Lily frowned at Rule. “It’s just Gan. You aren’t going to attack it again, are you?”
It was harder than it should have been to remember the reasons he couldn’t. The wolf wanted to, badly. And the man didn’t disagree, but knew better.
His tail twitched in disgust, partly at himself. He took the two rat-rabbits from Lily’s hand. He’d eat them outside. Less of a mess—and he wouldn’t have to smell the demon while he ate.
He passed Gan on the threshold.
“Hey, look who’s awake,” it said. “It’s old dark, mute, and crippled. Going to have a picnic, fur-face?”
Rule ignored it, carrying his meal several paces away and lying down. He glanced up. The sky was much darker now, more gray than copper, and the air had that near-shimmer of approaching twilight. And there were more dragons overhead than before—three, five… six now, and wasn’t that another one headed this way?
Either they wanted extra guards at night, or the dragons were protection as well as jailers. Night often brought new dangers, and they didn’t want Lily killed.
On that one point, he and the dragons agreed. He bit into a rat-rabbit and grimaced. Good thing he wasn’t a picky eater.
“How far away do you think you were?” Lily asked the demon.
“How do I know?”
“Guess. I want to know the limits of this bond.”
That jolted Rule. It echoed so precisely the way she’d reacted to the mate bond—test it, learn the parameters.
“Maybe three kilometers.” There was a clatter as Gan dropped its load.
“Did you go to the limit of the bond?”
“I said I would, didn’t I? It was like walking into a Zone that doesn’t want you there. Everything turned thick and I couldn’t breathe, so I backed up.”
“I didn’t feel anything.” Lily crouched to feed one of the smaller branches into the fire. “Break a couple more in half, would you? They’re too big.”
“Of course you didn’t feel anything.” Gan cracked a three-inch thick branch over its knee. “I’m the one partly inside you, not the other way around.”
The bond between Lily and the demon wasn’t exactly like the mate bond, then. That didn’t make Rule feel any better.
Rule finished off the first rat-rabbit methodically, glancing overhead every so often. The dragons were gathering along the top of the cliff. Odd. He’d stay out here a while, he decided. Keep watch.
“How did the dragons react to you climbing the cliff?” she asked.
“One of them kept track of me, but from a distance. They know I can’t go far. You’ll keep your end of our deal now, right?”
Rule stiffened, looking back at the cave. Lily had made a deal with the demon?
Lily had her fire going nicely now. She sat beside it. “Of course. One load of firewood equals five rounds of I Spy”
Gan grinned, showing its pointy teeth. “I get to go first.” It plopped down on the dirt floor, stubby legs extended, and leaned back on its tail as it looked around, its gaze landing on Rule outside. “I spy something furry and stupid.”
“Your turn will be over fast if you play that way,” Lily said. “And you’re supposed to use colors, remember?”
Rule shook his head and finished eating to the sound of “I spy something gray” and Lily’s guesses. With the light nearly gone, almost everything in the cave was some shade of gray, so the game was likely to last a while.
How could she stand to be around the creature? She was playing kids games with it, for God’s sake. If he…
A low, mournful sound drew his gaze up.
There were seven dragons now. Seven dragons lined up along the top of the cliff, silhouetted against the darkening sky, their long necks stretched up.
Again the sound came… longer, deeper. Haunting. A little like a didjeridu, he thought. And the dragons were making it.
He’d thought them mute. Not dumb, no—they had mindspeech, possibly true telepathy. But not once had he heard any of them make a sound, not a grunt or a cough, until now. Now, when they sang to the gathering dusk.
Inside the cave, Lily looked up. “What’s that?”
Rule yipped: Come out. Come out and hear this. Another dragon had joined the first, and another.
“It’s just the dragons,” Gan said. “And it’s still my turn.”
“In a minute.” Lily stood.
“We aren’t finished!” Gan cried.
“Hush. I’ll finish later. I want to hear this.” She came out to stand beside Rule, looking up, as he was.
The dragons’ long necks were their instruments. Lungs accustomed to charging those big bodies with enough oxygen to sustain flight powered their song, and they wrapped their voices together in harmonies like nothing he’d ever imagined—eerie, wordless, haunting.
He glanced at Lily. Everything he felt was on her face—awe, grief, a poignancy as vast as the growing darkness. She met his gaze and then sat beside him, their bodies touching. And for a timeless period, Rule forgot everything he’d lost, everything he stood to lose, in the glory of dragonsong.
It was full dark when it ended. Not pitch black; more like new-moon dark, Rule thought, once he could think again. Lily was leaning against him.
He turned to look at her, aching to put his arms around her. But even if he’d had the right-shaped mouth to speak, he didn’t have words for what he’d just experienced.
Her face was damp. She met his eyes… and yawned. “Oh,” she said, startled, and did it again. “I thought… but I’m sleepy. Really sleepy.”
Everything inside Rule smiled. He’d worried about her sleeplessness. Her body might no longer want sleep, but the human mind needed to dream. He nudged her with his nose.
She gave a little laugh. “I guess I’d better get inside. I feel like I’ve been up for days… I have been, haven’t I? But this hit so suddenly…” This time she yawned like she was going to crack her jaw.
He nudged her again. She smiled, pushed his muzzle away, and stood, blinking. “Straight to bed, I think.” She looked a little unsteady as she headed for the cave.
Gan was inside, sulking, playing some game with a few small pieces of bones. “Are you finally going to finish our game?”
“Sorry, Gan. I’m not going to be able to stay awake long…” Another yawn. “Long enough. I’ll give you an extra round tomorrow to make up for waiting,” she promised, heading for the back of the cave, wobbling a little.
“Shit.” Gan stared after her. “It gets dark, and she conks out.”
Rule thought the darkness was coincidence, but maybe not. He followed her.
Moments after lying down on the mat where he’d slept, she was asleep. He sat beside her for a while, listening to Gan mutter. The demon seemed to be trying to levitate the bones. It wasn’t having much luck.
He was, he realized, extremely thirsty. But nature called. He went outside to take care of that and then returned to drink from the small basin filled by the spring. He was getting better at the three-legged bit, he thought. But bending to drink was a bitch.
He emptied the basin and was waiting for it to refill when he noticed an odd scent. Curious, he followed his nose to a boulder. Dragon-scent, he realized. Faint enough that he hadn’t picked up on it from a distance. And not just any dragon—this smelled of the one he thought of as Old Black. The one who’d told Lily to call him Sam.
He looked up at the ceiling, puzzled. That huge beast couldn’t have fit back here. His tail, maybe… Rule checked the ground around the spring and the boulder. Only the boulder held the scent.
He’d moved it, Rule realize. The dragon had moved the boulder. To hide something? Something like—a way out? Excited, Rule yipped.
“Go chase your tail,” Gan said, staring at its bone fragments. “I’m busy.” One of the pieces lifted about an inch at one end but then fell. “Stupid fucker!” Gan cried. “Those dragons have eaten all the stupid magic here!”