Draka

I set out that night planning to be away for a few days, and I’d told the others as much. I’d made a point of telling Kira and Ardek, too. I wanted them to feel included. Ardek didn’t care much about me coming and going without a word, since he was “enjoying all this sneak-around-corners and investigation dreck,” as he put it. Kira, though, seemed genuinely pleased that I’d thought of her, and assured me that she would be just fine at the inn. She’d been getting to know the staff, apparently, though they could barely speak five words to each other. She really could get along with anyone, and with not a single advancement to back her up, either.

She’d found a way to contribute, too. Mak had set her up with a magic license, claiming her as a refugee from Tekeretek and a guest of House Drakonum, which was mostly true. Now, with Tam, Mak, and Herald’s help, she was healing people in the inn a few times per day. The patient paid whatever they could afford — with an occasional nudge from Mak — and Kira seemed happy with that. Of course, offering cheap healing brought with it the risk of a line out the door, and she could only heal so much before exhaustion set in. It was a balancing act between letting her feel that she was doing what she could, and not inviting trouble from people who were angry that she couldn’t help them until she’d had some good rest. The others were gatekeeping access to her pretty hard, as I understood it, and asking her patients not to spread the word. I figured it was only a matter of time before we started seeing that line, but I wasn’t going to complain or get in her way until there was an actual problem. She’d been setting aside a third of her earnings as my cut, too. I wasn’t sure if that was her own idea, or if one of the others had suggested it. Either way she didn’t seem to mind, and I was very, very pleased.

Before my talk with Tam I’d almost changed my mind about going more than once, and Mak and Herald had to insist and reassure me that they’d all be fine. That I always had a place there, and that I was always welcome and wanted, but that I didn’t have to be nearby all the time. When I kept dithering Mak dropped some reality on me: If something happened, unless I was right there, I was unlikely to make a difference. They needed to move around the city during the day. Was I going to stalk them in the shadows all the time? I’d been about to say that I could easily do just that, but thankfully I stopped myself. Thinking it was creepy enough.

Once I was in the air it got easier. There was something about being in that inn that made me want to stay. Perhaps it was the sense of familiarity of just being inside a building, ancient as it was compared to everything I remembered from Earth. Perhaps it was just that I could smell my people there. Whatever it was, high up in the cool night sky I could tell myself that they would all be fine, and that I’d be back in a few days, and I steered north.

Rather than going straight back to my mountain and hunting in my own territory that surrounded it, I decided to go farther afield. I had my village to consider now, after all. While there weren’t many mouths to feed, every animal that I killed and ate was one less for them, making each of their hunts just a little bit harder. Their situation was precarious as it was, and while I wasn’t going to step in and do everything for them unless they were truly desperate, like with their tools and seeds, there was no reason I shouldn't try to avoid making things worse.

I took a young deer buck a few miles from the coast. I eviscerated it and ate the best bits on the spot, carrying the rest with me back to the cave. I didn’t bother with a fire. I’d eaten enough cooked food lately that I was almost sick of it. It was nice, for sure, especially when I was together with the family, eating the same things as them. Being a big social ritual and all that, it was a nice thing to be a part of. But even if my mind felt mostly human I was still half dragon, and sometimes I just needed to rip and tear and devour my meat raw, hot, and bloody, and that was what I did. I sat under the stars on the ledge outside my cave, with the forest stretching out before me and my shadow dancing around me, and I laid into that deer until all that remained were cracked and bloody bones. I Shifted myself clean afterwards; I loved being able to do that. Then I dragged myself down into the cave and curled up on my hoard. I snuggled into my bed of coins, running my fingers over and through them, listening to them clink and jingle as I breathed deep of the wonderful scents of silver and gold. Gods above, this was what it meant to be a dragon!

I let myself drift off, and was dead to the world.

Jekrie was dreaming. His dreams were more settled than the last time I saw him like this, but still filled with worries about monsters, armed strangers, and a cold, hungry winter. That annoyed me more than it probably should have. I had just told him that I was going to do something to help them, and here he was, worrying!

