by Sam Hall
I watched him undress in the moonlight streaming through the window, his lean muscle revealed slowly, his hard cock slapping against his stomach when he pulled off his pants. I watched him as he ambled closer, feeling the low, dull ache as need began to build inside me. That’s the thing when you have sex with someone you’re familiar with. You know how their lips will feel on your skin, dropping lower to flick over your most sensitive parts. You know how their calluses will rasp, how it will feel when they push their body into yours and it makes you only want it more. I pulled off my shirt and bra and he pushed me back down onto the bed. “Leave your jeans on,” he said, running a hand up my thigh as if to try and persuade me to disobey him. “We’re not having sex, we can’t. You’re still recovering. Let’s just lay here, you can talk to me and we’ll see where things go. You don’t have to go anywhere tomorrow, and I’ll be right by your side.”
A quiet settled over the room once he layed down beside me, both comforting and all-consuming. Neither of us said anything, despite Flea’s plans. Instead, it’s as if that early morning in the shop was being revisited. I curled within the safe harbour of his arms, arch my back as his hands slid over my bare skin. I tangled my fingers in his hair, let my palm glide along the rasping flat plane of his cheek. Our lips brushed fleetingly. There’s no need to deepen anything into a kiss, our bodies meeting at a thousand small points. The caresses dropped away at no specified point, until we lay still, hopelessly entangled in the other.
“I’m glad you came,” I whispered into the night, not even sure if he’s still awake. “I’m glad you’re with me, helping me through this. I’m sorry I never thanked you for coming to get me.”
“Tess…” my name said everything and nothing, it’s a whisper and a groan and a prayer all in the same sound. He pulled me closer so I’m tucked under his chin and I slowly drifted off to sleep.
20
Miazydar? As soon as my eyes open, I push out a call to my dragon. Usually, there’s a weird airy sensation, almost like a tangible mental space between him and me which we communicate in. I can feel my thoughts moving out into it and then comes his reply. Last night there was nothing. Having been with M for several months, I’d forgotten the hard, flat feeling of being unable to share my thoughts with anyone but myself. Now, I felt something shift. No response, no indication where he was, just a slight tugging like a fish on a line.
The bedroom door opened slowly, making sure the hinges didn’t creak. Flea crept in, carrying a mug of coffee, pausing at the doorway, looking over to see if I’m still asleep. “Is he back?” I asked.
His expression told me everything I needed to know. He shook his head. “No, we’ve looked. Some university staff have been by, inspected the eyrie. They’ve apparently sent out a search party to find him, but there’s not a lot of hope. We don’t know which direction he went in.”
“Or if they’re behind all this.” Flea looked puzzled. “If they’ve taken him somewhere, someplace where he can’t communicate with me, they could easily throw shade on me as some kind of incompetent who can’t care for her beast and use that as an excuse to sunder the bond.”
He blinked at this, then said, “They did seem quite concerned. We’ve seen a few dragons fly out to search.”
“Could be all smoke and mirrors. I need to go to the animal husbandry tutor, see if this poison is likely to affect him.”
“Tess, you need to rest.”
“I can’t rest! He’s out there somewhere, Flea! If he’s lost, if he’s hurt, if he’s dying I can’t just loll around in bed until someone gives me permission to move!” Jez stuck her head in, no doubt summoned by my shouts.
“What’s going on?” she asked him.
“Don’t ask him, ask me! He’s my dragon and he’s missing!”
“We know that, Tess and I get that that’s upsetting, but let’s turn this into a list of action items. What do we need to do to fix this?”
“Find a map of the local area, look for spots he might’ve gone. Find out where he might’ve taken the poison and whether it would’ve affected him. Find out where this poison has come from. God, even find out what the bloody Rozenrrath is. It seemed to throw the cat among the pigeons when he said that’s whose family he came from.”
“OK, we got a bunch of books and stuff from that Celestial Record place when we were in Damorica. Does this place have one of them as well?” Flea said.
