by Audrey Faye
That settled something deeper than Jae’s belly. She reached up a hesitant hand, afraid to touch and needing to. Dragon scales were so beautiful in the light.
Fendellen arched her neck. ::All dragons like to be told we’re pretty. And there is a place just above my eye crests that is always itchy.::
Jae jumped as a head nuzzled her, much like the goats did when they wanted to be petted. Very slowly, she let her fingers touch the skin over the eye ridge. It had no scales, just a leathery toughness.
It twitched under her fingers, and she jumped again.
::Touch like you mean it, youngling.:: Fendellen sounded greatly amused. ::Otherwise, it tickles.::
Dragons were ticklish? Jae’s laughter squirted out into the noonday sun.
Fendellen gave her a glare that didn’t look scary at all. ::You’re going to be a troublesome kin, are you?::
Kin. Jae had no idea what to make of such an idea. Bonded to a dragon. It seemed like the stuff of dreams, but she could feel the truth of it inside her. Perhaps dragons needed servants, like the fancy ladies in far-off lands.
::Never.:: Fendellen sounded almost grim. ::A kin bond is a pairing of equals. You are not less.::
Jae shook her head, but she had no words. So she did as Gran always said to do when there were too many plants in the forest. Pick one at a time. She looked out over the vast expanse of snow beneath them. They would fly together, and then she would deal with whatever came after. She unfurled her feathers and shivered as the cold touched her skin.
::We can wait.:: Fendellen sounded worried, maybe even a little panicked. ::We can fly when it is warmer.::
Jae felt laughter bubbling up in her throat again. ::Then we will be stuck in that cave until spring and you will die of hunger. I heard your belly rumbling earlier.::
Fendellen looked chagrined. ::Others would bring us food.::
That was only for the elderly or very sick. ::My skin sometimes shivers in the wind, but I will tell you if I’m truly cold. Today I’m just very awake and excited.:: And nervous and stunned, but she was not a mouse. Whatever this was, she would meet it with her head high and make Gran proud.
A long silence. She could feel her dragon’s eyes watching her. Then long, ice-blue wings unfurled, and a warm nose nudged her shoulders. ::To the skies, sweet one.::
Jae felt the bond between them tugging, almost a physical thing. ::You will come?::
::I will be right beside you.::
She felt the tears trying to brim over again and blinked them back. It would not do to freeze her cheeks. Even if this was only a very long and strange dream, to fly with another was a thought that made her shake with happiness.
The skies had always been her freedom—and the loneliest place on earth.
She tipped forward, her wings catching the updraft running up the cliff, letting it toss her into the sky.
She felt the surprise behind her, and the glee. A breath later, winds buffeted her as ice-blue dragon wings flapped just off the tip of her own feathered ones. ::That was a beautiful takeoff, youngling. Just like the eagles. I did not know such a thing was possible for a larger flier.::
Jae caught a new updraft, letting the sky carry her up on a current of pure, hot joy. ::I watch the mountain birds. It’s how I learned.::
::Ah.:: Amusement again—and pride. ::The other dragons will spend much time trying to copy your smoothness.::
Jae stuttered and nearly fell out of the sky. ::Other dragons?::
::We go to the village,:: Fendellen said softly. ::Of dragons and their kin.::
She swallowed hard, not sure what was more frightening. ::Human kin?::
::A few. Mostly elves.:: A sharp prickle, like a porcupine had just sat down inside Jae’s head. ::You will not fear them.::
She was far more worried they would fear her.
::We would never fear one who can fly so beautifully.::
Jae’s wings stuttered again.
Off in the distance, a speck appeared.
::Fear not. Afran is a friend, and his kin, Karis, rides on his back.::
Jae stared at the black speck off in the distance. She could see no rider, but the dragon was tiny yet.
