Dragon Kin: Jae & Fendellen

by Audrey Faye

  “We have everything ready.” A new voice, Karis this time. “In the nursery. It’s a little farther to walk, but there’s more room.”

  Irin nodded, his hands already moving into position beside Eleret’s body.

  Jae could see his intent. They would roll the baby dragon away and then back onto his hands, as if they were a board. She nodded and folded Eleret’s wings, taking extra care with the sore spot. The tiny dragon stirred anyhow.

  Jae knew the wing was the least of their worries. A little of the salve she had brought to Kis would make that right in no time.

  “Her tail.” Fendellen’s breath was hot on her shoulders.

  Kellan squatted beside them. “I can lift it at the same time as you lift her body. I can tuck it into Irin’s arms.”

  The tail still held bones. Flexible ones, but they would connect to the tiny dragon’s neck. Jae shook her head. “I think it’s better if you walk with us. Keep it as level with her body as you can. No bending.” She could see the sharply attentive calm of a very good helper in Kellan’s eyes as her friend nodded. They had the team who would move the baby. Now all they needed was a traveling windbreak.

  ::It’s all ready.:: Fendellen’s ice-blue wings rose behind Irin’s back. ::We have dragons two layers deep blocking the wind from all directions.::

  Jae nodded. Three sets of eyes met. As one unit, they rose to their feet, Irin’s hands supporting most of Eleret’s weight, Kellan and Jae managing wings and tail.

  Two hands landed on Jae’s hips. “Let me guide you.” Karis applied gentle pressure to illustrate her words. “That way, Irin can walk forward, and you don’t need to look.”

  That was a trick Jae hadn’t used before, but it was a smart one for a short distance. Slowly, she took a step, Irin and Kellan mirroring her moves. She kept her strides short and rhythmic, and her eyes on her patient. If Eleret stirred now, it would likely do more harm than good.

  She breathed out as they entered the warm dim of the nursery. Or rather, the warm brightness. Someone had set out many candles around a small bed of straw on the floor.

  Ana stood by the straw. “Would you like a blanket laid down, healer?”

  Another one with sharply attentive calm in her eyes. “Yes, please.” Jae assumed it would be old, clean, and not very precious. This village had survived without an official healer for a long time. They knew what to do.

  A small square of wool whisked out over the straw, Ana smoothing out the wrinkles before she stepped back, well out of their way. The trio holding Eleret moved into position and lowered her carefully, their unison as tight as the mountain rescue teams who practiced such things together every fortnight.

  Kellan let out a soft breath as Eleret settled on the blanket-covered straw. Jae carefully rolled the small body one more time to extract Irin’s hands, and then she had her patient settled in warmth and safety, which was every healer’s first goal.

  Her very still patient.

  A human child still for this long would be very worrisome indeed. Soft bones might not break, but the ones of the head and neck could damage in ways that couldn’t be fixed.

  Irin and Kellan remained close, clearly ready to be helpful if they were needed.

  Some rustling from the direction of the door, and then Alonia and Inga arrived, bearing bowls and plates. Inga nodded crisply. “Warm broth, good for dragons, even the small ones. Bread and cheese and tea for the healers. Some toasted curds, which this little one especially likes.”

  All good things for when Eleret woke up.

  Jae started feeling her way around the small purple head, her fingers seeking more sore spots. Some kind of reason for so much stillness.

  Another stir, and more rustling. This time it wasn’t cooks who approached. It was Rilli and Taenin, the two hatchlings walking very slowly, their gazes glued to their small friend.

  Jae wasn’t sure what to do. Children were rarely allowed near patients, but Gran had made exceptions when they were well behaved and important to the one who was hurt. This seemed to qualify. She reached for Fendellen in her head. ::Can you tell them to be very careful, and only touch her with their noses?::

  ::Already done. Kis and Afran are each minding one. Dragons often lie with those who are hurt. If it won’t get in your way, they would like to do that. Perhaps by her tail.::

  That would work, but it wasn’t Eleret’s tail that was hurt. ::Up by her head, I think. I don’t need much room to work, and it will do her good to sense their breathing.::

  Warm approval from her dragon.

