Dragon Scales

by Sasha L. Miller

  "You're not supposed to be here, flit," Isaia said when he got close enough.

  "You aren't my mother," Amantea replied. It was weak, but it was the best he had. "Who does he have?"

  "What?" Isaia asked, lifting a hand for Amantea to land on. Amantea eschewed it, not wanting to get caged up in Isaia's hands again, and instead went to land on his shoulder. That way, he wouldn't have to shout to be heard.

  Isaia tensed when Amantea landed on him, but his shoulders were nice and broad and steady, so Amantea had no trouble finding a perch. He kept an eye on the back door, but Naldo made no signs of reappearing. "He said he had someone of yours."

  "How long were you there?" Isaia asked, staring straight forward. At the back door of the cottage.

  Amantea didn't answer that, repeating his question. "Who is she?"

  "It's not any of your business, flit," Isaia said, but he sounded tired, not angry, that Amantea was asking. "I'll get Naldo to lay off your nest. Just go back there and you'll be fine."

  Amantea bristled and stomped his foot on Isaia's shoulder. "I'm not a flit. Stop calling me that. I'm not useless, and I'm not going away until I know it's safe. I—"

  The back door opened, and Amantea jumped off Isaia's shoulder, carefully hiding behind Isaia as he flew down to the ground. Hopefully Naldo hadn't seen him, though Amantea didn't suppose it mattered if he did. Amantea didn't have anything to hide. Peeking around Isaia's calf, Amantea stared at Naldo. He looked worse: paler, and there was a sallowness to his face that Amantea hadn't noticed before.

  "Where were we?" Naldo asked. Before Isaia could answer, however, Naldo threw up a hand, smiled, and said, "Oh right, the part where I activate the trap." Magic flared, bright blue arcs of energy crackling up from seven points around where Isaia—and Amantea—stood. "It's dragon-proof. I mean, you're welcome to try and break it, but—"

  Isaia growled, throwing out a hand. He said something rapidly that Amantea didn't quite catch, and a pulsing yellow orb of energy materialized and careened toward the cage. Amantea blinked rapidly as it shattered into a thousand bright sparks—and then the cage retaliated, snapping a sharp electric crack toward Isaia. It coursed through him and jumped to Amantea. It felt like Amantea had been struck by lightning. Everything hurt, sharp and white, and he couldn't breathe through the pain... and then it was gone, replaced by Naldo's laughter.

  Amantea sat up slowly, shaking his head. His arms and legs felt like liquid, and it hurt to take a deep breath, but he seemed whole. Isaia was panting softly, on his knees in front of Amantea.

  "There's a rebound effect in place," Naldo said. Isaia hissed. "I can trigger it whenever I want, as well. Will you give me the scales now? Or should I go get your sister and put her in a similar cage?"

  "Never," Isaia spat. He didn't even look at Amantea, and Amantea tried not to let that hurt. Isaia didn't owe him anything. Naldo stepped up to the cage, reaching out toward it, and Amantea knew what was coming. Standing, he stumbled the few steps over to where Isaia knelt. He put one hand on Isaia's foot and shut his eyes, activating a portal and hoping, praying, that they weren't about to end up at the bottom of the ocean or in the middle of a volcano.

  The portal magic washed over him, soft and reassuring, whisking them away from Naldo's backyard. A short second later, they settled on firm ground, the portal closing behind them. Amantea took a deep breath, ignoring the sharp ache that earned him. They were in a field of tall grass, but that was all Amantea could tell from his position on the ground. Isaia spluttered, standing, but Amantea only slumped down, his head starting to throb. Unanchored portals hurt, one of the many reasons they were a poor idea. On top of the shock from the cage, he wanted to curl up in his nest and sleep for a week.

  "Where are we?" Isaia asked. Amantea didn't answer. He didn't have an answer. "Shift, flit. I'm not talking to a dragonfly."

  "Fuck you," Amantea muttered, pressing his hands to his temples. He didn't know if Isaia heard him or not, but in the next second, the dragon was looming over him. Amantea didn't look up, too tired and hurting to put up any resistance when Isaia picked him up.

  "I told you to stay in the house," Isaia said, lifting him so that Amantea could see the scowl on his face.

