As she returned to the cavern, she paused at the entrance and tilted her head back to catch some of the runoff from overhead in her mouth, relishing the taste and feel of the cool water. Despite drinking her fill, Leyloni was only reminded of her deep, gnawing hunger.
Serek’s giggles echoed within the cavern, creating a fleeting impression that there were several babies inside rather than just one. Leyloni’s heart lurched, hit by a fresh wave of sorrow. So much had been lost. There were so many faces she’d never see again outside her memories, her dreams. How long before those faces faded in her mind’s eye?
It would have been so easy to lie down beneath that crushing sorrow and give up. It would have been so easy to have stayed with the tribe and fought to the death rather than face this journey into the unknown. But Leyloni had to keep going, she had to ensure that her people had a chance to live on through herself and Serek.
She stepped into the cavern. Arysteon was no longer near the entrance, but he was impossible to miss. He had moved to the far side of the fire, and his scales gleamed in its light, granting him an otherworldly beauty.
Serek crawled with delighted determination toward the spiky end of Arysteon’s tail. Just as the baby reached for his target, Arysteon lifted it away, triggering fresh laughter from Serek.
The dragon shifted a little farther away from Serek and laid his tail in wait again.
The sight of them playing and the sound of Arysteon’s rumbling chuckles blending with Serek’s squealing laughs chased away Leyloni’s sadness and warmed her heart. She watched, silent and smiling, as the slow chase continued in a wide circle around the fire, unable to ignore the joy that shone in the dragon’s bright eyes.
She walked to the fire, where she laid out the wet diaper cloth to dry. Removing her waterskin from her bag, she set it aside and turned to the branches Arysteon had brought, plucking a couple of the ripest looking sunfruits and placing them down beside the waterskin.
Leyloni glanced up at Arysteon, whose eyes met hers. For an instant, there was a heat in his gaze like she had never seen, but it was not the sort of heat that inspired fear—instead, it sent a pulse of desire straight to her core.
His eyes swung away, breaking that brief spell, and he lifted his tail, narrowly avoiding Serek’s thrusting hand.
“I suppose I ought not to let my guard down with you, little hatchling,” he said with a chuckle, resuming his slow journey around the fire.
Leyloni stared at him, dumbfounded. Had she truly seen that fire in his eyes, or had she imagined it?
It…it must have been my imagination. Why would he look at me like a male lusting for a female? He is a dragon, and I am human.
It is simply exhaustion. One night of sound sleep was not enough.
She was still tired, both physically and emotionally, and it was causing her to see things that weren’t there—that was the only explanation. The heat in his eyes had merely been a trick of the fire light, a matter of the way his head had been angled…
But what of her body’s reaction to him?
Serek’s delighted laughter shattered her thoughts, which she gratefully shoved aside to focus on the game the baby and the dragon were playing.
In the wake of all that had happened, all the suffering, pain, and death she and Serek had endured over the last several days, this little bit of innocent joy was exactly what she needed. It could not erase her pain, but it could outshine it for a little while.
Of all the things she might have anticipated happening on this journey, encountering a friendly dragon who was willing to play games with a baby would never have been one of them.
Leyloni grinned as she sat down, drew her knife from her belt—which was still on the floor—and set to carving the sunfruit. Before long, her cheeks were warm and aching. She pressed her lips together, trying to suppress the grin, but it wouldn’t go away.
She waited until Arysteon led Serek close before plucking the baby off the floor and drawing him onto her lap. He wriggled for a moment, and it broke her heart to hear him cry in his desperation to reach Arysteon again, but he quickly settled when she handed him a slice of sunfruit.
Arysteon moved to the opposite side of the fire and lay down, keeping his head raised but stretching his body out. The end of his tail was lost in the shadows.
Leyloni picked up another slice of fruit for herself. They wouldn’t be able to live off sunfruit alone—and it seemed only to strengthen her hunger rather than satisfy it—but it was something. It would at least sustain her long enough to hunt for something more substantial when the weather was favorable.
“Is there are certain place you intend to travel, Leyloni,” Arysteon said, breaking the relative silence, “or was your only goal escape?”
His question came just as she bit into the soft, spongy flesh of the sunfruit. Leyloni dipped her head, catching the juice dripping down her chin with the back of her hand. She chewed slowly, torn on whether to answer him honestly, on whether it would be a betrayal to the Snow Tree tribe to reveal their location. Not that she even knew the exact location of their village—all she had were general directions and a description of the area she was looking for.
But her hesitation was brief. Yes, Arysteon was a dragon, a potentially dangerous creature, but he’d not once endangered Leyloni and Serek. She didn’t believe he would be a threat to the Snow Trees, either.
