The innkeeper waved them into an unheated room, lit only by the light streaming in from the hallway. The sloping, thatched roof of the building formed two walls. Rough whitewash covered the other two. The room held a trunk, a narrow rope bed, and a cane-backed chair. Dry rushes on the floor crunched softly beneath the women's feet. Snow was piled against the outside of the windowpane in the back wall. Another, similar room could be seen across the hall through the open doorway.
Aggis and the innkeeper spoke in whispers for a few moments. Finally the old woman nodded, and the man left, stealing one last, red-faced, admiring peek at Khisanth before lumbering down the staircase.
After using her teeth to pull the fingerless woolen gloves from her hands, Aggis turned to the chest and began sorting through the clothing. "Bert says to apologize, but he's only got men's clothes. He doesn't get too many ladies passing through, leaving frilly dresses behind." She pulled out a dark purple drawstring tunic and handed it to Khisanth.
"Here, this will do for now." Jamming her hands on her hips, Aggis stood back and peered at Khisanth. "You've got the blackest hair I've ever seen, as black and smooth as pol shy;ished onyx." When Khisanth didn't reply, Aggis tried another tack. "Whaf s your name, child?"
Khisanth was about to respond honestly, but something inside warned her to protect her dragon name.
"You've guessed it," she said. "Onyx. For my hair."
"Isn't that pretty?" Aggis handed her leggings, pan shy;taloons, and thick-heeled, cuffed boots. Khisanth looked in
puzzlement at the collection of clothing, unsure of where she should don any of it. Fortunately, Aggis attributed her confu shy;sion to the garment's being men's clothing.
"You must be used to dresses. Here, Onyx," she said, standing on her tiptoes to hold the tunic above the girl. "Slip this over your head. My goodness, you're a tall girl. You remind me of a black oak tree, with that dark hair and milk-in-coffee skin of yours," she muttered.
Seeing Khisanth's dark hands fumbling next with the pan shy;taloons, Aggis took the russet-colored leathers from her and turned them around so the girl could slip them on. "Of course, you know how pants go on-your fingers must be stiff from the cold. Tuck in the tunic like this." She stuffed the hem of the purple top into the waistband and stood back to examine her charge. The waist was loose, but the legs fit the young woman's muscular frame like a second skin. "You'll have to cinch in the top with some rope."
After Onyx slipped her feet into the boots, Aggis held up one last, fringed garment. Backing into it, Onyx slipped her arms into the sleeves. "This buckskin jacket'll keep out the cold," Aggis pronounced.
"Th-thank you, Aggis," the young woman stumbled over the unfamiliar words.
Aggis shook her head, and her careworn face broadened into a smile. "It was nothing." Glancing to the small glass window, where frost was quickly climbing, she saw that the snowfall had stopped. "We must be good luck for each other. You're safe and dry now, and I won't have to travel in a snowstorm." Aggis stepped to the window and closed the shutters against the weather.
"That should warm it up in here a little," she declared, tug shy;ging her gloves back on. Turning, she clasped Onyx's icy hands and frowned. "You must have cold blood." Onyx snig shy;gered inwardly at the truth of it. "You'll warm up soon enough. I wish I could stay, but I must get home, or my man will give me an earful!" Chuckling, the older woman shuffled in her heavy skirts toward the light in the hallway.
Not knowing what else to do, Onyx followed.
In the doorway Aggis turned, her gloved hand on the cop shy;per knob. "Bert says you should stay the night here, after your ordeal. In any case, don't leave without letting him give you a warm meal and a few steel pieces to get you started again. He's a good man, Bert." She wagged a finger at Onyx. "Mind you, be more careful from now on. A young woman who looks as you do shouldn't travel alone. You should find your shy;self a man to protect you if you've got the wanderlust." She pressed her lips to Onyx's dark cheek, squeezed her hand once more, and then was gone, pulling the door shut behind her.
For some time, Onyx stared at the door, not knowing what to do with herself. Blinking, she became aware of her sur shy;roundings and turned to walk across the rushes. She lowered herself to the floor and tried to curl into the position most comfortable to her as a dragon, but her spine wouldn't curve sufficiently. Spotting the cane-backed chair, she settled her slim form into it with a sigh. Much better.
In the quiet dark of the room, Onyx became aware of the warmth of the maynus against her neck. She untied the vine and slipped the choker from under her tunic. The room was suddenly awash with the globe's light, reflected off the chipped green shutters. She remembered Kadagan's explana shy;tion of the magical globe's origin:
Handed from mother to daughter since the gods created nyphids, the maynus is a source of great magic. It receives its energy from the elemental plane of lightning. Dela believes it was crafted there.
Kadagan might as well have been speaking another lan shy;guage, Onyx thought now, gazing into her only material reminder of the nyphids. Instantly, small bolts of lightning leaped within the glass. She saw something that made her press her nose closer. Were there yellow eyes and mouths on the flickering blue zags of energy? Were electrical genies the source of Dela's magic? Tying the sword choker about her neck again, she resolved to ask Kadagan about it when next she saw him, when her thoughts had cleared after the shape-change.
Onyx was experiencing the same eerie sensation she felt whenever she transformed; hyena or human, after the change
she felt as if she were outside the form, watching herself, con shy;trolling from a distance. Previously, the blending into the adopted form had taken only moments, since the most obvi shy;ous difference between a dragon and a badger was size. But the human form was very different from her own or any other she'd experienced, the body so much more complex. It was clear now that adopting this form, however inferior she believed it to be to a dragon's, would always pose a great challenge to her abilities.
To accelerate the merging of mind and body, Khisanth meditated on the differences between humans and dragons. She had certainly lost the sheer power she derived from her weight as a dragon, but there were benefits she gained, as well.
"I feel lighter, freer," she said aloud, standing and stretch shy;ing luxuriously, "and, well, slender." That was a word she would never have used to describe her dragon form.
Yet for each benefit there were limitations. Without her protective scales, she felt as vulnerable as she had when naked in the snow. Her eyesight was not as keen as a dragon's, and her close-set eyes narrowed her peripheral vision. Yet she could more easily turn her head or body to see behind her. Something of her sharp dragon hearing remained, for she could detect tiny creatures skittering around in the walls, but in her new form, she wasn't particularly interested in devouring them.
Onyx's stomach rumbled abruptly. "I wonder what humans eat?" She caught the scent of roasting meat floating up the stairs from the kitchen. Without thought, she started toward the source of the aroma.
Standing in the cold hallway at the top of the stairs, Onyx was about to descend to the kitchen when she heard the crackle of flames and a mingle of loud voices coming from a staircase at the end of the hallway. Intrigued by the unfamil shy;iar sounds and scents, Onyx strode slowly toward the noise, her thick-heeled boots hammering against the plank flooring.
Onyx came to the end of the hallway, which led to an open-sided staircase. Through the carved spindles, Onyx
could see that the steps descended into the center of a large, crowded taproom and led to the inn's front door. She came to the bottom of the stairs facing the entrance, with her back to the room. But before she could even finish turning, the room had fallen silent. All eyes were upon her. Men sat with mugs of foaming ale poised before whiskered lips.