Dragon! Book One: Stealing the egg

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

An arrow spat into the tree trunk a handbreadth from his head. As Gareth’s eyes registered it, another arrow made the same sound on the other side of his head.

“Don’t you dare move,” a pleasant female voice ordered. “I can put the next one in either of your eyes if I want. But right now I just want you to stand very still and be quiet.”

Gareth had no doubt the archer could “place the next one in either of his eyes,” as threatened. He stood very still.

The goat took the opportunity to munch on some fresh tufts of grass, unconcerned as it watched the two people as if all of them were old friends. The dragon, however, reappeared from some blackberry brambles at the edge of the clearing, stood on its hind legs, wings spread, tail extended fully and teeth bared, ready to spit at the intruder. It inhaled and emitted a low hiss of anger. Then the red eyes shifted to the sky before it spit. It became even more agitated, the eyes moving between the archer and the sky as if it didn’t know which to spit at.

The goat backed a step away, its eyes centered on the small angry dragon as if it remembered the earlier attack.

“I’m not moving,” Gareth said what he hoped sounded like a clear voice.

“Neither am I. Those flying dragons up there see movement first, so we stay very still.”

The sound of leather-like wings beating the air drew his attention and as he listened it became louder. Gareth, who had been concentrating on the archer, glanced up in time to see a flash of dull green as a dragon flew past, low and fast. It was the first green dragon he’d seen.

Once the dragon flew on, a figure slowly stepped from nearby brambles bow in hand, another arrow nocked and ready to fly. “Call off your animal, Gareth.”

The dragon was creeping forward, ready to attack the intruder, neck fully extended. “Calm down, Blackie. It’s all right. Come over here beside my leg.”

The dragon hissed one last time. It darted to hide behind him, beady eyes peering at the newcomer from behind his leg with obvious distrust.

Gareth looked at the newcomer, too. The archer wore tall brown boots that rose nearly to her knees, loose pants the color of dirt, and a shirt of patterned greens. The garb blended into the background, nearly making her invisible until she moved. Long brown hair fell to her shoulders framing the sharp-featured face of a woman nearly as tall as he. A woman near middle age, or older, full of confidence in her easy manner.

She said, “Sorry about the dramatics back there, but I didn’t have much time. And I’m something of a show-off. You’re certainly not so much to look at, are you?”

“What’s that mean?” Gareth asked, trying to make his voice sound respectful, and failing as it sounded angry to his ears.

She stepped past him and reached for one of the arrows stuck in the tree. She worked it up and down until the point pulled loose. She examined it before placing it in a quiver hanging from the wide belt around her waist. Her hand went to the next arrow as she said, “I expected to find something special to be the cause all this excitement.” She laughed, “Maybe a man with two heads, or as tall as a tree, not someone barely past childhood. The whole countryside’s up in arms over you like nothing I’ve ever seen or heard of. Soldiers, the Brotherhood, bounty hunters, and even army dragons filling the skies.”

“What did you expect?”

“Sorry, I expected to find more than a beardless young man, a skinny goat, and a hatchling dragon, even if it is a black male unless I’m mistaken.”

“Are you hunting for me so you can earn the reward?”

“No. Friends sent me to find you. There’s a whole platoon of soldiers, and four monks of the Brotherhood waiting for you just over the crest of the next hill. They’re in a stand of oak trees beside the path, and they suspect you’re somewhere nearby. Keep your voice down or they’ll hear us talking and come running. Sorry about showing off with the arrows again, but I couldn’t have you shouting or running away right into their trap when that green dragon was so close. There are too many eyes and ears around here, especially above.”

Gareth didn’t move or say anything. The woman was an expert archer, perhaps a little taller than him, and she wore a knife at her hip the size of a small sword. Her clothing blended into the background of the forest. Everything about her suggested she lived in the forests and made her way without help. She was not afraid to fight. Her confidence showed in her posture and manner. However, her attitude implied she might help him, if only reluctantly.

