“Did it feel good? What I did?”
“Yes,” he said, with no embarrassment, with nothing but simple honesty. “It felt beautiful. Like it was me and not me. Now, X’risp’hin, take my hand and touch you.”
I looked down at the hand. I picked it up as before, just holding it in front of me, not moving. I was afraid but I couldn’t exactly say why.
“Where do I touch myself?” I asked.
“Wherever feels good.”
I started on my chest and my stomach. Then I slid his beautiful, long hands across my shoulder, up the side of my neck and onto my cheek. I turned my nose right into it, smelling his warm palm, letting the heat transfer into my skin. I got bolder as my excitement grew. It felt like I was climbing the ladder on the biggest slide in the water park.
Davix said, “It’s good. You’re beautiful. Keep going.” And I did, and I made a noise which should have embarrassed me but didn’t.
And then his arm was too short to reach farther, and we froze for a second, staring into each other’s eyes. I let myself fall back on the bed, opening my arms to him, and all his patient reserve vanished. He climbed right over me, our bodies shouting with the hungry joy of touch, our lips coming together.
It wasn’t rocket science. I told him I liked kissing, and now he was kissing me. What would I ask for next?
Chapter 33: The Day of Jubilation
This time, Davix wasn’t gone in the morning.
Sex aside, do you know what’s amazing? Waking up with your body all rested and glowing, and looking across the disaster of sheets and blankets to see his beautiful face there. And how awesome was it to roll back into his arms and say, “Don’t tell me if my breath smells bad, okay?” And if you don’t know yet, don’t worry, you will. And you’re going to love it.
I guess I had the idea from movies that it’s always awkward the morning after sex. Well, not for Crispin and Davix. We were gorgeous and goofy and grinning into each other’s bleary faces. And kissing and getting turned on and doing it again.
Okay, wait a sec. Time out.
I don’t want to hold back and hide behind empty phrases like “doing it.” On the one hand, it’s not really your business, but on the other, maybe it’s important. What would it mean if I told you, in all my usual excruciating detail, about sheep fog and the architecture of Cliffside and how the DragonLaw works, but I made the sex all winking and metaphorical? I think it would mean I’m a hypocrite. So, I’ll tell you some real stuff. Even the clumsy parts, like where I accidentally bashed Davix in the balls with my elbow.
We kissed a lot, of course. And our tongues left the safe territory of our mouth and lips and went on epic journeys around jawlines, behind ears, down necks, and across nipples. At first, my mind wanted me to be grossed out by all the saliva and sweat and tastes, but my body assured me it was all amazing. We were literally hungry for each other. What then? I did get to show off the specialty I perfected on Altman, and if I do say so, I was inspired. His hands were in my hair, clenching and releasing as he made these awesome noises. Oh! And you know what’s insane fun? Just lining up your junk and grinding. There’s a word for it, but I can’t remember it in English or dragon tongue.
So, there, you satisfied? No metaphors, just bodily fluids. Look, Mom, I’m a pornographer. But I better stop now before we get too distracted.
No, wait, there’s one more thing. At one point, my panic started rising, and I stopped everything to say, “Look, Davix, I don’t want to do anal sex. Not now.”
Of course, I didn’t have to worry. “I don’t usually like to enter the nethers the first time with someone, anyway.”
“Nethers? Oh, you mean…got it.” I blushed and cracked up.
And that was it. My panic vanished, and we got back to business.
When we were done and done again, I picked up an imaginary bedside telephone and said, “Hello, room service? Eggs Benedict and champagne, please.”
“I only understood ‘eggs,’” Davix said with a dopey smile, disentangling himself from my arms and dabbing at us with a dry corner of the sheet. “Are you hungry?”
“Dying.”
“We’ll get some food soon. But first, let’s bathe again. And then we must clean the room.”
“The hell? What kind of resort is this? My review just dropped a star.”
So, in case you think being Dragon Groom is all glamour, you should know the job doesn’t exempt you from draining the tub, scrubbing it with sandy powder stuff, stripping the bed, remaking it with fresh linens, and taking the ones you stained to the laundry room.
