The Black wing

Chapter 5

Autumn had given way to an early and unseasonably cold winter in the Khalkist Mountains, bringing snow to the higher eleva shy;tions, which Khisanth was now approaching by wing. A shadowy form against the night sky, the black dragon sliced through the pearly flakes, silent, steadfast.

Khisanth could scarcely remember her first stumbling attempts at flight, just a few months past. The activity was now as much a part of her spirit, as important to her vitality, as eating. Where once she had to concentrate to counter the effects of even the smallest air currents, her body now utilized them without conscious thought. Khisanth remem shy;bered hearing before the Sleep stories of dragons who'd been permanently grounded by wing damage. She knew she would commit keptu, ritual dragon suicide, before she would live without flying.

Solinari, the white moon, had made two full revolutions around Krynn since Khisanth had last flown this route to Styx. The days since the encounter with the band of ogres had been overfilled with silent study, deprivation to promote patience, deep breathing to foster concentration and strength. Each day Khisanth grew closer to achieving the heightened sense of awareness, of qhen, that Kadagan taught in his mys shy;terious, sometimes nonsensical, way. She suffered occasional feelings of foolishness and humiliation because she had seen the positive effect of every single exercise, no matter how odious. She felt less the ignorant child, more the admiring student. Best of all, whenever she was able to demonstrate true patience or unique observations, Kadagan rewarded her with time to develop her natural spellcasting abilities.

Khisanth knew from the pace they set, never Kadagan's composure, that the nyphids were increasingly anxious to complete her training. Whenever she inquired about Dela's health, Kadagan calmly informed her to focus on her studies.

Until this morning. Waiting for Kadagan to arrive for the daily lessons, Khisanth had been on her haunches in the tiny cave, tinkering with the effects of a simple cantrip. She could create and hold a healthy spark on the tip of her claw, but had difficulty turning it to flame. Summoning her energy, she'd channeled it down her right claw arm and focused it on the index talon, banishing all other thoughts. A tiny, flicker shy;ing yellow flame leaped to life. Khisanth's lips drew back in a smile of triumph.

Suddenly the usually serene and nimble nyphid stormed into her lair. Startled, Khisanth's concentration wavered, and the flame extinguished. The dragon glared at Kadagan through a thin trail of smoke.

"It is time," the nyphid had said, out of breath. His glow shy;ing golden hair was disheveled, his green tunic twisted, his soft skin flushed. "Get ready to depart before the sun climbs to midday."

Khisanth stood up, bumping her horns on the ceiling. "Whaf s happened?"

"Dela's signal to Joad has been weakening," the nyphid explained hastily. "It has become erratic. Joad thinks they are moving her … or something worse." Kadagan's expression became sadder than Khisanth had ever seen. "I had hoped to give thee more time for study, but we dare not wait another moment. We may lose her if we do…."

One way or another, Khisanth had thought inwardly. "I'm ready," was the reply she voiced.

"Perhaps," the nyphid said before departing again to make his own preparations.

Khisanth had only one thing to prepare; a way to transport her small treasure hoard. She was determined not to return to the tiny cave, no matter the outcome in Styx. The sling Kadagan had fashioned before had been utilitarian, but too cumbersome to carry as a human. She needed something that would free her hands and be unobtrusive, if ever a dozen swords could be. She'd settled on stringing the hilts of the weapons through a length of soft vine and tying the unusual necklace tightly around her throat. She could use a spell to shrink the choker later.

Now, many hours after leaving her lair, Kadagan's finger was aimed ahead of them in the twilight sky, toward the dull glow rising up from the lantern-lit village. "There it is," he said from behind her head.

Both nyphids, wearing furry vests over their usual green tunics, rode between Khisanth's wings and neck. Joad sat behind Kadagan, clutching the younger nyphid. Slung over the elder nyphid's shoulder was a sack of dried curative herbs.

Joad's spirits had picked up considerably in the past month, as Khisanth's qhen skills increased. The elder nyphid had begun to believe that the dragon might be able to rescue his daughter. After the trip to the moss garden, when he'd first spoken, she found she pushed herself even harder, seek shy;ing the silent wise one's praise.