Spluttering laughter. ::He is not tiny—in fact, he is rather large. But he is calm and wise, and the other dragons listen to him.::
::He was also the only one willing to spend hours in the cold sky this morning,:: said a dry voice Jae didn’t recognize. ::I’m Karis, youngling, and I’m delighted to meet you. We’ll have you tucked into some warm soup in a short while.::
Jae knew she was hungry. She could feel the weakness in her wings. But it was a small thing. She was flying. In the light. With three others in the huge sky, even if two were still far away—and she could feel their sincerity and their honest, open warmth.
They looked on her wings and saw nothing to fear.
Choking sadness tangled with the joy inside her. This had been missing her entire life.
::It is not missing any longer.:: Fendellen sounded gentle and terribly fierce. ::There will be those who will not accept, but they do not live in the village. And no dragon will shun you. This, I promise.::
Jae blinked at the certainty in Fendellen’s voice. And then blinked again because the much larger dragon was getting closer, and he was as big as a mountain. She could feel her wings trembling. If he decided she was to be feared, no one would be able to say differently.
Spluttering from the dragon beside her—and then an odd silence.
One that might have worried Jae more if the enormous black dragon hadn’t turned neatly in the sky in a way she would have found challenging with her much smaller body, and lined up with her wing tip. The woman on his back held up a small bag. “If I throw this, can you catch? There are two meat pies inside. I don’t expect they’re very warm anymore, but they will fill the gaping hole in your belly until we can get more food in you.”
She was flying in the sky with dragons, and they were talking about food.
Jae felt like she’d flown headfirst into an enormous tree, but she managed to get her hands on the small satchel that was thrown her way. Gran was fond of tossing things, and woe to the apprentice who dropped a medicine that had taken days or weeks to make.
She wasn’t sure her belly even remembered how to be hungry anymore, but one careful look in the satchel proved she was wrong. There were indeed two meat pies nestled in a cloth inside the well-used leather, and one sniff had her mouth watering so much, she nearly drooled.
::Slowly, youngling.:: Karis, somehow still talking in her head. ::If you’ve not eaten for a while, just a bite or two until we see if your belly is going to rebel.::
Jae could have pointed out that even the lowliest healer’s apprentice never forgot that lesson after they’d worn the consequences a time or two, but she was too busy breaking off a bite and trying to hold the satchel close enough to her mouth that she didn’t lose a single bit of the flaky pastry.
::There’s a whole tray of them waiting when you get to the village.:: Afran this time, and he sounded amused. ::Kellan knows how much Fendellen likes them.::
Shame flamed in Jae’s cheeks. She turned upside down and came up just below her dragon, flying belly to belly, and held up the satchel. ::I didn’t know they were to share. I’m so sorry.::
::They’re not, sweet one. I ate before I flew last night, so my stomach can wait for Kellan’s tray.:: Fendellen’s eyes were wide with surprise. ::But that’s a very impressive flying trick.::
Jae ducked out of her dragon’s way and resumed a more sedate flight beside her. ::I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to show off.::
She didn’t miss the exchange of glances across her wings. Or the flash of anger in Fendellen’s eyes, but it was the dark dragon who spoke. ::Youngling, I believe you’ll discover that dragons appreciate talented flying—and it appears you are well matched. Fendellen is one of our most skilled fliers.::
The idea that she might be a good flier was so far beyond Jae’s ken tha
t she could hardly find her words. ::The eagles are far better than I am.::
She heard Karis’s bright laugh, outside her head this time instead of inside it. ::That’s a high standard you have. I only know of one or two dragons who could have pulled off that upside-down maneuver close in like you just did, and I get the feeling you weren’t even trying hard.::
Jae had no idea what to say. Absolutely none at all.
But as she flew over the bright snow, flanked by two dragons, something inside her that had been twisted and tight for as long as she could remember started to loosen.
Interlude
Lovissa felt her tail thump in the snow of the ledge she had landed on, and sighed. She knew better than to let her discomfort reveal itself in her body. Such things could get a dragon warrior filled with arrows.
