by Jo Beverley
“Except Virgins of the Blood. It’s something to do with the mind. A dragon can’t eat unwilling victims. They seem able to make animals want to be eaten, but not people.”
“But they ate the princesses. They could hardly have been happy about it.”
“They could with enough hralla.”
“I’m safe, then,” she joked. “I need only stay away from soothing tea.”
It fell flat. Rozlinda reminded herself not to attempt jokes until she understood the Dornae, if she ever did. With that in mind, she asked more questions and learned that the dragoners lived with the dragons on a rocky plateau called the dragonlands, while the other Dornae lived in the lower, fertile areas called, for some reason, the Dragons’ Gift. The dragoner families each had some dragons as part of their family, but the dragons also formed a tribe of their own in some way. Doubtless it would make sense one day.
Dorn had no castles or grand homes, but Ro had a house as part of a group of houses belonging to his family. They ate little meat, but kept some poultry and small animals, which were not worth the dragons’ effort to eat. There were fish from the highland lake and some from the sea, but the rough coast made fishing difficult.
The dragons mostly ate rock and earth, and the small plants and creatures that came along with them. They ate some fish from the lake, and even from the sea, now and then. It was only for egg-laying and long flight that they needed large amounts of blood.
Rozlinda listened and learned, but weariness caught up with her and she had to ask for a stop long before he was ready for one.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“I’m sorry not to have realized how hard this would be for you. We will simply take longer to reach Dorn.”
Rozlinda was of two minds about that. Dorn still loomed in a foreboding way, but she longed for rest, for his proper house, a bath and a bed—with all that promised.
“If you can walk just a little farther, there’s a small lake.”
“Of course,” she said, though she feared her walk had become a trudge.
She didn’t know how he knew about the lake, but they crossed some rough land and clambered through trees to a tiny, pebbled bay on a narrow strip of water. She slumped down on a rock, resisting the urge to apologize again. She would get stronger. Clearly, she’d have to.
He climbed back into nearby woods and returned with a bowlful of berries. When she smiled as she thanked him, he smiled back. Things were definitely better. He looked up. “She comes.”
Seesee swept down and plunged right into the lake, disappearing below the surface with something that sounded in the mind a lot like a child’s Wheeeeee!
Rozlinda couldn’t help laughing. “She likes water, I gather.”
“Oh yes. We live around a lake and they spend a lot of time in it. There’s sea nearby, as well, but it’s rougher. Dragons are all for an easy life.”
Rozlinda couldn’t tell if Seesee swam or walked, but she came into the shallows and lay there, slurping in water. Then bubbles and steam erupted near her back end, and a whiff of sulfur drifted over.
“Fart,” Ro said.
Rozlinda giggled, feeling more hopeful about everything. She stood up. “I’ll just go into the woods.”
But he rose. “No, I’ll go and collect more berries. You’ll be more comfortable here.”
Rozlinda wasn’t sure about relieving herself in view of the dragon, but Seesee seemed oblivious, so she went behind a rock. Afterward, she opened her bag, took out her soap and cloth, and went to the lake’s edge to wash.
Ripples spoke of the dragon’s lazy movements, but otherwise the world lay still around her. It was eerie to one who’d lived her life in a busy castle, but strangely beautiful. Was it like this on the edge of the lake in Dorn?
Bigger lake. Lovely lake. Home!
Home. Hers, too, and she wanted to fit in.
Rozlinda looked around and saw no sign of Ro, so she pulled out the strange clothes. She hid as much behind the rock as possible before untying the veil from around her waist and taking off her dress. The air was chilly, but that wasn’t the only reason she shivered.
She braced to take off her shift, but paused. If she kept it on, it would veil her legs down to the calf. She quickly pulled the tunic on over it and fastened the loops to the neck. It would doubtless look ridiculous to a Dornaan, but it felt much better to her.
She sat to pull on the yellow hose, but they wouldn’t fit over her full, lace-frilled drawers. She wasted time trying to think of a way around it, but then took off the drawers and hurried into the tiny substitutes. They were little better than bare skin, so she worked swiftly at pulling on the yellow legs and wriggling the top up to her waist, where she tied the strings.
She looked down at yellow legs, longing for a mirror. But perhaps not. How any woman could walk around uncovered to the thigh she couldn’t imagine. She was pulling on the boots when waves splashed up onto the pebbles, almost reaching her.
She hastily moved farther up and saw that Seesee had shifted so that her snout was close to shore, and was using her long tongue to flick this stone and that into her mouth. She crunched with relish. Ro had said they ate rocks.
Tongue still gathering rocks, Seesee said. Rocks yummy.
She kept forgetting that the dragon could pick up her thoughts.
Nice clothes.
At least someone approved.
Or had it been yummy clothes, referring to the discarded dress and veil? She suspected it had.
“Sorry, Seesee. It’s all supposed to go back home.”
Everything should be as it should be.
It was peculiar to see the flick-crunch continue without pause as words formed in her head.
“Is everything as it should be?” Rozlinda asked, walking over to be closer, wondering if she could ask Seesee about Ro.
