Karaneshel opened his eyes, surprised to find himself alive and in a place completely unlike the forested slope for which he had been headed.

  The irregular stone walls and soaring sea-green crystals of a deep, bowl-shaped cavern surrounded him. The crystals emitted a pale illumination, highlighting the dozen or more hanging caverns that opened along the main cave’s sloping sides. Each cavern ended in a large stone shelf. Drakes occupied many of the shelves, all of them grown huge and dark-scaled with the passing of centuries.

  Slowly, recognition dawned. He was in Haven, the Drakon Council chamber.

  Leramishen, his sire, perched on one of the higher ledges. The massive drake’s stance projected scorn and profound displeasure. Even the trace of familiar scent that reached Karaneshel reeked of bitter disappointment.

  He let his mind wander back, seeking what had brought him here. He recalled armies, a battle, a witch’s spell, pain, the knowledge that he was dying. The pain remained, although not as intense, but the certainty of death was gone. Gingerly, he turned his head. Deep wounds scored his sides, and the trailing edge of his left wing hung in tatters.

  He awakens, a voice whispered in his head.

  A sigh of movement and tightly held thoughts drifted through Haven.

  “Karaneshel, this time you have gone too far.” Melorish’s voice pierced the quiet susurrus.

  Again he turned his mind to the past. For an instant, nothing new came, and then he saw the body of a bronze-scaled drake falling from his grasp. Vesheneris. His heart clenched. He looked up, his gaze seeking Melorish.

  She sat on the lowest shelf, her scales dark and dull with age but her eyes still bright.

  “Vesheneris does not concern us,” she said.

  Karaneshel’s eyes widened. Surely Vesheneris’s murder was why the Council summoned him.

  “Your battle with Vesheneris was fair,” Melorish said. “Your fighting prowess is admirable. You are clearly a dangerous adversary.”

  Karaneshel stared at the Speaker, astonished. “But…” His voice faltered as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

  Melorish arched her neck in amusement. “What? Drake does not kill drake. Is that what you ask?” She snorted derisively. “A quaint sentiment, oft quoted by your clan, but one that has no bearing on these proceedings.”

  High above, Leramishen shifted position but remained silent.

  “You have disobeyed this Council once too often,” Melorish said.

  Karaneshel started to protest, but Melorish silenced him with a hiss.

  “Vesheneris had permission to aid the Phantans,” she said. “You interfered. He—”

  Karaneshel interrupted her with a snarl. “You gave Vesheneris permission only because you knew the Phantans would lose without his help! And if they lost, the war would end and the principle form of entertainment in your pitiful lives would disappear. You are ancient, stagnant, no longer willing to live your own lives. You’d rather live vicariously by forcing other creatures to—”

  “Silence!” The crystals rang with the force of Melorish’s command, and Karaneshel feared she would leap from her perch and attack. He struggled to stand, but agony coursed through him, and he collapsed back to the floor.

  “Foolish youngling,” Melorish said. “Lie still and listen to your betters. You were warned about your behavior. Your protests have no place here.”

  Karaneshel glared but said nothing.

  “Your continuing interest in humans is senseless,” Melorish said. “We allowed you to spend time with them in your youth because we believed it would help you understand the profound differences between drakes and other creatures. You have long since outgrown such companions. To continue to seek the company of lower creatures and treat them as equals can only—”

  “Are they not equals in their own way?” Karaneshel dared to interrupt. “It’s true they’re not like us physically, but they have families, companions, feelings, needs, desires. They have strengths and weaknesses, as drakes do.”

  “Drakes have no weaknesses,” Melorish said.

  Karaneshel knew the best answer to that was no answer, at least in Melorish’s eyes.

  The Speaker went on, “Human families, companions, and feelings, of which you seem so fond, are one of their greatest weaknesses, a vulnerability easily exploited by others. They are frail, short-lived creatures with petty problems.”

  “Those ‘petty problems’ seem worthy of your attention,” Karaneshel said, “and worthy of your manipulation whenever—”

  “Silence!” Melorish spread her wings. “Interrupt me again and the wounds Vesheneris inflicted will seem but mild scratches.”

  Karaneshel clamped his mouth shut.

  “Drakes brought humans to this world,” Melorish said.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  Only so you could use them as entertainment. Karaneshel kept his bitter thought shielded.

  “They could be made to worship us,” she continued. “On other worlds, they do. We have chosen to let them live their lives here without the pretense of deified drakes. It is clear you cannot be swayed from your irrational interest in those lives and that you will continue to refuse to recognize the natural superiority of your own people. For that, you will be punished.” She met the eyes of each of the Council members.

