He formed a bed of straw and lay down on it. Prima brought some more straw and joined him. Now he smelled her body odor over that of the environment. She must not have washed in years! But probably that was not her fault; the captors seemed to have little concern for the hygiene of their captives.
She made as if to take off his clothing, and he demurred with a curt gesture even the dragon could not mistake. Then she removed her worn shirt, showing her haltered bosom. It was a good one, considering her age. She took his hand and brought it to her halter, and he drew his hand back, but with less force than before. Thus the dragon could see that she was making some progress.
However, he was evidently tired, and dropped into his feigned sleep without being seduced. Prima dug in his pack and brought out his blanket-pac, unfolding it and spreading it over him. He had feared that its magic would be inoperative here, so that its thinness would offer no protection against the cooling night, but it remained effective. Then she rested quietly beside him, seeming a bit frustrated but patient.
He had almost fallen asleep for real when she murmured, “Now.”
He had the two matches in his hand. He brought one slowly out, his arm motion screened by his body and hers, and struck it against the hard wood under the straw. First it sputtered, then it caught. He moved it under more straw, setting fire to it. He nudged the straw away from him so that he would not be burned. He was in luck; there was a slight breeze, and it not only fanned the nascent flame; it moved it away from him.
Prima waited until the fire was well established. Then she screamed. It was a truly piercing sound; it was all he could do to maintain his pretense of sleep. Would the dragon believe that the scream hadn’t jolted him awake?
Prima ran for the other end, shouting in what seemed to be the dragon language and pointing back at the fire. The dragon’s head snapped up, the big eyes blinked, and the gate swung open to let her out.
Darius scrambled up and caught the strap of his pack as he launched himself after her. The gate began to swing closed, but Prima wasn’t clear of it, and it couldn’t complete the motion. Then he came through, sweeping his free arm around her waist, and rammed onto the side of the cage.
The dragon had been caught by surprise, and had made the mistake they had hoped for, but now its hunter reflexes came into play. It leaped forward, intercepting the two of them and shoving them back and down with its nose. But Darius clambered over its nose, lifting Prima with him, and they tumbled to the other side of the dragon. The dragon turned to snap at them, its jaws opening—and they rolled into the next Mode. It looked the same as the other, but there was no fire and no dragon. Only the light of the moon and stars. It was as if the fire and dragon had ceased to exist. Actually they had never existed, in this Mode.
“Don’t let go of me!” Prima gasped.
He had been about to. Instead he tightened his grip around her waist. “Are you sure we have to maintain contact if we’re not actually crossing Modes?”
“No, but it’s a strong likelihood. I’ve been trapped for twenty years; I don’t want to be trapped for the next twenty.”
“But I have pulled you into my Virtual Mode,” he argued. “You should stay on it now.”
“We must talk,” she said. “Until then, do not let go of me. Let’s get away from here; there are surely other dragons, because this is an adjacent Mode, almost identical to the one we left.”
Sure enough, he saw the outline of a dragon approaching. It looked just like the one they had escaped, but it was beyond several cages. They needed to get away from this entire set of Modes.
Arms around one another’s waist, like lovers, they walked into the next Mode. The dragon vanished. They continued to walk, until the cages shrank and finally disappeared. The landscape looked the same, in the dim moonlight, but there was now no sign of artificial structures.
“We had better tie ourselves together,” he said as they paused. “Otherwise we could lose contact by accident, if we are surprised.” He set down the pack, wondering how to put it on without letting go of her.
“There’s no cord in your pack, and I have none,” she said.
“Maybe I can tear off a sleeve of my shirt, and use that,” he suggested. Why hadn’t he thought to carry a good length of cord? Its advantage was obvious.
“You may need that to protect your arm from the sun.” She considered a moment. “I have something. Put your arms around my waist.”
He did so. She turned within his grasp, so that she faced away from him. Then she leaned forward, reached behind her, up inside her shirt, and untied her halter. The front of it, loosened, dropped down against his hands. She reached inside the front and hauled it out, leaving him with her breasts on his hands. He was too startled to react. This woman was of his Mode?
They linked arms, his left to her right, hands clasping forearms, the halter bound around the wrists in the middle. It wasn’t ideal, and if they fell they could wrench their arms, but they were unlikely to let go by accident.
“As I recall, it requires more than a day to walk to your anchor, and this is night,” she said. “It will be better to find a secure place to sleep.”
“That may be a problem. I have lost my sword, and have only one match left. A high place may be subject to predator birds, and a low place to predator reptiles. I saw each kind during my journey out.”
“Yes. We had better make weapons. I would also like to bathe.”
That was a relief! Her odor had been bad in the cage; now it was overwhelming. The folk of his Mode were normally scrupulous about cleanliness; he was glad to learn that she remained true to form.
“I passed a mountain lake not far back.”
“Were there trees nearby?”
“Yes. Not any variety I know.”
“Let’s go there first. Then perhaps we can hide in a tree, after we talk.”
She seemed to have a better notion how to proceed than he did, so he agreed. He realized that this was good experience; what he was learning now should help him rescue Colene.
They moved on to the lake, proceeding carefully and quietly in the darkness. When they reached it they stripped, but remained linked. More correctly, they remained linked and tried to strip. Their shirts could not pass their linked arms. So they walked into the chill water and washed in tandem, he standing in front with his left arm reaching back, she with her right arm reaching forward. She held his shirt and other clothing while he washed. Then he held the bundle of their clothing while she stepped forward and washed. He felt distinctly awkward putting his hands on her shirt, halter, skirt, and diaper, but it was necessary. This reminded him that Colene had not used diapers; she had had almost sheer panties that barely sufficed for concealment. But she normally wore trousers, so that her undergarment could never be seen by accident. The purpose of diapers, of course, was to cushion the secret region from gaze and touch, making it unfeasible to see the shape of it. Now he was seeing everything, in a manner normally reserved only for one about to undertake sexual contact. But this was a very special situation.
Unable to do much else, he stared mostly into darkness while she washed. After she got the caked grime loose, she rinsed her hair, and though it remained tangled, it assumed better color. It was not proper of him, but linked as he was to her, it was difficult for him not to glimpse her body in the moonlight. He saw that she was lean rather than plump, but her posterior was well rounded and her breasts were of adequate mass. Kublai had said she was not a pretty woman—no, he had said she was not remarkable in appearance or personality, which wasn’t quite the same—and that was true. But she had evidently had the stamina to survive twenty years of captivity and retain her ability to speak her native language, and to act promptly to escape when the opportunity presented itself. That spoke well for her personality, and in the appropriate apparel her body would be attractive enough. Perhaps he had been comparing her to a young beauty, such as Colene, which was unfair.