And there it was. A feeling of rightness to the words. It was far more subtle than its opposite, yet easy enough to feel if she kept her awareness open to it.
Gripped by eagerness, she asked, "And you won the duel, and he gave you the power to call the wind?"
The high lord eyed her speculatively, and she knew then that she'd overplayed her hand. This time, his response came out in a leisurely drawl.
"Doyouthink I beat the dragon in a sword fight?"
Cera wet her lips. There could be no backtracking now. Not when she now knew for certain that Isael could tell both when she was lying and when she was telling the truth. And unlike her, he wasn't exploring the contours of a new ability. He'd likely had many centuries to learn the nuances of the invasive talent. He'd probably know better than she did if she were lying.
Briefly, she reflected on the famous duel. Desperate to save his people, Isael had climbed the mountain to challenge the legendary god of the winds. If he lost, Isael would give the dragon the coveted crown of Ishvalier, but if he won, the dragon would have to aid him in ending the war.
In his arrogance, the dragon had agreed before learning the terms of the duel. It was to be fought not with magic, but with swords. The dragon had taken human form to duel him, but for all his considerable power, he couldn't wield a blade like an elf, let alone Isael, who was said to be a master swordsman. Isael had defeated him handily, and for his prize, the god had imbued the young lord with the power to control the winds.
It was a tale told around the world, not just because it marked the end of an age and the ascension of a ruler, but it was also renowned for its message.
To the weak, it spoke of how effort and a bit of cunning could help a man defeat a god.
To the powerful, it was a cautionary tale of not resting on one's laurels, or being overconfident in one's abilities.
To Cera, the whole story seemed a bit far-fetched.
Matching his drawl, she watched his face as she responded, waiting for a sign that she'd rowed out farther than she could swim back.
"Even if he'd never held a sword, I don't think the dragon would allow himself to lose to an elf. Dragons are prideful creatures."
"You know much of dragons?"
Was he trying to distract her?
"Only what I've read in books. I've never seen one."
A dark brow lifted. "Perhaps not. But perhaps you have. The dragon gods can take the form of men. Mostly, they do it to steal, but some are fond of exploring and learning."
Cera couldn't keep the question in any longer.
"AreyouAvalrashael?"
The high lord let out a low chuckle. "How did you arrive at that question?"
The fact that he didn't answer set her pulse to racing. She had to pause to collect her thoughts and will herself not to grow faint. All the while, Isael watched her through narrow, unblinking eyes.
Finally, she said, "The last lord of Ishvalier climbed up a mountain to duel a dragon. He came down claiming to have defeated the dragon and acquired his powers. But it's as you said, dragons can take the form of men, and some can be powerful illusionists. Perhaps the elf did defeat the dragon in a duel, but isn't it more likely that the dragon defeated the elf and decided to take advantage of the fact that there were few left who'd recognize him?"
Isael inclined his head. "It's an intriguing theory, but what would he have to gain?"
"He'd be the high lord of the elves."
"But to what end?"
Cera scrambled for a response, no small feat considering her mind was reeling with the implications of their conversation.
"Well, he'd be high lord of the elves," she said again. "He'd control a third of the continent, he'd be an esteemed ruler, and he'd be able to live in splendor."
Isael smiled, not just a quirk of his sensuous lips, but a full baring of his teeth. Had his canine teeth always been so sharply pointed?
The Secret
As quickly as Isael's smile had come, it was gone. It twisted into something rueful, and a trifle bitter.