  A heavy weight flowed down from the gathered drakes like an enormous, muffling blanket. It settled over Karaneshel, pinning him to the floor.

  “Sleep now,” Melorish said. “When you awaken, your wounds will be healed, you will be whole and unharmed, and your punishment will begin.”

  * * *

  Karaneshel awoke to blackness. He lay belly-down on what felt and smelled like a forest floor. His front legs were pressed against his sides, his back legs sprawled behind him. He could not feel his wings or tail.

  He tried to move, to curl into a more familiar position, but no part of his body responded. He reached out with his awareness to contact another drake, but the muffling blanket that descended on him in Haven continued to swaddle his mind. He attempted to call out but managed only a squeaking grunt deep in his throat.

  Around him, cool air rang with birdsong and the cries and rustlings of wildlife. A gentle breeze swirled around him, tinged with the distant scents of wood smoke, livestock, and other odors he associated with human habitation.

  He blinked hard and strained his eyes. Dim light shimmered in the darkness, then brightened slowly to pale evening. Pine trees loomed above him, interspersed with clumps of brush and slender saplings.

  He blinked again, bewildered. The trees and bushes looked huge, dozens of times larger than they should be.

  Where am I?

  He managed to bring one front leg forward and froze, staring in numb astonishment at the limb.

  Instead of his powerful, gold-scaled foreleg and sharp black claws, a human arm and hand stretched before him, covered with golden-brown skin and a smattering of fine dark hairs.

  He dragged his other front leg forward. Another human arm. Impossible. He rolled onto his side and stared at his body. Human, male, young adult, with no wings or tail or other sign of his drake form.

  He raised his strange, thin-skinned hand to his face and explored the flat human features, soft mouth, and blunt teeth.

  It’s a trick. The Council’s made me think I’m human.

  Again he reached for another drake mind, but the smothering blanket remained. He tried to speak, but he could not make his throat work properly.

  He rose to his hands and knees. Bright light flashed before him. Startled, he sat back on his heels, blinking in the sudden illumination.

  Before him stood a being of white light, a tall, slender faery-like creature with feathered wings, long, pale hair, and flowing robes.

  Greetings, Karaneshel.

  He did not recognize the being’s features, although he knew it was a form often used by Council members in their more charitable dealings with non-drakes. However, he did recognize the voice.

  Melorish.

  She smiled.

  Drop the disguise, he said. It doesn’t fool me.

  Her smile grew. Do you not fear to look upon my true form with human eyes?

  I’m a drake.

  Not anymore.

  He roared and lunged for her, but the balance of his new body was wrong.

  She sidestepped his clumsy charge, and he crashed to the forest floor. Snarling, he climbed back to his hands and knees. Drake rage welled within him, but he recalled the result of the first—and, he swore, last—time he gave into that rage. He drew a deep, calming breath.

  You are human now. Melorish studied him briefly and smiled again. Or human enough. A fitting punishment for your transgressions, don’t you agree?

  A growl built in his throat. He swallowed it and sat back on his heels again.

  Fear not, your transformation need not be forever. Renounce your interest in human affairs, pledge your allegiance to the Council, and we will restore your true form.

  He bit back another snarl. I will never serve the Council! My interest in humans is my business, not yours. Leave me. I renounce my interest in drakes.

  Very well, but you’d best find some clothing. It will be dark soon, and the woods will grow cold. It would do no good if you were to die of a chill before you had the chance to fully experience your… humanity. She gestured behind him. To make certain you are capable of defending yourself against foes more tangible than the elements, we have left you one remnant of your drake nature.

  A black sword and dirk lay on the forest mulch. Their grips and blades seemed formed of the same dark, glossy substance as drake claws. The weapons tugged at his awareness. He reached toward them. They leaped from the ground and snapped into his grasp.

  Good luck, Karaneshel. We will be watching to see how long it takes you to change your mind.

  He gripped the dark weapons. It will never change!

  We shall see. She turned and walked away. In less than five steps, she had faded from view.

  Karaneshel fought down another roar, hands shaking and knuckles white from his fierce grip on the weapons.

  He studied them. He knew nothing about using blades. Releasing the roar, he cast them away. A hot liquid burned his eyes. He squeezed them shut, and the liquid spilled down his face. He wiped it away with his fingertips and touched it to his tongue. Salty. Tears. Human tears.

  Human… a fitting punishment.

  He moaned and collapsed to the ground, shuddering with unfamiliar, heart-rending emotion.

  Sometime later, he sensed the approach of another drake and saw the bright light of its disguise. He struggled to control his sobs.

  Oh, Karaneshel, his sire’s voice whispered in his mind, heavy with despair, look how far you have fallen.

  Then he was alone.