to your lands when the sun wakes."
Kyrie opened his mouth, then closed it again, dumbfounded. Agnus Dei's eyes flared, and smoke rose from her nostrils.
"No!" Agnus Dei said to Nehushtan. "We do not come to rest. We need help! Our people are hunted. We're nearly extinct. The griffins have killed all but four of us. They captured my mother. Please help us." Tears filled her eyes.
The salvana guards growled. Nehushtan only nodded slowly. He blinked, his great eyelashes like fans. He puffed out several rings of smoke. Finally he spoke again, turning his eyes from Agnus Dei, to Kyrie, and back again.
"We of Har Zahav convey our grief. We weep to hear your tragedy, and we pray that the spirits of your dead find peace in the afterlife. You may stay three darknesses and recover your strength. Then you may fly to your home, and we will pray that the Draco constellation glows upon you there, and protects you in the afterlife should you perish."
Kyrie shook his head and grunted. Were these salvanae daft? He blurted out his words, anger boiling his blood. "Is that all you can offer us? Three nights' stay? Then you'll send us back to die? Won't you help us? Don't you care that griffins are slaughtering fellow dragons?"
Nehushtan puffed out more smoke, seeming lost in thought. The smoke formed tiny, dancing salvanae.
"You are not fellow dragons," he finally said, "though you speak our tongue. You are the Vir Requis, creatures of old stories in our land. Yet our light shines with you, for many years ago we were allies, and fought together against the griffins, when the griffins were still wild, and no amulet could tame them. This was many seasons ago. Today we dragons of Salvandos no longer fight the wars of Requiem. Like the snow upon the mountains, we live through sunshine and rain, and thrive both in light and shadows. Ours is a peaceful life, a life of prayer and meditation, of stargazing. We cannot fight the wars of griffins and Vir Requis. You may stay here for seven darknesses, but then you must leave, and I can offer no more."
Agnus Dei roared so loudly, the salvana soldiers growled and blew smoke, and their eyes flared. "If you don't help us, we'll die," Agnus Dei cried. "Our race will vanish."
Nehushtan blinked and nodded. He puffed more smoke, which now looked like a Vir Requis dragon, wings spread, mouth blowing fire. "As fire may rise in smoke, so may the life of a dragon rise as a spirit; it does not vanish, but joins the winds and the rain that falls. Fear not, Vir Requis, for your spirit is strong. When its time to rise comes, it will find its way to the temples of your forefathers." He turned around. "Follow me, and I will lead you to rest, food, and meditation."
Agnus Dei panted with anger, eyes flaring, flames dancing between her teeth. The salvana soldiers eyed her, fangs bared. Kyrie trembled with rage, but forced himself to take deep breaths. He wasn't ready to give up yet. So long as they remained here at Har Zahav, there was hope.
"Come, Agnus Dei," he said to her. "Let's go with them. We might convince them yet."
The salvanae began flying toward the golden mountain. Kyrie and Agnus Dei followed. Watching how the salvanae coiled through the air with no wings, Kyrie felt clumsy as he flew. He marveled at how long, thin, and glittering these air serpents were, with their glowing horns, fluttering mustaches, and eyes like orbs of colored glass.
As they flew closer to the mountain, Kyrie saw many other salvanae flying around him. They flew in every color, from the deepest black flecked in silver, to bright reds and greens. Some tossed bolts of lighting from their maws. The light blinded Kyrie.
Nehushtan led them higher, moving toward the crest of Har Zahav. Flying so high, the mountains surrounding Har Zahav seemed small as hills, their pines mere specks. When they flew above Har Zahav's crest, Kyrie gasped. The golden mountain ended not with a peak, but with a gaping hole.
"It's a volcano," he whispered.
He saw darkness and stars inside the volcano, as if gazing into night sky. The salvanae coiled down toward the volcano's mouth, straightened their bodies, and entered the hole. They disappeared into the darkness.
Kyrie and Agnus Dei hovered over the volcano's mouth. The opening was five feet wide, suited for the slim body of a salvana. How would Vir Requis—with