Draka

I took a quick look down the new drain in our cellar before they left, confirming that I could fit between the bars with ease. It was stonework all the way down, as far as I could tell, and I wondered again just how they’d gotten it done so quickly. The obvious answer was “magic craftsmen,” but still!

I also deliberately avoided wondering what they’d paid for it.

The drain slanted down to the storm drains which were, of course, half full of water. The city was several square miles, and while much of it drained into the river, most went into the drains. There were only a few, three or possibly four, outlets, and being in the mercantile district, near the harbor, we were near one.

I decided to turn back. I couldn’t go onto or into the water; it played all kinds of havoc with my magic, exhausting me quickly and forcing me to Shift back. The newly built drain that I was in was at most a foot and a half wide, and I had no interest in finally finding out what would happen if I Shifted back in a space where I couldn’t physically fit. I’d done it under a bed once, and it had been knocked into the air with some force. With only stone and packed earth around me, though, I suspected that my body would yield before the walls did. And while I could have gone into the water and Shifted back there, that would have forced me to go out through an outlet and then back to the inn. Fine if I was leaving, but for now I wanted to get back inside as fast as possible.

After again telling them all how happy their gift made me, my humans returned upstairs. All except for Herald and Mak, whom I asked to stay behind, which they gladly did.

“Right, so, let’s start with the most important thing,” I told them. “Kira and Ardek? Am I reading that right?”

“Ah… we think so?” Herald said tentatively, turning to Mak, who nodded. “I do not think that anyone has asked them outright—”

“Yeah. Not even Tam,” Mak added.

“Right. Not even Tam. We are all curious but do not want to… somehow spoil it, I suppose. They are so cute together!”

“Yeah. Don’t want to make them self-conscious. But they’ve been spending a lot of time together. All the time they can, really,” Mak said, turning to Herald. “And they’ve been very touchy for the last, what? Two weeks? Three? Since before Draka left.”

“About that, yes,” Herald confirmed.

“And they really like each other?” I asked. “Kira really likes him? It’s not just his Advancement?”

“Nah,” she said confidently. “Lots of people like Ardek. Kira is the only one making moon-eyes at him.”

“I’m pretty sure I caught them kissing in the kitchen a few days ago,” Mak said. “But I don’t think it’s gone any further than that. Kira hasn’t asked me or anyone else about… you know. At least as far as I know.” She mimed drinking something and looked at Herald, who blushed.

“The maiden’s friend?”

“That, yes. And I know that she has a background as a midwife’s apprentice, so she should know better.”

“Ah. About that,” I said. There must have been something in my tone, because they both suddenly looked at me very intently. “Kira may have told me that she really, really wants to have kids. A lot of them. And I told her that I won’t get in the way of her being happy.”

“Oh.” Mak’s voice was flat as she looked in the direction of the stairs. “Perhaps I should have a word with her? Just in case? Make sure that she’s sure?”

“Ardek, too,” Herald said. “If something is going on, he should know.”

“Yeah,” Mak sighed. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Herald agreed.

“Tomorrow,” I echoed. “If that’s what they want, though… don’t pressure them, all right? Just make sure they’ve thought it through and talked about it. Which, I mean… can they really talk to each other?”

Mak shook her head. “Gods only know. Kira’s Karakani is getting better, but she’s like a four-year-old on her best days. And Ardek’s Tekereteki is… well, I’m impressed he’s learned any at all in the time since he started.”

We looked at each other. “Ah,” Herald said. “Maybe you should talk to them sooner. Like right now. Just in case.”

The next day I woke with the Need really starting to make itself known, the threads that would lead me to distant Nest Hearts strong in my awareness. I forced it down; it was an annoyance, nothing more.

That day we sent a reply to Sempralia’s letter. It was just me and Mak in the cellar, with everyone else keeping busy despite the rain that just kept falling — Herald was out, following Kesra around. I didn't like it, and she didn't like being out in the rain, but she was also pretty damn well suited for the job, and she had insisted. She wanted the practice, she said.

We planned a simple message, saying that I would be more than happy to meet with the lady justice, and that there were things I wanted to discuss with her. Things that had come to light after I departed, and which I would very much have preferred to know about beforehand.

“Tell her that we can meet in the same place as our first meeting,” I told Mak. My handwriting was atrocious, despite my practice, while hers was practically a work of art. “And that we can decide on a time once the rain lets up.”

Mak’s pen stopped, and she looked up from the small writing desk she’d brought into the cellar. “Are you sure that you want to put it off for that long?” she asked. “Or do you mean that we should try to arrange it for a lull?”

“What?”

“You know, the…” she trailed off. “Oh, right. You don’t know, do you? Draka, the rains won’t stop for some time. We hadn’t expected them for a while yet, but now that they’ve started it could be weeks!”

“Weeks? It’s going to keep raining for weeks!?”

“Well, yes. It’s like this every year. Isn’t that true where you’re from?”

“Nah! I mean, there are months that are wetter than others, and sometimes you’ll have four or five days in a row and catch a couple of inches, but not like this! Fuck me dead, Mak, this is some Darwin shit!”