She stepped closer and placed her palms on his cheeks, holding his head immobile while peering into his eyes. “Yes, you are right, I am here to help and no, it was not my idea. Now, stop thinking all of your thoughts so loud. It’s like you’re shouting. You’re blasting your thoughts everywhere, blocking out those of others, and drawing attention to yourself like never before. I can’t help and block any of them for you if you don’t cooperate.”

Gareth looked into her eyes, wondering what she was talking about. Had he been captured by a witch or demented woman?

She lowered her hands, stepped back a full step and waited. “Don’t you dare call me a witch.”

Gareth retreated a step, too.

“Can’t you stop doing it? Now any listeners will know I’m with you, and that puts my life in danger. Stop or you might as well just march over the next hill and give yourself up.”

Gareth waited, breath coming in gasps, trying to catch a breath while trying to understand what the woman was talking about. Witch. The word did not pass my lips, but she heard it.

“Did you hear me?”

He shrugged. “I hear your words, but don’t understand anything you said. Your words don’t make sense. Can I put my dragon in his bag, and do you mind if we leave here before those others find us?”

“Yes, put him away. Isn’t that what I told you a while ago?”

No, it was not. She’d ordered him to call it off from attacking her, not put the dragon away, but he didn’t argue. Placing the dragon inside, he held the bag open and noticed that now it squeezed to fit. Delaying, he fumbled with the bag while thinking. If he silently ordered the dragon to attack her, especially if he told the thing she was food, he might overpower her and take her bow. Then what?

“Exactly,” she said, hands on hips in a defiant stance. “Then what? Your little dragon eats me while you do what? Turn yourself into the king’s army and whatever they have planned for you?”

Gareth looked at her in shock and fear. Almost my exact words.

She moved a step closer and said much softer, “Hey, you really don’t know how to shut off your mind, do you?”

“Shut it off?” He felt a flash of fear. It seemed as if it came from her.

“Stop repeating everything.” She looked around, checked the sky to ensure no flying dragons were in sight, and then pointed. “We’ll go that way. Get your goat and hurry up before any more dragons fly overhead. There must be five or six nearby.”

“What about shutting down my mind?”

“We’ll quiet it down shortly. I’ve sent for an herbal mixture that will help.” She spun and walked quickly away, deeper into the forest, in the direction of the road.

Gareth grabbed the halter for the goat and hurried after her, pulling and tugging as he wondered why he’d rush to follow someone who had shot two arrows at him only minutes earlier. If she intended to do him harm she could have already, he reasoned, but there was more to it. She seemed to know things about him that he didn’t, and she acted like she might share more of that information. He needed to know certain things. How could he think something in his mind and she know what it was? What was she so concerned about when she told him to “shut it off”? He could no longer see her and tugged harder for the goat to move faster. The goat balked at the speed.

“Wait up,” he called softly, as he managed to catch sight of her, again.

At a bend in the path, she turned and saw the problem with the goat. She slowed until she could speak without shouting. “Just a little further. We must hurry before they become impatient and come to you, and maybe do something drastic. I’ll do my best to get you to safety.”

The surrounding trees seemed too thin with her words. Unseen eyes peered at him from everywhere. His imagination ran wild. Still, the truth was that watchers could be nearby, and he’d never see them. The forest was mostly oak and other hardwoods, the underbrush not too thick to move through, yet more than enough to conceal an army of watchers. He looked up and realized that every time he could see the open sky, something up there could see him. The ground was undulating, one small hill after another. Often small creeks or streams separated the downhill portion of one from the uphill of the next.

He had not seen a cabin, barn, fence, or other sign of humans for a full day. Then he thought of Tom with mixed feelings. The night whispers could be his imagination, but they warned him of danger and had mentioned Tom, and so far had been accurate. Tom had done him no harm, in fact, without Tom he would certainly be the captive of those chasing him. “I have a friend on the road over there,” he pointed off to his right. “Is he in danger?”

