Merlin angled the sword’s glow toward Thigocia. “I am not familiar with this covenant veil that Clefspeare mentioned. May I ask its meaning?”
Thigocia extended her neck, bringing her head close to Merlin. Her eyes glimmered with several reddish hues, as though replaying past wonders. “It is the most holy ceremony in our culture. When two dragons come together in wedlock, they must affirm a covenantal vow. Although uncorrupted dragons cannot knowingly utter false words, it is possible that they might not know their own hearts. So, in order to guard against self-deception or ambiguous intent, the dragons must have at least two witnesses present. These witnesses collect in front of the dragons, divided into two groups that stand about two tail lengths apart. The witnesses speak our traditional vows in unison, and this creates a spiritual covenant that hangs like a veil between the groups. The dragons then pass through that veil. If either one of them does not have the vow firmly entrenched in his or her heart, he or she will not be able to pierce the veil. We call it the Great Key, for it unlocks the secrets of a dragon’s heart.”
Merlin stared at her, chills running across his skin. “Remarkable! That is a great key, indeed!”
“I only wish Roxil had not rejected our tradition,” Thigocia said, her fiery eyes fading. “Goliath would not have passed through, and her tragedy would have been avoided.”
“A tragic mistake, indeed,” Merlin said. After pausing in silence for a few seconds, he raised a finger. “Can this veil be created for vows other than a marriage covenant?”
“I have been told that it can, but I have not witnessed it. I assume any sacred confession can be made into a veil.”
“I see.” Merlin raised the sword upright and rested it on his shoulder. “Now that you have settled the matter of succession, I am ready to offer my advice.”
“Speak, then,” Thigocia said. “We are listening.”
Merlin paced in the midst of the circle of dragons. “King Arthur has summoned a council of war. With Goliath on the rampage, I fear that he will heed Devin’s call to kill every dragon who follows that renegade.”
“And what would be wrong with that?” Valcor asked. “With Goliath and his ilk out of the way, the people would no longer fear us.”
“Quiet, Valcor!” Hartanna scolded. “They are our brothers and sisters! Do you care nothing for their souls?”
Valcor swung his tail around and flicked her on the ear. “Are you still my twin sister, or are you already queen?”
Merlin chuckled. “Thigocia, have they always been like this?”
“Even in the womb,” Thigocia replied. “I do not wish twins on any dragon mother.”
“Yet, they illustrate our need for unity against our common foe.” Merlin interlaced his fingers over his chest. “After today, we can only be united in purpose, not in physical fellowship. I don’t trust Devin to keep his war against dragons within the confines of Goliath’s followers, so all of you should go into hiding. Gather gems and build the best regeneracy domes you can. Rest and gain strength until you hear from me again. Your danger sense will alert you if Devin’s war expands and approaches your cave.”
“And if the war comes?” Hartanna asked. “What then?”
“I am formulating an idea that will radically alter everything you have come to know, even those of you who have lived for thousands of years, but it will save your lives and your future. Because the plan is so drastic, I will not deploy it unless Devin’s bloodlust spreads. Even then, I will reveal the strategy only to the new king and queen, and they will prepare you for what will come to pass.”
“Master Merlin,” Thigocia said, her eyes shifting from one dragon to the next, “I want to reassure my descendants, for I sense their anxiety.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then reopened them, displaying new tears. Her voice trembled. “Each dragon here . . . has its ultimate origin . . . in my womb . . . and I care for them beyond measure. I have lived for thousands of years, and I have known humans from every generation in the history of the world. Merlin, with the possible exception of Enoch himself, there has been none with more integrity than you. I trust you without reservation, and I am convinced that you are the new oracle. The spirit of Enoch and his son Methuselah rests on