Dragon Kin: Jae & Fendellen

by Audrey Faye

  Jae heard a sound, sharp and sad, and realized it was her own.

  A moment later, there was a sound in reply. A hiss, from the largest of the babies, this one black and on his feet in front of the yellow baby.

  Jae dropped to her knees, making herself smaller. Less scary. “I would not hurt her. Not ever. This I promise.” Her heart beat fast and full of aches. No one but Gran had ever protected her so fiercely. “You are a good friend.”

  Fendellen lowered her nose to the small black one. “This is Taenin.”

  Jae gave him a nod of respect and then held out her hand, very carefully, to the small yellow dragon. “Do you like to be scratched, little one? My wings get awfully itchy sometimes in places I can’t reach.”

  Bright gold eyes stared at her fingers.

  Jae didn’t move. “There are flowers growing near my village that are the same color as your scales. They’re called amarilli, and they’re very brave, one of the first to poke their heads up through the snow in spring.” She gulped, but said the next thought anyhow. “Sometimes there is another snowfall and the flowers end up looking a little squished. My gran taught me that those are the most special flowers. We never pick them because they give strong medicine back to the mountain.”

  A small golden head tilted, and then trilled, high and sharp and surprisingly loud.

  Fendellen rumbled in reply. “You like that name, do you, little one? We could call you Rilli.” She nodded at Jae. “It suits her. A good name for a special dragon.”

  A small head rubbing against her fingers seemed to agree.

  It was a good name. A strong name. Perhaps it would help keep her safe in a world that didn’t always tolerate differences very well.

  ::The world of humans and elves, perhaps.:: There was disdain in the ice-blue dragon’s tone. And anger. ::Dragons know to appreciate the gift of the special ones. Their strong medicine is not meant only for mountains.::

  Jae stared—and then felt the sharp tug on the lacings of the pants they’d altered yesterday. A small black dragon seemed rather astonished that they were still attached to her, and gave another pull.

  Kellan giggled. “Nothing is safe from these three.”

  Jae reached down and gently disengaged her clothes. These were her only pants for now, and they were so much more comfortable than a long woolen skirt. She scratched Taenin’s head and looked up at the older man who ran the nursery and had somehow not yet made it out the door. “Do you have any old leather lacings? In my village, we made ones with knots for babies to chew on.”

  Irin inclined his head slightly and reached for a basket tucked up on a high shelf. “I have some remnants from binding knife handles.”

  Rilli butted her head up against Jae’s other hand, clearly wanting some of what Taenin was getting.

  Jae smiled. They weren’t so very different from the littles of home.

  Kellan moved closer to help with the scratching and laughed as Rilli backed up into her strong fingers.

  Jae watched. “Are dragons always so itchy?”

  “The littles are.” Irin handed down some lengths of leather lacing. “They grow fast at this stage, and scales don’t adjust quite as easily as human skin.”

  “They’re twice as big as when they hatched.” Kellan sounded as proud as if she’d laid every egg herself. She shook her head fondly at Rilli. “Only silly dragons pick midwinter to come into the world, though.”

  Sapphire snorted, disentangling a purple dragon from her hair. “At least they didn’t decide to hatch up in a tree.” She rolled her eyes at Jae. “That’s where I found Lotus.”

  That sounded scary even for someone with wings, and Sapphire didn’t have any. And it sounded sad. Jae knew all too well why some newly born babies ended up in scary places. “Did her mother not want her?”

  Sapphire winced, her face full of guilt.

  Fendellen whiffed softly at Sapphire’s blonde hair. “We don’t know. Dragon young are cared for by all, but eggs are usually left safely in the hatching forest.”

  Jae smiled down at her knees and the two tiny dragons curling up there together. Maybe humans needed hatching forests too. “Gran found me on the side of a mountain.” She tipped her head back up and met Sapphire’s eyes. Dragon babies high in trees weren’t any more likely to survive than newborn babes on exposed mountainsides. “I’m glad you found Lotus.”