  "Fuck off," Amantea said. His head gave a vicious throb, and he curled forward, burying his face in his hands. It was probably a bad idea to show weakness in front of Isaia, but he couldn't help it. It hurt, worse than the only other time he'd ported without anchors to bring him to a specific place. Granted, he had only done it once, and he hadn't been zapped by magic beforehand.

  Isaia let out a sigh, long and drawn out, and then began walking. He brought his hand in close to his chest, and Amantea didn't question it, just curled up in Isaia's palm and tried not to focus on how every step jarred his head and the ache in his chest. At some point, despite the pain and unpleasant movement, he dozed off.

  It was dark when he woke. His head felt like he'd spent the previous night drinking elinflower elixir, but he was warm and comfortable otherwise. A fire crackled nearby, and he could hear the soft sounds of nightbugs flying overhead. Yawning, his stomach rumbling a complaint that he hadn't eaten in… ages… Amantea shuffled around until he was sitting up.

  He'd been asleep in a pile of silk. It had been piled and looped and tucked to make a cozy little depression for him to sleep in. Amantea blinked, then glanced around. Isaia was in dragon form on the other side of the fire. He seemed to be asleep, if the soft, purring snores were any indication. The noise was cute, but Amantea valued his life so he'd probably keep that to himself. They were beneath the shelter of some tree branches, but that was all Amantea could tell about their surroundings in his smaller form and given how dark it was.

  Amantea stretched his wings experimentally. They seemed fine, thankfully. The ache in his chest was gone, and his arms and legs no longer felt like jelly. His head still hurt, but it was a much-dulled ache compared to earlier, after he'd ported Isaia and himself out of Naldo's trap.

  Further investigation of the little silk nest turned up a small pile of berries and nuts. Nothing Amantea recognized, but they smelled right, so he started eating slowly. He didn't try to think about all the problems he had. He was safe and, discounting the headache, whole. He could port them... somewhere in the morning, and figure things out then.

  Amantea watched Isaia curiously as he ate, finally noticing that Isaia wasn't in the dragon form he'd been in when Amantea had caught him in the jar. He definitely had wings folded against his side, and Amantea could just see the shadows of three horns jutting from Isaia's head.

  How many forms did dragons have? Three? Or could they shift to as many forms as they liked? Would Isaia tell him if he asked? Amantea finished his fruit, licking his fingers clean. Sighing in contentment, he nestled back into the silk nest and dozed back off, thoughts of handsome red dragons chasing him into dreams.

  Isaia's movements woke Amantea next, and a quick glance proved it was after dawn. Stretching, Amantea sat up and stared at Isaia. He was huge; he seemed bigger than he had in his other dragon form. Amantea was certain that wasn't simply because of his own smaller size. Isaia flexed his wings, stretching out the huge, long, leathery appendages before tucking them close.

  Then he started to shift. It was a slow process and looked laborious as bits shifted and compressed and folded. Amantea was triply glad that his shifting was so much quicker. Finally, Isaia was in his extremely naked, smaller form again, and it suddenly occurred to Amantea where the silk nest he'd been sleeping in had come from.

  Scrambling out of it, Amantea shifted to his larger form. It would be easier to talk to Isaia that way, plus he'd have to be larger-sized to set up the portal to wherever they decided to go. Once the shift was done, Amantea unwrapped the shirt tied around his arm and pulled it on. He'd lost his cap at some point, and he tried to flatten the mess of his hair with his fingers, but he was fairly certain he only succeeded at making it worse.

  Isaia approached, retrieving
his scarf, and Amantea stared resolutely at the nearby trees as he tied it in place around his hips. "Are you better, flit?"

  Amantea bristled, shooting Isaia a dark look. He wasn't a flit.

  "Amantea," Isaia said, and Amantea wanted him to go back to calling him a flit. Something about the way Isaia said his name was unsettling.

  "I'm fine," Amantea said. He hesitated, peeking at Isaia. "Are you?"

  Isaia nodded. "Where are we?"

  "I don't know," Amantea said. His head throbbed, as though suddenly reminded that Amantea had done portal magic without an anchor. He gave up standing, sitting down on a patch of dirt near the burnt-out fire. "But I can port us..." Amantea waved a hand to signify 'anywhere'.

