teeth in his left eye ridge. He tried to whip free of the one on his tail and kick off the third which had bitten into the fold of his flesh between rib cage and hip, to buck against the others racing in from the thick shrubs that bordered the river. Feline jaws clamped harder, determined to retain their hold.

Then others used Golanth’s body as stairs to attack Zaranth, talons outstretched, heads angled to sink fangs in whatever flesh they could reach.