As he peered toward the village where his daughter was held, however, concern filled Joad's eyes. He alone knew the depth of Dela's despair, how little time was left.

Khisanth would have recognized the village without the nyphid's help. Under her now, the rolling farmlands on the north edge of Styx were tilled and dotted with snow-covered hayricks, harvested since her last trip. Just ahead, trails of smoke rose from the chimneys that poked through the thatch roofs on the buildings clustered around Miremier Bay. One street followed the curve of the bay, its dirt turned to slushy mud by the snow. At regular intervals, impossibly narrow cobblestone walkways passed between the closely placed buildings, like the spokes of half a wheel.

Wasting no time, Khisanth tipped her wings and spiraled earthward. She lowered her hind feet, clutched in flight to her belly, and landed gracefully on a snowy path. Kadagan and Joad slipped off her back, their soft booted feet dropping silently into the frigid powder. The three stood where the tree line met the mountains, just beyond the light from the covered lanterns on the town wall.

"Thou knowest what to do?" asked Kadagan. Arms crossed tightly before him, he began to pace, kicking up the fluffy snow, which came to the top of his boots.

"Find, then free Dela," said the dragon in a monotone, as if it were a mantra.

"Locate the human thou saw in the globe, and thou wilt find Dela. Remember to keep her covered in the presence of humans. Revert to dragon form only if necessary for ye both to break free."

The dragon patted the tense nyphid's shoulder. "I'll remember everything, Kadagan," she said softly. "I'll be as quick as I can, but I don't know how long it will take," she warned.

Kadagan's face looked pinched. "We will wait in the forest as long as necessary."

Joad nodded agreement, then reached into the bell-shaped cuff of his green tunic; the glowing globe overfilled his aged hand. "Take the maynus," he said, holding it out. "Dela will need it when thou rescues her."

Khisanth hesitated. "Won't you need it?"

Joad raised the globe over his head and pushed it insis shy;tently toward the dragon's claw. "I will know if thou hast

found her. Perhaps, with thy magical nature, it will help thee as well."

"Slip it onto thy necklace," suggested Kadagan.

Humbly Khisanth untied the vine around her neck and threaded it through the center of the glowing orb. To her sur shy;prise, the small ball caught hold and continued to glow softly between the swords on the thick string. She refastened the vine around her scaly neck and adjusted it so that the maynus hung just above her breastbone.

"Someone comes!" hissed Kadagan.

Khisanth's glanced up from her necklace to see a shrouded form emerging from the unguarded gates of Styx, its head bent against the early snow and unseasonably cold winds. Khisanth dropped to a crouch to make herself smaller against the backdrop of the black trees. Squinting, she focused her sharp dragon sight on the creature.

The person looked up suddenly, as if it felt the dragon's gaze. It peered into the darkness beyond the torchlight, but its limited human vision revealed nothing.

Khisanth's eyes allowed her a clear view. Heavily bundled against the elements, the form lacked definition. Its features, swathed in a tattered blue scarf, were something like an ogre's, but softer, much more pleasing to the eye. A narrow strip of soft brown fur arched over each of its eyes, which were shaped more like Kadagan's than Khisanth's, but not so impossibly bright as the nyphid's. It had plump pink cheeks that curved, then hollowed abruptly. The mouth between them was too small to be of use in tearing apart food, Khi shy;santh thought disdainfully.

"It is a human woman," said Kadagan. "She seems ner shy;vous about the weather."

Aggis Mickflori was indeed worried. Her trip to Styx for much-needed supplies had taken longer than usual. Now she was terribly afraid of traveling back to her small shack dur shy;ing a snowstorm on a moonless night, but her children were little and her lame husband was nearly as helpless as they. In truth, with rumors of ogres in the hills of late, she was more afraid of what she would find at the shack if she did not hasten her steps, storm or no.

Dragon and nyphids watched the woman adjust her scarf lower over her determined face, hug her packages closer to her chest, and set off. Head bent to the storm, she was oblivi shy;ous to the presence of the black dragon lurking in the dark shy;ness ahead.