  Sapphire grinned. “The first time she barrel rolls through the village and lands you headfirst in a water trough, remember you said that.”

  The others laughed, but it was rueful enough that obviously such things had been known to happen. Jae shifted a little, making her lap more comfortable for the two who had chosen to nap there. Then she picked the leather lacing back up to continue her knotting.

  Irin glanced at the small project. “You’re used to having busy hands.”

  Always. She’d heard tales of idle hands in the lowlands, but no one from a high mountain village truly believed them, and healers were kept busier than most. “There were always clothes to mend or medicines to make or leather to soften.”

  He nodded approvingly.

  “You sew as well as Alonia does.” Sapphire sounded impressed.

  Jae hid a smile. Sapphire’s sewing skills weren’t much better than a little’s. “The high mountains are hard on clothes, and if I wanted any to wear, I had to rework Mellie’s cast-offs.”

  Kellan raised a silent eyebrow in question.

  “She was Gran’s other apprentice.” Jae smiled and hoped her words didn’t sound too sad. “She has a little boy. He wasn’t old enough to be scared of me yet. I spent time with him most afternoons.” Soaking in the easy acceptance. Readying for the day when he would look at her with careful eyes.

  From the look in Kellan’s eyes, she’d clearly picked up on the sadness. “Did you have wings when your gran found you?”

  Jae nodded and looked down at the two sleeping littles in her lap. “Yes, but small creatures are always sweet, no matter how scary they might be when they grow up.”

  “Indeed,” Fendellen said dryly, shooting a glance at Kis.

  Jae was pretty sure she would find both Irin and Kis frightening under other circumstances, but clearly, they didn’t feel the same way about her. The women of the village had let Jae tend to their babies, but most of them only under Gran’s watchful eye. There were eyes watching here, but they felt different. Felt like, just maybe, they saw her, and not just the strange appendages she had been born with.

  It was terrifying to hope, but as she watched a yellow belly rise and fall in her lap, she wanted very much to believe that this place might have enough room for a girl with feathers and a dragon with a squished head to spread their wings.

  Chapter 11

  Jae gulped. She had walked the whole way to the kitchen with her feathers showing. All of them. Alonia had helped her alter the shoulders and neck of her cloak to fit snugly, but not hamper her wings. Which had seemed daring enough in the safe confines of her rondo. Out here, the courage required for each step had nearly stolen her breath.

  She reached for the door of the much larger rondo where most of the cooking happened. Perhaps she could hide a while and make herself useful.

  A face popped out the door before she could head inside. “Hullo. You must be Jae.” The older woman eyed her up and down like she might be for sale on the next market day. “You look level-headed enough.”

  Jae nodded, a little dazed. This could only be Inga, and if the stories she’d heard so far were true, this was Inga at her most cheerful.

  The other woman nodded briskly. “There’s snow up on the roof. I was waiting for Afran to come take care of it, but word is, he’s too busy this morning to deal with minor matters.” Her tone said precisely what she thought about this being considered a minor matter. She stepped farther out the door and held out a stiff broom. “This ought to do the trick. Send the snow down the back, if you please, and not onto my kitchen herbs.”

  Jae blinked, and
then blinked again because the first time hadn’t improved her comprehension any. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you want me to do.”

  Inga gave her a look that said she had precious little tolerance for addleheaded helpers. “I want you to fly up and knock the snow off the roof. It sits on the flat part at the top, and then the fire warms it during the day and it freezes back up overnight. I get holes in my roof that way, and you get bits of roof in your bread.” She held out the broom again, twitching it upward. “Go on then. It won’t take you but a minute, and I bet you’re a lot more useful with a broom than any dragon.”

  Jae stared at the broom. And then at Inga. And then up at the roof, which sure enough did have an island of snow sitting on the flattest part of the dome. It was the reason mountain huts had steeply pitched roofs, but those would have to be awfully high to fit dragons.

  Slowly, feeling caught in an avalanche and unable to move fast enough to break free, she took the broom. She shook out her feathers a little, which Inga watched with about as much curiosity as a rising loaf of bread.

