She also brought him a small golden sea trout and dropped it at his feet as the other dragons settled in, dripping quantities of water over the nest.
The trout caused an argument among them. Starpounder said Seastrider was spoiling Teb. They began to tussle, rocking the nest so hard Teb thought they would push it off the mountain peak, thrashing up into the sky, stirring a wind like a hurricane.
They descended at last, grinning at one another as only dragons can grin, and settled down side by side on the nest. It was still early, the sun barely up.
They could not do their work in daylight. Seastrider sighed and curled down in a tight coil against the side of the nest with the others. Teb stood watching them, feeling depressed in spite of the morning’s work.
They were too few. The other three dragons had no human bards to complete their magic. He didn’t even know whether there were any more bards on Tirror besides Camery, if she really had inherited their mother’s talent. He could remember her singing, innocently following their mother’s voice when they were small. Neither of them had guessed, then, what their song could mean someday. He meant to find her, and the best way was to join the underground. He didn’t feel ready, but the time was close. He didn’t like to think he was afraid.
Chapter 2
Teb watched the dragons stir and wake. All four turned to look at him. Even to a dragonbard, those four stares all at once, bright and intent, were unnerving. He frowned, trying to understand what they were thinking.
He had an impression of journey, of wheeling flight. But they did that every morning. He had an impression of cobbled streets and dim city doorways seen close at hand, of palaces and crowds of people and the smell of taverns. Yes, their sleeping thoughts had been the same as his waking ones. It is time, Teb thought. Time for me to go into the cities.
The dragons nodded.
He felt shrunken and small knowing he would walk alone and earthbound when for so long he had soared aloft between the wings of dragons and had been protected by dragons.
But he and the dragons had done their work on nearly all the smaller continents. Only a few islands were left. Their usefulness through song was nearly gone for the present. The larger lands were ruled by the dark, except for half a dozen, and one bard and four dragons could not free the minds of a whole continent at one time. The dragons would be discovered, the dark put on alert. They must play the game close until their band was larger.
He must join the underground. He must search for bards. He must learn the ways of the resistance, and how best to help it. He must make himself and the dragons known to the resistance, so they could plan together for the greater battles to come.
“Yes,” said Seastrider. “Yes. But you will not go alone.”
He stared at her. What nonsense was this? He had always known that when the time came, he must go into the cities alone. “What do you plan to do?” he asked her, touching her great silver cheek. “Walk the roads pretending to be my war-horse?”
“Yes,” she said. “I will do that.”
Teb wished she could. It wasn’t a moment for joking.
“I will shape-shift. We have spoken of it before. It is not impossible.”
“But you said it was unreliable, with the powers of the dark so strong. Even if you could make shape-shifting magic strong enough to counter the dark, it could be dangerous. You said you might not be able to change back.”
“With practice, Tebriel, we will manage. Nothing in this life is without danger.”
“And what do you mean by we?”
“One saddle horse and three to follow you.” Seastrider stretched out over the lip of the nest, her wings spread on the wind so she hung motionless in the sky. Then she turned and curled down into a tight circle. Suddenly she vanished.
In her place reared a dazzling white mare, her neck bowed and her green eyes blazing. Teb stood gaping.
Then Starpounder disappeared, and where the blue-black dragon had coiled there wheeled a snorting blue-black stallion. Then Nightraider, two stallions and a mare now, and then Windcaller. So two and two they were, their eyes flashing with powerful magic.
“How can you do that?” Teb said, caught in wonder. “How can your bodies compress so? How . . . ?”
We do not compress, Seastrider managed to tell him. Our bodies are caught in another dimension. What you see of us is the stuff of magic, of the shape-shifting spell, and not real.
Teb touched her shoulder and neck, and wove his fingers in her mane. She felt very real to him, warm and silken, with the wild, sweet smell of a good horse. He put his hand on her back. She stayed steady. He tightened his hand in her mane and with a sudden thrust leaped across her back and swung astride. She stood quivering and snorting; then she reared and pawed in a battle stance, so he had to grip tight with his knees. She galloped in a small circle, leaping logs, then stood quiet, sweating.
Will I do? she asked demurely.
“Oh, yes. Only . . . you are too beautiful. All of you are. You will attract too much attention.”
Seastrider lowered her head and looked at him with wry teasing that made him laugh. We cannot help being beautiful, Tebriel. Dragons are the most beautiful creatures alive, and so we have become beautiful horses. They had no false modesty, these dragons.
Teb sighed. “Not only will you make me more conspicuous,” he said, “but the armies of the dark would like very much to have such mounts as you. What will you do if they try to steal you?”
When she did not answer, he grew annoyed. He knew her silences. “What kind of plan are you cooking? Do you want to be stolen? But what good—”
Not stolen, Tebriel. You will travel as a horse trader, and we will be your wares. Such fine mounts as we should give you entree into any palace on Tirror.
“And may I ask where I have secured such horses? And what you mean to do if someone buys you? What—”
Seastrider’s look silenced him. You will call yourself a prince from the far southern land of Thedria, which lies beyond the vast expanse of sea and has no commerce with these lands. The dark knows little of that place, I think, for we have sensed no evil from that far continent. You will steal appropriate clothes for a prince, and you will enter the strongholds of the dark in style. And, she said, tossing her head, if we are bought, Tebriel, no matter. No stable or fence or stone prison can hold us.
“Well,” he said. “Well. . . all right. But how have I come to these continents? By rowboat over the wild seas hauling four horses?”
By seagoing barge, to barter your horses for gold. You are the Prince of the Horsemasters of Thedria.
She had it all worked out. Teb pointed out to her civilly that he had not intended to go among palaces but to slip quietly into the cities among the common folk, where he could gather information unnoticed by the dark rulers. If it was all the same to Seastrider, he did not want to make himself an object of immediate observation for the dark.
But if you are an object of great interest to the dark, Tebriel, do you not think the underground will be watching you even more closely? Do you not think they will be more than anxious to learn about you, and to learn which side you might favor, this very rich and mysterious prince? It will be much easier to let the underground soldiers come to you, Tebriel, than to try to search them out in strange cities.