Annoyed that the woman should pick the path that led to her hiding place, Khisanth's first instinct was to ready her breath weapon. She wondered absently what human flesh would taste like.

"No!" Kadagan hissed softly, sensing her thoughts.

The dragon shook away the urge to attack. "I remember the ogres," she whispered. Khisanth focused on her breath shy;ing, envisioned the steady rise and fall of her own chest to slow the pounding of her blood. In time, it thrummed peace shy;fully through her veins. The woman was almost close enough to see Khisanth, if she looked up.

"Now thou hast seen a human. Change form, before she discovers us," urged Kadagan.

The dragon closed her eyes and concentrated on an image of the woman: hair under the scarf, plump cheeks, softly curved jawbone, arms to the narrow waist, the stride of legs that were half the height of the body. She held tight to the vision in her mind, blocking out all other sensations.

Suddenly the black dragon's snout began to tingle. Then through her body a hot flash raced like mercury, ending at the very tip of her tail. Her entire frame convulsed as her bones constricted. Khisanth could hear strange pops and clicks, and then only the eerie wind that accompanies a snowstorm.

The dragon nearly staggered from the enormous weight that suddenly pulled at her neck, dragging her to her knees. Looking down, she saw that the sword choker that before had seemed so tight now dangled to the ground, the maynus casting a soft yellow glow from under snow that was quickly covering it. Closing her eyes again, Khisanth formed a men shy;tal picture of the choker reduced to about the size of the human woman's neck. Tinkling together gently like bells in the wind, the swords and globe shrank until the vine was snug, the snow-covered swords and globe unexpectedly cold against the skin of her neck.

"Goodness, child, what are you doing out in this storm? And as naked as the day you were born. Did you think that ugly necklace would keep you warm?"

Khisanth's eyes popped open at the insult to her hoard. She looked into the woman's clear brown eyes. The young dragon's mind was a tumble of conflicting sensations, not the least of which was a new and unpleasant vulnerability to the elements. She glanced around furtively for Joad and Kada-gan, but the nyphids were gone.

"Look at those goose bumps! You must be freezing!" cried the woman, dropping her packages in the snow. She shrugged off her shawl and draped it around Khisanth's naked, dark-skinned shoulders.

So this is what cold feels like, the black dragon-turned-young-woman thought. She looked down at her new, shiver shy;ing form, barely covered by the shawl. Soft flakes of snow drifted onto her warm brown skin and melted into rivulets.

The woman ripped the ratty blue scarf in two and handed both halves to Khisanth. "Wrap your feet in these until we can get you inside and find you proper shoes." She tucked her packages under one arm and put the other around Khi shy;santh's slight but muscular waist in support.

"Were you robbed?" the woman asked, turning Khisanth toward the gates. "Or worse?" She dropped her tone to a hor shy;rified whisper. "Did someone-" she stumbled over the dis shy;tasteful word "-molest you, dear?"

Khisanth didn't know how to respond, so she said nothing.

"Are you touched, dear, or just mute?"

The words were unfamiliar to her, but Khisanth was some shy;how certain she had been called stupid. She was conjuring up a fiery response when her training in patience came unbid shy;den to mind.

"I can speak," Khisanth managed to moan, her human voice unfamiliar to her own ears. It was surprisingly soft and pleasant. "I was robbed-by ogres," she added.

"Oh, you poor thing," cooed the woman. "Styx isn't the same place, now that the mercenaries and their filthy bands of ogres have found us. No one feels safe anymore." She clucked her tongue. "Strange that they took your clothing, but left this necklace," she said. Her hands, swollen and red-tipped, touched the tiny swords that lay against the smooth skin of Khisanth's human neck. The disguised dragon jerked her hoard from the human's touch.

The older woman looked surprised but compassionate. "Don't you worry, hon. You're safe with Aggis. I'll help you back to your home."

"I–I don't live in Styx," said Khisanth. "I was just passing through."

