Page 5 of Crash Landed with My Weredragon

"Badly enough that we can't leave. Our engineer says he needs parts we don't have. We need metal alloy of a specific grade."

"Ceylara has metals. The volcanic activity produces mineral deposits that might be compatible with your needs. I could show your engineer where to look."

Marina studied him. He could see the calculation happening behind her green eyes; the risk assessment, the cost-benefit analysis, the careful weighing of trust against survival. She was deciding whether to accept help from an alien she'd met three minutes ago. The decision was genuinely difficult, and he respected her for not making it instantly.

"Why would you help us?" she asked.

The honest answer was complicated. It involved his private collection of human artifacts, his disagreement with his father's isolationism, his belief that Dobromia's survival depended on allies rather than conquest, and the fact that her red hair was doing something to his concentration that he preferred not to examine. He chose the portion of the truth that was most useful.

"Because your species has resources mine needs. Food and technology. It’s a planet that isn't dying. Helping you creates goodwill. Goodwill could become alliance. Alliance could save my people."

"That's very pragmatic."

"I'm a pragmatic person."

"You're also an alien who just transformed from a dragon into a man in front of my security team. Forgive me if I'm having a little trouble with 'pragmatic.'"

He smiled. He hadn't expected to smile. Weredragons didn't smile at strangers because it showed teeth, which was either a threat display or an intimacy, depending on context. He was doing neither. He was smiling because she was funny, and nobody on Dobromia was funny. Khrelan was certainly not funny. Auren tried, but his humor ran toward innuendo that lost its impact through repetition.

Above them, Auren circled with lazy precision. The gray-scaled Weredragon hadn't landed because Toren hadn't given the signal. Khrelan was further up, his navy scales nearly invisible against the brown sky. Khrelan wouldn't land without a direct order, and even then, he'd do it with the reluctant aggression of someone who disapproved of everything that was happening.

"I have two companions," Toren said. "Auren is the friendly one. Khrelan is the suspicious one. They're staying airborne until you're comfortable. I'd like to introduce them, but only when you're ready."

"The blonde one is my sister, Athena. She's our security lead. The man beside me is Peter. He's had a rough day; an acid worm dissolved his boot."

"The tube worms. Yes, they're territorial. Avoid the sulfur vents and they'll leave you alone."

"We figured that out. The hard way."

Another almost-smile. Toren filed it away in the part of his mind that was rapidly building a profile of Marina Livingstone. Smart, dry humor, cautious but not closed. Green eyes that widened slightly when she was processing something unexpected. Red hair that really was doing something to his concentration.

He needed to stop noticing the hair.

* * *

The negotiations; if you could call two people standing on alien rock making it up as they went, took about twenty minutes. Marina proposed terms with the crisp efficiency of someone who'd been trained for this, even if this scenario had never appeared in any training manual. Her terms were straightforward: the Weredragons would help locate materials for the ship's repairs and provide protection from the local wildlife. In exchange, the humans would share food from their stores and allow the Weredragons to study their technology.

"Study, not take," Marina clarified. "You can look. You can ask questions. You don't touch anything without permission."

"Agreed."

"And no one enters our ship without an escort."

"Agreed."

"And if your suspicious friend up there decides he doesn't like the arrangement, he keeps his opinions to a non-violent level."

Toren glanced up at Khrelan, whose circling had tightened noticeably during the conversation. "I'll handle Khrelan. He's loyal but cautious. He doesn't trust easily."

"I can work with cautious. I can't work with hostile."

"He won't be hostile. He'll be disapproving. There's a difference, though it's subtle."

"I'm familiar with the type. I have a department head exactly like that. Dr. Vasquez disapproves of everything I do and then does it anyway because she knows I'm right." Marina extended her hand. "Do you know what a handshake is?"

"I've seen it in your movies."

"You watch our movies?"