The Dragon Book (63 page)

I halted briefly and took a deep, deep breath, then blew it into my cupped forepaw. I spun it around, blowing steadily, until I had a tornado as tall as I was. I drove it with my will, sending it over the unmistakable drag mark I’d left in my wake. Back and forth I swept it, then around and around, until the dirt no longer showed the trace of my sack. I kept the tornado with me as I trudged across the open ground. It swept over my trail, whisking my marks to nothing, until I crested a small rise in the ground and went down the far side. Once I was out of view of the road, I released my spinning winds. They scattered into the open air.

I collapsed onto the ground, letting go of my camouflage briefly to rest. How could Daine and Numair do more than two pieces of magic at the same time? I was worn-out only by two, and by the effort of dragging my burden.

I hated being young. And I would be young so much longer than a human child.

I had to get up. There was too much risk of a human stumbling over me. The Carthaki sun was also a hammer on my scales. I rose, wove my camouflage spell again, and began to drag the sack toward the rocks.

I had gone scarcely a hundred yards, and had reached the point of telling myself that I was a poor excuse for a dragon, when a horse called to me. I turned to look. Spots was on my trail, his tether in his mouth. I released my camouflage, let go of the sack, and trilled a welcome. I was so happy to see him!

He trotted to me.
I followed your scent
. His slow, practical voice sounded amused in my mind.
I knew you would have found a way to get into trouble by now. Let go of that bag
. I did as I was bid, with relief. He gripped the neck of the sack and picked it up. It had been big for me. To Spots, it wasn’t as nearly heavy as one of Numair’s book-stuffed saddlebags, which he had also carried in this way.
Why did you find something to do without bringing me?
Spots asked.
I always manage the heavy work for you.

I hung my head. Then I made a fist, shook it at him, and pointed back at the camp. I still didn’t want to get him into trouble. Then I touched a claw tip to my chest and pointed to the walled village.

Yes, that is a great deal of walking for a small dragon,
Spots said. He always understood me.
And I keep telling you,
I
will deal with the humans if they want to make trouble for me. It’s time they learned that not all horses can be bullied.

I saw the warlike look in his eye and shook my head. Spots had been getting some strange ideas lately. I squeaked an apology and took his rein in my paw. He nudged me to let me know that he didn’t mind if I led him. Moving much faster now that I had his help with my burden, I took him to the rocks.

When we touched the strange magic of the first barrier, Spots shied and yanked on the rein. His yank threw me into the air. I came down with a thud. Spots put down the sack and nuzzled me in apology.
I’m sorry,
he told me, guilt in his mind-voice.
I didn’t know there was magic here.
He gripped the sack again.

I showed him two of my claws.

Two magics,
Spots said.
How splendid.

I whistled a shield that covered him nose to tail. I loved him because he let me lead him onward into the magic, through the first barrier. He stood firm while I worked spells to get us through the second barrier. Each time, he calmly went ahead when I chirped. I had not known until that day how much he trusted me.

Once we were through, we hurried to Afra’s cave. I knew the sound of hooves ringing on stone would frighten her, but it was the fastest way to take the sack right to the cave’s mouth. After we left it there, we retreated to a side trail to wait.

What do you have in there?
Spots asked me.

With gestures and poses I explained it was a human female with an infant.

It would be easier to bring Daine or Numair,
Spots reminded me.
Not that you ever choose the easy path. I prefer to leave humans to humans, myself.

I only sniffed at him. Spots always said he liked his life to be boring, but he was always there when I got up to something.

Eventually, the baby began to cry. It cried in loud whoops, then softer ones. I dug my claws into the stone, wishing the noise would stop. Just when I hoped the baby was done, it began to scream. That was when Afra came to take the sack.

She dragged it back into the cave, then called, “Who are you? Why do you help us? If you really wish to be my friend, show yourself!”

Afra didn’t think that last night’s monster was the one who left food for her today. Yet why demand to see me? What good could it do? I looked up at Spots. He shrugged his withers, a human gesture he’d learned. He didn’t know, either.