  Jae kept up the movement of her fingers—and then jumped when her patient sneezed. A black nose and a yellow one immediately darted closer.

  Eleret didn’t move again, but her breathing quickened into a rhythm that looked a lot more like sleeping hatchling than senseless one. Jae swallowed. She had no idea what was good and normal, so she would just need to trust her eyes and hands to guide her. Nothing on Eleret’s head seemed to be sore, which was a small miracle.

  She glanced over at Irin. “Can you put some of Kis’s salve on the sore spot on her wing? A good, thick layer, if she can be trusted not to lick it off.” She knew from experience just how hard wings were to bandage.

  Sapphire put the pot in his hands before he could do anything more than nod.

  So many helpers. So many worried eyes watching one small hatchling.

  A small whimper as Irin worked salve over the sprained wing.

  ::Perhaps where it joins her body, too.:: Kis hadn’t taken his eyes off the two dragonets lying quietly at Eleret’s head. ::If she landed on her wing, that will be where the soreness comes tomorrow.::

  Of course. She should have thought of that. Jae nodded, both in remorse and thanks.

  ::You’re doing very well.:: A long pause. ::Many are not so calm when a young one is hurt. You have set a tone they can all follow. You and your dragon both. It is well done.::

  Jae hadn’t even thought about how worried the dragons must be, and most of them wouldn’t be able to fit inside the rondo. She ran her hands over the small, scaled body again. Eleret seemed warm enough, and she already knew that dragons hated covers of any kind.

  ::She doesn’t feel cold.:: Fendellen seemed quite certain of that.

  Jae blinked. It wasn’t the first time her dragon had claimed such intimate knowledge of Eleret’s state, but it was the first time she was able to pay attention. ::How can you feel her so easily?::

  A longer pause. ::It is a bond some dragons have with others. Mine are particularly strong. I can feel the strength of her heart, and her feelings. She hurts some, but I believe that part of her is also still trying to fly.::

  Patients often had strange dreams and hallucinations, but they usually came with fever. Perhaps the room was too warm. Jae reached out to touch Eleret’s head just above her eyebrow ridges. Then she reached for the special one. A healthy dragon of the same age would be a good comparison.

  Rilli held still and proud as Jae felt her forehead, and then the small black dragon did the same.

  Jae exhaled. No fever, unless dragons didn’t show their fevers on their skin.

  ::We do.:: Two words from Kis that carried the weight of mountains.

  She closed her eyes a moment, honoring his hard-won wisdom.

  ::Are there too many of us in your mind?:: Fendellen, speaking quietly.

  Jae shook her head. She was glad to have them there, monitoring her thoughts, looking for something she might have missed.

  ::What is it you do now?:: Her dragon felt closer.

  Jae looked down at her hands, surprised that they were moving. Her fingers stroked small circles on Eleret’s chest, tracing the outlines of her scales. ::I’m not sure.:: It just felt right somehow. Calling the spirit of who the small dragon was to the surface.

  ::We can help with that.:: Fendellen’s words were hushed. ::I can help with that.::

  There would be questions later—but for now, it was enough to have the help. ::Slowly. We want to wak
e her very gently.::

  ::Perhaps the other two can move in closer?:: Her dragon’s eyes swept over the two attentive hatchlings. ::She’s used to waking up with them all nested together..::

  It was a risk, but so was trying to wake Eleret—and so was letting her sleep. Healers rarely faced choices that came with guarantees of safety.

  Jae wiggled her fingers at the two littles, motioning them in closer. They did so with speed and care and dignity, and it swelled her heart to watch them settle so very carefully around their fallen friend. Then she reached her mind for Fendellen—and jumped at what she felt there. More than just her dragon. Others, including some she knew.

  ::Dragons and kin. They all want to help.:: A moment of amusement from Fendellen. ::And Kellan, who somehow seems to be able to break all the rules.::

  Jae didn’t even know what those rules were, but she could feel the strength that had somehow joined Fendellen’s end of the bond. Strength and steadiness. What to do with it was up to a healer and her dragon.