She used her tail to brush more of the snow from the flat rock instead. One of her favorite thinking places in summer, but in the dead of winter, her attendants would have fits that she had left the warmth of cave and home.
They didn’t understand a queen’s need for solitude.
She had much to think about. The Dragon Star had marked the fourth pair, and only five were needed. Her dragons might be spending the winter in rare relaxation, but Lovissa could feel the weight of prophecy descending from the sky.
A weight an ice-blue dragon was trying to pull onto her own scales and not share.
Lovissa blew smoke and fire out into the chill air. She shouldn’t doubt the choices of one who would be queen, but this troubled her. The star had called the girl. Firmly and clearly and with some recklessness. Lovissa knew little of humans, but that one had been near dead with cold before Fendellen had shown up.
It wasn’t for queens to question stars, either, but she was out here on this ledge because her opinions, sharp and discontented, refused to quiet.
Perhaps the Dragon Star had reasons for its haste. And if it did, Fendellen’s choice might bring disaster to the dragons of the Veld.
Lovissa knew, all too well, the necessity of time—and its dangerous allure. She yearned for it. Time for her dragons to live. To dance and write ballads and eat too much. They kept watch on the passes still, but they saw elves only rarely. And two more clans had presented Timot with broken dragonkiller arrows. That wasn’t nearly all of them, even on the northern slopes. But it was momentous, even so.
Or a softening of her warriors that might hasten their end.
She blew out a stream of fire over a small valley that would be lovely in spring, refusing to let her tail thump like an agitated youngster.
There were good reasons not to fight. Strong ones. Ones that would make time for Quira to grow, and their next generation of warriors. Too much pressure too young, and even those with the finest hearts and minds could crack. It had happened all too often when the battles did not wait for their fighters to be ready.
There were no signs of battle. No portents of impending doom.
Save for one. The prophecy spoke of the five who would save dragonkind. Surely they did not come to save her dragons from badly rhymed ballads and bellies overfilled with food.
Which meant this lull, this tranquility, this peace—would not last.
Lovissa blew fire again, a queen’s futile response to dreams that came with muddled messages and far too few answers. And sent a thought she knew Fendellen would never hear. ::Don’t wait too long.::
Part II
Friends & Feathers
Chapter 8
Jae set down her empty mug of broth and gulped. She’d been treated so very kindly. They’d landed right beside a huge, strange round hut, and she’d been hurried in to a place by the fire, wrapped in blankets, and plied with fluffy bread and tasty broth. Karis peeked in on her every so often, but otherwise, she had been left alone.
Which must be Fendellen’s doing. Jae hadn’t been brave enough to wish for solitude out loud.
::It was, sweet one. Are you ready to come out?::
Jae gulped again, but her belly was full now, and there were no longer any excuses to keep hiding. None that Gran would have accepted, anyhow, and repaying kindness with cowardice went against everything Jae had ever been taught. She held on to the edge of the table and stood, giving herself a moment to find her balance. It was an odd sensation to stand and walk with her wings unbound.
She reached for the large cloak hanging on a peg by the kitchen door. Karis had left it for her after taking a good look at Jae’s boots and deciding they were acceptable. The cloak was almost as thick as the ones of the high mountains, and she wrapped herself in its comforting scratchy weight. Then she swallowed, because it was far shorter than the one she’d left behind. It did very little to hide her wings.
She felt the need to scurry into hiding like a little mouse clawing at her belly. She’d caught only glimpses of the village as they had landed, but it was far bigger than home and full of strangeness. Round houses and paths far wider than any human would need, and scattered bits and pieces lying around that would blow away in the high mountains.
There must be so many people living in those houses. More than she could count on all her fingers and toes and probably Fendellen’s claws, too. Maybe even more than when the traveling markets came to the mountains and people journeyed in from days around.