I needed to send a message, or reassure him, or something. My words to him last time had affected him deeply, and when I spoke to Barro he’d gotten my message to come see me at the Favour. Talking clearly worked. It just didn’t feel like enough, and I wondered if I could do more.

I stilled my mind, and let Instinct guide me. It was such a wonderful thing to be able to do. I remembered being fully human and sometimes having a horrible stream of noise in my brain, one topic after another, and no way to make it stop other than making myself so exhausted I fell asleep. That or drinking far too much. Being able to just not have to listen to that was a blessing.

I looked at Jekrie’s dream, and it offended me. And why should I tolerate that? Without my useless doubts telling me that what I was doing was impossible, and with just the slightest effort, I inserted myself into the dream, the confusion settling down around me.

I towered above Jekrie. This was no longer his dream. With two swipes of my mighty claws I reduced the enemies he feared to so much steaming meat, and with a flex of my will I made the fields grow green with crops.

“Jekrie,” I purred, and he prostrated himself before me on the bloody earth, my shadow stalking around him. “Wasn’t I with you just yesterday? Has anything threatened you since then, for you to be so afraid?”

“No, Great Lady!” He spoke into the soil, but I heard him perfectly.

“Didn’t I tell you that I would clear the ruins of your old homes? Won’t that let you take what you need to prepare for winter?”

“With luck it will, Great Lady.”

“And if not, don’t you trust that I will provide for you some other way? Do you think that I’d abandon my people to freeze and starve?”

“No, of course not, Great Lady!”

I huffed at him. His tone didn’t match his words. He clearly still doubted, and I was annoyed. But I’d forgive him. We hadn’t known each other for long, after all. I’d just have to show him.

“In a few days we will deal with the trolls, and you’ll see that you have been right to join me,” I told him. “After that, if anything threatens you, let me know. If you lack anything that you can’t live without, let me know. I’ve promised to protect you, and I will. Now, is there anything you need to tell me?”

“No, Great Lady. Nothing important.”

“Anything unimportant?”

He hesitated. “The children, Great Lady. They miss Kira.”

I laughed. “I need her to stay in the city, for now. Sorry. But I’ll tell her. I think she liked them.”

Without waiting for a reply, I kind of… stepped back. I was outside Jekrie’s dream again looking in, and whatever stability I’d brought into it dissolved back into the confusion of a normal dream. But I saw with satisfaction that it was a much calmer and less anxious confusion. Not calm, but calmer.

But I didn’t just move on, so… now what? Last time I’d just kind of floated with no direction. Now I seemed to be stuck here with Jekrie, with no idea of how to move on or even end this lucid dream I was in.

Herald had been very disappointed in me for not even making an effort to figure out my limits. I wasn’t going to repeat that mistake. And I was rapidly becoming bored, so I decided to work on that.

I thought about Herald. That on its own wasn’t enough, but a little push was all it took, and I was looking at her and some man I didn’t recognise in a soldier’s uniform. Kissing, and thankfully nothing more.

I turned and ignored the dream with equal parts jealousy and embarrassment. I was not going to be telling her about this. Frantically I tried Mak instead, but nothing happened, no matter how I tried. Maybe she was still awake? It didn't matter, I needed to move on before something mortifying happened. My thoughts went to Kira, and I threw myself at the image of her, willing myself—

Kira walked in a field of bone and ashes, looking lost. She didn’t cry, or scream, or make any sound at all. She just looked empty, her face blank, like she’d given up.

In a fit of indignation I broke through. I descended on her, picking her up before she could protest or even react, and took her away. Not to anywhere in particular, just away from this awful purgatory she’d made for herself.

“Draka, what is this?” Her voice came strong and clear, the wind doing nothing to dampen it.

“I’ll not have one of mine give up. I don't know if that's what this is, but I won’t have it. Things will get better for you. I’ll make sure of it.”

“How?”

“Friends and purpose, I guess. We’ll start with the first, and then we’ll figure out the other. Ah, there!”

The inn sat in a green, peaceful field in the middle of nowhere. Which made perfect sense in a dream, of course. It’s location didn't matter. It was full of warmth and life, and it was a somewhat familiar place, which was what I wanted for Kira. I set her down outside. No one inside the open door remarked on the fact that there was a dragon outside.