“I traveled that road to get to you. The only person is an old farmer riding in a corn wagon to market.”

“That’s him. Tom. He’s the only reason I’ve managed to get this far.”

She scowled, paused and came to a decision. She turned and took him by his shoulders while looking directly into his eyes, again. “Okay, now you listen to me carefully. Continue walking down this trail until you reach some big rocks the size of your friend’s wagon. At the base of a steep hill on your right, there’s a rock-slide. Go into the rocks at that point, hide and wait. No loud noises, no mental-shouting, and no fires. No angry or excited thinking! Hear me? All you do is sit quietly and wait for me to return. Sleep if you can. I’ll try to send help.”

“You’re going after Tom?”

“Yes, I’ll try. You take a nap. Just think about calm things, Gareth. Picture pretty lakes or flowers. You must stay calm, or you’ll lead your enemies right to you.”

“Tom might not believe you’re here to help him. Tell him a black dragon dropped me into the Dunsmuir Sea. He’ll know what that means and proves I talked to you.”

“I just wish I’d have known who it was on that wagon when I saw him this morning. There’s a full militia checkpoint not far ahead on the road, right in the direction that old mule’s taking him. The army’s holding everyone traveling on the road at there. Gathering them up into a fenced pasture, like a herder with his sheep. No telling how long they’ll keep Tom once they have him. Or what they’ll do if they figure out you were with him.”

“I’ll go by those rocks and wait like you said. Please hurry and bring him back.”

She spun and sprinted away.

The goat paused beside the path as it pulled mouthfuls of fresh green grass, and looked at Gareth with trusting eyes. He wrapped an arm around the neck and pulled it closer and rubbing the space between the eyes. The woman said to think calming thoughts and the goat was better than any lake or flower.

The goat tore another mouth full of grass from the edge of the field. It chewed, eyes centered on Gareth. He tugged the rope, “Yes, we’re going to leave here, so grab another mouthful and don’t look at me like that.”

He adjusted the strap of the bag over his shoulder and knew by the feel that the dragon must have increased its weight by half since hatching. Grasshoppers, butterflies, fish, corn, mice, dried meat, and of course, goat-leg must be exceptional dragon food.

No angry thinking? Lost in thoughts about not thinking, and how to accomplish such a feat, he noticed the trees had thinned even more as he neared a larger hill, and off to the right stood a field of huge rocks like those the woman had described. At the rock-slide, he turned off the path at the base of a hill and wound his way in and around several boulders. He carefully wiped his footprints, and those of the goat, from the dirt path. The action wouldn’t fool an experienced woodsman for a second, but not doing so would be foolish. He continued skirting around large boulders until he was out of sight for anyone walking on the path.

Gareth tied the goat under a huge maple tree where it could reach green, lush grass, but where it was concealed from dragons in the air. He released Blackie, which promptly explored the area looking for food behind rocks, hiding in the grass, and flying in the air. A butterfly flitted too near and disappeared into the jagged tooth maw. A beetle tried escaping and failed. “Don’t go far hunting for food and stay away from my goat.”

The dragon made no promises. Gareth sat with his back against the trunk of a tree and closed his eyes. He made a strong mental image of the goat, stressing the idea of staying away from it, hoping the dragon understood. He then settled in the shade of a type of tree with large leaves with scalloped edges he didn’t recognize. The lowlands grew a lot of types of plants he didn’t recognize.

He rested, his mind calm as it could be under the circumstances. Eyes closed, his thinking centered on the woman who had rescued him. She was obviously accomplished in woodcraft. Her actions were not centered in friendliness. She seemed to be doing someone else’s wishes when it came to him. She was also used to giving orders and acted as if he was expected to obey them. It could be that she had a son his age and was used to ordering him around. She might just be a bossy sort of person.

