After her encounter with Fin, Evalon knew better than to discuss what she'd heard from the Gnapsonhilth Woods with anyone; it was clear no one else had heard it. So when Evalon walked through the living room on her way to her bedroom and her aunt questioned why Evalon looked so pale, she mumbled something about not feeling well and shut herself in her room to avoid further interrogation. 

After her racing heart had calmed and her mind had cleared, Evalon finally understood why the roar had sounded so familiar: It had been a dragon roar. It had been hard to recognize at first between Evalon's sudden panic and the grief disorienting the cry, but after she replayed the sound over and over again in her head, Evalon recognized it for what it was. Instead of feeling a thrill of exhilaration at having been so close to a live, wild dragon like she would have, Evalon felt a sense of dread at the thought of what had caused such a mournful, dismal sound to come from a dragon. Unable to let the matter go, Evalon decided to conduct some research.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor by the piles at the foot of her bed, Evalon traced a finger down the spines of her books, sometimes pulling a volume or two from the stacks. Once satisfied with the size of her research sources, Evalon got down to work. She started with a thick, well-worn book titled Dragon Lexicon by one Laverne H. Canard. The words were arranged alphabetically, and she quickly found the R's to look under 'roars'. The book described the common, rooster-like trill that all dragons had, along with how dragons communicated territorial boundaries through roars. The book even went disturbingly in depth with different dragon species' mating calls and other courting rituals, but nothing that described anything like what Evalon had heard.

Placing the book aside, Evalon reached for another. And another. And another. Nothing she read yielded answers. As her sources grew thin, Evalon began to lose hope at finding anything.

It wasn't until she got to the near bottom of her stack did Evalon find something.  She found it in a disappointingly thin text with a plain, black cover with Dragon Connections: A Psychological and Emotional Analysis by Thokki Zlagg, DHE written in embossed golden text. Skimming through the first chapter, Evalon spotted something in a section about inter-dragon relationships. It read: 

A dragon clan is structured much like a human one. A clan will mostly consist of families that have sworn loyalty to one another. They are usually led by a single family called the Tête. All dragons within a clan are extremely loyal to one another-- especially to the Tête. However, if the family shows signs of weakness or inability to lead, other dragon families may revolt and overthrow the Tête.

The father of the ruling family is the chief superior and protector of the clan. The Tête father can be identified through his powerful roar. Those who have heard it and lived to tell about it have described the Tête father's roar as "soul-piercing." One Derik Reebs described it to have "shook me to the very center. It was like pure power had been made into sound. It wasn't scary. If fact, it was almost calming." This statement led many dracologists to believe that the Tête father's roar has influence over emotions. Proof as to whether or not this is true has yet to be discovered.

The only roar more powerful than that of the Tête father is the mournful cry of a mother dragon's keening. This mysterious lament is thought by many drocologists to be a thing of myth. Whether fact or fiction, a mother dragon's keening is said to be pure mourning vocalized. Keening is reserved for the most lamentable of occasions, such as the death of a hatchling. There is no record of any such sound, and few believe it to exist-- particularly because, while loyal to their clans, dragons are extremely selfish creatures and any mourning would be against their nature. This is supported in particular by the fact that when a Tête father grows too old or weak for leadership, he is ejected from the clan and his youngest son is set to replace him as the head.

Evalon placed a ribbon in the book to mark the page and then proceeded to pace the room end to end, thinking hard. The roar Evalon had heard could only be the keening mentioned in the passage. It described it perfectly: Pure mourning vocalized. So that was it, then. Evalon had found her answer. So why did she feel so sad?

Reading the passage a second time told her why: Keening is reserved for the most lamentable of occasions, such as the death of a hatchling. Is that what had happened? Had a mother dragon come across her dead offspring and let loose the sound of ultimate loss? Evalon hoped not. The thought made her heart feel heavy.

Skimming through her other books, Evalon noted that there was no mention of keening in any of them. She couldn't find it under the K's in Dragon Lexicon or any hint of the word in some of her most reliable dragon-knowledge sources. Dragon Connections did say that the keening was often thought to be a thing of legend. That would explain why the professors and drocologists who authored her books would leave it unmentioned; their professional reputations could be questioned at the mention of something so mythic.