“Go on. Inside with you. Have a drink. Flirt with someone. I’m sure you’ll all understand each other just fine. It’s your dream. And when you wake up, make sure to keep working on your Karakani.”

“All right.” She looked inside with trepidation.

I turned to leave, then remembered something. “Jekrie says that the kids miss you, by the way.”

“Oh!” was all she said, and she didn’t even try to hide her smile.

I stayed and made sure that she went inside. I had no way of knowing if her dream would continue where I’d left her once I was gone, but if nothing else it would be interesting to see what she’d have to say. I hadn’t actually asked Jekrie or Barro about their experiences. Would they actually remember anything, or would they only be left with impressions, perhaps subconscious directions pushing them to do what I wanted? I’d have to speak with them.

Herald would be terribly disappointed with me if I didn’t.

In the name of science I tried just drifting. Without any particular person in mind I tried to let go of Kira, to see what would happen. Even if I just woke up, that would still be useful to know. The field and the inn slowly faded.

The whole dreamscape lurched. I was looking down on a street, infinitely long, stretching to the horizon in either direction and with indistinct buildings on either side. A man was running, alone, but his legs were moving slowly and with great strain, solid shadow like globs of tar making his feet stick to the cobbles. Like when I’d dreamt of Ramban his face was indistinct, but no matter how his features shifted there was wild-eyed panic on it, and he tried to stay in whatever little specks of light he could find, cast by street lights and the occasional window. One of the thugs who’d attacked the Barleans, perhaps? But again, just like with Ramban, the whole dream felt slick. I thought I might be able to hold on to it with some effort, but it didn’t feel worth it. Relkin and then Sana, the two kids my family had taken into the inn, flickered past, and even Simdal, whom I hadn’t really thought about since we let him go, but they were all too slippery to grasp.

I decided to make one final effort and try Barro, but when I did I just, for lack of a better word, stuttered. I didn’t have the gas. I let go entirely and tried again, in case that made a difference, but nothing happened. Instead I felt myself losing my grip on my own dream. I didn’t feel tired; I was already asleep. But my control slowly slipped, until the dream turned from lucid to normal, and then to nothing.

I couldn’t tell how long I spent in my cave digesting my meal. When I wasn’t lucid it was hard to tell dreams from reality with that much meat in my belly, but I kept going from sleep to brief wakefulness. When I woke properly the Need was back. At the same time I was the most well-rested I’d been for weeks. My body felt strong and healthy, and my mind clear. Taking advantage of that clarity, I didn’t rise right away. Instead I stayed on my hoard, thinking about what had happened.

I had gone dreamwalking again, stepping into people’s dreams. I’d been trying to do it, and I’d had some measure of control. I really did need to know why it worked this time, though, so I decided to see if I could figure anything out.

It could have been a complete coincidence that it happened, and I couldn’t discount the possibility. But assuming that it wasn’t, three things were different from the other times I’d slept since the first time it happened. The first was probably not a factor: I’d eaten a ton of meat before I slept, but there was just no way to connect that to the first time. The second difference was that I’d slept on my hoard, which I’d also done the first time. That did already have an effect on me, allowing me to heal and recover faster, so maybe it did more. The third, which seemed most likely, was that I’d eaten that Nest Heart. It had filled me with something. That something was gone now, and I felt that hunger that I could finally put a name to. I wanted another one. It wasn’t overpowering, but I felt like something was missing. After the first time I dreamwalked I woke up with the same need. Perhaps these dreams used some kind of resource or energy, and the first time I dreamwalked I’d spent whatever I had. Then, and now, I needed to replace it.

That felt right, but not with the certainty that I sometimes felt other things. I’d just have to wait until I found another Heart and see what happened.

I got off my hoard and returned to the entrance. I emerged to a dark, dreary afternoon, with heavy rain cutting visibility to a mile or less. Absolutely miserable, in other words, but I was far too proud and lively to let it stop me. I’d just have to suck it up and endure. I’d had a plan of going to find another Nest Heart, but while I didn’t know how long I’d been in torpor I knew that it must have been two or three days, and making sure that everyone was all right had to take priority.

