it, with a kiss so strong and sweet I thought my heart would break. We held each other close for a long moment of utter silence. I remember my thoughts as though I stood there this moment—I would gladly die in this truth, with him.
I should have known it was too good to last.
We stood unmoving, drowned in that silent place of joy and pain mingled, until we heard someone shouting "Demons!" down the corridor.
Ah, well.
I stood at the edge of the dark winter wood in the deep night. The moon had set and dawn was yet distant, but I could smell him now. The longing that had drawn me there was grown large within my breast. I knew he was inside the large pile of cut stone that stood before me, but there was—ah, there was another smell that disturbed me greatly even as it sent a shiver through my wings. Faint, familiar yet never known before, wild and strong, so far beyond me I hardly dared even to breathe it in.
At first it kept me away, so deep went that scent into my soul, but I could not stay away. He was there, i walked around the piled stone until I found the place where his smell was strongest. Strangely, it was the sound that stopped me. I had forgotten, but when I heard it again the memory rushed over me.
I had forgotten the sounds he made when he slept. I knew the rhythm of his breathing as I knew my own heartbeat. Fear fell away as I moved close to the small patch of wood in the stone. I remembered that there had been such things in the place we had shared. Those had swung open. Perhaps there were the same?
I reached up and pulled.
Well, I had been dreaming about the demons that had attacked us, and I wake slowly from deep sleep, so it makes sense I'd have thought what I did. For I woke with a start at a strange noise.
There is was again, the sound that had wakened me.
Something was outside my window, pulling at the shutters trying to get in.
"Demons!" I shouted, hoping to goodness someone would hear me, scrambling out of my bed towards the door. I threw it open and shouted. "Vil, Aral, quick, it's demons, in here—"
Vilkas appeared, rumpled and weary but already ablaze, followed immediately by Aral. "Where? What? What's happened?" he rumbled.
Jamie and Rella came round the corner with a glass-sided lantern. "Where?" demanded Jamie, though I could see fear on his face.
"There's one at my window!" I said.
Rella snorted and the others relaxed. "It's being very restrained, don't you think? They don't usually both to knock."
I was a bit more awake by then, and a small measure of courage had returned. The noise had stopped as well.
I went sheepishly back into my room, followed first by Aral, then by Vil, then by Jamie and Rella who were muttering and laughing quietly to themselves. I lit the candle by my bed from the lantern—well, light gives courage, doesn't it?—then went to the window, lifted the latch and threw open the shutters.
I was promptly knocked onto my backside by the armoured head of a large friendly dragon the colour of new copper with eyes the blue of the sky in spring, or of a little healing flower—
"Salera!" I cried, delight warring with amazement as I drank in the sight of her.
To my everlasting astonishment, she looked me in the eye and said, very softly, "Sssahhrrairra."
Then she licked me.
I had been wandering ever since I escaped unnoticed from the College. The magnitude of my realisation, the knowledge that I was right and Berys had bewitched me for months, hit me like a physical blow and for a time I drifted vaguely away from Verfaren, mostly north and east, sleeping as little as I could for dread of the dreams that sleeping brought, and eating only enough to keep myself alive, for food had no savour. In a curiously detached way I began to fear for my own life.
That changed one evening, between one breath and another. I know not how long it had been since I had left Verfaren, but when I woke to myself again it was sudden, and as potent as cold water in the face. There seemed no reason for it—one moment I had been staring into the fire in an inn somewhere, the next I was ordering food and enjoying its taste, my mind vigorous and my own again.
I was most conscious that my vague fears for Marik's daughter Lanen had grown until I could deny them no longer. I must find her before Berys or Marik did, warn her, help her if I could. I prayed to the Lady that my strength would serve me so long, for even the act of prayer brought a sick feeling to my gut. I prayed the harder therefore, pleading my case to Mother Shia, for I had only my healing ability to provide me a living and I sought only to assist the young woman who had been so unjustly pursued by my old master.
After beseeching the Lady's aid, I turned my face south with utter certainty. It was as if her presence beat upon me from a distance, like the sun. I blessed the Lady in my deepest heart for her assistance and started walking. My gut was painful and distended, but I could not spare the time to heal it. I sought the lady Lanen now with all my strength. It was all there was in me to do.
I was caught so deep in the spell that I did not even question my too-easy knowledge of where in all the wide world Marik's daughter might be.
I scrambled to my feet, never taking my eyes off Salera. She was too big to come inside anymore, I thought sadly, until she folded her wings up small and sort of flowed over the sill into the room. So much came back to me—her way of moving, the feeling of being near her, and the fact that sharing a room with her was very like having a horse in the house, simply from the point of view of the available space. I didn't care. I had already thrown my arms about her neck when I realised that the others were still there.
Salera didn't seem to mind overmuch. In fact, she seemed curious. I glanced up to see the other four staring. I laughed, and Aral at least relaxed and laughed with me. "Will, she's glorious," she said, moving forward. "Would she let me touch her, do you think?"
I grinned. "Littling, this is Aral. She's a friend. Aral, this is Salera."
Aral held out her hand awkwardly, as to an unknown dog. Salera ignored it, of course, but she gazed at Aral for a long minute and then took a deep sniff of her. I'd seen her do that before, when she first met my sister Lyra. It was her way of learning a new person.
Aral said quietly, her voice heavy with wonder, "Salera, you are so beautiful. Will told us about you, but he never said how lovely you were."
Salera gently touched the tip of her long snout to Aral's nose, like a formal handshake; then she pulled away just a little. Aral reached out slowly—I was pleased, that was just the way to behave—and touched the copper-hued faceplate that was so close.
"It's warm! I mean, she's warm," said Aral, amazed. Salera seemed as interested in Aral as Aral was in her, so I left them to it and went over to the others. It wasn't far to go—Salera was managing to take up most of the room.
"You never mentioned that you had a pet dragon," said Jamie quietly. There was a quaver in his voice, but I couldn't tell if he was scared or amused. "I'd no idea the creatures were ever so friendly with people."
I laughed. "She's no one's pet, master, and I haven't seen her in many years." I turned back, it was hard to take my eyes from her. "Far too long, eh lass?" I said.
She made some kind of sound, as she used to. I always wondered back then if she was trying to speak. She'd spoken her name to me right enough, or something awfully close to it. I still didn't know what to make of that.
Vilkas stood stock-still by the door, watching everything that happened but keeping well out of it. It wasn't like him, but I got a better look at him when I went to light more candles. Shia, he looked exhausted. He nodded at me, murmured, "Some demon," and finally released the corona he'd summoned to him. When it was gone he looked like a man who was asleep standing up.