"If this is how the city treats its visitors, then I'm glad I live in the hills!" she spat. Aggis patted Khisanth's hand, and the dragon had to force herself not to pull away. "Not to worry. I know an innkeeper near the city's edge who'll help you. We'll slip in the back way, through the kitchen, to spare you the embarrassment of prying eyes." With undisguised envy, she glanced again at Khisanth's barely covered form. Her own figure had not looked half so feminine even before chil shy;dren, she thought wistfully.

As they walked to the town gates and into the city, Khi shy;santh listened only enough to respond when necessary. She was caught up in her own thoughts and had no concept of human embarrassment, especially about nudity, having never worn clothing.

With one arm draped around Khisanth's shoulders and the other steadying her elbow, Aggis led the disguised dragon through the narrow alleys. In places, the thatched peaks of the buildings leaned so close together the falling snow scarcely reached the ground. Yellow light from candles bled through oiled parchment windows, keeping the dark shy;ness of night from the walkways. A bull-necked youth cut across their path, struggling under the weight of two buckets on a yoke. Dogs ran, barking, between the legs of villagers hurrying home. Women leaned from second-story windows and called their children to the evening meal.

Finally Aggis rapped on a battered wooden door that was nearly hidden between piles of empty crates and small bar shy;rels. A fat, balding man with saggy cheeks opened the door, permitting a wave of warm air to escape and surround the two women. The innkeeper gawked in surprise for a moment at Khisanth's naked body, but he came to his senses when he heard his kitchen help whistling appreciatively behind him.

"Slice them stew potatoes and mind yer own businesses," he growled. Quickly he helped Aggis hustle Khisanth up a narrow set of stairs just off the kitchen.

The innkeeper waved them into an unheated room, lit only by the light streaming in from the hallway. The sloping, thatched roof of the building formed two walls. Rough whitewash covered the other two. The room held a trunk, a narrow rope bed, and a cane-backed chair. Dry rushes on the floor crunched softly beneath the women's feet. Snow was piled against the outside of the windowpane in the back wall. Another, similar room could be seen across the hall through the open doorway.

Aggis and the innkeeper spoke in whispers for a few moments. Finally the old woman nodded, and the man left, stealing one last, red-faced, admiring peek at Khisanth before lumbering down the staircase.

After using her teeth to pull the fingerless woolen gloves from her hands, Aggis turned to the chest and began sorting through the clothing. "Bert says to apologize, but he's only got men's clothes. He doesn't get too many ladies passing through, leaving frilly dresses behind." She pulled out a dark purple drawstring tunic and handed it to Khisanth.

"Here, this will do for now." Jamming her hands on her hips, Aggis stood back and peered at Khisanth. "You've got the blackest hair I've ever seen, as black and smooth as pol shy;ished onyx." When Khisanth didn't reply, Aggis tried another tack. "Whaf s your name, child?"

Khisanth was about to respond honestly, but something inside warned her to protect her dragon name.

"You've guessed it," she said. "Onyx. For my hair."

"Isn't that pretty?" Aggis handed her leggings, pan shy;taloons, and thick-heeled, cuffed boots. Khisanth looked in

puzzlement at the collection of clothing, unsure of where she should don any of it. Fortunately, Aggis attributed her confu shy;sion to the garment's being men's clothing.

"You must be used to dresses. Here, Onyx," she said, standing on her tiptoes to hold the tunic above the girl. "Slip this over your head. My goodness, you're a tall girl. You remind me of a black oak tree, with that dark hair and milk-in-coffee skin of yours," she muttered.

Seeing Khisanth's dark hands fumbling next with the pan shy;taloons, Aggis took the russet-colored leathers from her and turned them around so the girl could slip them on. "Of course, you know how pants go on-your fingers must be stiff from the cold. Tuck in the tunic like this." She stuffed the hem of the purple top into the waistband and stood back to examine her charge. The waist was loose, but the legs fit the young woman's muscular frame like a second skin. "You'll have to cinch in the top with some rope."

After Onyx slipped her feet into the boots, Aggis held up one last, fringed garment. Backing into it, Onyx slipped her arms into the sleeves. "This buckskin jacket'll keep out the cold," Aggis pronounced.

"Th-thank you, Aggis," the young woman stumbled over the unfamiliar words.