First, after having a big drink at the stream and then taking care of necessities, I checked on the village. They were right there, after all. There was another log house finished. Getting a whole house built in a few days was amazing to me, even if it looked simple and possibly temporary, but I didn’t know anything about construction, here or anywhere else. Maybe that was totally normal. Either way, no one was outside, to my complete lack of surprise, and I decided to leave them be. Talking to Jekrie wasn’t important enough to drag them outside, or go in and drip water onto their hopefully dry floors.

Instead I got back up and made my way to the city. I didn’t bother with the sewers or the tunnels, which were beyond a doubt flooded by now. Instead I relied on the rain to cover me as I flew to the abandoned garden where I Shifted, then made my way to the inn from there. Being Shifted in the rain was an unpleasant experience. Whatever I’d taken from the Heart was gone, and I no longer had that effortless lightness it had given me. Besides, the drops fell through me rather than hitting me, and every single one just felt wrong, like a pin being pushed softly through my soul. Not painful, but unpleasant. Luckily, I could feel that both of my sisters were at the inn, and it didn’t take long before Mak opened the cellar door for me.

One advantage of moving in the rain while Shifted, unpleasantness aside: I didn’t drip on the floor.

“We were starting to wonder,” Mak said as she closed the door behind me. When she turned around she looked a little harried, but she gave me a knowing smile. “Three days is a long time for you to be away from Herald.”

“Don’t pretend that you wouldn’t sleep for three days straight if you could,” I countered, heading for the strongroom. “Sit with me for a while?”

“Sure. Herald’s busy with Reben. He’s teaching her to handle accounts.”

“He’s turning her into an accountant? The horror!”

Mak grinned as she fished out the keys and unlocked the heavy door. “I doubt that. She hates it. But she also went out alone yesterday, and this is her punishment.”

Inside I plopped down on my little nest of cloth and stuffing and Mak, for the first time that I could remember, sat down with me, leaning against my side.

“Mercies, but you’re warm!” she said, snuggling in closer. “I can see why Herald likes this so much.”

“That’s me, yeah. Just a big heated cushion for chilly girls. Here.” I wrapped my wing over her so only her head was visible. “How’s that?”

“Should have tried this months ago, that’s how it is.”

“What’s gotten into you, anyway? You’re not usually this bold with me. I’m not complaining, mind you, just surprised!”

“We’re family, now, aren’t we?” She looked at me impishly from the cocoon I’d made for her. “Honestly, though, Herald keeps pushing me to be more familiar with you. She’s pushing all of us. Thinks it’s good for you. And you felt like you wouldn’t mind.”

I snorted. “That girl knows me too well. I do like it. I still remember being human, you know? It hasn’t been that long. And I miss the contact, just sharing closeness and body heat with someone I like.”

Mak looked at me hopefully, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that includes you. You’ve been off my shitlist for a while now. Don’t you know that?”

She sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head on my shoulder, looking peaceful and content. “Feeling it and hearing you say it aren’t the same.”

I was glad that she didn’t ask if I’d forgiven her. I wasn’t sure, myself. I definitely cared for her deeply. Hell, I might even love her. But I still bore the scars of the rage and the hate that I had felt for her in the days after her betrayal. Perhaps it would be as simple as saying those three, simple words, but I wasn’t ready, and she didn’t push.

She’d told me not so long ago that she wasn’t sure that she deserved to call herself my friend. I couldn’t imagine her working up the nerve to ask me to forgive her.

“So, what’s been going on while I was away?” I asked, wanting to take my mind off it. “How are you doing? Did you talk to Tam?”

“After your talk the other night? Yeah, and Val. Thank you for telling him the things I couldn’t. It’ll take them some time to understand, and I don’t know if we can ever tell them the full truth, which I hate, but I think they’ll accept the situation soon enough.”

“Great. Other than that?”

