“The sun’s down now,” Kindan said to the watch-wher, pointing toward the lake. “Why don’t you go for a quick dip and Zenor and I will freshen up your bed?”
Dask nodded and started out of the shed. Wide-eyed, Zenor backed out of the way as the watch-wher pushed by him. Then Dask gave a little happy chirp, flapped his wings once, and vanished. A cold breeze blew over Zenor from where Dask had been.
“Kindan, he vanished!”
“He went between,” Kindan corrected. “Come on and help me tidy his bed. There should be some fresh straw near you.”
“Between? You mean just like dragons?” Zenor looked from the spot where the watch-wher had been to the lake.
Kindan glanced consideringly at his friend and shrugged. “I suppose so. I’ve never seen a dragon go between. I heard their riders tell them where to go—but Dask does it on his own. He doesn’t like all the bright fires in the square, so he’s always going the faster way.
“Come on,” he continued. “Give me a hand. He’ll be back soon and then the work really starts.”
Kindan was serious. They had just gotten fresh straw spread about in a satisfactory bed when another blast of chill air announced Dask’s return. The watch-wher’s brown skin was glistening with drops of water, and, with a happy noise, he shook himself.
“No!” Kindan bellowed. “Don’t shake! We’ve got to get the dirt off you first.”
Grabbing a long-handled brush and a bar of hard soap, Kindan directed Zenor to a bucket of scrubsand. Between them, they scrubbed the watch-wher from top to bottom, snout to tail. Both boys were wet and sweating by the time the watch-wher was clean and dry.
“There you are, Dask,” Kindan said, pleased. “All clean and handsome. Just don’t roll before the ceremony tomorrow.”
Even in the low light, Kindan could see Dask’s multifaceted eyes whirling with the green and blue of happiness.
“Whew!” Zenor breathed, sinking down to the floor by the doors. “Washing watch-whers is hard work! I wonder what it’s like with dragons?”
“Harder,” Kindan said. At Zenor’s questioning look, he explained, “Well, dragons are bigger, aren’t they? And their skin flakes and has to be oiled, too.”
Kindan rose to his feet and gave Dask a hug and a pat on the neck. “Dask here doesn’t need to worry about such things. He’s tough!”
“I’m tired,” Zenor said. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to wash him all by yourself.”
“We’d’ve been faster if your friend had helped,” Kindan said.
Zenor jumped up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! There’s no one here but us.”
“Who are you talking to?” a voice called loudly from outside the shed. It was Kaylek. “Kindan, if you’ve got someone helping you, Dad’ll skin you alive!”
Zenor vanished into the shadows as Kaylek entered, looking suspicious.
“What are you talking about, Kaylek?” Kindan demanded coyly. “Can’t you see I’m just finishing?”
“In about half the time I’d’ve expected of you,” Kaylek muttered, peering into the corners of the shed. Behind him, Kindan could see Zenor carefully move the brush he had been using out of sight.
“I’m a fast worker,” Kindan said.
“Since when?” Kaylek retorted. “I’m sure you had help. Dad’ll lynch you—you know how he feels about people spooking his watch-wher.” Kindan noticed that Kaylek never called Dask by his name.
“Whoever it is has to be nearby,” Kaylek said, eyes darting this way and that in the dark shed. “I’ll find him and then—”
A loud rattle of stones outside interrupted him.
“Aha!” Kaylek yelled and charged off in the direction of the sound.
Kindan waited until Kaylek’s steps had faded into the distance before speaking again. “I think it’s all right now,” he said to Zenor at last. “But you’d better leave.”
“Yeah, I guess I’d better,” Zenor agreed.
“And thank your friend for making that diversion. I was sure that Kaylek was going to find you.”
Zenor drew a breath as if to argue but let it out again in a sigh and left, shaking his head. Kindan listened to Zenor’s footsteps as they faded in the distance, heading back toward the square. Then he bowed to Dask, said good-bye, and closed the shed.
Outside he paused. He turned his head in the direction he had heard the rattle come from. It was from a spot just a bit off the regular track between the mines and the square. For a long while he stood, trying to pierce the dark with his eyes. If he were bonded with a watch-wher, like his father was with Dask, he could have asked his watch-wher to see who was out there. Finally, Kindan gave up and made a guess.
“Thank you, Dalor,” he said toward the darkness, as he headed back toward his bed.
Not long after he had left, a soft voice giggled.
Chapter II
Wake up, sleepyhead!” Sis shouted at Kindan. Kindan squirmed further into the warm blankets. Abruptly his pillow was pulled out from under his head. He groaned, startled by the sudden movement.
“You heard Sis, get up!” Kaylek said, roughly turning his youngest brother out of the bed.
“I’m up! I’m up!” Kindan snarled. He wished he had just a bit more time to remember his dream. Momma was in it, he was sure.
Kindan never told anyone about his dreams of his mother, not after the first time. He knew that his mother had died giving birth to him; he couldn’t help knowing, because his brothers and sisters practically blamed him for it. But Sis—and his father, who spoke so rarely—both said that it wasn’t his fault. Sis told Kindan how big a smile his mother had had when she held him in her arms. “He’s beautiful!” his mother had said to his father. And then she had died.
“Your mother wanted you,” Danil had told him once after Kindan had come home crying because his big brothers had told him that no one had wanted him. “She knew the risks, but she said you’d be worth it.”
“Ma said you wouldn’t need much looking after,” Sis had said another time, “but you’d be worth it.”
This morning Kindan didn’t feel worth much of anything. He scrambled to get his clothes on, washed his face in cold water in the basin, and rushed to the breakfast table.
“Throw the water out and clean the basin,” Jakris growled, grabbing him by the ear and spinning him back toward their room. “You’re the last one who used it.”
“I’ll get it later!” Kindan yelped.
Jakris turned and blocked the exit. “You will not—you’ll get it now or Sis’ll give it to you later.”
Kindan frowned and turned back to the washbasin. With his back to Jakris he stuck out his tongue. His bigger brother would have decked him if he had seen him.
Taking care of the washbasin ensured that Kindan was the last in to breakfast. He looked around for something to eat. There was klah to drink—cold. Some cereal, but not much, and no milk to go with it. The others hurried away, but Sis turned them back with either a growl or a frown, so they couldn’t get away with leaving their dishes for him.
“You’ll eat well tonight, Kindan,” Sis said to him as he mournfully spooned his breakfast. Her eyes were particularly bright.
Kindan was confused for a moment, but then he remembered—there was a wedding tonight. Sis’s wedding.
“Now, get out of here, you’ve chores to do,” she said, shoving him affectionately out of the kitchen.
First thing out the door, Kindan stopped. Sis hadn’t assigned chores like she usually did. He turned back just as she came charging out.
“Go ask Jenella,” Sis said scoldingly before Kindan could even open his mouth.
Jenella was Natalon’s wife. As she was very pregnant, Sis had stood in for her ever since the families had moved up to the Camp, six months ago.