"I-I don't live in Styx," said Khisanth. "I was just passing through."
"If this is how the city treats its visitors, then I'm glad I live in the hills!" she spat. Aggis patted Khisanth's hand, and the dragon had to force herself not to pull away. "Not to worry. I know an innkeeper near the city's edge who'll help you. We'll slip in the back way, through the kitchen, to spare you the embarrassment of prying eyes." With undisguised envy, she glanced again at Khisanth's barely covered form. Her own figure had not looked half so feminine even before chil shy;dren, she thought wistfully.
As they walked to the town gates and into the city, Khi shy;santh listened only enough to respond when necessary. She was caught up in her own thoughts and had no concept of human embarrassment, especially about nudity, having never worn clothing.
With one arm draped around Khisanth's shoulders and the other steadying her elbow, Aggis led the disguised dragon through the narrow alleys. In places, the thatched peaks of the buildings leaned so close together the falling snow scarcely reached the ground. Yellow light from candles bled through oiled parchment windows, keeping the dark shy;ness of night from the walkways. A bull-necked youth cut across their path, struggling under the weight of two buckets on a yoke. Dogs ran, barking, between the legs of villagers hurrying home. Women leaned from second-story windows and called their children to the evening meal.
Finally Aggis rapped on a battered wooden door that was nearly hidden between piles of empty crates and small bar shy;rels. A fat, balding man with saggy cheeks opened the door, permitting a wave of warm air to escape and surround the two women. The innkeeper gawked in surprise for a moment at Khisanth's naked body, but he came to his senses when he heard his kitchen help whistling appreciatively behind him.
"Slice them stew potatoes and mind yer own businesses," he growled. Quickly he helped Aggis hustle Khisanth up a narrow set of stairs just off the kitchen.
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