Mak blinked at me rapidly. The corners of her mouth spasmed, her face contorting as she fought to keep herself from grinning. I got the distinct impression that she wanted to say something heinous, but she got herself under control, barely. “I’m going to assume that you don’t mean that literally. And I have no idea what a ‘Darwin’ is.”

“I’m not sure I want to know where your mind just went, Mak.” I looked at her impassively, doing my best not to give anything away. Not that it mattered when she could feel what I did. Every so often she would jerk, little hiccups of suppressed laughter that got closer and closer until she was practically vibrating, her eyes shut tightly so that she couldn’t see the oh-so serious face I was making. “You’re thinking something dirty, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” she tittered, clamping down hard to keep from breaking down.

“We’re writing a serious letter here, you know? Important stuff. Official correspondence or whatever with a lady justice.”

“Mmm-hm! Sorry!”

There were tears at the corners of her eyes, and I decided that this had gone on for long enough. “It’s fine if you laugh at me, you know that, right?” I told her. “And you know better than anyone that I’m not thin-skinned. I don’t need to know what’s going through your head, but Mercies’ sake, let it out before you kill yourself!”

That finally broke the dam, and she broke into hiccuping laughter. Kneeling as she was, she first folded forward, then lay down sideways on the floor, whining and yelping with laughter over some joke only she understood. Every so often she’d squeak “Fuck me—!” or open her eyes and catch a glimpse of me, and she’d break into renewed laughter.

I both wished that I knew what she was laughing about, and was glad that I didn’t. I suspected that the fact that what I’d said could be interpreted as an order had something to do with it, but from her reaction I was almost afraid to ask.

Once she’d calmed down I lay down, resting my head on the stones in front of her. “You all right there, Mak?”

“I’m— I’m fine,” she huffed, still grinning.

I couldn’t help but smile back. “You’ve gotten a lot more relaxed since I’ve known you, you know that? Ever since you took that Advancement, really. You never used to joke much while I was around. You certainly never would have laughed at me like you did just now. And there was that prank last night with the knife. Where’s this all coming from?”

She casually reached out and rubbed the nub where my left horn was growing back in. “Should I not?” she asked. Not nervously, just asking for instructions.

“I don’t mind at all. The knife thing freaked some of the others out, but c’mon, it was funny! Though I suppose it was mostly funny at their expense, so maybe not too much of that. But, yeah. I like this side of you. I just never expected it.”

She hummed happily. “I suppose that I am more relaxed. Especially lately. You telling me to get more sleep did wonders for me. I didn’t sleep well for years, you know that? Always too much to do, too much to worry about. Now things still get done, but I somehow get a couple of hours of extra sleep each night. I’ll think, ‘Oh, I should go to bed!’ and I just do it. And then, miracle of miracles, I fall asleep! Even these last two days, with all the chaos. Perhaps I leave some of the worrying to you. I may be the head of the family, officially, but we both know how things stand, and so do the others. So I just… I let you be the responsible one. Even if I’m the one making the decisions and giving the orders, I know that if anything goes wrong I can rely on you to fix it.”

Her smile turned a little guilty. “Sorry. Perhaps that makes me a bad… whatever I am to you. Expecting you to clean up any mess I make that’s too big for me to handle. But I feel safe. Knowing that you’re out there, feeling your satisfaction, your happiness, even your annoyance and your rage, it gives me a sense of calm and security that I haven’t felt since my father died.” There was a long pause, and she asked, “Did we ever tell you about him?”

“No.”

“I think you would have liked him. He was so kind and gentle, but he was a big man. He was tall — Herald had to get it from somewhere — and he was so strong. Even as a foreigner from a hated enemy nation, nobody dared to anger him. I always thought that he was invincible.”

She sighed. “Then he got sick, and he died. Things were bad for so many years, and I was so afraid. All the time, you know? Keeping a roof over our heads, keeping everyone fed and clothed, I was so afraid that I’d fail them and… Well, you heard Tark. I did things I’m not proud of, for a meal or a gift or just for money, so that Tam and Herald could have just a little bit more. I’d like to say that I’m not ashamed, of anything I did, but I’ve been lying to Herald about it for years, so… yeah. And then there was Val, and Lalia and Garal, and things got better. We had enough money for three meals a day and all for a while, but that brought a different fear, you know? A fear that we’d lose it all, or that someone would get hurt so bad that I couldn’t help them. And then Tam got into trouble. I could see everything crashing down… and you saved us. I couldn’t admit it to myself at the start. I only saw another new fear, of losing Herald to something I didn’t understand. But all you did was to save us. You saved our lives, and Tam’s freedom, and you brought us wealth and social standing and…”

She was smiling again by that point, and sniffling. The stone her cheek rested on was wet. “I know that my thoughts and feelings are not my own when it comes to you. And I don’t care. I don’t care, because I’m not afraid any more. Even while the Cranes were breaking down our door I wasn’t afraid. I knew that you’d come. I could feel your worry, and I could feel you getting closer, and I knew that we only needed to hold on until you got here. Even if we had to fall back to the cellar, you’d come, and we’d be fine. And, I know, they left before you arrived. It doesn’t matter. If I hadn’t known that you were coming, if the others hadn’t known that help was on its way, we might have despaired and given in. But we didn’t. Because we have you, and fear… It’s not an enemy. Fear belongs to you, just like we do. It doesn’t touch us anymore.”