Aggis shook her head, and her careworn face broadened into a smile. "It was nothing." Glancing to the small glass window, where frost was quickly climbing, she saw that the snowfall had stopped. "We must be good luck for each other. You're safe and dry now, and I won't have to travel in a snowstorm." Aggis stepped to the window and closed the shutters against the weather.

"That should warm it up in here a little," she declared, tug shy;ging her gloves back on. Turning, she clasped Onyx's icy hands and frowned. "You must have cold blood." Onyx snig shy;gered inwardly at the truth of it. "You'll warm up soon enough. I wish I could stay, but I must get home, or my man will give me an earful!" Chuckling, the older woman shuffled in her heavy skirts toward the light in the hallway.

Not knowing what else to do, Onyx followed.

In the doorway Aggis turned, her gloved hand on the cop shy;per knob. "Bert says you should stay the night here, after your ordeal. In any case, don't leave without letting him give you a warm meal and a few steel pieces to get you started again. He's a good man, Bert." She wagged a finger at Onyx. "Mind you, be more careful from now on. A young woman who looks as you do shouldn't travel alone. You should find your shy;self a man to protect you if you've got the wanderlust." She pressed her lips to Onyx's dark cheek, squeezed her hand once more, and then was gone, pulling the door shut behind her.

For some time, Onyx stared at the door, not knowing what to do with herself. Blinking, she became aware of her sur shy;roundings and turned to walk across the rushes. She lowered herself to the floor and tried to curl into the position most comfortable to her as a dragon, but her spine wouldn't curve sufficiently. Spotting the cane-backed chair, she settled her slim form into it with a sigh. Much better.

In the quiet dark of the room, Onyx became aware of the warmth of the maynus against her neck. She untied the vine and slipped the choker from under her tunic. The room was suddenly awash with the globe's light, reflected off the chipped green shutters. She remembered Kadagan's explana shy;tion of the magical globe's origin:

Handed from mother to daughter since the gods created nyphids, the maynus is a source of great magic. It receives its energy from the elemental plane of lightning. Dela believes it was crafted there.

Kadagan might as well have been speaking another lan shy;guage, Onyx thought now, gazing into her only material reminder of the nyphids. Instantly, small bolts of lightning leaped within the glass. She saw something that made her press her nose closer. Were there yellow eyes and mouths on the flickering blue zags of energy? Were electrical genies the source of Dela's magic? Tying the sword choker about her neck again, she resolved to ask Kadagan about it when next she saw him, when her thoughts had cleared after the shape-change.

Onyx was experiencing the same eerie sensation she felt whenever she transformed; hyena or human, after the change

she felt as if she were outside the form, watching herself, con shy;trolling from a distance. Previously, the blending into the adopted form had taken only moments, since the most obvi shy;ous difference between a dragon and a badger was size. But the human form was very different from her own or any other she'd experienced, the body so much more complex. It was clear now that adopting this form, however inferior she believed it to be to a dragon's, would always pose a great challenge to her abilities.

To accelerate the merging of mind and body, Khisanth meditated on the differences between humans and dragons. She had certainly lost the sheer power she derived from her weight as a dragon, but there were benefits she gained, as well.

"I feel lighter, freer," she said aloud, standing and stretch shy;ing luxuriously, "and, well, slender." That was a word she would never have used to describe her dragon form.

Yet for each benefit there were limitations. Without her protective scales, she felt as vulnerable as she had when naked in the snow. Her eyesight was not as keen as a dragon's, and her close-set eyes narrowed her peripheral vision. Yet she could more easily turn her head or body to see behind her. Something of her sharp dragon hearing remained, for she could detect tiny creatures skittering around in the walls, but in her new form, she wasn't particularly interested in devouring them.

Onyx's stomach rumbled abruptly. "I wonder what humans eat?" She caught the scent of roasting meat floating up the stairs from the kitchen. Without thought, she started toward the source of the aroma.

Standing in the cold hallway at the top of the stairs, Onyx was about to descend to the kitchen when she heard the crackle of flames and a mingle of loud voices coming from a staircase at the end of the hallway. Intrigued by the unfamil shy;iar sounds and scents, Onyx strode slowly toward the noise, her thick-heeled boots hammering against the plank flooring.

