the aura of light that was the underrealm connection between them. Rent was a tall and iron-featured man. His expression was flinty and arrogant; he walked with a casual bluster and wore a smile that, far from being disarming, made Hodakai tighten his guard.
It is always so good to see you, Hodakai! To what do I owe the rare privilege?
Hodakai hesitated. Now that he was here, he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. I've been thinking, he said finally.
Rent cocked his head. Dangerous habit. Are you calling to ask my permission?
Hodakai twitched with anger. All right, so it was Rent who had taught him all that he knew of underrealm magic—and for that matter, most of what he knew about the realm, period, from the fate of his shipmate to the concealment of the dragons' Dream Mountain. But Rent had also withheld much, and it was clear that he would continue to do so until Hodakai accepted servanthood to him, and to the one whom Rent served.
Hodakai decided to ignore Rent's jibe. I've been thinking about those flying serpents you call friends, he said finally.
Oh? And what have you been thinking about them? I presume it is true dragons you are speaking of, yes? There was a pinch in the center of Rent's forehead, and it deepened as he spoke.
Well . . . What Rent called "true" dragons were those loyal to Rent's Master—the one called Tar-skel, the "Nail of Strength." Hodakai, frankly, didn't know if there was much difference between the Tar-skel dragons and any others, except for their allegiance in the war. But he knew this: it had been Tar-skel dragons who had captured him.
Hodakai, Hodakai! Rent chided, apparently reading his mind. Can you not be the master of your own outrage? How can you be counted in the coming victory if you cling to your petty grudges? Accept what has happened and move on!
Hodakai didn't answer. This was Rent's way of asking what he never tired of asking, which was: when would Hodakai give up and declare his allegiance to Tar-skel, and of course, to Rent? Not that Tar-skel himself gave a flying finger at the moon, Hodakai was sure. Probably the Nail had never even heard of him.
But Hodakai's hatred of the Nail's dragons ran deep in his soul. He couldn't understand why Rent didn't hate them equally. Rent too was a rigger who had fallen prey to dragons in the Flux. But unlike Hodakai, Rent had parlayed his captivity into power and influence, into both servanthood and mastery. The trouble was, whether Hodakai liked him or not, Rent was the only human he was likely ever to see again in his life.
Are you planning to tell me what you've been thinking? Rent asked sharply. Or did you call just to announce to me that you had been thinking? Some of us do that every day, you know.
Hodakai seethed at the sarcasm, but tried not to show it. I called, actually, to tell you of an interesting visitor I've just sent away.
Rent's expression narrowed. Visitor? Why didn't you tell me that in the first place?
I was trying to. Anyway, it was a dragon.
One of your captors, coming to see if you had decided—
No—not one of those. One of the others. One not . . . aligned with you.
Rent's eyes shone with a fervor that made Hodakai nervous. Do tell! And to what did you owe this visit from the enemy?
How would I know? I'd never seen him or heard of him before. And I sent him packing, if that's what you're driving at.
I should hope so. But did you get any information out of him first? Every encounter with the enemy should be used to good purpose.
Your enemy, you mean—not mine. Or no more than any other dragon.
Hodakai, Hodakai—
And I wish you'd stop doing that.
Doing what?
I think you know. It was just one more way Rent had of pressuring him, by presuming that he and Hodakai had the same notion as to what constituted "the enemy." Hodakai wished now that he hadn't told Rent about the dragon.
No , Hodakai. What is it you want from me?
I want you to stop pushing me. I don't like it when you push me. I
It is always so good to see you, Hodakai! To what do I owe the rare privilege?
Hodakai hesitated. Now that he was here, he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. I've been thinking, he said finally.
Rent cocked his head. Dangerous habit. Are you calling to ask my permission?
Hodakai twitched with anger. All right, so it was Rent who had taught him all that he knew of underrealm magic—and for that matter, most of what he knew about the realm, period, from the fate of his shipmate to the concealment of the dragons' Dream Mountain. But Rent had also withheld much, and it was clear that he would continue to do so until Hodakai accepted servanthood to him, and to the one whom Rent served.
Hodakai decided to ignore Rent's jibe. I've been thinking about those flying serpents you call friends, he said finally.
Oh? And what have you been thinking about them? I presume it is true dragons you are speaking of, yes? There was a pinch in the center of Rent's forehead, and it deepened as he spoke.
Well . . . What Rent called "true" dragons were those loyal to Rent's Master—the one called Tar-skel, the "Nail of Strength." Hodakai, frankly, didn't know if there was much difference between the Tar-skel dragons and any others, except for their allegiance in the war. But he knew this: it had been Tar-skel dragons who had captured him.
Hodakai, Hodakai! Rent chided, apparently reading his mind. Can you not be the master of your own outrage? How can you be counted in the coming victory if you cling to your petty grudges? Accept what has happened and move on!
Hodakai didn't answer. This was Rent's way of asking what he never tired of asking, which was: when would Hodakai give up and declare his allegiance to Tar-skel, and of course, to Rent? Not that Tar-skel himself gave a flying finger at the moon, Hodakai was sure. Probably the Nail had never even heard of him.
But Hodakai's hatred of the Nail's dragons ran deep in his soul. He couldn't understand why Rent didn't hate them equally. Rent too was a rigger who had fallen prey to dragons in the Flux. But unlike Hodakai, Rent had parlayed his captivity into power and influence, into both servanthood and mastery. The trouble was, whether Hodakai liked him or not, Rent was the only human he was likely ever to see again in his life.
Are you planning to tell me what you've been thinking? Rent asked sharply. Or did you call just to announce to me that you had been thinking? Some of us do that every day, you know.
Hodakai seethed at the sarcasm, but tried not to show it. I called, actually, to tell you of an interesting visitor I've just sent away.
Rent's expression narrowed. Visitor? Why didn't you tell me that in the first place?
I was trying to. Anyway, it was a dragon.
One of your captors, coming to see if you had decided—
No—not one of those. One of the others. One not . . . aligned with you.
Rent's eyes shone with a fervor that made Hodakai nervous. Do tell! And to what did you owe this visit from the enemy?
How would I know? I'd never seen him or heard of him before. And I sent him packing, if that's what you're driving at.
I should hope so. But did you get any information out of him first? Every encounter with the enemy should be used to good purpose.
Your enemy, you mean—not mine. Or no more than any other dragon.
Hodakai, Hodakai—
And I wish you'd stop doing that.
Doing what?
I think you know. It was just one more way Rent had of pressuring him, by presuming that he and Hodakai had the same notion as to what constituted "the enemy." Hodakai wished now that he hadn't told Rent about the dragon.
No , Hodakai. What is it you want from me?
I want you to stop pushing me. I don't like it when you push me. I
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