A head popped in the door of the kitchen, and an icy wind with it. Fendellen’s eyes scanned her top to bottom. ::That should keep you warm enough for a bit.::
Jae wasn’t worried about being cold, although after five days of worrying about little else, perhaps she should take more care. ::My village is small. This one is very large. Are there many people outside?:: Wanting a glimpse of the newcomer, no doubt.
Fendellen winced. ::More than a few. And quite a number of dragons as well.::
Of course. Both lived here, although that was even harder to imagine than round houses and a village bigger than a market festival.
::Come. Karis is clearing a rondo for us, so we’ll be tucked away soon enough, but a new kin bond doesn’t happen very often, and you’ve hidden in the kitchen long enough.::
That briskness that reminded her so much of Gran. Jae straightened her shoulders. The villagers weren’t waiting to stare at her wings. They were waiting to stare at her dragon, or at least at the two of them together, and she didn’t want to embarrass the beautiful flying creature that had somehow chosen her.
Fendellen snorted. ::We were chosen for each other. This is as much your fault as mine, youngling.::
The oddness of that thought accompanied Jae out the door. She took a deep breath of the bracing air. It was warmer than home, and far less windy, but winter nonetheless. She tipped her head to the sky, checking for any sign of the sun behind the clouds, an instinct well honed in any child of the mountains.
“It’s about halfway between midday and nightfall,” Karis said cheerfully, stepping in to her side. “We’ve cleared out a rondo for you to sleep in.” She gestured at one of the strange round huts. “It’s got a small bed and lots of blankets. If that doesn’t suit you, we can see what else we can wrangle.”
Jae stared. A whole family could live in the very smallest of the round houses. And an entire bed to herself was vast and strange.
“Families share beds in the mountains. I imagine she’ll find a bed of her own plenty suitable.” The older man who stepped in to her other side was gruff and fierce, but his eyes were kind. “I’m Irin. I’ll be the one teaching you to use a weapon properly once the spring melts come, but until then, I’m busy in the nursery. I’m kin bonded to Kis. He would like to hear the stories of your home when you have time to tell them. It’s a long while since we visited the mountains. The skies there were good flying.”
He knew something of the mountains. Jae let that settle some of the tightness trying to curdle the broth in her belly.
A peach-pink head ducked around his arm and nearly licked Jae’s nose.
Fendellen rumbled, and Irin glared, but it was the look one would give to a misbe
having child. “This troublemaker is Lotus. She’s kin to Sapphire, who should be around here somewhere.”
“Here,” said a voice that sounded very short of breath. “Karis said we were to stay out of sight until Jae was ready to meet us. I listened. Lotus clearly forgot where she put her ears this morning.”
Jae stared at the small elf with hair the color of burnished straw and dark, vivid eyes that told stories even when she wasn’t saying a word. She gulped and held out both hands in the way of the mountains. “I’m Jae, and I’m pleased to meet you.” That wasn’t entirely true, but it was the polite thing to say, and maybe if she worked hard enough to believe it, it would become true.
Sapphire’s eyes lit with pleasure as more people suddenly crowded around. “These are my friends, Lily and Alonia and Kellan.”
Jae could feel her head trying to explode. Four young women her own age in one village? She blinked, panic knocking against the backs of her knees.
“Your dress is beautiful. You’ll have to show me how you make those stitches.”
“Are you still hungry?”
“Fendellen is a wonderful dragon. Where did she find you?”
Jae didn’t know which ones had spoken. She was too busy watching the elf with dark hair and the dragon that had poked its head up the back of her cloak.
The elf reached under her cloak, a wry look on her face. “This is Oceana. She hates winter and loves climbing me like I’m a tree.”
Mellie’s little boy was like that.
Mellie.
Something crashed inside Jae’s head like a pile of drying pots and pans that had gotten too tall and finally fallen over. Mellie was five days away, and so were Gran and home and everything she had ever known. This strange place was full of too many questions and too many eyes peeking out of doors and around buildings and walking down the wide paths of the village like this many people was something that happened every day.