“Yeah, it’s on the third floor of the main building.”
“Right, I’m on information reconnaissance. Jez, you want to flutter your eyelids at some of the staff and see what you can find out?”
She tugged down the already revealing neckline of her t-shirt and plumped the girls up. “I’m ready, willing and able.”
“Everyone goes around armed. Be careful, assume every person is hostile and meet back here as soon as possible.”
“So what do you expect me to do?” I said, struggling to get out of bed. I managed to free myself from the blankets and pull a shirt over my head.
“Go to the lounge room, have some breakfast and do some reading. I had a look through your pile, there're some books on dragon care. Maybe one will discuss what poisons affect them?” Jez said.
It wasn’t what I wanted. My fingers worried the texture of my jeans, picking at a small hole there. The idea of sitting down quietly was as appealing as sticking pins in my eyes, but I was going to do it. I dearly wanted to storm into Bhechro’s office, but I was still woozy and didn’t have enough information to do anything other than hurl vague accusations. I needed to be here when Keel turned up, anyway. He would have to have some answers.
Which is how I ended up sitting on the couch, my animal husbandry textbook open and a small pistol resting on top of the pile of books. I ran my finger down the list. Jillyweed, hex dust, Nineveh seeds, enam, elderberries… I chewed on a toothpick and kept on scanning. Who knew such big powerful creatures were vulnerable to so many substances? My head jerked up when I heard a loud knock at the front door. I picked up the pistol, not totally sure what to do with it. Should I shove it in my pocket? What if it went off? Should I tuck it under my armpit? Should I open the door with it in hand, just in case? Another knock came, so I ended up jamming it into the front of my jeans, hoping I didn’t shoot my fanny off. I probably looked really gangsta, my tank top rucked up and the gun peeking out of the waistband.
“What are you doing up?” Keel said. He was dressed in his uniform, the fasteners undone so you could see his civvies underneath.
“I’ve been sitting on the couch the whole morning,” I said, “trying to work out what the hell has happened to Miazydar. What do you know about dragons and poisons?”
“I hesitate to answer. What are you planning?”
“God, nothing like that. It’s just I’m worried he may’ve been exposed to the keletha that was used to poison the students and am wondering if that might be why he’s not home.”
“Well, he’s not in the immediate surrounds either. All dragon riders on campus have been out searching all morning. Classes have been put on hold until Miazydar has been located, but none of us have found any sign of him. Why would he’ve been exposed to keletha? Did he get into one of the middens?”
“No. I can’t give you details, but he was apparently carrying a large package of the pure poison the last time he was seen.”
Keel whistled. “Sit down and fill me in.”
I didn’t, not entirely. I couldn’t. Jez was right, I did have a soft spot for him, and while I thought he was dead sexy, I had no idea where his loyalties lay, a lot like his identical twin. I kept the details vague, which I could see was frustrating him, but I wasn’t laying all of my cards on the table for any Aravisians. “The way keletha works is to irritate the GI tract,” Keel said, “so much that keeping anything down is impossible until the inflammation dies down. The poison itself is excreted quickly, but the inflammation is the killer. It persists for quite some time for some reason, sometimes causing death due to dehydration.”
“There are so few instances of deliberate dragon poison, it’s difficult to say. The majority of what you’re looking at there in the textbook are naturally occurring foods they sometimes eat which cause issues. Keletha is made from a fungus that smells so disgusting that few animals would go near it in the wild.”
“So he could be somewhere, vomiting until he dies?” My mind helpfully projected a perfect image of what that would look like. Miazydar’s scales would dull to a reddish-brown, his sides heaving as he struggled to expel everything inside him. His wings spread haphazardly on the ground before him, too heavy to hold up, his neck snaking across the grass. His eyes growing cloudy as he gasped for breath, slowly glazing over until becoming completely lifeless. I felt something shift mentally. It wasn’t quite the reintroduction of our mental space, but almost like if someone was talking to me a room away. You could hear a small bit of noise but couldn’t make out the words. Miazydar?
