“What does that mean?” Paul asked.
Koradan shrugged. “That’s just what we are. You’re a human. That’s a stool.” He pointed to one, set outside one of the houses. “I am a salas.”
“Cool,” Paul said. “So, um… can I come to the mine with you? I’d get to ride on a vreki, right?”
“No, you can’t,” Lynette snapped immediately.
“Why not?” Paul asked.
“Because it’s far too dangerous. Riding a dragon over the mountain? It’s a ridiculous idea.” So now that it was dangerous, they were ‘dragons’ again?
“But I want to meet the vreki. And getting to fly on one would be so cool!”
“Absolutely not,” Lynette said. “I’m not letting my only son ride off into the wilderness with a…” She stopped, unable to come up with an adequate description, even as her eyes met Koradan’s. She’d stopped short of using any of the foul names she’d called them last night, but as he gazed back into her eyes, she was glaring fiery hate at him. In that case, her efforts to be polite had been more effective than he’d realised, as he’d genuinely believed she was feeling tentatively tolerant of him and his men. The truth seemed to be far darker. Either she was placating them out of fear or she was simply happy to use them to get what the villagers wanted without caring about Koradan’s side of the equation.
“How old are you?” Koradan asked Paul. He seemed almost an adult, old enough to be making his own decisions, but perhaps humans aged differently from salases? Could he be younger than he appeared?
“Fifteen,” Paul said. Then he glared at his mother. “Old enough to go to the mines without hanging onto my mother’s hand.”
Privately, Koradan was inclined to agree. At fifteen, most salas boys would have been in training for a year or two already. Even allowing for some cultural differences, it seemed odd that Paul’s mother could simply forbid him from leaving the village.
“I promise you no harm will come to him,” Koradan said to Lynette, feeling his way forward cautiously. “Ashd is a very well trained mount, and-”
“I said no,” Lynette snapped. “You’re not taking my son anywhere.”
“But someone still needs to go and introduce him to the miners,” Paul said.
“Well, that’s an easy problem to fix.” Lynette marched over to the middle of the street, to an area that seemed to function like a small town square. “Attention please,” she shouted, getting the attention of a dozen or so people loitering about in the street. Some of them were tending to legitimate work, while others were finding excuses to hang around and stare at the ‘demons’. Hazel and Best appeared in the doorway of a house, no doubt halfway through preparing breakfast, and several more people came out of their houses to listen.
“Koradan has suggested that he fly over to the mine to assess the damage there,” Lynette announced loudly. “But we fear that the miners might feel threatened and try to attack him. We’d like someone to ride on his dragon with him to introduce him to the miners. Are there any volunteers?”
Around them, the villagers looked stunned. Koradan recognised some of the faces from those who’d taken him up the mountain that morning. There were others who’d boldly introduced themselves off their own backs, along with several more that he hadn’t met yet. But as they looked on now, they seemed almost universally horrified by the idea.
“Sorry, you saidride on a dragon?” Ann said. “I’d sooner hurl my firstborn son into a volcano, thank you very much.”
“I wouldn’t mind going,” Peter said, “but I don’t think these old bones would handle something like that.” Koradan was inclined to agree. The old man could barely stand up. His legs would never be able to straddle the broad back of a vreki.
“Look, it’s one thing to give them food and bandages,” another woman said. “Buttouchingthem? That’s a step too far.” It wasn’t clear whether the ‘them’ she was referring to was the salases or the vreki, but it made little difference. Either way, the villagers’ position was clear. The demons were not welcome here. They were to be tolerated for as short a time as possible, then sent swiftly on their way.
“I volunteer to go,” Paul said, loud enough for everyone to hear him.
“You are not going,” Lynette snapped at him.
“We need to assess the mine and we need someone to go with Koradan,” Paul said. “And no one else wants to go. So I’m going.”
“What you are doing is going right back home and staying there until-”
“I am not a child!” Paul interrupted her. It was clear he was upset, but he was keeping a fairly good handle on his anger at the same time. Koradan was impressed. The ability to control one’s emotions was a fine trait, and was absolutely vital for any serious warrior. “And the miners need to know what’s going on and that we haven’t abandoned them. So I’m going with Koradan.”
Lynette marched forward and grabbed Paul’s hand, apparently intending to drag him back to their house. For a moment, Koradan thought this would be the end of the conversation. He didn’t like the idea of a mother controlling her almost adult son to such a degree, but it wasn’t his place to get involved. He was on shaky enough ground as it was.
But Paul shook his mother off, stepping away from her. “I’m going to the mine with Koradan,” he repeated.
Peter hobbled closer, placing a gentle hand on Lynette’s arm. “I raised three teenagers of my own,” he said to her, his forehead wrinkling in a sympathetic frown. “Sometimes you just have to know which battles you’re not going to win.”
Lynette glared at Paul… but then her gaze swung around to land on Koradan. “If you let my son anywhere near that dragon, I will slit your throat and throw your carcass off the mountain.”
Interesting that she had somehow concluded that winning an argument with Koradan would be easier than winning one with Paul. As much as Koradan didn’t want to make waves when he was desperately trying to negotiate peace with these humans, the strategist in him knew Lynette had just made a serious blunder.