  Jae gulped. She had been a healer before, and sometimes in dire circumstances, but this felt different. Bigger. There was no Gran who could be fetched by a quick runner. No wisdom story that would tell her how to wake a sleeping dragon.

  Only her hands and her heart and what came to her through the bond.

  She bowed her head and settled her hands, one on Eleret’s belly, the other on her head. And began to sing. A song of the mountains, one that began as a lullaby and then grew fiercer. A song of the sun rising to meet the day in a part of the world where the days weren't always gentle and easy.

  Eleret wiggled, and the two on each side of her snuggled in closer, their eyes wide, glued to the singing healer.

  And to the call that came from the dragon at her shoulder. Jae could feel Fendellen’s gentle tugging. A call with no words that spoke of bright skies and healthy wings and littles who had such courage that their bodies could barely contain it.

  Jae let her song dance with what she could feel inside her. A call to body and spirit, and the reverent wishes of everyone inside the rondo and gathered outside it.

  A small yellow head shot up, chittering, a black one right behind it.

  Eleret’s body tensed, a small being ready to hurtle herself into the sky—or astonished to discover she was no longer in it. Jae’s hands firmed. It would not do for her patient to thrash. Not now.

  Eleret’s eyes opened, clearing as she looked at the two small faces jammed next to hers. Dimming with guilt as she surveyed the large circle gathered around her makeshift nest.

  Jae kept her hands where they were. Sometimes, after danger, those who had been most scared got angry.

  ::Brave little healer.:: Kis stuck his nose into the hatchlings, but his words were for her. ::And not needed. No one would dare yell at Irin’s babies.::

  It was Irin she had been worried about.

  ::He’s done all the yelling he has rights to in this lifetime.:: The big gold dragon nuzzled a tiny purple nose very carefully. ::We will talk to Eleret and make sure she understands the gravity of what she’s done. But not today. Today is for being very glad she is still here to fuss over.::

  Jae understood. These weren’t only Irin’s babies. They were Kis’s, and Kellan’s, and Inga’s, and Fendellen’s.

  And now they were a little bit hers too.

  Chapter 17

  Fendellen tucked her tail under her nose and curled up against the wall. Carefully. The nursery was still very full of healing stuffs and extra food and four sleeping elves. Karis had brought blankets for Jae’s friends, who had refused to leave as the young healer worked to restore Eleret to health.

  It was good to see her kin so clearly finding her place in the village. Fendellen cast a fond gaze over the well-wrapped bundle sleeping next to the three dragonets. Jae’s hand rested on Eleret’s tail, and her wings sprawled over the nursery floor in the truest sign of her exhaustion.

  Fendellen stoked the fire in her chest. It wasn’t necessary—Kis kept the nursery warm with no need of any further help, even on the coldest nights. But she would do what little she could to add comfort to Jae’s rest.

  When she woke, Fendellen would need to say the words that would chase all that comfort away.

  She flattened her head a little more onto her tail pillow. Kis had said she would know, and he was right, but here in the quiet of a dark night and her own head, she could wish that her kin hadn’t proven herself quite so worthy, at least not so soon. There was little doubt, however, that she had. Jae’s healing skill had surprised even Irin, who had gracefully stepped back and let a human with wings serve in a role that had been his for as long as Fendellen could remember.

  Healer might never have been one of his official titles, but it had always been one in fact. But the man who rarely deferred to anyone had calmly relegated himself to Jae’s assistant. As had Inga and Kellan, Kis and Afran, and numerous others who never followed anyone who had not earned their respect.

  Jae had led, and a dragon who would one day be queen could not ignore the significance of that any longer. Her kin might have come from a small mountain village, and she might have arrived overwhelmed and afraid, but necessity had called, and Jae had stepped up beautifully.

  She deserved to know all of what called her.

  The wings sprawled on the floor stirred, and Jae’s head popped up. Her eyes cleared rapidly as she looked first at her patient, and then around the rondo.

  Fendellen saw Kis and Irin both note her movement and then ease back into sleep. Warriors and healers, keeping the watch.