  "Can you port me back to Naldo's home and port you home?" Isaia asked. He didn't sit, and Amantea glared at him. Apparently Isaia didn't understand that Amantea wasn't going to go home.

  "What does Naldo want dragon scales for?" Amantea asked, countering Isaia's question with a more important question.

  "I don't know," Isaia said. He scowled, but the expression slipped away almost immediately. "For nothing good, I'm sure. There are plenty of spells he could cast on me with them."

  "Is that why he won't take them from your sister?" Amantea asked. "Because he needs yours, specifically?"

  Isaia nodded. "It's a personal squabble. I'm sorry you were involved, but I will make sure he leaves your nest alone."

  "And I'll be there to confirm that," Amantea said firmly. He smiled sweetly at Isaia. He held the cards here; without him, Isaia was stuck in an unfamiliar place until he managed to find someone to tell him how to get home. Even then, there was every chance that they were days or weeks or months from home.

  "No," Isaia said. "It's too dangerous. You were already hurt—"

  "Because you locked me up and ruined my plan—"

  "Was it as good a plan as trapping me?" Isaia's eyebrows rose, and Amantea wanted to hit him.

  "Fuck you, you weren't supposed to break free—"

  "You're too young, and I don't need Naldo having more leverage against me," Isaia said. He was looming over Amantea, but Amantea ignored that. He wasn't stupid. If Isaia wanted to get to Naldo, he'd need Amantea's porting magic.

  "You don't know where he's keeping your sister?" Amantea asked, though if Isaia did know, he would have rescued her, wouldn't he have? If they could find her, that would let them take Naldo out without any loose ends.

  "No." Isaia grit his teeth. "Whatever you're thinking, no."

  "You don't know anything about where she is?" If he had even one landmark and maybe something of hers to cement the link, there was the chance he could make a portal to where she was. He'd never done it before, but some of the older faeries in his nest had, and it shouldn't be too different from a normal portal.

  "He said she was near that lake," Isaia ground out. "Why?"

  "Do you have something of hers?"

  "At my home. Why?" Isaia looked to be running out of patience, but Amantea persisted. If Isaia was allowed to be infuriating to him, he was allowed to return the favor.

  "I don't know if it would work," Amantea said. "But I might be able to make a portal to where she is."

  Isaia stared at him, his expression not changing, which... wasn't the reaction Amantea had hoped for. "You can do that."

  "Maybe? I've never ported on so little, but in theory—"

  "What if it doesn't work? Do we end up nowhere again?" Isaia demanded, jerking his arm around to point to their surroundings.

  "No," Amantea said quietly. "It just doesn't work. We go nowhere."

  Isaia narrowed his eyes. "And what do you want for it?"

  "What?" Amantea gaped. "Nothing! No, wait." Amantea stood up. He was still shorter than Isaia, but it was less distance to stare up at him from. "I want you to take me seriously and let me help you stop Naldo."

  Isaia stared at him, then nodded. "Done. Thank you." He shifted, looking uncomfortable. Was that the first time he'd ever thanked someone?

  "It might not work," Amantea said, suddenly nervous. He wiped his palms on the front of his trousers. What if it didn't work? Would Isaia dismiss him completely?

  "We'll see. You need something of hers?" Isaia asked. "We'll need to go to my home for that."

  "I'll set up a portal," Amantea said. He turned to scout for something to use. They were at the edge of a field, near a forest... maybe he'd be able to find some mushrooms—

  "How do you know where my home is?" Isaia demanded, grabbing Amantea's arm and pulling him around.

  Amantea tried to shake his grip off, but Isaia held fast. He was probably leaving more bruises, and Amantea glared at him. "I was there! You locked me in, or do you not remember?"

  "Oh," Isaia said softly, releasing Amantea's arm. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. "That's not my home."

  Amantea rubbed the sore spot on his arm, frowning. True, there hadn't been a horde, and he thought he remembered Isaia saying something about it not being his home, but how was he supposed to know that hadn't been what Isaia meant? "I can't port us there. I haven't been."

  "Then how will you get to my sister?" Isaia asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. He puffed up angrily, and Amantea thumped his chest before he could think about what a bad idea that was.

  "I've been all over the lake shore!" Amantea snapped. "Where do you want me to take us?"

