“Aevrin!” Sathuel Riveker screamed across the field. Aevrin turned fast, heart in his throat, worried he’d find his father pinned down or hurting.
Instead, he saw four thousand pounds of irate mother-cow charging him down. She was huge, a pale brown beast with the nub-horns dominant females sometimes bore, ears pinned back, towering over Aevrin. Ten feet away, the dirt kicked back under her hooves. In a second she’d be on him. With a bellow, a burst of fire shot out of her nostrils, nearly hot enough to singe his eyebrows even at this distance.
Aevrin jumped back and sideways, already knowing it was helpless. His hand fumbled for the crossbow hanging over his back. She was too big, and too close, and humans were flammable even in leathers. He’d lost track of the herd altogether. No chance he could drop her in time.
The best he could hope was to slow her down, then make it over the wall of the calves’ enclosure, a dozen feet behind him, before he was turned totally to charcoal. The cow was almost on him, filling his vision. He got the crossbow free.
He couldn’t get it up and fired before she hit him. He knew it. He still had to try.
A huge gray shape slammed into the side of the cow, so close Aevrin felt the rush of wind. With a roar, Kazeic bowled her over and sank his teeth into her armored neck, piercing her thick plating like it was butter. The cow bellowed and thrashed. It was a horrible sound.
Still trying to get away, Aevrin fell back onto his ass and stared in shock as Kazeic lifted his bloody jaw and roared down at the cow.
Turning, blood dripping from his muzzle, the dragon backed off and placed himself between Aevrin and the beast.
“Damn,” Aevrin muttered, too shocked to say anything else. Dragons didn’t hurt the cattle. Theyneverhurt the cattle. They were there toguardthe cattle. A second ago, he’d been staring down death in cow-form. Now he was looking at the lashingtail of a protective drake, who barely even liked him, who’d just gone against his hoard instincts to protect his bonded rider.
A second later his father flew over on his red male, jumping off the dragon’s back before Raehid could even properly land. Sathuel Riveker sprinted the last few steps to his son and fell to his knees. Raehid hissed at Kazeic, stalking around the cow in furious annoyance at the loss.
“You’re hurt?” There was panic in his father’s dark eyes.
“No,” Aevrin said. “No. Kazeic…” the cow wasn’t moving. The rest of the herd moved back away from the dragons, agitated and stomping their feet, bursts of fire shooting from them like lightning strikes across a sky. Aevrin felt a pang of guilt. The death wouldn’t have been necessary if he’d just paid attention.
“How in Saints could you be so dumb?” his father snapped, his voice shaking with anger borne from fear.
“Distracted,” Aevrin muttered, embarrassed. He stood lithely and collected his hat from where it had fallen on the ground, unwilling to meet his father’s eyes. He dusted it off.
“Damnit, Aevrin. If that dragon had been a second slower…”
“You don’t got to tell me,” Aevrin muttered, jamming the hat back onto his head. He was out here acting like an unseasoned ranch-hand instead of a Riveker.
“So? What had you so distracted?” Sathuel crossed his arms. Kazeic, satisfied the cattle (now in a full, raging burn) weren’t a threat, turned and shoved his face into Aevrin, knocking the cowherd back a step. Aevrin grabbed hold of one of Kazeic’s horns to steady himself. The dragon grumbled under his breath as he checked his human over with his muzzle.
“Nothing. Cassia. Been meaning to talk to her about something.” Aevrin rubbed the back of his neck.
“Well? Go.”
“Now? We’re not half done.” He patted Kazeic reassuringly. Aevrin’s blood still pounded from his near-death.
“Now,” Sathuel said firmly.
“C’mon. I’m not some schoolboy who needs a break. I’ll do it tonight.”
“Now,” his father repeated sharply. “I don’t want you back here until your head’s on straight. If you get yourself hurt you’re worse than useless.”
“Geeze. Fine,” Aevrin muttered. Feeling flushed and embarrassed, he swung up onto Kazeic’s back and pointed the dragon towards the ranch.
They’d made it all of ten feet when he glanced over his shoulder. His father stood with his face buried in his hands, a shudder running through him and Raehid standing guard. Any annoyance Aevrin felt at being caught out looking stupid turned to guilt. His father was right. It wasn’t just for his own sake that Aevrin needed to get things straightened out with Cassia. He owed it to his family to keep his head firmly attached.
Cassia
Aevrinambledthroughtheback porch in mid-afternoon, work miraculously and inexplicably done, and mentioned off hand that the weather was pretty nice, kind of hot, even, if Cassia wanted to finally see that lot he was planning on building on and maybe give him her ideas about what to put there.
“Well, sure,” Cassia said, wiping her hands on a towel and staring, awkward and dry-mouthed, at the vision standing in the kitchen doorway. Aevrin held his hat in his hands, curls tied back. There was dirt on his leather trousers. “Though I don’t know what helpIcan be with that.”
“I’d like to hear your ideas,” Aevrin said, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable. She couldn’t make out why he was here. Maybe he missed their friendship. She hoped he did, that it wasn’t just her who missed the one-on-ones they used to have, both the serious and the silly. Surely he didn’t mean to talk to her about the kiss, when she’d spent the last few days quietly making clear she expected nothing from him.
“Myideas?” she asked.