  No one here had looked at her with fear in their eyes.

  Jae took a deep breath and flapped just hard enough to lift her feet off the ground. Inga’s eyes widened a little, but she flicked her fingers impatiently. “Go, youngling. I’ve soup to tend, and then I need my broom back.”

  Something almost like a giggle tried to sneak out, but Jae swallowed it back. She lifted farther off the ground, at an angle so she didn’t flap air at Inga’s dress and hair. When she reached the height of the snowpack, she looked around, orienting herself. It wouldn’t do to send snow onto the garden, or onto Inga’s head, either. She picked a direction that seemed equipped for a small influx of snow and swept the broom gingerly.

  A snort from below had her nearly dropping it.

  Karis shook her head, a hand shading her eyes. “You’ll want something different than a broom, I’m thinking.”

  Inga glared at her. “The dragons manage with a broom.”

  “The dragons have claws to break things up.” Karis looked roofward again. “Afran says that what’s up there is more ice than snow.”

  Jae could see that with her own eyes now. Her cheeks flushed. Even a small child from the high mountains would know better than to try to sweep an ice pack. She turned the broom over. It had a good, sturdy handle. She studied the drift lines in the compacted snow and the gentle sloping of the roof. Then she drilled the handle into the snow. Once, twice, and on the third time, a large chunk broke off and headed for the ground.

  “There.” Inga sounded pleased. “A broom will work just fine. And a youngling with some common sense is a welcome addition to this village.”

  “Indeed she is.” Karis sounded like she was trying very hard not to laugh.

  “Bring my broom back when you’re finished.” Inga nodded crisply and disappeared from sight.

  Jae stared down at Karis, bemused and bewildered. Chores were nothing new, and she was happy to do them, but Inga was acting for all the world like a human with wings was handy and nothing more.

  Footsteps sounded in the crunchy snow, and a woman she didn’t know came around the corner, dusting off her shoulders and cursing imaginatively. She glanced at Karis and then up at the roof.

  Jae froze.

  The woman’s face brightened. “Well now, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? I don’t suppose you might have a moment when you’re done with that? I’m Ana, wagon master for the village. I’ve got a sled we’re trying to dig out of a snowbank, and I need a good angle on a rope. We’ve got a boulder to wrap around, but someone with wings and hands would surely be useful. Claws aren’t much good for tying knots in ropes.”

  Somehow, Jae managed to get her mouth closed. She nodded, at a loss for words, and held up her broom.

  Ana nodded cheerfully. “When you’re done with that, then. I’ll go see if I can get some warm cider for the both of us while I wait.”

  Jae watched, dazed, as Ana disappeared through the door into the kitchen.

  Karis chuckled. “I suspect people will find enough good uses for someone with wings and hands that you might need to make it clear that you still need to eat and sleep.”

  She didn’t mind hard work. It was the idea that her wings were useful that was draining all the sense from Jae’s head. She shook it to kick the cobwebs loose and thunked the broom end into the snow again. A variation of a chore she’d done so many times that it didn’t bear thinking about—but always, her wings had been hidden. Bound.

  She stretched them a little farther under the weak winter sun.

  She was flying. In daylight. Where people could see.

  More crunching footsteps down below, these ones fast. Jae looked down, startled to see Irin charging away from the nursery.

  Karis spun around and nearly got her head clipped by a tiny purple flying menace—a purple menace wobbling like the last man leaving the pub on midwinter’s night.

  Jae didn’t remember her first flights, but Gran had stories, ones that involved big lumps on the head of a small girl. She pulled in her wings enough to maneuver easily and eased her way toward Squirt. The baby dragon was climbing, which made sense—it was the easiest direction to go when you had no idea how your wings worked. Unfortunately, it had also put her out of reach of the two people on the ground.

  Irin nodded his head sharply. “She’s never done this before. The dragons are coming, but whatever safety you can provide…”

  That was all Jae needed to hear.