Onyx came to the end of the hallway, which led to an open-sided staircase. Through the carved spindles, Onyx

could see that the steps descended into the center of a large, crowded taproom and led to the inn's front door. She came to the bottom of the stairs facing the entrance, with her back to the room. But before she could even finish turning, the room had fallen silent. All eyes were upon her. Men sat with mugs of foaming ale poised before whiskered lips.

They must be staring because I'm a stranger, she thought. Analyzing their bold, gaping glances, she realized she was wrong: they were staring because she was a woman. Appar shy;ently her form was appealing to humans of the opposite sex. The realization amused her. Spotting Bert behind a wooden counter, she smiled in recognition. His face reddened. She made a step toward him, and the tightly packed, still silent throng of men rippled back like a wave to let her pass.

"Come now, boys. We've all seen a woman who weighs under ten stone before!"

Onyx glanced over her shoulder and located the speaker, a round, blotchy-faced woman whose long dark skirt was stretched to the limit of its gathers. The woman slammed large mugs of ale down on a table, foam splashing her filthy apron. "Looks scrawny to me," she muttered.

The taproom exploded with laughter at the woman's scornful observation. One man seated before the angry serv shy;ing woman gave her thick waist a reassuring squeeze, then said something Onyx couldn't make out. Smiling trium shy;phantly, the woman looked up and scowled at the lovely, raven-haired stranger. Onyx simply smiled back. The other woman's smirk dissolved into puzzlement.

"We don't see too many young women here in Styx," a voice explained kindly behind her. Onyx swung around to see Bert's sweaty, sagging face. The innkeeper's expression as he contemplated her attire was more fatherly than the other looks she'd received. "I'm glad you was able to find some gear that fit."

Taking her elbow, Bert steered her toward the long, gleam shy;ing wooden bar and onto a stool. He held a mug beneath the tap of a keg, waited while the golden ale splashed forth, then pushed it over the counter toward Onyx. "You could

probably use a drink, after the night you've had. Did you lose much?"

"Lose much?"

Bert looked puzzled. "Aggis said you was robbed by ogres."

"Oh, yes-uh, no," Onyx sputtered, remembering her story to the older woman. "I mean they didn't get much. Just my clothes."

"Filthy creatures, them," spat Bert. "We don't let 'em in here." He frowned suddenly. "Strange that ogres would want your clothes. Didn't you have no steel on you?"

"Steel?"

"Coin," prompted the innkeeper. "Money."

Onyx saw a man down the bar toss back the contents of his drink and push a round piece of steel across the wooden tabletop.

"Ah, money … I didn't have much," Onyx said. "I was just passing through town," she added, in case he, too, in shy;quired about family.

"What do you do?"

"Do?"

She's as simple as Aggis said, Bert thought. "How do you earn your money?" he asked slowly, careful to enunciate.

"I–I'm a good fighter and hunter."

"So you're a mercenary, eh?" He looked dubiously at her slight form. Perhaps looks were deceiving.

"I'm pretty good with my, er, hands," Onyx said to the innkeeper with a sly wink. She downed the bitter-tasting ale with several long gulps, wiping the foam away on her buck shy;skin-covered arm-as she would have on her dragon scales. The amber liquid tasted strangely refreshing.

Bert wasn't sure what to make of that comment, or her hearty display of drinking. Something about the beautiful stranger made him uncomfortable. Almost grateful that he had other customers to attend to, he pushed a small mound of round steel pieces toward her. "Here. Take these to get back on your feet," he said. "If you're hungry, I'll get a boy to bring you food."

"Thanks," she said, placing the steel pieces in her trouser pocket. "I'm starving." The ale had warmed her belly in a pleasant way. She saw Bert signal to a whey-faced boy with badly chopped, ashen hair. The boy disappeared behind a swinging door, only to reappear within moments carrying a rough-cut square board covered with steaming food. Ner shy;vously averting his eyes from the pretty woman, he set the board on the counter before her.