As his emotions increased with resentment in how she treated him, he realized he needed to relax, as she’d told him to do. He calmed himself, thinking warm thoughts of his time in Dun Mare and the enjoyable times working Odd’s farm. Sara would be worried about him, and he thought of her handing him mugs of cold water, and he missed the closeness of that small action.

The nameless forest woman had confirmed that there were many people searching for him, as unreasonable as that seemed, but he knew it to be true. That implied she drew knowledge from somewhere, and she was not acting on her own, too. Most puzzling, she had warned him not to get angry or excited as he was tempted to do now.

She said not to think angry thoughts. She acted as if she wanted to help him, and said she was going after Tom to return him. Fine, let her bring Tom here and then the two of them could get together and figure out what was really happening, and who the woman was. Tom was far better qualified than he was to sort through all the information and draw conclusions.

The dragon returned to stand a few steps away, a dead brown rabbit in its jaws. It let the animal fall to the ground since it was too large to eat in one bite. It tore off a hunk of the foreleg and chewed, looking up at Gareth with adoring eyes.

The idea of the dragon understanding his thoughts was still unbelievable, let alone the idea that it obeyed him. He saw an opportunity to investigate their relationship further. Earlier it had leaped onto the fallen tree when ordered, but what if it had intended to do that, anyway? He needed to confirm the wordless communication by telling the dragon to do something it didn’t want to do. That was the only way to be sure the dragon’s actions were not a coincidence. Without using words, he said, “Stop eating.”

The eyes of the dragon looked less adoring as it allowed the leg that it gnawed on to fall to the ground. Its wings unfolded slightly and twitched in agitation. The animal sidestepped slowly until its body shielded the rabbit from Gareth, but it did not take another bite.

“Give me the rabbit,” He said the words in his mind, mouth firmly shut.

The dragon hissed.

“Now. Give it to me.”

Eyes as cold as the shiver that ran up his back centered on Gareth. Then, in a rush, the dragon grabbed the carcass in its mouth and took three tentative steps closer. It let the rabbit fall to the ground as it retreated one small step, watching Gareth intently.

“Okay, you can eat it now.”

The dragon leaped the short distance to the rabbit and tore into a hind leg with a sickening crunch of bone. In a few minutes, only a patch of bloody fur remained.

A voice came from behind, a woman’s voice, but he had not heard her speak before “That was very impressive. Now, you three need to get under cover and stay still because a brown is about to fly directly over us.”

Gareth had spun at her first word. A woman stood motionless beside a nearby boulder, dressed in brown pants and green shirt, much like the first woman. There was no way of telling how long she had been there. She blended in so well that he had to look for her before picking her out from the background. She was a younger clone of the woman with the bow, one hand on a hip and the other pointing at a stand of small trees she wanted them to move under. Then she stepped quickly beneath the overhanging branches near her, never looking back to see if he followed suit.

Gareth grabbed the rope and pulled the goat nearer the trunks. “You too,” he said to the dragon. The dragon half-ran to join them, tail sweeping back and forth with each step. Once safely under the large branches, Gareth looked at the newcomer and said, “I never got the name of the other woman who was here. What’s yours?”

“Mary. She was Sister Karen.”

“Just Mary?”

She sat in the grass. “Mary and Karen, to you. Simple names for simple people. Tell your dragon to remain still until the brown has passed. Nasty looking little thing, your beastie. I heard it’s a black, but this is the first one I’ve ever seen. I thought blacks were extinct or just myths. Keep a good hold on that line with the goat until it passes, too. Their eyesight spots any movement.”

“Who are you people?”

Mary said, “Nobody you need concern yourself with. I don’t want any trouble from you, understand? Keep calm.”

Gareth sat and looked between the overhead branches and watched the sky. Gareth never doubted he’d see a brown dragon. When it came into view, it flew lower than expected and almost right over them. It was so low Gareth watched it and saw the eyes flick left then right, then left again. The rustle of wings sounded like the scrape of old sheet metal on sand. He imagined the sweep of the wings causing his hair to move.

