Soar

Chapter 6

A clatter of pots woke me. The bird Yanif swore in answer. I started at the weight on my body. Panic held me breathless before I realized it was the dragon's wing and tail. I had fallen asleep against his side.

Morning twilight was strengthening toward day. I needed to move before someone found me. When I pushed at his wing, trying to squirm free, the dragon woke. Without a word he lifted his wing and tail away. I stood and brushed the dirt and grass from my clothes.

The dragon and I shared a long look. Pressing my lips together, I went to change and snatch something to eat while the rest of the camp was still stirring.

When I returned with the dragon's water, he was on his feet, flexing his wings. Their span was at least as wide as his body – nose to tail – was long. My eyes traced the lines of joints and veins, visible when the thin blue membrane was turned toward the sun. Surely those wings were large enough to bear his weight.

The bottle of potion was in my hand, poised over the trough I had just filled. On impulse, I corked the bottle and buried it in my apron pocket.

"You should not have done that." The dragon carefully folded his wings, readjusting them several times so they lay properly.

Avoiding his eyes, I picked at some grass on my shirt. "Why?"

"If Master knew, he would whip you. Perhaps even send you away. You told me so."

I met his eyes. His head hung low, on level with mine. Tired, weak, worn. "You told me I was strong enough to choose," I whispered. I shoved my hand after the bottle to hide its shaking. "I have never fought before. Perhaps now...." I searched his eyes and fought down the lump in my stomach.

"Why?" he asked, a whine edging his voice.

Moving close enough to touch his snout, I set both shaking hands on it. "Without that potion, you can find what strength you need to fight. And maybe you could lend me a little. Perhaps together we can find enough strength."

He pulled away. "I thought you hated me." The old tone of haughty unconcern was back.

"I tried." Folding my arms, I grinned at him. "And I thought you hated me."

His snort warmed my face. "I tried. I hated the silence more."

The bottle hung heavily against my leg. Glancing behind me, I pulled it out and poured its contents on the grass. "A wiser creature would know better than to make friends with a Shaderi," I said as I watched the greenish stream melt the frost and slither away.

"The same could be said about making friends with dragons."

"Girl!"

Shoving the bottle back into my apron, I spun toward the voice: Gaumor. He approached with quick steps, scowling deeply.

"We are going into the city today to perform," he told me gruffly. I shifted to hide the stain in the grass, but he was not even looking at me. "You are to ride the dragon. Do you understand?"

My mouth opened, but my head was still making sense of his order.

"Answer me!"

"I-I.... Sir, I cannot-"

"You don't fool me, witch. You will do as I say."

I glanced over my shoulder at the dragon. He was watching us, his body rigid.

"Do you hear me?" Gaumor demanded.

Facing him, I nodded.

"Then get ready." He stalked away.