The long tongue slid sideways to flick her shift. Clothes funny.
“I feel half-naked. But then I suppose that makes no sense to you.”
Flick, crunch. People funny.
“Funny ha-ha, or funny peculiar?”
What a stupid question to ask, but the more she conversed like this, the more natural it seemed. Seesee’s “voice” was a deep rumble that should go with wise, aged eyes, but at the same time she often seemed innocently young.
Both. We like people. They do things.
“Do dragons not do things?”
Without people, not much.
“People do a lot of stupid things.”
Funny, Seesee agreed.
Did Ro realize that dragons regarded people as amusement? He must. As Seesee was chatting, she’d try for more information. “How many dragons are there?”
Too few.
The same unhelpful answer.
“Too few for what?”
Rouar unhappy. Seesee’s head swung around and her tongue flicked at the shift again, more strongly.
Rozlinda jumped back. “No, Seesee. You can’t have it. I need it.”
That tongue could stretch to extraordinary length. Seesee seemed to hook the shift and pull, dragging Zlinda to the water’s edge. She was about to scream for help when the dragon spat it out, slimed all down one side.
“Oh, Seesee! Why did you do that?”
She couldn’t stop it from sounding like a complaint to a young child. She crouched by the water’s edge to try to wash it.
The water retreated as Seesee slurped.
“Give it back!”
She’d swear Seesee laughed.
The water level settled back, but Rozlinda gave up. She wasn’t going to be able to get the viscous drool off without soaking herself.
When she felt a brush at the back of her thighs, she whirled. “You stop it! I don’t know what it is with you and silk, but stop it. Right now.” She was hand on hips, leaning forw
ard, glaring at one huge red eye. Which blinked. Seesee resumed flicking stones into her mouth and crunching them.
Rozlinda wanted to rant on, but the dragon had stopped as requested.
Good rocks here.
All right. Rozlinda was definitely interested in the subject of dragon food. “But you like blood, too?”
Yes.
“Especially princess blood?”
Now.
Rozlinda didn’t hear any threat, but she retreated. She liked Seesee, but she didn’t fool herself that she understood her. Perhaps a princess would round out a meal of stones perfectly. She heard a noise behind and turned to see Ro returning. Thank heavens. He stopped and looked her over.
“You probably think I look ridiculous.”
“No.” He offered her more berries.
Rozlinda knew she shouldn’t, but as she took some she said, “I hoped you’d be pleased.”
“I am. It’s the sensible thing to do.”
Sensible. Admit it. She’d hoped he’d find her pretty in Dornaan dress. She’d hoped he’d forget she was part of the people who had killed his dragon aunt, or sister, or mother, or whatever Cheelus had been.
She pulled herself together. “I don’t know what to do with my gown and veil, with all of it. They should go back to the castle if the ritual is to be complete.”
“All should be as it should be. Why not bundle the dress in the veil?”
Rozlinda made as small a bundle as she could, and tied it to her pack. It wasn’t heavy, only bulky, but all the same, she resented that he wasn’t offering to carry it.
Was she wise to try to be cheerful and adaptable? Perhaps she’d get better results by complaints and weeping fits, like Aurora and Izzy. It wasn’t in her nature, however, so when Seesee came out of the water, she climbed back on, deliberately grateful not to be walking.
She had to admit that her new clothing was definitely better for dragon riding. She could sit astride and felt much more secure. Even so, she was glad Ro circled her waist again—more snugly, now that the bulky veil was gone.
They took off, and she immediately felt a difference.
She’d never ridden anything astride before, and the undulations of the dragon’s wings set up a rhythm between her thighs. Her mouth dried. Breathing normally became an effort, but she had to because his arm was around her and he might notice.
His arm. She wanted to stroke those fine, pale hairs.
Seesee flew on for longer than before. Had Ro decided to hurry to Dorn after all? Dorn, where they could complete this marriage. Oh yes, hurry, hurry to Dorn.
Her left hand rested now on the hard heat of his arm. Flexed there, reveling. His hand moved, fingers stroking just below her breast. Rozlinda tried to stay still. He might not know what he was doing, the sweet magic he was creating. If she moved, he might stop.
If he did know, did it mean they didn’t have to wait until they reached Dorn? Oh, please . . .
The sun was sinking lower in the sky, bleaching blue but hinting at fiery red.
His thumb began to stroke the underside of her breast, protected now only by fine shift and light tunic. She leaned back into him, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Wouldn’t notice the flexing of her buttocks, either, or the depths of her breaths. His hand slid upward so his thumb could brush her astonishingly sensitive nipple.
Her breathing broke, her vision clouded and when she felt his lips at her neck, she stretched her head, welcoming him. It wasn’t enough. She twisted to meet his lips.
Ah! Heady heat. Hunger.
The space was too tight for her to turn completely, but doing the husband-wife thing on a dragon no longer appalled her, not even when the dragon was probably amused.
Without a care for being high above the earth, she scrambled up and turned to sit facing Ro. She grabbed his head and kissed him hotly, deeply, thighs spread over his, swelling heat pressing into her throbbing ache, a strange vibration making her want to scream with pleasure.