“Tess,” Keel moved to sit next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, “if he’s out there, we’ll find him. I promise.”
I hated that word, promise. It conveyed a confidence he had no right to have. Aravisia wasn’t a huge country, but it was big enough for my dragon to get lost in. He could be in a cave, under an outcropping, hidden in a stand of trees. He might have shrunk down, making him near impossible to see from the sky. He could’ve been taken as prey by a bigger animal or drowned in a lake as the poison hit.
Tears welled in my eyes, not because I was sad, but because I was angry and frustrated and sick of hitting the walls of my physical and mental limits. In Aravisia, I knew nothing, could do nothing to help him. “Tess…” Keel said, seeing the tears well and pulling me into his arms. I didn’t want to, I wanted to push him off and hold tight to my anger. It was all I had to keep me going. Instead, that feeling, the seductive all-consuming feeling of another body striving to provide you some sort of comfort slashed through all my wants and went straight for what I needed. I softened against him, the tears rolling freely now, his arms tightening as I began to sob, my chest working in that painfully spasmodic way as tear after tear forced its way out of me. I’m alone again, I thought, despite all evidence to the contrary.
And then I was lost, tossed around in the cyclonic winds of anxiety and pain. My thoughts couldn’t even fully form as I jumped from one terrifying conclusion to another. I imagined mine, Flea’s and Jez’s deaths a thousand times, along with Miazydar’s. I moved the university staff, the ADC and the Aravisian government around like chess pieces, creating more and more horrific scenarios, where the whole nation sought our demise. My sobs turned again now into some kind of primal scream, the sounds from my mouth little more than some kind of animalistic grunting as if I’d lost all higher functions. “Tess!” Keel said, pulling me away from his chest to check on me. “Tess, you’ve got to stop!”
My tears chose not to obey, they ran freely as I hung there, exposed and blinking against the bright light as he held me at arm’s length. Of course he did. Who would want to be anywhere near such a goddam fucking mess? I was disgusting. Snot streamed down my face, my mouth a sodden mess. Of course, Miazydar went. Of course, I’d lost the closest relationship I ever had. I always did. Apart from Ash, who did I have? I had associates and acquaintances. Everyone was fooled by the bright shiny façade I could only partially maintain and when I couldn’t, they left. I’d had drinks with some of the fighters at Battle Club and hung out with my cosplay mates, but who would sit with me through this kind of thing, making sure I was OK? Who would’ve held me tight until I was alright? Only my sister. Mum was appalled by emotional displays and Dad would’ve just felt ineffective and flustered. We always protected Dad. And now I was here, unable to get back to them, facing the long, possibly fatal, walk to Damorica because I’d lost my dragon, if they even let us leave. What could I do against a plasma spear now?
“Oh, Tess…” Keel said and drew out what looked like a handkerchief from his civvies shirt pocket and passed it to me. My ribs shuddered in that horrible way hysterical sobbing forces you to, but I wiped the worst of the mess away. Then what he did next surprised me. He pulled me close, so tightly there was no gap between his body and mine, the heat of it radiating out even through his uniform. His arms were like iron bands, providing the support mine couldn’t right now, holding me until the shaking and the tears began to slow, holding me until the storm began to abate.
I felt absolutely drained, as anyone does after a massive cry and something strange emerged from that. I was at an emotional ground zero, my internal landscape completely flat. I had no more fucks to muster for anything, even myself. I just rested against Keel, caught in the cage of his arms and for that instant, glad for that restriction. It meant I didn’t need to think or feel or work out what to do next for the moment. As I lay there, listening to the steady, soothing thud of his heart, I felt a shift inside me. It felt like deep in my chest something unfurled; it was the only word I could think of to describe it. It felt like a flower opening and then a tiny spark floated free. My mind hissed out, Miazydar?
Yes, I’m coming.
