“More?”
“Yes,” she replied, raising her head. “I’ve been playing with Larissa, teaching her.”
“What can you learn from a baby that you can teach a watch-wher?” Kindan demanded angrily.
“Manners, for one thing,” she said bitingly. “And it seems to me that Master Zist needs to work on yours.”
The two traded more barbed comments before Kindan cooled off. He paused, looking shyly at Nuella, whose nostrils were still flaring in anger—until he realized that his breathing was labored.
“Nuella, the air!” Kindan said. “It’s bad. Really bad, not just stale. We need to get out of here.”
Nuella looked up at him, took a deep breath, and nodded. “You’re right. I’ve got this terrible headache and it’s not just from your shouting.” She grinned. “Talk to Kisk.”
“What?”
“Tell her about the air—get her to remember what it smells like,” she said. “I’d been hoping this would happen.”
“Hoping?”
“Yes, so we can teach Kisk,” Nuella said. “Oh, do talk to her. Or must I do that, too?”
Kindan patted the watch-wher on the neck. “Do you smell the air, Kisk?” He took a deep breath by way of example. “It smells stale, doesn’t it?” He took another breath. “Stale.”
The watch-wher took a breath and let it out with a rasp. She looked up thoughtfully at Kindan and chirped, Errwll.
“Stale,” Kindan repeated, taking another breath.
Kisk took another breath. Errwll.
“You’ve learned a word!” Nuella exclaimed.
Kindan gave her a look and was glad that she couldn’t catch it. “I can’t see how you can say that errwll sounds like stale.”
“I didn’t say that. I said that you’ve learned a word. Now you know that when Kisk chirps ‘errwll’ she’s telling you that the air is stale.”
A look of comprehension dawned on Kindan’s face. “You mean, she’s teaching me her language?”
“I doubt watch-whers have a language. Even the dragons don’t have a language—they make noise for emphasis but they don’t speak. They don’t need to, they use telepathy,” Nuella said. “But that doesn’t mean that the two of you can’t work out ways to communicate together.” She stretched a probing hand out toward the watch-wher and, when she found it, gently rubbed Kisk’s nose. “What a good little girl.”
“We’d better go,” Kindan said. “My head is killing me.”
“See? And you’ve learned that your head aches when the air gets stale,” Nuella added triumphantly.
“I knew that already,” he replied. “My head ached for days after I pulled you guys out of your house.”
“Oh,” Nuella said, crestfallen, “right. I’d forgotten.”
Silently, Kindan turned back down the street. A moment later Nuella’s hand crept shyly into his and squeezed it. “Thank you,” she said softly.
Kindan could think of nothing to say.
Chapter X
Zenor was furious with them when he found out two days later. “You went down there by yourselves! You could have been killed. What if something had happened to you?”
“Dalor knew,” Nuella replied just as hotly.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Zenor said to her.
“Well, I was talking to you,” Nuella snapped back.
Kisk gave a worried cheep and nudged Kindan.
“Stop it, both of you,” Kindan said, his voice quiet, his pitch—thankfully—deep, and his tone firm. It had, he realized as Nuella and Zenor both gave him startled looks, the tone of command to it. He suppressed a smile and continued with his momentum, saying, “Zenor, we were as safe as we could be, maybe even safer because we had Kisk with us.”
“An untrained watch-wher makes you safe?” Zenor cried in disbelief.
“And how do you expect her to get trained?” Nuella inquired in a tight voice. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides.
Kindan started to say something, to try his “command voice” again, but Kisk nudged him with her head, stood up off her front legs, and flapped her tiny wings at him, making a throaty chirp. Kindan cocked an eyebrow at her. Kisk repeated herself, complete with chirp.
“You two, we’re going to have company,” Kindan said.
“What?” Zenor said. “How do you know?”
Kindan gestured. “Kisk told me. A dragonrider.” The watch-wher shook her head firmly, unmistakably. “Two dragonriders?” Kisk nodded vigorously.
“You’ve been practicing!” Nuella exclaimed delightedly. “What’s it like?”
“Well,” Kindan said, consideringly, “it’s almost like I get images from her—but it’s not. And I guess it’s more like communicating with a fire-lizard than with a dragon. Or maybe somewhere in between. Whichever way it is, she tells me until I understand her.
“Zenor, would you run and warn Master Zist?”
Zenor glanced at Nuella. “What about her? Shouldn’t I get her back to her room?”
“No way!” Nuella cried. “I’m staying right here.” She stalked over to Kisk and wrapped her arms around the watch-wher’s neck.
Zenor flushed with anger, but Kindan gave him a quick calm-down gesture. “Please, Zenor, I’m sure the Harper will want to know.”
Zenor’s mouth worked angrily. “Well at least hide, Nuella. Don’t let them see you.” Nuella’s response was to bury her head in the watch-wher’s shoulder with an audible hmpph. Zenor grimaced again but left.
“It’s not my secret anyway,” Nuella muttered softly into Risk’s tough hide.
“What?” Kindan had been distracted, wondering what two dragonriders could want.
“I said, it’s not my secret,” Nuella repeated. “It’s Father’s. He’s the one who doesn’t want anyone to know about me.
“His mother was blind too, you know. He’s afraid it’s passed on, that any daughter we kids have will be blind, too. And he’s afraid that it makes him look weak—as if anyone would care. It’s not like he’s the one who’s blind.”
Kindan sensed that Nuella was telling him because she just had to tell someone. He also guessed that she felt she couldn’t tell Zenor—or was afraid.
He tried to say something comforting. “But Larissa—”
“It’s too early to tell, still,” Nuella interjected. “I could see just fine until my third Turn and then, over the course of a year, everything got blurry and dim.”
“Does Tarik—”
“I think that’s why Father keeps him around,” Nuella said. “He’s afraid Tarik will spread tales. He’s afraid about what’ll happen to me, if I’ll ever get married—”
“Zenor—”
“Him!” Nuella snorted. Kisk curled her neck around to butt Nuella gently on the shoulder with a soothing mrrrgll.
Kindan, whose ears had gotten much better under her tutelage, asked, “Nuella, are you crying?”
“No,” Nuella said, but Kindan could hear the tears in her voice. “Why should I be? I’m fine. I’ll be just fine. I don’t need to get married, you know. I’ll take care of myself. I have plans, you know.”
“Plans?” Kindan repeated. “What sort of plans?”
“Secret plans,” Nuella said. “I’ll be okay, don’t you worry about me.”
Kindan was rather sure that Nuella’s plans were secret even to her. He tried again to comfort her. “Nuella, I’ll always be your friend. Kisk and I will always be there for you.”
“How?” Nuella asked, turning away from Kisk’s side and wiping her eyes. “How can you say that? What happens if there’s a cave-in or something? What if you’re killed, both of you? What then? What are you going to do then?”
“We won’t be killed,” Kindan said firmly. “If there’s a cave-in, Kisk and I will dig ourselves out. And then we’ll dig the others out, too. Zenor and Dalor and everyone.”
“Don’t put yourselves out over Zenor,” Nuella said grumpily. Kindan reached out tenderly and brushed the tears off her face. She caught his hand in one of her hands and wiped her tears with the other. “Thanks,” she said softly. “I’m okay now. It’s just sometimes ... I wish I could see.” She made a rueful face. “I wish I could see Zenor’s face when I get him angry. Oh, I can feel the heat of his blush—who couldn’t?—but I don’t know if it’s the same...” She trailed off and her face took on an abstracted look. “I’ve just had a thought,” she said slowly. “If I can feel the heat off Zenor’s face, I wonder if Kisk could?”