Onyx frowned at the ridiculously small portion. "I'll need more," she ordered. Then, with her hands on the counter, she bent forward to sink perfect white teeth into the juicy drum shy;stick of a small bird. Some instinct stopped her. Hardly lifting her face from the platter, the dragon-turned-woman looked quickly from left to right. The other diners at the bar were watching her strangely. Some held odd, pointed pieces of metal poised above their food.

Leaning back slowly, self-consciously, Onyx tried to emu shy;late the actions of the humans around her. Though she found the practice slow and cumbersome, she managed at last to spear a piece of potato on the point of the metal stick and placed it into her waiting mouth. Hot! Her tongue leaped back in her throat, and she spit the offending potato back onto her plate. More foolishness! Humans heated their food!

Onyx impatiently allowed the potato to cool and placed it back into her mouth. It had been spiced. She had to admit that it tasted better than she would have expected from a root.

Onyx waited for the steam to dissipate from the drumstick before taking a bite. It, too, had been heavily seasoned and was far superior to the raw, cold meat that had been her daily diet. Onyx cleaned the food from her plate. Then, taking a cue from her fellow diners, she licked the board clean. She was surprised to feel a familiar tightening in her stomach. She felt as full as if she'd eaten a moose.

Groaning, Onyx pushed the empty board back, as well as the second full one the bewildered boy had placed before her. She had eaten-now what? Perhaps someone here had infor shy;mation about Dela, or even knew the man from the maynus. With that thought in mind, Onyx spun around on her seat and contemplated the occupants of the room over the rim of her second mug of ale.

Many of the patrons still eyed the pretty young woman now and then, but for the most part they had returned to their conversations. Onyx looked toward the hearth on the short wall to the right of the taproom door. Seated before the roaring fire, at a large round table, were a number of tooth shy;less, paunchy men. After pushing coins toward the center of the table, they would roll some polished white cubes with black dots on each side. Every now and again one of them would leap back, yelp victoriously-as if he had just killed something-then scoop up the coins.

At another long, narrow table, more than a handful of men were holding small, thick pieces of paper inscribed with pic shy;tures and words, which they would occasionally throw toward the center. After a number of these pictures had accu shy;mulated, someone would collect the money, while the others looked on grimly.

Was this how humans "earned their money"?

"Do you like to roll the bones?" said a honeyed voice at her elbow.

Onyx turned to look at the speaker, then caught her bot shy;tom lip between her small human teeth in a slight gasp. Dark tendrils of shiny hair curled around his face and dropped to rest on broad shoulders. The cheekbones beneath his wide-set emerald eyes were high and arched above smooth, weath shy;ered skin. His full, almost purple lips, inside a short-clipped beard and mustache, pulled up into a smile that brought out crease lines around his eyes.

Something about him looked strangely familiar. The green eyes … Onyx gasped again. The man from the globe.

"I usually kill anyone who stares at me for so long," he said, "especially with such penetrating eyes. You remind me of Vil, a snake I once kept as a pet." He looked almost coy. "Are you as sly as a snake?"

"Huh?" Onyx tossed her hair back from her face, and the room tilted crazily. Keeping one hand on her mug, she grabbed her stool to stop the spinning in her head. What was wrong with her? Perhaps the food had been tainted….

Grinning, the man took the mug of ale from her hands and pushed it down the polished length of the bar. "It is also my policy to encourage women to drink until they're well past dizzy, but for some reason you inspire chivalry in me."

The ale had made her light-headed? Too bad, she thought, it had tasted good.

"The name's Led."

Onyx squinted up into his face, her expression blank.

"It's customary to respond with your name." The man gave her a penetrating look. "Unless there's some reason you don't want me to know it."

"No!" she said almost too quickly. Onyx touched her head. "The ale has made me a touch slow-witted, is all," she man shy;aged, borrowing from Aggis. "My name is Onyx."

"How appropriate." Led lifted a hand and ruffled the fine, blue-black fringes of hair that lapped at her neck. She drew back slightly, startled by his touch.

Undaunted, Led twirled his finger through a strand of her hair before withdrawing it casually. He almost seemed to enjoy her discomfort. "Where are you from?"