As we headed back down the hall, we heard bangs and crashes from a nearby room. The door burst open, and out tumbled Grentz and another guy, rolling across the floor as they wrestled in nothing but their underwear.
“Relent!” Grentz shouted.
“Never!” the other guy called back.
“Come on, admit you’ve lost,” Grentz said, twisting the guy into a pretzel and climbing on top of him.
“I relent!” the guy finally shouted, his voice muffled by Grentz’s thigh.
They stood and did a friendly forearm shake. Grentz noticed us.
“Davix! X’risp’hin! You guys going to get breakfast? Give me a rabbit dash, and I’ll go with you.”
“A rabbit dash?” I asked Davix as Grentz and his friend headed back into the room, where I noticed a third guy still asleep on the bed.
“A very short interval of time.”
Grentz emerged almost immediately, wrinkled and mussed but ready to roll, wrapping his orange scarf around his thick neck as he closed the door behind him.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“You don’t have to clean the room?” I asked.
“Nope, I won the wrestling match.”
Soon, we were sitting on a bench, people-watching while we ate spicy eggs on a fresh bun.
“Can I ask you something, Grentz?” I said. “Something personal.”
He looked wary. “Maybe. About what?”
“Sex.”
His face lit up in a broad, dopey grin. “Oh, sure. I thought you meant, like, whether I pray in Open Heart style or Dawn Revelation style. That’s kind of private.”
“Yeah, no, I don’t even know what that…Never mind. See, I just don’t get how you can have sex with guys if you’re really into women.”
He looked confused. “Well, few people are totally exclusive. And even then, you can still give and take pleasure. I mean, that’s easy. That’s what friends do.”
“But it’s not the same feeling as when you, uh, visited the temple yesterday?”
“Oh, no, of course not. Being with a woman lights up all the fires in my body and soul. I’m so looped, I can barely speak. You know, like Davix is when he looks at you.”
I turned to grin at Davix and saw him blush for the first time. That was so cute, I had to lean in and kiss a drop of hot sauce off his upper lip.
“What’s ‘looped’?”
Grentz pulled off his scarf and lassoed me with it. “Like this. But with feelings instead. And frankly, I think Davix isn’t just looped with you. He’s tangled.”
“Practice some silence, fool,” Davix said, growing even redder. “We should get going. There is a prayer meeting after second bell. I think we’ll avoid the crowds in the Retreat of Tarn and attend a smaller service in the Park of the Five.”
“Smaller sounds good,” I said as we set off. “I hope you can find your way. The fog is worse than yesterday. It’s not going to lift, is it?”
Grentz said, “Of course it will. At the end of Sarensikar. Didn’t your time in Farad’hil deepen your faith?”
I tried to catch Davix’s eye, but he obviously didn’t want to get involved. We hadn’t talked about the weather or about his master, Tix-etnep-thon-dahé, or Atmospherics at all since I came back to town. But ever since we left the Comfort House, I had noticed him doing little weather testing things like licking a finger and raising it to feel the wind.
&nb
sp; Everyone we passed seemed to be in a good mood. How many of them had had their own special nights with friends after the dance? We came across Stakrat and Kriz’mig buying jars of preserved fruit from a vendor. I wondered if they were also fleshmates. Stakrat was in her usual practical clothes with the Defence of Realm sash across her chest, but Kriz’mig had made an effort. She wore layers of silky material in green and yellow, a bunch of jangly bracelets, and a kind of turban on her head.
“X’risp’hin!’ she cried, jingling over to hug me. “Are you ready for the second day of Sarensikar? We call it the Day of Jubilation!”
“I was just noticing that people look jolly.”
Over Kriz’mig’s shoulder, I saw Stakrat giving me the once-over, her head tilted to the side.
She said, “I know why the Copper Guest and D’gada-vixtet-thon are jubilant.”
Grentz punched her on the shoulder. “Shh, you’ll make Davix blush again. He was red as lava spew before.”
Davix, annoyed, walked past them, calling over his shoulder, “We’re late. Follow, you juveniles.”
The four of us stumbled after him like a gang of puppies, deliberately bumping into each other, feeding each other spoonfuls of the preserved fruit. A chaperone fell into place behind us, but I ignored him just like the others always did.
