‘An intelligent question and one that might interest you as a student of dimensional theory,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘Every dimension, and every living thing of that dimension, has a signature that marks them. We can divine the signature by melding minds with you.’
Septern nodded for Sha-Kaan to continue. ‘Once the signature is learned by the Brood, the psyche of the Kaan can shield the location of your dimension from enemy Broods. When we are stronger with the flow of energy from your dimension, we can stop other Broods receiving visions from Balaia.’
‘You tap the energy of my dimension?’ Sha-Kaan could see that Septern, despite his suspicion and position, was becoming interested.
‘Yes,’ said the young dragon. ‘Interdimensional space is random energy and it has no direction. We feel it, all dragons do, but the chaos can only sustain our minds. A living dimension is the coalescing of energy into coherent form. To find a melde-dimension is the dream of every Brood, because it can be used to improve the minds of the host Brood, making them stronger, better breeders, more plentiful and longer lived.
‘Yours, with its magic, understanding of theory, however basic, and sheer life energy, is particularly prized.’
Septern thought for a long time, his brow creased, his hands wringing together. Sha-Kaan found the sight captivating. The Vestare, though valuable, did not have the mental capacity of the human and he found this mage fascinating, touching the periphery of his active mind and finding a pulsing power there.
Septern looked up at Sha-Kaan. ‘This signature. Once you have that, is the melde complete?’
‘It is the principal step but it does not make the melde functional,’ replied Sha-Kaan. ‘Put most simply, the signature gives us the light by which to navigate to and from this dimension, assuming the alignment remains constant. Your dimension calls you too but your mind cannot hear its song.’
Septern nodded. ‘That makes sense,’ he said. ‘But I have other ways of divining the location of dimensions or why am I here?’
‘Indeed,’ said Ara-Kaan, bringing his head in close once again. ‘We will be very interested to find out your methods.’
Septern smiled. ‘Another time. So tell me, how do I help you form the melde?’
Sha-Kaan breathed out through his nostrils, the twin streams of air playing over Septern’s face. ‘There is nothing simpler,’ he said. ‘Know that I am about to enter your deepest mind and don’t fight me. That way leads to pain and your mind is too valuable to damage.’
‘I’ll do my best.’ Septern sat on a grass-covered stone. ‘Wait one moment.’ He closed his eyes. ‘My mind is open. Just like before spell preparation. It’s as good as you’re going to get.’
‘Excellent,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘I won’t harm you so long as you don’t resist.’
‘Whenever you’re ready.’
Mirth again. ‘It is done,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘Your mind is remarkable. There is a great deal we can learn from each other.’
‘Now what?’ asked Septern, a doubtful look on his face.
‘Now we can travel to your dimension. Now we can do with you exactly as we choose.’ Ara-Kaan’s tone was edged with cold and Sha-Kaan knew a moment of fear before realising it was the Ancient’s way of playing a joke. Septern’s face had gone sheet-white but the Great Kaan brought his colour back. ‘Fortunately for you, Sha-Kaan told you the whole truth. What we need from you is more people with minds open like yours. Sha-Kaan will show you another way home and instruct you in exactly what we require.’
And the meeting was over then and there. The Ancients moved away without another word and Sha-Kaan was left with Septern, the first Dragonene of Balaia.
‘Come,’ he said. ‘Let me show you how our dimensions will melde.’
Sha-Kaan’s attendant ran into the dome of Wingspread, disturbing his memory.
‘My Great Kaan, I am ever your servant.’
Sha-Kaan raised his head a little from the damp ground. The Vestare in front of him was tall for his kind, perhaps five Balaian feet and, though now in late middle age, still retained the sturdy, muscular frame that typified his race. His hair, the colour of dried Flamegrass, pale and flecked yellow, was cropped above his large and receptive ears, reaching to the nape of his neck and close to his eyebrows. His eyes, the dominant feature, large, round and deepest blue, took in the reduced light of the dome with no lessening of clarity. The braided beard, a mark of his rank as Attendant to the Great Kaan, hung down to his chest.
Connecting minds, there was no need to speak.
‘Your summons had an edge of urgency, Sha-Kaan.’
‘Humans will be coming here, Jatha, through the Septern gateway. They must not be lost to us. Their signature is our melde; we need their aid.’
Jatha swallowed hard, the sweat on his forehead not purely due to the heat in the dome.
‘When will they come?’
‘Soon. I cannot be more specific. Theirs is a difficult path to the far side of the gateway. But you must organise Vestare to meet them now. There can be no risk of them reaching the gate before you. Travel there yourself and take enough with you to defend yourselves on the ground. There will be no cover from the Brood. It would draw too much attention. You must leave when the orb has risen three more times.’
‘Your wish, Great Kaan.’ Jatha bowed his head. ‘I would ask why they are coming?’
‘They are charged with repairing the damage they created in our sky and removing the risk to the Brood.’
‘A difficult task, Great Kaan,’ said Jatha.
‘Yes,’ said Sha-Kaan slowly. ‘Yes.’
‘You’re troubled. Can they succeed?’
Sha-Kaan stared at Jatha, his eyes blinking very slowly, his tongue flickering over his lids.
‘I don’t know,’ said the dragon. ‘They are humans. They are frail but believe themselves strong. But there is something they have. Resilience. And inventiveness. And they have a magic that can aid us.’ Sha-Kaan settled his head back on the ground, reaching for some Flamegrass. ‘I need to rest. Go now and organise yourself. I will eat as darkness falls.’
Sha-Kaan let his mind drift again. Septern’s reign as the first Dragonene had been short-lived. There had always been something dangerous and uncontrolled about the great human and ultimately it had meant that the Kaan never learned his dimensional location secrets.
A Vestare had taken Septern to the Melde Hall, a vast underground structure only half-lodged in the Kaan’s dimension. Sha-Kaan himself had shifted into the hall whose doors, like those of Wingspread, would not accept anything the size of a dragon.
‘Doors big enough to admit a dragon on foot are both unmanageable and unnecessary,’ Sha-Kaan had said in reply to Septern’s question. ‘I don’t believe I have to describe the effort not only to make them but to operate them.’
The Melde Hall had been built in hope and expectation of the discovery of a suitable melde-dimension. With the news that the event had finally occurred, celebrations had been delayed while the Hall had teemed with Vestare readying it for ceremony, their shouts echoing into its depths. Several hundred had poured in and even so they barely made an impact on the emptiness. They had polished mosaic and marble, swept dust from statues and stocked the Hall, which could comfortably accommodate two hundred dragons, with Flamegrass.
Sha-Kaan recalled that he had touched the mind of Septern then, feeling the reactions of the Balaian mage . . .
Septern remained suspicious, despite the apparent friendliness of Sha-Kaan in particular. His bravado masked a deep anxiety over what he had blundered into and the price Balaia would have to pay for his agreement with the Brood Kaan.
The hall he was standing in was the single biggest building he had ever seen, hundreds of feet long, its roof lost in the dark, the braziers lining the walls only emphasising its vastness. He could barely see the opposite arch from the one in which he stood and it was only as his eyes slowly adjusted to the gloom and distance that he realised that the series of eighteen arches, each wide enough to admit the largest dragon, led to yet more space on which he couldn’t focus.