“Well, if it isn’t Zey Tanner,” Boone said, disgust written on the sheriff’s features. “Didn’t you know we’ve been looking all over for you? By imperial writ, I place you in the custody of the Western Reach of Zhavek. Saints have mercy on your spirit, you’ll need it.”
“Hey, sheriff!” Mavek called, with a big grin, as he and Sath walked their horses towards the lawman, one of the bull riders lassoed between the two of them like a bug in a web. Worried, Aevrin searched for the other rider, and found a pile of char some thirty feet off. “I caught one too. Do I get a prize?”
Cassia
Cassiawasonedgeall day. She’d been through a lot in life, but she’d never been shot at before. The arrow that hit the window had barely missed where she’d been sitting on the porch, staring out at the mountains and gathering a little peace.
And then, to see Aevrin take after the riders like a maniac, and Mavek and Sath Riveker race along with him instead of dragging him back—and to hear a dragon’s bellowing scream when they were all out of view, with no way to know who’d been shooting or who’d been hit. A little less luck and the day could have gone completely differently.
But it was over, and they were safe. Zey Tanner was locked up, as were his associates. Boone’s men had found human remains on Tanner’s ranch, enough to promise Zey never walked free. The missing cattle were all returned, skinnier than they’d been when they were taken.
Aevrin and Mavek had gone back to get the juvenile gold dragon from the side of the road, but he hadn’t been thereanymore. Aevrin told Cassia he looked a while, but if the drake wanted to hide, he was going to hide, and it was his call.
She didn’t like the thought of the dragon alone and wounded somewhere, but as Gramma Prisca pointed out, there were plenty of dragon nests in the mountain. The gold might have had a thunder to return to. Cassia did her best to put it out of her mind.
After a quiet, simple dinner, Sorven stood at the kitchen washbasin, looked up from the dishes, and hollered that the dragon was outside.
They all spilled out the front door. The gold dragon hunched low on the ground, on the other side of the dirt cart-road. In the dying light the bloody marks on his haunches weren’t visible, but he still wore the tack he’d been saddled with, the bridle’s metal bit cutting at the edges of his mouth and the reins broken into two strands dragging on the ground. He lifted his head slightly as they all emerged from the house, dark eyes flicking back and forth to take in all the people.
“Careful, now,” Prisca warned, tapping Sorven’s chest before the youth could plunge down the porch steps. “Just because he’s hurt doesn’t mean you can go running over like he’s your friend. Never forget they’re deadly to those outside their thunder, Sorven.”
“But Gramma, he needs help…” Sorven complained. Cassia hugged herself and stared at the golden dragon, unable to look away.
Sath was the first to approach, walking slowly with his hands out, pausing every few steps to read the dragon’s body language. The gold didn’t move a muscle as Sath approached, but his dark eyes were fixed on Aevrin’s father. Sath had reached the middle of the road, some five feet from the drake, when the dragon surged upright and galloped twenty feet to the rightbefore thumping back to the ground, his gaze fixed on the house again.
Sath put his hands on his hips and stared at the dragon thoughtfully.
“He’s wanting something,” Gramma Prisca said. “He came here for a reason.”
“Food?” Mavek wondered out loud. “If he’s not used to catching his own?”
“Try it,” Prisca said. The front door creaked as Mavek disappeared inside, then returned with a disk of cockatrice tail Cassia had planned to grill, pale flesh encircled by emerald green snakeskin. She watched as Mavek approached the gold. Mavek crouched down the moment the drake started to shift, until he settled again, and then Mavek tossed the meat his direction. It landed a foot away from the drake. The drake flinched, then took a few steps back and crouched down again, ignoring the food.
The dragon’s eyes were on her. And hers were on him. They studied each other.
Cassia took her hand off the porch wall and slowly descended the stairs, her eyes not leaving the dragon’s.
“Hold up,” Sath called. “You aren’t used to ‘em.”
She kept walking.
“Cassia?” Aevrin asked behind her.
“I need to,” she answered, without turning away from the drake.
“Just go slow, then,” he said.
Logic said she ought to be nervous, but something in her saiddon’t be. The dragon was still looking at her. She felt an odd certainty in her gut. Slowly she walked towards the golden, passing where Mavek crouched on the ground. The drake lifted his neck to watch Cassia but otherwise didn’t move, even whenCassia got so close she could reach out and touch her hand to the dragon’s muzzle.
Up close the drake’s dark eyes were flecked with molten gold. He had a warm, sharp smell, like yeast and cracked peppercorn. Cassia held the dragon’s gaze, staring into his eyes instead of looking at the dragon’s wounds. She slowly offered her hand, palm up. The dragon hesitated, then lowered his jaw until the warm scales pressed down on Cassia’s palm.
Cassia felt fire spool through her, a sense of right and belonging. And a name.
Vadalae.
She reached up and loosened the buckles around the drake’s head, letting the bridle fall to the ground with a clatter. There was a crunch of footsteps behind her. Suddenly the golden jerked his head away from Cassia, snorting and glaring at the figure who’d approached.
“I’m not laying a hand on you, boy. I know I’m just a stranger,” Aevrin said calmly. “Cassia, you’d better show your bonded around back. Don’t go further than the washline until the other dragons can get a look at him, but we’ve got medicines for him in the coop.”
