Then Eetha and Ore stepped through the blowing grass, doing what must be done, and so quickly, I could not stop them. With swift and single motion, Eetha tore off my golden gloves.
I screamed, stepping back, but as I tried to hide my cursed part, Eetha gripped my wrist.
“For your service to us, Briar,” she said in DragonTongue. Then she licked my talon.
With my hand exposed the dragons all stepped closer. Ore lifted my hand, “For Kit,” she said, her blue eyes shining, then she, too, kissed my claw.
Kye, seeing what the dragons offered by the kiss, turned, broke his sword upon the stones, and laid it at the dragons’ feet.
It took a mind simpler than mine to understand what Kye had done.
Cook pointed to the sword and shouted, “It’s come to pass just as the old rhyme said! Look ye! The dragon has given our queen a talon, and the king has broken his sword!”
Then, with my heart pounding in my breast, I held up my talon for all to see.
“A peace gift from the dragons,” called Father Hugh.
“Ah, see how it clings to her hand!” called Marn’s son, Gerbert. “As if she were born so!”
I dropped my other glove and held my hands high, feeling the wind rush through my fingers.
Ah, the freedom of this nakedness. That which I’d hidden so long from all, transformed by a kiss and held in reverence. Merlin had said the twenty-first queen would “end war with the wave of her hand.” But I’d not known till now the mage spoke of the war between humans and dragons.
The talon had, all in a moment, become a sign of peace between us.
Stars came out, showing the deep of Heaven, as the dragons all went down on their knees and bowed to me, their scales shimmering in the moonlight like windblown water. And a sigh of pleasure rose from the crowd on Twister’s Hill.
And there, with the dragon’s bowing, the bonfires crackling, and the sea churning far below, the people chanted:
Bright fire.
Dragons fire.
Broken sword.
One black talon ends the war!
I raised my kissed claw higher.
My curse—a blessing.
From that sweet night and on.
Acknowledgments
My warmest thanks to Kathy Dawson, whose inspired quill graced many a dragon scale. And to the members of Artemis: Katherine Grace Bond, Heidi Pettit, Margaret D. Smith, Jill Trepp Sahlstrom, and Dawn Knight, for their unabridged imaginations. Thanks also to my encouraging husband, who says I should say he’s nothing like the dragon.
About the Author
JANET LEE CAREY grew up surrounded by redwoods in northern California. The sea was only a short ride away down a winding road. It was in this magical place that she first dreamed of writing children’s books. She is the author of several novels for young readers, including Wenny Has Wings, which received the Mark Twain Award, and The Beast of Noor, which was a Book Sense Pick. She lives with her husband and their three sons near Seattle, Washington. www.janetleecarey.com
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