“Running the inn, mostly. Had to fire one of the girls for stealing this morning, and turn her over to the guard, which felt terrible. We caught her in the act and she didn’t even seem ashamed of it, so the decision was easy, just… yeah. Other than that… Keeping up with regulars, meeting suppliers, renewing agreements. Tam made a good deal with that wine merchant. Business is stabilizing. It’s down a little, but not too bad. On track to be nicely profitable for the month, and Kira’s helping with that — it looks like she’ll be contributing in a few silvers every week. And the rooms we can’t fill are coming to use, anyway. Tam and Val couldn't kick Ardek out of theirs and into an empty one fast enough once the place became ours.”

“I guess you stuck him in one of the cheap rooms?”

“Draka, please. Do you think so little of me? I stuck him in a regular room. The cheapest and the most expensive rooms are always rented out. It’s the regular ones that we always have two or three empty. Anyway, the kids seem to be settling—”

“Relkin and Sana, right?”

“Right. They’re doing all kinds of things right now, though mostly cleaning and running errands. We’ll figure out what they’re good at as we go, besides keeping their eyes open and picking pockets. And Kira, besides making us money, seems to be doing well. She’s learning new words every day, and getting along with the staff.

“But, most important: Barro found some things about the woman we followed. Looks promising. The house is owned by a merchant Family, but a minor one. House Tespril. And that House, he says, has more money than their business can easily explain.”

“Like maybe they're doing some heinous, illegal shit, or own a bunch of stuff through intermediaries?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Think we should pay that woman a visit?”

Mak grimaced. “If you can avoid implicating us…”

“I know, I know,” I said soothingly. “I’ll go on my own, yeah? And then I’ll bring her somewhere nice and secluded, where no one can hear us, and I’ll wait for you and Herald.”

“All right. Thank you.” Mak relaxed against me, then tensed and looked up at me urgently. “But only if it’s the right woman! Please be absolutely sure before you do anything!”

“I will, I will! Have a little confidence, will you?”

“I do, just… every time the Blossom comes up I feel this wave of excitement and anger from you. Don’t be hasty. Please?”

I sighed. “Yeah, fair. I promise.”

“Thank you. Now, if this lead on the Blossom turns out to be nothing, we could leave to deal with the trolls tomorrow. Though we should wait until the rain lets up. Val’s talked to some adventurer friends of his who’d be happy to watch the place for us in exchange for free room and board for a couple of weeks, and Reben knows some people he’s worked with before who don’t charge too much. Kira offered to contribute with free healing for whoever we hire on, as well, so they’ll watch her when she’s working. Between that and the supplies, the cost should still be low enough that we can turn a nice profit on five trolls. I know that isn’t the point, but… well, an Eagle’s an Eagle, right?”

“Right.” She was entirely correct, and I approved. “Any trouble?”

“We’ve had some people hanging around, possibly watching the place. Hard to say. Don't want to throw them out as long as they’re paying, either. Nobody's tried anything, thank the Mercies. Some of the staff have been getting curious about what’s going on when we shut ourselves up in the cellar. Otherwise… no trouble.”

“And you?”

Mak’s eyebrows rose. “Hmm?”

“How are you doing? You’ve talked a lot about everything that’s going on, and nothing about yourself.”

“Me? I’ve been keeping busy taking care of things, don't worry. I’m not slacking off. I’ve been trying to manage the others, like you said, and—”

“I know. And it sounds like you’re doing a great job. But I’m not asking what you’re doing, I'm asking how. You look tired. Are you all right?”

“Am I…” Mak blinked. “I’m… okay? I’m worried, I suppose. About what the Blossom might do. I don’t like that she hasn’t tried anything.”

“Yeah, me neither. She’s being too careful. Anything else?”

“I’m… yeah. I’m tired.” She laid back against me again.

“Not sleeping enough?”

“Not enough, and not well, no. Midnight to sunrise, maybe. A short nap here and there. Too much to do. And there’s still the nightmares.”

“I think the inn can manage without you for a while, if you want to stay here.”

She lay silent against me for a few seconds, then said, “I’d like that.”

She closed her eyes. I pulled my wing closer around her, and after less than a minute her breathing became slow and even.