"The North," she said vaguely. "And you?"

"The road's my home." His eyes twinkled. "Did I hear you tell Bert that you're a mercenary?"

"That was his word. I said I'm a good fighter and hunter."

His smile was lazy, patronizing, his gaze over her slight, womanly form skeptical. "Really?"

Onyx's nervously fingered the choker at her neck. "What business is it of yours?"

Led threw his head back and laughed. "At last, the little snake shows her fangs!"

"Don't ever call me that again," Onyx growled.

"Sorry. It was just a pet name."

"I'm not your pet."

Led leaned back, grinning. "But are you a good fighter?"

Onyx drew back at this line of questioning, discomforted by the entire encounter. She took long breaths in the qhen way, struggling to contain-or even understand-the tangle of human emotions. For some reason, her human form responded strangely to this man. Perhaps it was because she'd been surprised, knocked off balance by finding him so unexpectedly. The only thing she knew for sure was that if she didn't gain control of her brain and tongue, she would lose what might be her only chance to discover Dela's where shy;abouts.

"I can fight," she said evenly.

"That's interesting." Led snuffled two coins between the fingers of one hand, watching her closely while he spoke. "You see, I'm something of a hunter myself. A bounty hunter. In fact, I was bringing a law-breaker here for the bounty some months back and, uh, lost two fighters in a freak accident. Struck by lightning, they were. I haven't found suitable replacements, and I need guards to help me deliver a valuable package to a prospective buyer in Kernen tomorrow." Led's admiring gaze swept over her. "Person shy;ally, I'm impressed by what I see"- he shrugged meaning shy;fully — "but I'm going to have a hard time persuading the rest of my party that you're stronger than you look."

"You're offering me a job?" she asked, trying unsuccess shy;fully to hide her surprise.

"Maybe." He was looking at her legs in the tight russet pants.

"If you're their leader, why do you have to persuade any shy;one?" she challenged.

Led's green eyes shot up. "I don't." They narrowed to slits. "But I can't afford to waste time settling arguments if you can't pull your own weight."

Onyx propped her elbows on the bar and placed her chin in her cupped hand. "You must know there's more to a good fighter than strength," she said softly. "Stealth and cunning are probably more important." She paused. "And magic doesn't hurt, either."

"You can do magic?" he whispered hoarsely. His eyes nar shy;rowed, and he looked around quickly. "Better drop your voice, making a claim like that. Nobody trusts magic or mages, not in this part of the world anyway."

"Until recently, humans thought dragons were but stories, too," she said, watching his reaction.

Led shuddered. "I've heard those rumors, too. But why should I believe you're a mage?"

She knew she was being tested on a number of levels. "Why should I care what you believe?"

Led took a long wooden pipe from his pocket and tamped tobacco into the bowl, considering her defiant reply with amusement. He was reaching for a candle on the bar when he felt something touch the pipe clamped between his lips. Led looked down his nose and saw Onyx's index finger in the pipe's bowl. A small flame leaped from her fingertip and ignited the tobacco. She withdrew her finger and blew away a thin trail of white smoke. "You're welcome," she purred.

Led was too stunned to speak, too impressed to care if anyone else saw the display.

"If s customary to respond with 'thank you/ I believe," she whispered.

Led chose, instead, to nod, but there was undisguised admiration in his emerald eyes. He pushed himself away from the bar. "The men'll be assembling here just after dawn-if you're interested."

"Whafsthejob?"

"Thaf s not your concern," he said, taking three coins from a small drawstring bag and stacking them on the bar. "I'm tired, so we'll have to discuss your pay tomorrow."

Onyx bit back a stinging retort. Like her, Led clearly would not brook insolence, and she was dangerously close to crossing the line between being intriguing and annoying. Besides, she would find out soon enough if the job involved Dela.

Just then, Led's rough hand touched her cheek, made rosy by the roaring fire, if not the exchange. "Are you going to show up, little Onyx?"

"You'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out," she said slyly. She slipped off the chair and sauntered up the stairs, followed all the way by the sound of Led's laughter.