The brown flew on. Mary’s comment and attitude angered him. He glanced at his feet trying to avoid posturing and threatening. He wanted to keep calm and control his thoughts. His little black dragon lay in the dirt nearby, curled up and asleep. Peaceful, but in a way, a coiled snake might take just before striking.

Mary saw where he looked and shifted her attention as he glanced up. She said, “They say male blacks are the largest and most powerful of all. Intelligent, too. Right now, it looks as harmless as a kitten. So do you. Okay, we can move again, but be prepared to take cover at any time.”

“Mary, is that all you have for a name?”

“Sister Mary, if it suits you but don’t be critical. Our traditional names are better than calling a black dragon ‘Blackie,'” she chuckled.

“Only until I think of a better name. How’d you know that name?” Gareth felt like he was suddenly standing there naked and she was looking at him. Then, he realized the growing smile she wore was because she knew his thoughts. He tried shifting thoughts to safer subjects, couldn’t manage, and in his mind saw her standing naked.

Her smile increased. “You need to know that any ‘sensitive’ can read your thoughts better than normal people hear words,” she pulled a metal flask from her hip and held it out to him. “They know exactly what you are thinking. Everything. Here, drink this. All of it, and don’t bother telling me how bad it tastes, because it does.”

The more he tried to think of other things the more intense his vision of a naked Mary became. Gareth didn’t move to take the flask. “What is it?”

“Medicine. I was bringing it to Karen when she had to leave you. It’ll stop you from telling your enemies where we are with your every thought. A herb that will numb your thinking to an extent, and make you sleepy. It’s important you drink it right away.”

Her persuasive manner and calm confidence made him want to trust her. Yet he didn’t know her and drinking what she termed medicine seemed foolish. He glanced at the goat and found it lying down, eyes closed, legs curled under it. The dragon slept on, breathing deeply and snorting occasionally. Strange for them to sleep so soundly in the middle of the day. Gareth nodded with his chin. “Do you have anything to do with them sleeping?”

She nodded. “We sisters have a way with animals.”

“Can you make them obey you, too?”

“No. At least, not like you. We only suggest, but your dragon is bound to you or bonded, as some say. You communicate directly. Bound or bonded means that if your dragon does not see you for ten years, it will still think you are its mother. Your minds are as one. Sisters hold a less powerful link with animals. We simply trigger basic reactions in animals, like telling them they need to sleep, but if they do not want to, they will ignore us. With the two of you bonded, it is like one person thinking two thoughts.”

“Can you order me to sleep?”

“I could try, but you’d resist.”

Gareth shook his head. Some of her explanation made sense, but much did not.

She continued, “Don’t worry about it, especially now. You are taking the first step on a long staircase. For now, you need to remain calm and keep your thoughts to yourself so the others do not find you. That’s why the medicine. It’ll calm your mind.”

“Karen said others can hear every word I think.”

“Most people ‘hear’ your feelings and think they are their own, if they have a little touch of the power, and most people do. They do not hear the actual thoughts or sentences unless they are brothers or sisters. However, there are times when you are so blatant about your feelings they may as well be words that everyone can hear.”

He held the flask to his mouth and allowed a drop of the amber liquid to touch his tongue. Bitter. “If I don’t drink this?”

“I won’t force you if that’s what you’re asking. What I will do, is leave this place as fast as I can, because anyone near you is certainly going to be captured or die. Including you. Probably by burning in a mire of dragon spit from those overhead, but don’t count out swords or spears. You are drawing your enemies to you like flies to honey.”

She eyed the full flask, stepped back and straightened her tunic with a tub to the bottom hem as if to leave, her attitude of indifference impressing Gareth more than her words alone. He said, “This will help me from spreading my thoughts everywhere? Keep me safe?”

She nodded.