I didn’t want to chatter or make friends. That baby needed its mother’s milk, and the best way for its mother to make milk was for her to eat food, and to
drink
milk. That meant I still needed to steal a goat. She was wasting my time. I had only waited to be sure she took the sack at all.

“I know you are still here,” she cried. “I heard your horse. You are quite close by; I listened to the hoofbeats.”

Kraken spit, I thought.

Spots put his muzzle at the center of my back and pushed.
Do as she asks. We did not raise you to be rude.

It was an easy thing for him to say. She had not hit him on the head and called him a monster.

I showed him my fist, meaning this would not go well. He nudged me again until I fell onto all four legs. I glared up at him.

I mean it, Kitten,
Spots told me.
Go.
He shoved my rump forward, nearly driving my muzzle into the dirt.

I ran as much away from him as toward the cave. The stubborn beast followed. He was determined that Afra should see me. Once he took up for someone, there was nothing he would not do for them. That included ordering me about.

Afra saw Spots first because he was taller. Her quick eyes took in his lack of a saddle or rider, and his knotted tether. Then she saw me.

“You again!” she cried. She flung her hand out. A twining flare of magic, mixed pale blue and pale green ropes that would burn an ordinary mortal to the ground, sped from her fingers.

Afra’s spell washed over me. It stung, a little. Then it flowed up, meeting the magical barrier overhead in bursts of gold sparkles. I wanted to grip some, but Afra was not done with me.

Brighter two-colored fires lashed from her hand. I could feel their strength—if they hit me, they would hurt. I raised a shield of my own power that would cover Spots and me. Her Gift splashed against it and was sucked into the magic overhead. It blazed gold.

The earth quivered, an anxious horse about to break free of all control.
Uh-oh,
Spots said.
Did you feel that?

I looked at Afra. She was intent on working another spell. The earth shook hard, knocking her down. The stones beside the mouth of the cave trembled. If the shake got harder, there was danger to the cave.

Spots and I raced forward together without needing to check with one another. We were old campaigners; we knew what had to be done. The ground rolled. Spots scrambled for footing as small stones fell and hit Afra. Spots lunged and got a mouthful of her robe. I raced past him into the cave. Afra screamed as a large rock fell behind me, half-blocking the cave’s mouth.

For a moment, I could not move. Inside the cave, a welcoming warmth enclosed me. It reminded me of how I felt when Daine held me. I thought I heard a whispering song in a strange language I almost knew. Dazed, I touched the cave wall. It was glassy and warm, an assembly of tiny beads. I wanted to stay there forever.

Then the baby screamed. Somehow I forced myself to break that spell of love and safety to walk deeper into the cave. Another shake inspired me to run, my night vision showing me all the dangers. Afra had a small fire going in the chamber she had turned into her home. I buried that in case falling rock scattered hot embers everywhere. The baby lay beside the fire, swaddled and tucked into a carry-basket. I whistled a lifting spell until I could wriggle my forepaws into the straps. Then, as another shiver rocked the ground under my feet, I began to run, or rather, to slog.

I never expected a small baby and a straw carry-basket to weigh so much. I was frantic to get out before the cave dropped on us, yet I also wanted to stay and be a baby myself, curled up against the mother-spirit in the stone. Each time I stopped to catch my breath, I had to force myself to move on. Fortunately, though I did not think so then, the baby’s screams constantly reminded me to keep going. I could not wait to get it off my back, or sides, wherever it had slipped. By the time we came to the rock that half covered the entrance, the basket hung off of my neck, yanking me sideways.

Eyeing the rock and the opening it had left, I crawled out of the straps. Grabbing them in my forepaws, I backed into the opening, tugging the basket after me. It was half-out when it stuck. I was squealing curses when Afra said, “I am sorry that I called you a monster. Please—let me get him out.”

I slid off the rock with gratitude and let Afra lift her child into the open. My poor forelegs ached. My back muscles complained. I wanted to go back into that comforting cave, which was deadly folly in an earthquake.