  Isaia stared at him, his mouth slightly open. He shook his head after a second, but offered no apology. Amantea was going to dunk him in the damn lake. Maybe that would put some sense into the stubborn fool's head. Isaia's brow furrowed, making his nose wrinkle as he thought. It was cute, and Amantea hastily shoved that thought away. Isaia was frustrating and obnoxious and annoying, not cute.

  Isaia's face abruptly brightened. "The house will work. I think I may have a broach of hers, something our mother gave her, a flower."

  Amantea jerked guiltily, remembering the broach he'd pocketed. He slipped his fingers into his pocket, and, sure enough, there it was. Amantea sighed and pulled it out. He cringed, holding it out. "This?"

  "Yes, that," Isaia said. He was, of all things, smiling. "What else did you loot from my house, magpie?"

  "Nothing," Amantea said, biting his lip. Why wasn't Isaia mad at him? "I meant to put it back."

  "Sure," Isaia said. He took the broach, turning it over in his hand. "So this means you can port us there from here, yes?"

  "Right," Amantea said. He shifted, looking away from Isaia's face. Something about the way Isaia was smiling unsettled him, and he focused his attention on the more pressing matter: finding things to port with. "Um, I'll need fruits or mushrooms or large nuts, something to build the circle."

  "All right," Isaia said. He handed Amantea the broach. "I'll head that way," he pointed off toward where the sun was rising, "and you head that way."

  Amantea nodded, tucking the broach back into his pocket. He headed off in the direction Isaia indicated immediately. The sooner this was done, the sooner they could take care of Naldo, and the sooner Amantea could return to his nest and forget all about Isaia.

  It took three hours to find enough mushrooms and nuts to make a circle strong enough for what Amantea was going to attempt. He might have been overdoing it; most circles only required a dozen mushrooms or whatever to anchor the portal. He'd insisted on three times that for this portal. The more anchor points, the better.

  Isaia watched silently as Amantea arranged the mix of mushrooms and nuts, then went to each one and carefully threaded it with magic. He focused on the lake and on the broach, hoping fervently with each bit he casted that he was doing it right and he wasn't about to disappoint Isaia.

  Once the circle was complete, Amantea stepped inside. He waved his hand at Isaia, who gingerly stepped into the circle like it might instantly send him to the other side of the world. Though, given the last time he'd been in one of Amantea's circles, he'd ended up in a pocket world in a jar...

  "Um, hold this," Aman
tea said, shoving the broach at Isaia. "And think of your sister."

  "That's it?" Isaia curled his fingers around the broach, frowning at Amantea. He didn't seem upset, though, and Amantea just nodded. He took a deep breath, and then thought the better of Isaia holding the broach.

  "No, we should both hold it," Amantea said, the words tumbling out in a flustered rush. Isaia raised his eyebrows, but held out his hand, palm up, the broach resting in his huge palm. Amantea gingerly rested his hand on top, and then, before he could overthink the fact that they were almost holding hands, he activated the portal.

  Porting was always as quick for Amantea as shifting; one second he was in the portal and the next he was at the anchor point. In a breath, the shock of cold, heavy water replaced the air around him and the ground beneath his feet. Amantea sucked in a shocked breath, but there was no air, only water, and he didn't know how to swim. He choked, coughing, flailing, but there was nothing but water all around him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Amantea thrashed, panic setting in. It was too dark to see, which meant he'd put them at the bottom of the lake. Or the bottom of an ocean. His chest burned, seared, his lungs seizing with water—

  Something grabbed him, and Amantea stilled out of shock. Isaia? It had to be, and Amantea wanted to yell at him to get to safety, to leave Amantea to drown like the worthless flit he had turned out to be. He didn't have the air or the energy, though, and he shuddered, fighting against the urge to breathe and cough.

  Amantea barely registered when there was suddenly solid ground beneath his feet. It didn't matter. There was still water everywhere—and in the next second there wasn't, and Amantea was coughing and coughing, trying to breathe and expel the water in his lungs at the same time. He shivered hard, pressing close to the warmth Isaia offered. He'd probably be mortified later, but he didn't care right then.

  It took him several minutes to calm down and stop coughing, but Isaia didn't let him go the whole time, his arms wrapped securely around Amantea. It was a good thing, Amantea thought fuzzily, because he wasn't entirely sure he could stand on his own.