Gareth carefully watched her reactions to his words and tone. She seemed sincere in her concerns about dying if she stayed near him, and that scared him more than the contents of the flask. He tipped it and allowed the bitter concoction to fill his mouth before sliding down his throat, ignoring the taste. He kept his eyes locked on hers.

She accepted the empty container and spoke softly. “Sit. Very soon your mind should stop sending your thoughts out like an angry swarm of bees after the hive is attacked, but too many people have already heard you. Most have determined roughly where you are and are already near here, or they are on their way, traveling fast. Everybody wants you.”

“I don’t understand why.”

She shrugged, and settled herself next to him. “Normally sensitive men pair with another with the same ability when they’re young. One listens while the other speaks. They can only pair with one other man. Communication is in a single direction. You break all the rules.”

Gareth tried to follow her thinking, but his mind already felt dull and slow, like it had been running up a long hill, slowly. “Men?”

“Of the cloth. The Brotherhood, I’m sure you’ve seen them. They wear long green robes and look like their minds are a hundred leagues away, which they are.”

“Teachers.”

“Yes, they sometimes teach. You know of them?”

His tongue felt thick and slow. “They travel in pairs like you said.”

“Yes. One of the pair listens and the other speaks, but not to each other. Their partners are far away, where they can relay their information to those who sell it.”

“I can’t hear them.”

She paused, nodded as if coming to a decision, and said, “I believe that in time you will. Soon. You just don’t know how, yet. You had only bonded with your dragon a day ago. But as your talent improves, you will hear so much I don’t know how you will shut it all out, let alone filter it to hear what you want.”

“I would have to filter the thoughts? Can that be done?”

She snorted and almost smiled. “You already do it with sounds. Right now around us, there are sounds of leaves rustling, insects calling to one another, your dragon snoring, and probably a hundred others. Yet you only “hear” my voice. You filter out the others without even trying.”

Gareth fought to keep his mind active. Mary was sharing information he’d wondered about his whole life, and he fought to think of what he should ask her next while he was still able, and while she was willing to share. Should he ask about the night whispers? For some reason, he quickly decided not to. “Who buys information from the Brotherhood?”

“Tradesmen, farmers, kings, generals, and fishermen, like your friend, Tom. Anyone.”

“Why?”

“You mean; why would someone pay the Brotherhood of men for information? Well, suppose you’re a farmer and learn that a drought ruined the wheat crop in Drakesport, and you can sell your wheat for much more if you send it in a wagon to their market, instead of to Tanner’s Crossing. Perhaps to the north seas far more fish being caught this year than normal. Would you pay for that knowledge if you fished for a livelihood? Or, if you were a general in the King’s army and could know the size and location of the enemy, what would you pay?”

Gareth heard her and understood the value of selling information, but his mind grew ever slower under the influence of the drug. He concentrated on her words, as well as the concepts, but much of it felt lost. There were many more questions he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t think of them. His thoughts felt soft and directionless. He closed his eyes but did not sleep.

She continued, speaking as a mother to a newborn to calm it, “Information of the right sort is often more valuable than gold. The Brotherhood travel in pairs and they are in constant communication with their opposites, rumored to be located in a valley far beyond the Blue Mountains. They walk the lands of all kingdoms and observe everything, reporting what they find. Invent a new weapon and they see it today and sell it to far lands, tomorrow. A rival king takes ill, and the best healers flock to him. For a price.”

The mini dragon sluggishly escaped his bag and curled up at Gareth’s waist. He didn’t have the will or energy to shove it away. The woman continued talking, but he couldn’t concentrate enough to understand her words. She seemed more relaxed, as if safer. Mary tipped his head back, and he felt cool water trickle down his throat.

A smile crept onto his face as he remembered Odd’s daughter, Sara, giving him water on the farm during plowing season or when working to harvest the fields. Funny he often thought of that one simple action more than any other.

