and killing the Lady Mirum. She gasped when Mother spoke of Kyrie and Benedictus fighting off griffins in Hostias Forest. She shook her head in wonder as Mother talked of their flight from the woods, their plunge underwater, their journey here to Sequestra Mountains. When Mother finally fell silent, Agnus Dei rose to her feet, head brushing the cave's ceiling, and nodded.
"Well," she said, "there's only one thing to do now."
They all looked at her: Father with his dark eyes; Mother, her eyes sad; Kyrie, eyes gleaming and curious and fiery. Agnus Dei looked back at each one, took a deep breath, and struggled for the courage to speak what she thought. Yes, she told herself. It was the only way. The only hope they had, if they were to fight back, if they were to fly again. She was surprised to find tears in her eyes. I will not hide again, I will not spend my life in caves. We are Vir Requis. Once more, our wings will find the sky.
She spread out her wings and snarled. "We will find the true dragons. We will have them join us."
Agnus Dei watched their reactions. Benedictus lowered his head and let out a long, tired breath. Mother sighed and shook her head softly. Kyrie, however, widened his eyes and nodded, teeth bared. "Yes," he whispered, voice eager like fire seeking kindling.
"No." Father spoke for the first time, voice deep and gruff. "And that's that."
Agnus Dei spun toward him, glaring. "Why not?" she demanded, flames tickling her teeth.
"Because I said so," Father said, baring his fangs, fangs twice the size of Agnus Dei's. "We will not seek any of these salvanae, these 'true dragons'. As far as anyone knows, no such creatures even exist."
Agnus Dei could not believe it. The fire burned inside her belly, and she blew it at the ceiling, lighting the cave in red and yellow. Her roar echoed. "How can you say that?" she demanded. "Father! They are real. I know it."
Agnus Dei expected Mother to rage, but the silvery dragon only looked at her with sad eyes and touched her shoulder. "My daughter. Sweetheart. Those are only stories. Stories I told you when you were a child. There are no salvanae in real life. They are only legends humans told, mistaking us Vir Requis for creatures with no human form."
Agnus Dei did not know if to feel more foolish or more angry. She glared, fangs bared, all eyes on her. Could Mother be right? Had she simply believed fairytales from her childhood? No, impossible! Salvanae did exist, flying serpents with no human forms, creatures who could join them, fly with them, breathe fire across the skies. The legends were true. The salvanae simply lived far away, far over mountains and lakes and forests, hiding in the fabled land of Salvandos, a land where no griffin dared fly.
Agnus Dei turned to Kyrie. She grabbed his shoulders. "You believe, don't you?" she said. "I can see you do! Don't deny it. You too know the stories are real. Imagine, pup!" She shook him. "Imagine... a mountain covered with dragons, real dragons, not Vir Requis. Wild, untamed beasts who have no human forms, who live for fire and wings and battle." Agnus Dei growled. "We can find them. You and I. We can have them join us, fight with us against Dies Irae."
Kyrie's eyes shone. He believed her; Agnus Dei could see it. He turned toward Benedictus, as if seeking permission from the old king. Agnus Dei grabbed Kyrie's face and pulled it back toward her.
"Don't look at him!" she said. "He is old and tired. He does not believe. Look at me. I'm young and hungry like you, and I want to fight. I want to fly. I want to fly with the true dragons like in the legends. Come with me to find them, pup. Kyrie, I mean. Come with me. I remember the stories of Salvandos, of this distant land of golden trees and misty mountains. A land so far, not even griffins fly there. But I can fly there."
Father stepped toward Agnus Dei, kneeling under the cave ceiling. He glared at her, and she stared back, refusing to look away though his gaze burned.
"Daughter, if you remember the stories, you will remember this too," Father said, voice grave, that cold voice of the Black Fang, King of Requiem. "You will remember that the salvanae were treacherous, untameable. Beastly. In the stories, they hate Vir Requis. They