‘‘Shouldn’t her son take over as wyvern?’’ I asked Gabriel in a whisper a few moments later, as Bao was meeting the other wyverns.

‘‘Not necessarily,’’ he said, a speculative gaze on Jian. His fingers tightened around mine. ‘‘Wyverns are picked by right of tanistry, not primogeniture, although the latter isn’t completely unknown. What I find interesting is that Chuan Ren has a child yet living. The others were killed in the Endless War.’’

Jian, a tall figure, his head meekly inclined, stood behind the tiny Bao. He was a handsome man, I mused to myself, with high cheekbones and a sculpted look to his face that hinted he might be a model if he had been born mortal. He looked to be in his thirties, but that meant nothing—most beings in the Otherworld could control their appearance, settling on an age at which they felt comfortable. ‘‘He doesn’t look overly sad about the loss of his mother. Were they not close?’’

Gabriel smiled for a moment. ‘‘I am not privy to the workings of the red dragons, but I sincerely doubt if anyone could be said to be close to Chuan Ren. Still, it is interesting, is it not?’’

‘‘Very.’’

‘‘The sárkány will start now,’’ Bao suddenly announced, plopping herself down in the chair at the head of the table.

Drake gave her a level look. ‘‘The weyr is not yet complete. We cannot start the sárkány until all wyverns are present.’’

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘‘You are here. The silver wyvern is here. So are the blue and black wyverns. How is it not complete?’’

‘‘How indeed,’’ Fiat said smoothly, taking the chair on the side of the table. ‘‘I have no doubt Drake is referring to that tiresome relative of mine who persists in delusions of controlling my sept. But as my dear uncle Bastian is not present to face the decision of the weyr, I believe we can proceed without him. And speaking of troublesome relatives . . .’’ He turned to Drake. ‘‘Where is your mate? Does she have so little respect for the laws governing the weyr that she refused to attend?’’

‘‘She is heavy with child,’’ Drake said, moving to stand behind the chair at the foot of the table. His two redheaded bodyguards accompanied him. ‘‘Although she wished to attend the sárkány, her condition is too delicate for her to travel. As you know, there is precedence for female mates to be excused from attendance at weyr functions in such a situation.’’

Fiat smiled at him. ‘‘Naturally, we would not wish Aisling to risk herself or your child. Please be sure to tell her I’m thinking of her.’’

If Drake interpreted that as a threat, he didn’t indicate it. Gabriel heaved a silent sigh, gave my fingers one last squeeze, and moved to the last remaining chair, but like Drake, he did not sit. ‘‘Since this sárkány has been called by Bastian to address the issues of your claim to the blue sept, I believe it will be in the best interests of all to wait for him to arrive, rather than begin without him.’’

‘‘He did not conduct a challenge in the proper manner,’’ Fiat said, an edge of anger to his voice despite his placid appearance. ‘‘It is not valid. I am wyvern of my sept, and you may trust me to deal with the situation he poses.’’

‘‘If I did not conduct it as weyr laws demand, it is because I had no need to,’’ a man called from the other end of the room. Everyone turned to look, many of the dragons who had not risen to greet Fiat now doing so as the man walked alone down the aisle. When he reached the end, two men joined him, clearly his personal guard.

I blinked a couple of times as the man strolled up to us, glancing between him and Fiat. I gathered this was the missing Bastian, uncle to Fiat. The two were almost identical, and for a few seconds I wondered if there was a doppelganger I’d never heard of. That thought was dismissed as I realized that what I was seeing was simply two men who bore a close resemblance to each other. Both had the same blond Adonis good looks, although Bastian’s hair was a few shades darker, the slightly curly locks brushing his shoulders. Where Fiat was dressed in an expensive-looking navy suit, Bastian wore a mandarin-collared sapphire shirt and black leather pants.

‘‘Lies!’’ Fiat snarled, leaping to his feet as he slammed his fist down on the table. ‘‘You would face the weyr with your lies, but I will not allow it! I demand the weyr name this dragon ouroboros and remove him from our presence.’’

‘‘You had me kept prisoner rather than face me in a true challenge,’’ Bastian said in a voice filled with scorn. ‘‘I do not have to challenge you, because you have not legally held the position of wyvern. I was named wyvern by Pierozzo Blu, not you. It was me the sept accepted, until you spread your poison and convinced those in power that I was mad. And rather than have them see the truth in a real challenge, you shut me away and claimed my position. But I will remain silent and hidden no longer, Fiat. I was named wyvern long centuries ago, and I have come to claim my heritage.’’

Drake gestured to one of his men. István took an empty chair that lined the wall and set it on Gabriel’s side of the table. ‘‘This weyr has been called to settle the question of who is wyvern. Until such time as a decision is made, you will both have a place at the table.’’

Fiat spat out something rude but sat back down, his eyes glittering dangerously at the other blue dragon. Bastian hesitated for a moment but nodded and took his seat. Gabriel cocked an eyebrow at Tipene, who fetched another chair, which he placed a few inches from Gabriel’s other side. He waited until I was seated before taking his own place, Tipene and Maata taking up positions immediately behind us.

‘‘We are now all present,’’ Gabriel said in his beautiful voice as he eyed the other wyverns. ‘‘As I have been asked to lead this sárkány, I believe we are ready to proceed.’’

‘‘Not yet,’’ Kostya said, snatching up a chair and setting it down next to Fiat with a good deal more force than was necessary. His men lined up behind him as he threw himself into the chair, spreading antagonistic looks among everyone. ‘‘Now all are present.’’

‘‘Hello!’’ Cyrene smacked him on the shoulder none too gently. ‘‘I’m standing!’’