She sniffled loudly, then let out a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. I’m rambling, and I’m being melodramatic. I’ve been afraid. Of course I have. I’ve been terrified. In the beginning, and when you took me flying, and when you got hurt… but I haven’t lived in fear. I haven't had that weight crushing me for months, now, and it's thanks to you. Understand?”

I’d laid there, silently listening as she bared her heart, and I didn’t know what to say. So instead I shuffled up closer and cocooned us both inside my wings, wrapping myself around her. If someone had come down the stairs while we lay there, I wouldn’t have cared. They’d find out about the dragon in the cellar sooner or later. It may as well be today. The letter lay half finished on the writing desk. It could wait.

I don’t know how long we lay there. Not too long. But we lay in silence long enough for me to gather my thoughts and put them in order, and to make peace with how I felt. And finally, after searching my heart to make sure that I was being honest with myself and with her, I found the right words.

“I forgive you, Mak.”

She didn’t go stiff with surprise. She didn’t ask me if I was serious, or if I was joking. She didn’t say anything. There was no need; she could feel what I felt. All she did was to bury her face in the scales of my long neck and cry, with great, heaving, silent sobs.

“I love you, little dragon, and I forgive you.”

We managed to finish up the letter and send it out. We left it to Sempralia to suggest a location which, by her judgment, should be acceptable to both parties, and at her earliest convenience. Ardek volunteered as messenger, running up to the Palace and delivering our letter himself, along with the one Sarvalian sent with me. He had firm instructions not to hand over either unless it was to the lady justice personally. He told us later that he’d waited there for over an hour, until finally Kalder, Sempralia’s personal guard, came to escort him.

Ardek happily admitted that he’d been utterly terrified. The lady justice had, apparently, been amused.

Her reply came early the next day. She offered to meet the day after that, on the roof of the tallest building — not counting towers — in the upper city. After my visit to the Forum, as she put it, there was little need to leave the city for our meeting.

I didn’t really know the building. I’d seen it from the air, of course. It was a large, imposing building which reminded me of a cathedral from back on Earth, with a high wall separating it from the rest of the city. Val told me that it was ancient, almost untouched by the cataclysm and thought to once have been a palace. Now it belonged to the city, and no one knew much beyond that. It was strictly off limits. But since we’d be on the roof, no one had any objections to it as a meeting place.

I didn’t distrust Sempralia anymore, as such. I’d cooled down. I needed some answers from her, but I didn’t think that she’d do anything stupid. I still took a quick, miserable recon flight the night before the meeting, circling the fortress on the hill a few times. The roof space we’d use belonged to the central building, about a hundred yards long and thirty wide. It was wide open, with two cupolas as wide as the building at each end of the long, rectangular space. No place for anyone to hide except for behind those cupolas. It would do.

When I arrived for the meeting, eight or nine hours later, they’d set up an open-sided pavilion made of what looked like sail cloth to keep the rain off. It only covered about a quarter of the roof, leaving most of it wide open for an easy landing. I appreciated that; the rain, as always, had me in a bit of a mood, and I didn’t want to stay in it for longer than necessary.

The pavilion turned out to be tall enough that I could sit up straight and even spread my wings comfortably. I came in fast, landing hard and making half the poor humans there jump when I skidded the last few yards into the shelter. It probably didn’t help that I came in with my body low, ready to continue right through them if I didn’t like what I saw. That was the problem with the pavilion; I hadn’t been able to see who or how many of them there were.

Fortunately for all of us the first two people I saw were the lady justice and her bodyguard Kalder. They were not, of course, alone. Besides a handful of people who were obviously just guards or scribes, I recognized three others. The first was the same secretary Sempralia had brought with her to our first meeting, whose name I didn’t quite remember. The remaining two were the commander of the city guard and the councilor I’d spoken to in the Forum.

The rain and the nagging Need already had me irritable, and I felt a rush of intense annoyance at the uninvited participants, to the point where I considered just leaving. This was supposed to be a meeting between myself and Sempralia, to discuss things that were just between us. What the hell was the point of meeting on a damn rooftop if she was going to bring along whoever she felt like?

But I wanted this meeting. I wanted to know what she had to say for herself, and I wanted to know what it was they needed my help with. And, in fairness, it wasn’t as though I was alone, myself.

There was a tension in the air. I couldn't tell if it had already been there or if I’d caused with my landing. Maybe they picked up on my annoyance. It certainly wasn’t helped by Mak, who’d been half choking the life out of me as she held on, sliding off my back.

Whatever the cause of the tension, I didn’t let it rattle me. I’d been advised to always be honest with the lady justice. She was about to get a heaping pile of honesty.