“There is another tribe that my people trade with—” Her throat constricted around the words, and her mouth fell into a deep frown. “A tribe that my people used to trade with that resides far to the northeast, across the Endless Forest. Somewhere near the sandy shores. Because of past trading, they share some blood ties with my tribe. They would welcome us, and we would be safe there.”
She looked down at the baby in her lap and handed him another slice of fruit. “Serek would have been sent there, traded for another male, when he reached maturity.”
Arysteon lowered his head to rest his chin on the floor. His scaled brow ridges were low over his eyes, which appeared suddenly troubled. “I do not understand. Your people would trade your clanmates? Send them away?”
Leyloni turned her face back toward Arysteon. “It is vital to every tribe to make sure our bloodlines remain clean. Children are rare, male children even more so. Serek was the first male born to our tribe since I was very young.”
“How old are you?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “It is not easy for me to determine with humans.”
“I have seen twenty summers.”
Arysteon’s nostrils flared with a heavy exhalation. “So young.”
Leyloni cocked her head and arched a brow. “I am a woman.”
His eyes roved over her slowly, again flaring with that heat. “Indeed you are, Leyloni.”
Warmth flooded her anew, and she hid her face by tipping it down to look at Serek. She felt Arysteon’s gaze lingering on her—she felt the desire in it.
I did not imagine it…
But she still couldn’t understand. Why would a dragon look at her—at any human—with such longing?
He is lonely, just as I am. It is nothing more than…a longing for companionship.
Leyloni tucked her unruly curls behind her ear before reaching for the waterskin and helping Serek take a drink. He placed his small, pudgy hands atop hers, squeezing her fingers, as his dark eyes—so innocent, so trusting—met her gaze. Her heart clenched.
Serek had been immensely important to the Moss tribe from the moment of his birth, but Leyloni was astonished at how quickly this little one was coming to mean so much to her.
A thoughtful hum rumbled from Arysteon’s chest. “My people had suffered a similar problem as yours, though it was reversed. No females were birthed in my clan during my time with them. That was problematic as our males came of age, for they were without dragonesses to court and mate. Several of them left in search of mates over our long years of travel.”
Leyloni peeked at Arysteon from the corner of her eye. “Did
you?”
“No. I remained with the clan until the end. When my sire passed, it was my duty to lead them. I refused to abandon my kin. I vowed to lead them to a haven. But by the time I finally discovered this place, I was alone.” There was a sorrowful note in the dragon’s voice that granted his words power.
Leyloni felt it deep in her heart. She frowned and smoothed her palm over the top of Serek’s head. He picked up another slice of sunfruit and gnawed at the rind until he found the soft meat, oblivious to the solemnity of Leyloni and Arysteon’s conversation.
The sounds of the fire and the rain took prominence as Leyloni and Serek ate. She felt the pressure of her own sadness threatening to crash down upon her, but she held it at bay. She needed to remain strong.
Arysteon shifted just a little closer, his scales rasping softly over the floor. “It is a very long way to the sea, and it is dangerous for you and hatchling to make that journey alone. You may stay here, with me. I will protect you both. There is nothing in this part of the forest that can stand against me.”
Leyloni could hear the longing in his tone, the sincerity of his offer, and it struck her down to her very soul. The word yes was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back and shook her head. “Serek is vital to our survival,” she said. “Not just for our tribe, but…our kind. It is my duty to bring him where he will be safe, where he will be cared for. And where he will one day be able to sire another generation.”
Arysteon released another long, slow breath, and shifted his head in a shallow nod without lifting it off the floor. His tongue flicked out after he inhaled. Closing his eyes, he said, “I understand, Leyloni. I understand what it means to have a duty to fulfill to one’s clan.”
Leyloni’s fingers tingled with the desire to touch him, to comfort him in that most basic fashion, to show him that they understood each other, that she was here with him if only for now. She tensed her muscles to keep from acting upon that urge.
She could almost envision a life here with him. Simple, quiet, contented. Only the three of them and Mother Eurynome’s bounty. They would be safe and secure. Even the Bone Wraiths wouldn’t challenge a dragon, would they?
But Leyloni could not shun her responsibility. She could not allow the sacrifices her tribe had made to have been in vain. She had to get Serek to other humans, where he would contribute to carrying on their tribal bloodlines, their species. That was her duty.
And yet, for the first time in Leyloni’s life, she was tempted to defy duty to remain here at Arysteon’s side.
5
Leyloni opened her eyes. Everything was so still, so quiet, the sounds of rumbling thunder and pattering rain from outside having taken on a distant gentleness.