  ::We’re on our way, sweet one.:: Fendellen sounded worried. ::The air currents in the village can be tricky.::

  Especially in winter. Heat and cold. Nothing to faze a larger, heavier flier, but Squirt was so very tiny. Jae did her best to hover between Squirt and the ground, not at all sure she could catch the baby dragon if she fell.

  The small flier flapped mightily, making up in determination what she lacked in wing span and coordination. And then a rogue updraft caught her, spinning her nearly around.

  Jae scooted in closer, heart in her throat, ready to try plucking a baby dragon out of the sky and taking her to safety.

  Until she looked into two dark eyes. Ones that held no fear, no caution. Only pure, exhilarated joy.

  It wasn’t in Jae to take that away. She had lived her whole life steeped in fear and caution, and she would not be the one who taught Squirt the harder ways of the world. She flipped over onto her back, just like she had done with Fendellen, carefully adjusting her own flight until she was belly to belly with the small dragon, less than two hands of space between them.

  Squirt’s eyes beamed surprise and delight. Her little wings stretched out, riding the calmer air.

  ::We’re here.::

  Jae felt the small drafts as an ice-blue dragon came alongside them, and then, with barely a shifting in the air at all, Afran’s enormous presence on the other side. His enormous dark eye watched her calmly. ::We will make sure you don’t run into any trees.::

  She blinked. ::We should keep flying?::

  Fendellen’s laughter bubbled in her head. ::She’s safe now, and we would no more dim her joy than you would.::

  The small purple head turned gingerly, eyeing the dragons on either side of her. Then she raised her head proudly and flapped fiercely. Moving faster. Climbing.

  ::Younglings.:: Afran sounded amused. ::Challenging us to a race already, she is.::

  ::She’ll learn soon enough that you’re a lot faster than you look.::

  That didn’t surprise Jae at all. She could tell just how skilled a flier he was by how little he disturbed the air with his bulk. Jae realized he was doing more than just flying steady—he was also blocking the troublesome currents, keeping the air flows under her smooth just as she was doing for Squirt. She angled slightly, taking better advantage of the flows he made.

  ::Do you tire?:: Fendellen sounded worried again.

  Jae looked at Squirt’s excited eyes. ::No.::

  A fond chuckle.
::Liar.::

  Jae felt her cheeks warm. ::It’s a little awkward to fly this way, but nothing I can’t do for a while longer. She’ll tire soon enough.::

  ::Indeed.:: Afran’s voice was wry. ::She shouldn’t be in the sky for months yet. Irin will be fit to be tied.::

  ::Not much escapes his nursery.:: Fendellen’s tones were fond. ::It’s good to keep him on his toes.::

  ::It is good you were there.:: Afran’s words felt solid in Jae’s head. Meaningful. ::She could have fallen in those first flaps of her wings, and littles aren’t as unbreakable as they believe themselves to be.::

  The sincerity in his words made her eyes water. Simple thanks. Gratitude for the human who could fly.

  ::She tires.:: Fendellen tipped her head Squirt’s way and did something that eased Jae’s flight even more. ::I’ll hold the center while you turn around me. Afran will make sure the big, bad winter wind doesn’t toss anyone from the sky.::

  They turned, the two dragons doing most of the work. Jae did little more than float on the lake of air they pushed beneath her wings. She shifted her position a little so the small purple flier caught more updraft as well.

  ::You sense the air with much skill.:: Afran sounded impressed. ::There are dragons that would do well to learn from you.::

  Jae blinked, not sure how to respond.

  ::Feel proud, youngling.:: Fendellen’s words came with softness and a hint of pride. ::He doesn’t hand out compliments often, and never when they’re not deserved. You will give me a challenge in the skies, I think.::

  Jae’s cheeks warmed again. She would never challenge a dragon on anything.

  ::You will need to learn how.:: Afran this time, sounding calm as he flew the outer edge of their gentle turn back toward the village. ::I imagine Irin will recruit you for nursery duties, given that this one has taken to her wings so early.::