  Jae, however, did not go back to sleep. Instead, she stretched out her arms and legs and very carefully unrolled herself from her blanket with the efficient stealth of one who had slept in tight quarters her whole life. She padded over to the table in her bare feet, picked up a cup of water, and crossed to Fendellen’s side. ::Do you need anything?::

  A small fraction of her kin’s courage. Fendellen studied eyes that should have been glazed with exhaustion, but weren’t. ::Sit with me for a while, sweet one. I would have the comfort of your presence.::

  Jae gave her an odd look, but she took a seat on the soft straw and wrapped the wool blanket around her knees.

  Fendellen wished for one of Kellan’s berry tarts. A moment of tasty escape before she flung the two of them into realities far too hard. But it was midwinter, not the season for pastries that tasted of summer sun. ::There are things I must tell you. About who I am, and about who we are together.::

  Jae didn’t move, but Fendellen could feel her quickening attention through the bond. No fear, though. Not yet. Just nerves. And a fledging trust she was so very loath to weight this heavily.

  ::Is this about why you were the one who could call Eleret awake?::

  Her kin did not lack for the ability to see clearly. ::Yes. Some dragons can feel those bonds to other dragons. Afran and Kis both can. It is part of why they are so respected.::

  ::And you.::

  It wasn’t a question. ::Yes. The strongest bonds live in our queens. Elhen. And one day, me.::

  A long, silent pause in which Jae didn’t so much as breathe. There was shock in the kin bond, and a slithering sense of unworthiness that Fendellen would have set on fire if she could. But there was very little surprise.

  Finally, her kin sucked in a hitching breath. ::They follow you. I’ve seen it.::

  If fire could not go after that unworthiness, perhaps words could. ::They follow you too. In the sky, and today as you healed one of our own.::

  Denial, rising hot and swift—and on its heels, a healer’s clear seeing. Commonsense clarity that would not allow Jae to ignore simple facts. She cuddled down into her feathers, a mess of dismay and confusion. ::I’m just an apprentice healer from a small mountain village.::

  Fendellen nuzzled a shoulder clad in ice-blue wool. ::Apprentice healer and kin to a dragon queen.::

  Jae’s entire body shook. ::That isn’t possible.::

  Platitudes wer
e too easy. Fendellen let her chin rest on Jae’s shoulder. ::I feel that way some days too.::

  The shaking eased as Jae’s compassion rose taller than her fear. ::It’s a really big job.::

  The biggest. ::It’s not mine yet. Mostly I get to fly around and cause trouble and keep everyone on their toes.::

  Jae shook her head and rolled her eyes, snorting quietly into the dim. ::That’s like Kis saying he mostly gets to lie around and eat all day.::

  Fendellen winced at the well-landed arrow.

  ::He’s a hero, even when he’s eating stew.:: Slower words. More thoughtful ones. ::It’s with him always. Just like being queen is always with you.::

  ::I will be queen after Elhen passes. Not yet.:: The distinction felt big and important.

  Jae smiled. ::Apprentice queen, then.::

  Fendellen had seen an apprentice step out of those shoes today. She could only hope she would do so well when her turn came. ::Full healer and apprentice queen. We are a good pair.::

  Jae shrugged. ::I would still be an apprentice in my village. It’s only that you have no healer here. Although I think Irin is mostly one, and Kellan could be.::

  Her kin had sharp eyes, and a heart that easily made space for others to step into all of who they were. Both very good qualities in one who was kin to a future queen. She had spent too much time looking at Jae’s fears and not nearly enough time considering her strengths.

  Jae looked over, and her eyes were gentle. Thoughtful. ::They all know, don’t they.::

  It wasn’t a question, but Fendellen nodded anyway. ::I asked them to stay quiet. I wanted you to have a chance to find your place here first. To feel accepted for your hands and your wings and your heart.::

  Jae cuddled her arms around her knees. ::Sometimes hiding is necessary.::

  Perhaps. But always, it caused pain—and Fendellen hadn’t considered that nearly enough either. ::I didn’t trust your strength, and for that, I am sorry.::