Spot came over to nuzzle me. I looked up at my friend and moaned. He pushed me a little harder with his nose.
Don’t complain,
he told me.
You aren’t bleeding.

Afra had her baby out of the carry-basket. She held it, bouncing it as she talked softly. It finally stopped screaming.

The hard ground shakes had also halted, though I could feel the same deep shiver that I had felt yesterday, on the rock over the cave’s mouth.

“We should get to clearer ground,” Afra said. “In case the earthquake returns.”

I nodded.

“There is a place by the spring where I get water. But I cannot leave the food that you brought.” She looked at the opening in the cave entrance, biting her lower lip. Then she placed the baby on the ground beside me. “Watch him, please. If something happens …” She shook her head and ran like a fool to the cave. She wriggled into the opening and was gone.

I squealed in irritation. I could have gone for those things! I looked at Spots, thinking that he could mind the baby.

She asked
you
to watch him,
Spots said.
If you go into the cave with her, she will panic, thinking the baby is alone but for a stupid horse.

I had to do as she had told me since she was beginning to see that I was no monster. I muttered to myself. I knew he was right. He often is.

Spots walked over to the baby and began to nudge him to and fro, rocking him. The baby liked it. He was chuckling, as if a horse rocked him every day. Then he looked at me. I jerked back, thinking he would scream in fear, but he only watched me as he rocked, his eyes big.

Afra returned with my sack. She must have put some of her own things inside, because it was heavier, judging by the way she carried it. She set it down and watched Spots rock her son.

“I don’t suppose you two would hire on as nursemaids?” she asked. “I’ll take Uday now.” She gathered her son up and tucked him into the carry-basket, asking him, “Did you like that, Uday? Did you?” He chuckled for her, too. Carefully, she settled the basket over her shoulders. While she tightened the straps, Spots made faces for Uday. I gave Spots’s foreleg a push, for showing off.

Afra picked up the heavy sack. She looked at me. “It’s not far, the spring. Would your friend mind if I put this on his back? I know it’s slippery with no saddle, but I can hold it there.”

Spots nodded at her.

Afra looked at him, then at me. “What are you?” she asked. Her lips quivered. Her eyes were wet. She turned to hoist the bag onto Spots’s back. I feared for those eggs inside the robe. They seemed to be doomed.

“I do not weep in the ordinary way of things,” Afra said, her voice defensive. “But it has been so hard, with everyone’s hand turned against me. And now you two come—it was you with the food, before?” She looked at me. Her eyes were dry again. I nodded to her. “Why? What are you, and why are you doing these things?”

I made a cradle of my forearms and rocked them.

“The baby, yes,” Afra said.

Then I ran in place and pretended to be throwing rocks at her. I started to walk around as if I followed a maze, looking confused.

She frowned for a moment. Then her face smoothed. “You saw the boys chase me!”

I nodded.

“Well, you’re kindhearted, both of you. Come. The spring’s this way.” She pointed out the path for Spots, soon discovering that if she spoke the directions, there was no need to point. That was just as well because the sack did slide all over his back. She was kept busy just holding it there.

We followed the gully where Spots and I had waited for Afra to take the sack. The path twisted out of view, making a wide curve around the cave’s protecting stone. We entered a small bay where trees grew and a spring bubbled up through the ground to make a pond. One of the three rocky walls of the bay was part of the stone that made the cave, reddish orange and fine-grained instead of rough brown-black. Plants sprouted in the cracks in the walls. Birds fluttered to the tops of the trees as we arrived.

Spots let Afra take the sack from him before he trotted over to the water. He sniffed at it.
Is the water safe?
he asked me.
I suppose it is, if she has been drinking it, but it never hurts to be sure.

I tested it with a drop of my magic. The water gleamed and rippled for a moment, proof that it was very good. Spots dipped his head and began to drink. I, too, was thirsty. I gulped until my belly sloshed.