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DRAGON
WEATHER
Lawrence Watt-Evans

Copyright © 1999 by Lawrence Watt-Evans



Dedicated to Charles Worsley,
an honorable man,
and the man who has made my sister happy



Book I

Arlian




1

Dragon Weather

The sky to the west was dark with heavy black
clouds; Arlian didn’t like it at all. He was eleven
years old, almost a man by the standards of his
village, but right now he felt much younger, and
very unsure of himself—his father was away, and
the weather seemed threatening and unnatural. He
stayed close to his mother as she stood staring
down the slope of the mountain, watching the men
of the village haul the heavy water wagons back up
the winding, stone-paved road.
Oxen would have made the hauling much easier,
but the village had no place to graze oxen on the
rocky mountainside; what little arable soil they had
was all reserved for human needs. That meant that
the men of Obsidian had to use their own muscles
to fetch water up from the river.
In another year or two Arlian would be big
enough to join them, but for now he stood beside
his mother and watched.
Arlian’s mother fanned herself with one hand,
while the other clutched at her black-and-gold
brooch, holding her collar open; the air was thick,
hot, and stagnant, and her gray dress was soaked in
sweat. “I can’t stand weather like this,” she said. “I’ll
almost be glad to see winter come this year!”