A man stands at the helm. He wears a great coat and a tricorn hat. As the ship passes, he turns to us, and I gasp when I seeonly a bone-white skull under his hat. He touches the rim in a respectful salute to Sigurd, and Sigurd inclines his head gravely.
The ship slows slightly, and Sigurd calls, “Safe travels and may the wind be always at your back.”
“Thankee, dragon,” the captain calls. “May the fire in your belly stay ever warm.”
He nods at me, and his eyes gleam like black jewels in his skull. The ship seems to gather itself before surging forward. It disappears around the corner of the rocks, and I hear a last snatch of men laughing and the lonely fiddle, and then the night falls silent again.
I turn in Sigurd’s arms. “That wasamazing,” I breathe, and his smile is wide and very white in the moonlight. A gust of wind catches us, blowing my hair back and making me stagger until Sigurd catches me.
“The wind is strong tonight,” he says, staring into the sky with the same yearning expression I saw on his face this morning. He hesitates and then looks down at me. “Let us fly.”
I gulp. “Pardon? Do you mean actuallyfly?”
He nods.
“But I can’t do that,” I say. “I didn’t come equipped with my own set of wings.”
He throws his head back, laughing, his hair cascading over his shoulders. “ButIcan help you fly with my set of wings,” he says.
“You want me to ride you?” I check. “In a non-sexual sense, of course.”
“Well, in both senses, always.” His voice is full of that warm humour and excitement that seems such an integral part of his character. “But not at the same time,” he finishes gravely. “It might set my balance out.”
I smack him, laughing, and he takes my hand. “What do you say, Cary? You can ride on my back.”
“Really?” Excitement fills me, but I hesitate. “But what if I fall off?”
He cups my shoulders, and his face is suddenly grave. “You could never fall from me, Cary. I would never let that happen, but it is impossible anyway.”
“Why?”
He smiles. “So you wish to do this?”
He does this a lot—if he doesn’t want to answer a question, he diverts the conversation. It’s very charming, but I don’t get my answers. I mentally shrug. I’m not entitled to all his answers, much as I would like to look inside him and know him fully.
“I would love to.”
His excitement and joy are heady, and he smiles widely. “Then stand to one side where I positioned you earlier, Cary.” He takes off his watch and hands it to me. “Keep that safe while I change forms.”
I look down at the watch. It looks very old with a gold face that echoes the colour of Sigurd’s eyes. “This is a Rolex.”
“Eh?”
I brandish the watch at him. “Is this an original Rolex?”
“Yes, I met one of the makers in London many years ago. He was a good salesman.”
It must be worth a bloody fortune. I look at the simple rainbow canvas strap and repress a smile. It’s so very Sigurd. The original strap must have broken, and he replaced it with the first thing he found. I fasten it onto my wrist. “Of course I will.”
I stand back and watch as the heat shimmer flows over him, the tattoos moving. Within seconds, the dragon stands before me. I wait until he inclines his great head, and then I drift closer, fascinated.
“You know, you are extraordinarily beautiful,” I say softly. “In both dragon and human form.”
I can feel his pleasure as if it’s my own.Thank you, his voice says in my head.
His dragon voice is different from his human one—deeper and almost growly, but his warmth comes through loud and clear. He lowers himself to the patio.Climb onto my back, Cary.
I hesitate, and then, putting my hand on him, I put one foot on his leg and then boost myself onto his back. I straddle him cautiously. His back is broad, the scales smooth and warm. “Will I slide off?” I ask, and his head shakes slowly.