Evalon wished she could get a second opinion. Maybe she could ask Fin.  He certainly knew a lot about dragons. Maybe he would have a book she didn't. It would also give Evalon an opportunity to prove to him that she wasn't crazy and that she actually had heard something from the woods. Now if she could just work up the courage to ask...

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. When she called for the knocker to enter, she was surprised to find Uncle Hyron in her doorway. She suddenly felt nervous and flustered, her mind thinking back to the last time they had spoken. Was he mad at her?

Hyron didn't say anything, just stood at the threshold. He seemed as uncomfortable as Evalon. They stood in an awkward silence until Evalon couldn't stand it anymore. "You're home early," she said, breaking the silence.

"It's my lunch break and I forgot to pack something. Listen, Lonny, about last night..."

Evalon knew what he was going to say. He was going to tell her off for speaking so boldly against the organization he worked for. He was going to tell her that what she did was out of line and that she was just a child and, as such, should show more respect to her elders and betters. But Evalon refused to take back what she said. The dragons deserved better, and if Hyron hated her for speaking up, then so be it.

"I don't think you fully understand the situation," her uncle was saying. "It's far more complicated than you think." Evalon started to scowl and he quickly continued, "Which is why I want to bring you with me when I return to the office after lunch."

Evalon blinked, not sure she had heard him correctly. "I... What?" she asked, confused.

"I'd like to bring you with me to the office after lunch," Hyron repeated. "I'll show you around the compound and explain to you the pieces of the story that you're missing-- and maybe even catch a glimpse of a Keep of two. "

Was he serious? Going to the DCA offices? It was too good to be true!

Her happiness faded as she saw a problem. "What about Mylane? She doesn't want me anywhere near the dragons."

"You let me worry about your aunt," Hyron told her. "Just be ready to leave after lunch. Assuming you want to come?"

"Yes!" she said, a little too quickly.

A hint of a smile played on Hyron's face. "Good. Let's eat up, then. Mylane's made caramel and blueberry custard for dessert."

"Hic." Evalon turned pink and mumbled an apology. She had been so excited to see the DCA offices that she'd plowed through her lunch too quickly, and now she had a major case of hiccups.

Evalon followed Hyron through the woods. Their pace was slower than Evalon would have liked in her excitement, but with her uncle's limp and the uneven footing of the forest, she forced herself to be patient. 

They had entered the trees about one-hundred fifty yards from where Evalon and Elen had to spy on the Dragon Keep. There was no path, but Hyron seemed to know where he was going. Evalon knew the offices couldn't be seen from the village as part of their security, but she wondered just how deep into the woods they would have to travel to get there.

Evalon hiccuped again, her gasp echoing off the quiet trees. Uncle Hyron laughed and Evalon giggled nervously. The laughter seemed to ebb away some of the tension between them. It was enough to give Evalon the courage to say, "How did you convince Mylane to let me come with you?"

"Well, it wasn't easy. She made me swear that I wouldn't let you within fire-breathing, dart-throwing, or ice-spitting distance of any dragon of any species. I'm surprised she didn't force me into a blood pact."

"You know, dragons have blood pacts," Evalon told him. "When the head of a clan dies with no heir to succeed him, the clan will-"

"Swear loyalty to the Tête mother through a blood pact," Hyron finished. "Yes, I know. I studied clan relationships when I went to school here."

Evalon froze, forcing Hyron to stop as well. "You went to the Dragonknight academy?!"

Hyron smiled and shrugged guiltily. "That was a long time ago." He continued walking and Evalon hurried to catch up.

"Why didn't you ever tell me? About school, about working for the DCA, any of it? Why keep it secret?"

Hyron didn't answer for so long that Evalon started to think that he was going to ignore her. Then he sighed and began, "I was a lot like you in my younger days. I was fascinated by dragons-- enthralled with them. It was like an addiction. The more I learned, the more I wanted to know. I graduated from school, given the honorary title of 'Dragonknight'."

"Honorary?"

"The title is reserved for those who ride dragons. I didn't actually ever ride a dragon: I have a potent fear of heights. But I still desperately wanted to work with the magnificent creatures. So I applied for an internship at the DCA offices. I was accepted. I mostly sorted papers for my overseer, but after a few months, I was promoted to manager of a Keep."

"And you allowed the dragons to be caged and mistreated like they are?" Evalon asked, unable to believe it.

"No. Things were different back then. Yes, we kept the dragons contained within the Keep, but they would roam about freely."