Soon, we came to the Park of the Five, a square I hadn’t seen before. Wait, is it still called a square if it’s round? You could call it a round, I guess, but that’s a kind of a song. Or a cracker. Anyway, the floor of the circle was light-coloured stones, with darker stones laid into them, forming a five-pointed star. At each star point was a huge fir tree, and on each thick trunk hung a big rectangular panel with a painting of a dragon. I recognized Sur, Renrit, and Inby. Renrit, I should point out, looked a lot slimmer in the painting than in real life. Was the artist trying to be flattering, or had the editor of the DragonLaw gained all that weight since the painting was done?
“Oh, wow,” I said. “Is tonight when they do their flyover?”
“Yep!” Grentz shouted, jumping up to try and touch the bottom edge of one of the paintings. “It’s the culmination of the second day of Sarensikar.”
The park was filling up now. I gave Sur’s painting a little wave and then moved on to the biggest painting of all, lavishly decorated with gold and jewels. The dragon in it had twice as many fringes as Sur, all tied with golden bangles. It had to be Etnep, the Queen, my mate. I wondered what I would feel when she flew over that evening. Would my copper blood respond? Would she “light up all the fires in my body and soul,” like the priestesses did for Grentz?
I did a test: I looked at Davix, who was standing across the park. My gaze wandered over his legs and butt, his narrow hips, his wide shoulders, the hair falling across them. Maybe he felt me looking, because he turned and pierced me with those dark eyes. Oh, yes, fires lit up. All of the fires. If any dragon could make me feel that, I’d be more surprised than if I found Tiqokh doing an open mic night at a comedy club.
I walked over to Davix and put my arm around his waist. Together, we looked up at the dragon in the last painting. She was a deep green, like a mysterious forest. Her long tail curled in an S-shape, and her face was serene.
“I love this image of Vixtet, X’risp’hin. She looks so wise and powerful. It is so propitious that my first union with you should be on the same day I see her again.”
“So, that’s Vixtet. She’s…”
And that’s when I remembered Vixtet was sick. Maybe dying. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten, and forgotten to tell Davix the news about his house’s official dragon. If I told him now, he’d think I was a totally self-centred asshole. But if the dragons flew over, and she wasn’t there, what was I going to say?
“She’s what?”
“Beautiful.” I turned away. “It will be great to see her again. Them. All of them. Hey, look, there’s Tix-etnep-thon-dahé.”
The old man sat on a low tree stump in the middle of the park, wrapped in a fringed, blue shawl, smiling up at the painting of Etnep. The kingsolver Flak was on his shoulder, tugging at the old man’s earring with his beak.
Davix ran over, kneeling on one knee in front of him.
“Master-da! How did you get here? I would have fetched you if I knew you wanted to attend the morning prayers.”
“I am happy to see you, D’gada-vixtet-thon.” The old man put a hand on Davix’s shoulder. “Do not worry yourself. I awoke very early, and the mule and I had a slow and pleasant journey. That’s twice I’ve come to Cliffside in eight days. I will lose my hard-won reputation as a misanthrope. You look well, Dragon Groom. Flak tells me you had adventures and trials in Holy Farad’hil.”
I doubted the bird was really his news source, though he did look pretty sharp for a bird.
“Yes, sir. I feel much better.”
“No doubt my wayward lead apprentice has aught to do with your recovery. But I think you would do well to avoid the Prime Magistrate today.” He reached up a bony old hand to feed his bird a piece of fruit.
“That’s why we came to the Park of the Five for our prayers, Master-da.”
Surprised, I asked Davix, “Wait, did something happen with you and Grav’nan-dahé? Are we avoiding him?”
The kingsolver opened its wings and cawed loudly. Tix-etnep-thon-dahé squinted into the distance and sighed.
“I fear your stratagem was in vain, Apprentice.”
Grav’nan-dahé was striding into the circle now, followed by a couple of his stilt-hat priests. They all carried fancy leather volumes.
“Tarn’s blood,” Davix muttered. He looked around nervously. “Come on, X’risp’hin, let’s go to the back of the crowd.”
