“Chuan Ren is not pertinent to this discussion,” Bao said dismissively, turning away from Fiat and moving out of my range of vision. “I rule the red dragons now, and they will follow my commands. If you wish for our aid in restoring your sept to you, then you will release the Marcella Phylactery and cease wasting my time.”

“And place myself in a weaker position than I currently occupy?” Fiat shook his head. “I see little sense in that.”

“You see little because you are shortsighted and ignorant,” Bao snapped at him.

Fiat jerked as if he was holding himself back from striking her, forcibly relaxing his hands as he tried for a lazy smile. He raised an eyebrow at the mysterious man who still leaned casually against the wall, calmly observing the scene. “And what of you, my old friend? What do you say to this change in plans the red wyvern demands of us?”

“I have never sought the dragon heart, not even when it was within my grasp,” the man answered slowly, his voice deep and slightly roughened, as if he wasn’t used to speaking. “So long as my own plans are not affected, then I have no opinion on the subject.”

Annoyance flashed in Fiat’s eyes. “Such an attitude is admirable, but lacking in foresight. Your plans may well be affected should the red wyvern achieve her goal and reassemble the heart.”

The dark-haired man shrugged. “It remains to be seen whether or not the heart wishes to be used.”

“Bah,” Fiat snorted. “The heart is there to be used. It has no will of its own. You have lived too long in the past, my friend. Times have changed, and with them, so have the dragonkin. We no longer cling to superstitious beliefs.”

“Yes,” the man agreed in a mild voice, but there was an undertone that sent a little skitter of fear down my back. “Time has changed.”

“But you remain steadfast, eh?” Fiat asked, his voice and posture aggressive. “That will not do. You must make a stand, right here and now. Will you support the red wyvern’s plan or our original one?”

“It matters not to me,” he answered, waving a languid hand at Fiat as he straightened up. “Give her the shard, or do not. But think twice about summoning me again without due cause. I may be antiquated in your eyes, but I do not suffer fools gladly.”

At that moment the same copper-haired woman who had been in the square appeared at the far doorway. She glanced around the room quickly, causing Maata, Cyrene, and me to freeze, but apparently she did not notice our door was ever so slightly ajar. Her gaze settled on the mysterious man, and it was to him that she spoke.

“I have made the arrangements. We should leave soon, though.”