She broke free to breathe, to grab his clothing. “Off. How?”
But he captured her hands. “No, no, we can’t, we can’t.” He panted it like a man at the end of a desperate race, his eyes dark, sweat running. “Zlinda, we can’t!”
Whether on command or on her own, Seesee plunged downward. Ro was thrown forward onto Rozlinda, so she claimed another kiss. She hardly noticed when Seesee landed, but then stillness surrounded them. Yet that vibration still ravished her, body and mind.
“What is that?” she whispered, head to head with Ro.
“Dragon.” He said something in Dornaan, then shook his head, clearly struggling to make sense. “Dragon mating.”
“That’s what happens when they mate?”
Another head shake. “They don’t. No sexes. Or both. That’s what happens when we mate. When dragoners mate.”
“Wow.”
They were both sucking in deep, deep breaths, seemingly in synchrony. Perhaps she was running with sweat, too. She ached.
“Why can’t we? Why?”
He took a deeper breath, let it out slowly and then helped her to stand. He took out his knife and cut off her shift at tunic hem.
“What?”
He ran off the dragon, carrying the bundle of her dress as well as the strip of shift. He tossed everything by the dragon’s snout. “Are you insane?” he said.
Seesee merely blinked.
“Doesn’t your survival matter to you? Doesn’t Dorn’s?”
Dorn survive without dragons.
“Tak durol.”
Not true.
“Grashectalix!”
Happy.
“Fict!”
Rozlinda stumbled her way to Ro’s side and grabbed his sleeve. “What’s going on? Talk Saragondan!”
You and your Zlinda have babies. Dragons enjoy your babies. Happy. True.
Ro turned to Rozlinda, and she saw tears.
“What?” She brushed them away, but couldn’t touch the anguish in his eyes. “Tell me.”
He looked down at her hand, which he took in his. “This has all been a lie, Zlinda. I’m not taking you back to Dorn to be my wife. I’m taking you back to be the Sacrificial Virgin Princess in truth.”
“You mean . . .”
“To feed your blood to Seesee so she can lay eggs. But I can’t do it anymore.” He turned back to the dragon. “Because she has been smearing you with dragon drool.”
Rozlinda looked at the severed bottom of her shift—the part Seesee had deliberately sucked by the lake. “Why, Seesee?”
Like babies. Like Ro’s babies. Like Zlinda’s babies. Happy.
But it was all beginning to sink in, to become a block of ice in the heart. “So it was all to get the SVP back to Dorn for this sacrifice, and the passion was all drool. You really should send some of that in the tribute,” she added bitterly. “It’d be a huge hit.”
“Zlinda, don’t.” He reached, but halted himself before he touched. “Yes, that was the plan, but in hours it was dust in my hands. I admired your courage, your willingness to try to make something good out of your situation. Drool, queen drool, has sped everything to lightning speed, but my feelings are real.”
“How can you tell?” she snapped, wrapping her arms around herself. “You’ll still sacrifice me?”
“No.”
“Not true.”
“I can’t do it.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Return you to your home.”
“A discarded wife? No, thank you. You married me. You will take me with you.”
“I can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“Because then someone else will kill you and I won’t be able to stop it.”
“But why? Seesee wouldn’t eat my blood.” She turned to the dragon. “Would you?
”
Yes.
“Why?”
Have eggs.
Dazed, Rozlinda backed so she stood equidistant from both man and dragon head, even though confronting Seesee added nothing to understanding.
“You will explain everything to me. Everything.”
Chapter 9
By the time Ro had finished, Rozlinda had been drawn back to his side, to hold his hand, to move into his arms. Entwined, they sat against Seesee’s head, close to one big eye.
“So without my blood, there will be no eggs, and in time, no dragons.” She knew the answer, but asked, “All my blood?”
Too much for life.
Was there sadness in the dragon’s words, or was she adding that herself because she wanted the dragon to care? She settled into thought, but no amount of thought changed anything. She sighed. “I am the SVP. I will do my duty.”
“No, you won’t,” Ro said.
“What is one life compared to a race? Two races, for you seem to think the Dornae will die out with the dragons.”
“I was exaggerating. Our way of life will die out, but we’ll adapt.”
Dragoners go where dragons go.
Rozlinda swiveled to Seesee. “When the dragons die, the dragoners will die?”
“That’s not true,” Ro stated.
True.
It seemed to surprise him. “Why?”
Dragon things. You eat. You change. No more dragon things. You sicken. You die.
“That settles it, then,” Rozlinda said.
“No it doesn’t.”
She looked at him. “Where does mother stone come from?”
“From Dorn. Why?”
“I know that. I mean exactly where. Is it from dragons?”
“Everything on Dorn is from dragons. Everything of importance.”
“Then where does mother stone come from?”
He looked wary. “Dragon dung.”
“Dung!”
“It’s our fertilizer, but it also contains useful minerals. Because they eat rocks, we assume. Dragon-eye jewels and what you call mother stone, among other things.”
“Hralla?” she asked. “Versuli?”
“Versuli’s from drool. Hralla is a plant that only grows on the dragonlands.”