“We could just leave.”
“No, I don’t want to miss the prayers.”
Why? I wasn’t raised with any religion, and it was hard to imagine risking trouble just to say nice things to the dragons. Did they even know or care? Maybe they had some kind of baby monitor to listen in on the service. Grav’nan-dahé and his buddies were standing on a flat rock under the painting of Etnep, and we were positioned behind two tall people at the other end of the circle.
The service wasn’t much fun—not even any good tunes—and my mind wandered to the previous night. I think I was trying to count from memory how many freckles Davix had on his lower back when I heard the Prime Mugwump’s voice rise from its monotone.
“D’gada-vixtet-thon, remain where you are.” I snapped out of fantasyland fast. The service was over, and people were busy blessing each other.
“He saw us.” I gasped.
Davix didn’t answer. His face turned into an unreadable mask.
Approaching us, Grav’nan-dahé said, “It is less than two days since you and I last met, D’gada-vixtet-thon. At the time, I was shocked by the change in your ways. I hoped my intervention might make you reflect on your behaviour. I am sad to see it has not. You are in danger of throwing away all you have worked for.”
His beautiful, warm eyes grown cold and hard, Davix loudly answered, “I throw away nothing, Prime Magistrate. I am using all I have learned from my elders and making decisions for myself.”
“Silence! You will speak if and only if I ask you a question.”
I said, “Hey, easy. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
As I had learned the day before, Grav’nan-dahé no longer felt he owed me any special politeness. “Copper Guest, you will cease to involve yourself in matters you know nothing about.”
I wanted to tell Grav’nan-dahé to fuck himself. But he was one of those people who just make your tongue tie itself in knots. Basically, I was a chickenshit and backed away, joining Kriz’mig, Grentz, and Stakrat in the crowd of onlookers. They didn’t look any braver than me.
Grav’nan-dahé turned his spotlight-of-nasty back on Davix. “Counting your misdeeds would take me all day. But I will remark on one. The young men and women who dance in the competition do so for the glory of the great dragons. To dance, as you
did, in a state of spiritual imbalance is to mock the gifts of our holy lords. You danced purely for your own glory. Were they not fair and equitable, the dragons would punish the People for your blasphemy.”
Davix just stood there like a waxwork and took it. I wanted to throw my arms around him and tell him he was the best boy in the world.
Finally, Tix-etnep-thon-dahé stepped forward to speak. He seemed older and more feeble than ever.
“Prime Magistrate, this has been a trying time for my apprentice. He has known loss and confusion. Show him some patience.” The kingsolver on his shoulder was glaring at Grav’nan-dahé like he wanted to fly over and peck out an eye.
“Atmospherics Master, your apprentice has not been at his post for many days. He has abandoned you, but your compassion blinds you to this insult. I will deal with the situation.” He took a step closer to Davix. “D’gada-vixtet-thon. You will, without comment, turn and leave this place. You will return to your quarters to retrieve minimal supplies and leave Cliffside. You will undertake a forty-day retreat and daylight fast. You will reflect on your actions and change the course of your life. This is the last chance you have to make amends. Do you understand?”
Davix was still as a statue. The deadness of his eyes scared me. After a short pause, he gave a shaky nod and turned. He didn’t look at me. He just walked away, pushing past people who were staring in shock at the scene. Then he was gone.
I stared up with hate at the Prime Magistrate, and still I didn’t speak. He threw me a contemptuous look, like I was a mouse, or a single piece of mouse poop, and then turned oh so casually to talk to others in the crowd who were waiting for a chance to fawn over him up close and personal.
Stakrat put an arm around me, and I almost started crying.
“Just before Sur brought you back, Grav’nan-dahé and Davix had a confrontation.”
“What kind of confrontation?”
“I heard Grav’nan-dahé slapped him. In public.”
“I want to kill him,” I hissed. “How does he get away with acting like that?”
My anger clearly upset Grentz. He said, “He’s the Prime Magistrate. He wants what’s best for the People. I love Davix, but he has to follow the law, the same as us.”
The Dubious Gift of Dragon Blood Page 22