‘No doubt, with a god at your beck and call. Did you learn the art of taming dragons as a godsinger?’ At this, Dumai stopped. ‘My lord, a god cannot be tamed,’ she said quietly. ‘I am of the House of Noziken. My ancestor saved the great Kwiriki. They were bound by salt and blood, by milk and brine. It is that affinity, and that alone, that called the great Furtia to my side.’ The words swelled from the depths of her. The River Lord looked her up and down, fresh interest in his gaze. ‘Of course,’ he said, his smile brief. ‘Let us hope she will remain there, Princess Dumai. Dragons, after all,
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