In a few words, Mary had supplied information he’d need to think about and consider for a long time before understanding. There was much more to know, but he now had a place to begin. A start. Somewhere in her words was the reason for his being and the reason why the whole world seemed to be chasing him. There might even be a pathway to his future if he could keep his mind on track.

Blackie is not a good name for my dragon. I’ll have to think of a better one. . . Later.

She poured more of the bitter potion into his mouth. He didn’t object.

The afternoon sun felt warm on his face. He drifted off, thinking of Odd’s farm and the peaceful existence he’d enjoyed at Dun Mare again. Faring’s quick wit and wide smile filled his dreams, as did his time learning from the teachers. Some days, especially during the winter when there was little work to do on the farm, a succession of teachers sat with him. One subject followed another until his mind rejected more. They were good times. No stress and only today to worry about. The warmth of those days filled him.

Someone shook his shoulder.

He ignored it. It shook again, harder.

“Try to wake up boy,” Tom said. “You have to stand up. We have a long way to go, and we need to move fast.”

Tom’s back. He needs to know so much. Gareth forced his eyes open and met the concerned expression on Tom’s face. Gareth’s mind reeled with all the information he needed to share. He concentrated on singling out an item to begin, but his tongue felt too thick for his mouth. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Tom. Blackie is a bad name for my dragon, you know that? I need a better one.”

A woman’s voice, “What’s he talking about?”

“His dragon. Help me get him to his feet.”

Hands helped him stand. He wobbled but managed to remain upright with help.

The woman spoke again, her voice sharp. “The Brotherhood and the king’s army are closing in fast. If we so much as step out into the open, we’ll be seen by their lookouts or dragons, if we’re lucky. Probably they’ll just kill you and me and take him prisoner. It would be better for the two of us if we slit his throat, and made our separate ways from this place.”

Tom answered, “You’re right, Karen. We both know it. But I have to wonder what this boy can accomplish if we help him escape. What a tragedy if he should die before making his mark.”

Gareth wondered briefly, why Tom called her Karen and remembered that was the name of the first woman. The one with the bow. Where was Mary?

“For a seller of corn, you speak more like a prophet,” she said. “Do you have a plan, Tom? Because all I know to do is kill him and run from this place as fast as I can.”

“I say we wait until first dark. Then move. Stop at daybreak tomorrow and hide.”

“If any of the dragons spot that little black from the air they’ll attack us as if they’re crazed,” Karen said. “All dragons hate blacks. They’ll cover the ground with spit a foot deep, with us buried in it.”

“I know. They say they hate male blacks because they’re so big intelligent and powerful, but we need to protect it,” Tom said, walking Gareth in a circle to revive him. His left arm held the young man steady on his feet. “I suspect they’re a bonded pair, now. That’s the first male black I’ve ever seen or heard of in modern days. A female black dropped him into the ocean near my boat.”

Gareth heard and understood much of their discussion, and while they spoke as if he couldn’t hear them, he found a rising sense of distrust. Karen mentioned slitting his throat. Tom had not offered to protect him from her, only to discuss mutual escape. He decided to listen and pretend the medicine still worked to dampen his thoughts. He inhaled and calmed his thinking. Smooth thoughts.

Karen said, “Has it crossed your mind that we may have the most powerful dragon and the most powerful man in the world with us? If not now, someday. Have you thought about what they might do together as a bonded pair?”

Tom paused and shifted his position to better support Gareth, then turned to the sleeping dragon curled up in the bag, stretching the seams to bursting. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

Karen moved her hand away from the hilt of her knife, then gripped it again as if unsure of her next action. “We have a whole world to worry about. You’re sure we shouldn’t kill him here?”

Gareth glanced at Tom with one eye half open. It seemed Tom refused eye contact with her, but he couldn’t be sure.

Tom glanced at Gareth and slowly shook his head. “No, he stays alive.”

Gareth didn’t see conviction in the action or hear it in the voice. Tom’s not my friend.