His voice was weak, little more than a whisper. So much so, I almost wondered if I’d conjured the sound myself, but I could feel it now, that fragile connection between us. I sat up straight, Keel’s arms falling away. “He’s coming.”
“Are you sure?” Keel said.
“Yeah, we can touch minds again.” I turned to look at Keel, acutely aware of the massive circle of tear stains on his shirt and my raw, tear scoured face. “God, I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be,” he said. His ever-present smile returned, but it was gentler. “I don’t know you very well, but I’d like to. I’m glad I could help. Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah, thank you.”
“Alright, well, now that your dragon’s safe, should we try and hit the books?” I nodded, feeling relieved and weirdly disappointed we were back to business. “Let’s have a look at the syllabus they want you to get through.”
21
Miazydar appeared in the lounge room in a form no bigger than a rabbit as we were wading through the infighting that happened during the Killkin War of Succession. My eyes jerked up as he dove straight for my arms, nestling in the hollow. He was so small it was almost frightening. “Are you OK? Where have you been?” I asked, but he just curled up and went to sleep, his head resting on my forearm.
“Let’s have a look,” Keel said, moving in closer. “He’s reduced in form. Perhaps that’s a defence mechanism to preserve his strength and fight the inflammation. I don’t want to touch him, he’s obviously exhausted. He’s been through something, that’s for sure.”
“I’m just so glad he’s back,” I said, hunching my body over his, feeling like anything I could do to protect him was good.
“Me too. I’ll go and grab Professor Hand. It would be good to get someone to look him over.” I nodded. “You going to be OK here for a bit?”
“Now he’s back, yeah.”
Professors Hand and Lane came by. They wanted to move him but I refused, my hand straying to the gun when they tried to insist. They didn’t know what it was, but the sleek metal profile obviously conveyed ‘danger, Will Robinson!’ Lane had her phlebotomy kit out again, wanting to get those samples, but even Hand insisted that blood-letting was not in Miazydar’s best interest right now. In the end, they just nodded their heads, said he looked like he was healing from whatever had happened and that I needed to bring him to see them when he was better. I eyed the needles Lane seemed to carry everywhere and considered whether that was a good idea.
Flea walked in, carrying yet another pile of books as they left. His eyebrows shot up when he saw M lying there, still sleeping. He placed them quietly on the table and crept over. He didn’t say anything, just looked up at me w
hen he could see M slept easily, his browny green eyes saying everything that was needed. He settled down next to me on the couch, his arm laying across the back of it, behind my neck.
“So he’s OK?” he whispered.
“I think so,” I said. “He’s definitely been weakened, but it’s probably just like me. He needs some rest.”
“I got a lot of what you were looking for.” He bent over and started sorting through the books. “These probably aren’t as important now, but if you want to find out more about keletha, that’s this pile. From the index, it didn’t say much about dragons. I’m guessing because it doesn’t come from here and why would anyone poison a dragon if they’re your means to gain power? This is an atlas of Aravisia. Might be useful later, but this is the one that might get your interest.” He picked up a thick volume. “This is the history of the Rozenrrath from across the whole continent because the section from Aravisia…” he flipped open the book and then found the page he was looking for, “…is only this thick. The rest is everyone else’s records of them. They’ve been effectively erased from the history books here. You gotta wonder why.”
I did wonder why. I took the book, eyeing the TBR pile which was infinitely more urgent than this. Flea saw my look and said, “Take another day off. You’d have no problems getting it with him the way he is. You could get through a lot of this reading and then start back tomorrow.”
“It’ll be later than that. The day after is the beginning of the weekend. I’ll get caught up on this, but further behind in class.” I looked at the book in my hand again. “Fuck it, I need to know what the deal is with the Rozenrrath.” He patted my knee and then got up to make us some tea.
The Rozenrrath were a dragon rider family, one of the primary backers of the deposed Casteron dynasty during the Killkin War of Succession. Their participation in the Casteron push to retain the throne resulted in the extermination of their line, the deregistration of their name and the destruction of their dragons.