"And after seeing that, you think it's okay for them to be caged and fed through bars?" Evalon demanded, feeling a spark of her rage from last night returning.

"No," Hyron said gently. "No, it's not okay. But, unfortunately, it is necessary. But I'll get to that later. As I was saying, I was promoted to Keep manager. That's how I met Mylane."

"Mylane worked for the DCA, too?" Evalon asked. No, the idea seemed impossible.

Hyron laughed loudly. "Oh, goodness, no! No, her father worked there. In fact, he was my overseer. She used to bring her father lunch every Tuesday.

"Anyway, shortly after Mylane and I were married, I was working late one night. A mother dragon was about to pass her egg-- a rather painful process-- and someone had to be there to watch over her. It had been a long day and all of the Keepers who would usually keep an eye on her had left for the day before we discovered her condition. I volunteered to stay and watch over her. I had never done it before, but I had read plenty on the subject and had seen the process many times as manager, and it wasn't too complicated; I was confident I could handle it."

"So what happened?" Evalon asked.

"For a while, nothing. The mother dragon just sat in her nest, her body going through the process of preparing to pass her egg. I could tell she was in pain and I tried to make her comfortable. But I got cocky. When I brought her a tough of water to drink, I got too close, and she lashed out at me with her barbed tail. That's how I hurt my leg." He gestured towards his injured limb. "I passed out. Mylane noticed that I hadn't come home that night, so she asked your dad to investigate. He found me the next morning, bleeding out on the ground and the mother dragon curled up next to a brand new egg." 

They walked in silence, Evalon mulling over his words. So that was why Hyron walked with a limp. He had never told her, and Evalon had never asked, afraid that Hyron would be offended at her pointing out his differences. She had always assumed that he would tell her one day, and she had been right.

"Is that why Mylane is so afraid of dragons?" she asked quietly.

Hyron nodded. "I was lucky to escape with my life, let alone my ability to walk. I had lost a lot of blood. The physicians called it a miracle. Mylane was frantic. She almost lost me that night to a dragon, even though I tried to explain that it had been my fault. But she was hysterical. She just shook her head, put her hands on her hips, and said, 'You'll say anything to make those beasts look innocent.' After that, I kept with deskwork and we moved to Gisla for a fresh start. There were DCA offices there, so I only had to transfer instead of applying for a new job."

"But that still doesn't explain all the secrecy," Evalon pointed out. "Why didn't you ever tell me."

Hyron glanced at her and smiled sadly. "Because, like I said, I was a lot like you when I was younger. I saw your passion for dragons before you could talk. You were constantly climbing on your dad's lap with a picture book in hand and begging him to tell you about 'dragoons'. As you grew, so did your fascination with dragons. When my brother died and you came to live with us, I worried that you'd end up like me, that you'd let your vast knowledge make you think you were immune to the dangers of dragons." He laughed. "If only I'd known back then that you would be too timid and humble for that."

Evalon felt herself blush at his compliment. "So why didn't you tell me until now? You had plenty of opportunities."

Hyron sighed and ran a hand through his disheveled blond hair. "I don't know. Each time I thought about it I would convince myself that the timing wasn't right, that you had other things to worry about, that is wasn't important. Looking back on it, all my excuses were pretty weak." He smiled sadly at her. "All I can say is that I'm sorry."

Before Evalon could think of a reply, the woods suddenly ended, making room for a large, squat building with large windows and manicured hedges lining the outer walls. It was made of the same bluish stone that the rest of the buildings in Mydalr were constructed of, except this structure seemed to catch the light better, causing it to glint and sparkle like a jewel. The roof was chiseled to look like waves of water were falling down the slope. A sign a few yards away from where Evalon and Hyron were standing sat a large stone that had letters embossed on its surface. It said, "Welcome to the DCA" in large gold letters, with "Dragon Control Association" written in smaller letters below. 

"Wow," Evalon breathed, taking in the sight before her.

"It's not a bad place, is it?" Hyron asked, stopping for a moment to let Evalon get a thorough look. 

"It amazing. A bit smaller than I imagined for the center of all of Eslait's air force," she admitted. 

Hyron laughed. "That's how you know things get done here. My dad used to tell me that big buildings are a compensation for the little work that gets accomplished within them."

Evalon laughed. That did sound like something her grandpa would say.

"Now then," Hyron said at last once Evalon had taken in the building a bit longer. "Shall we?"