Yet all was not still and quiet within Leyloni. In her mind, she was back home, surrounded by her tribe sisters as they fought the Bone Wraiths amidst roaring fire, acrid smoke, and piercing screams. It had all been so chaotic, so difficult to decipher, but each death she’d witnessed remained startlingly clear in her memory.
Those images, those memories, had risen in the dream from which she’d just woken—but unlike most dreams she’d had, this one refused to fade.
Something wet trickled along her nose. She was confused at first, wondering how the rain had reached her this far inside the cavern. It took her a moment to realize that her eyes were also wet—that she was crying. That realization only summoned more tears. They spilled from her eyes in a deluge, and she could no longer hold back the pain and crippling loss that had been clawing at her chest for days.
Leyloni squeezed her eyes shut. She struggled to choke back her sobs, releasing them in harsh, stilted exhalations.
Serek stirred against her. She opened her eyes and caught her bottom lip between her teeth to silence herself. Loosening her hold on the baby, she eased away from him, straining against her sorrow but desperate not to disturb his sleep. She’d only just lifted her arm away from him when a shuddering sniffle escaped her.
She shifted the blanket to tucked more of it around Serek and turned to lie on her side, facing the low burning fire. The flames were an orange blur through her tears.
“What is wrong, Leyloni?” Arysteon’s voice rolled to her like one of those far away peals of thunder. It was soothing, grounding, a welcome sound—and it pushed away some of the phantom screams from her memory.
Though she did not want anyone to see her tears, she could not stand to be alone with her grief in that moment. Freeing a hand from the blanket, she wiped her eyes, and her gaze fell upon Arysteon as soon as it was clear.
He was curled up on the floor on the other side of the fire, his head raised and his glowing gaze on her. He eased his head closer. His pupils rounded, and his spines flared. “Why are your eyes leaking? Are you ill?”
Leyloni huffed a soft laugh. It was enough of a balm to soothe some of her pain. “You have not seen a human cry before?”
“I have heard humans cry out, but this… This is something different, is it not?”
She laid her hand upon the blanket in front of her and sighed. “It is. I cry because I am mourning.”
His spines fell flat, and his eyes softened. “Mourning your lost tribe.”
“Yes.”
Leyloni pushed herself into a sitting position, moving slowly to stretch her limbs. Once she was upright, she became suddenly aware of the chill in the air, and a shiver raced up her spine. She looked toward the cavern’s opening to see only darkness.
“Morning is near,” Arysteon said, “but the sun has yet to rise.” He lifted himself up on his front legs and reached out, plucking a few sticks from the pile Leyloni had gathered.
She watched, awed by the dexterity he managed despite his size—and the size of those long, wicked claws—as he carefully added the sticks to the fire. The flames flared, and she leaned into the fresh wave of warmth they emitted.
“Thank you,” she said.
Arysteon tilted his head. “Will that suffice, or shall I add more?”
Leyloni glanced over at Serek, who was still wrapped snugly in the blanket, before returning her gaze to Arysteon. “A little more, please.”
The dragon nodded and complied, once again plucking up some kindling between his claws. A small smile crept onto Leyloni’s lips. She’d seen many humans who were but a fraction of Arysteon’s size and yet could not move with such care and delicacy.
“Thank you.” Leyloni drew her legs up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and rested her chin upon her knees. “Were you sleeping?”
“I was, but it was a light slumber. When a dragon truly sleeps, little can wake him.”
Leyloni looked into his violet eyes, which were bright with curiosity and concern, and worried her lower lip. Everything was still present in the forefront of her mind—all that pain and loss, all that grief. Her eyes stung, and a fresh sheen of tears blinded her.
She felt the sound before she truly heard it—a low, resonating hum, somehow as gentle as it was powerful. Leyloni knew simply by that duality that the hum was coming from Arysteon. She blinked away her tears and wiped her eyes to look at him again.
The dragon’s snout was angled toward the ceiling, and Leyloni could just barely make out the muscles moving beneath his throat scales, could almost see those scales vibrating. As she stared at him, his hum took shape—it became a song that was far more complex than any she’d ever heard, brimming with feeling and emotion, with purpose.
Gradually, he added new layers to the song—accompanying hums of different timbres, a soft buzzing that was reminiscent of insect calls in the summer, and a high pitched, keening sound that wove through it all, too muted to be piercing but impossible to ignore. The song was…sorrowful. Pained. Mournful. But that sense did not last. An underlying melody emerged, slowly rising to overcome the other threads of music.
There was something hopeful in that new melody. Something joyous and comforting. Leyloni closed her eyes and listened, allowing his song to connect with her grief, allowing it
to soothe her. It could not eliminate her pain, but somehow that music assured her everything would, one day, be all right. Life would continue. New happiness could be found.
The song faded layer by layer just as it had built up, until only that hopeful melody remained. Its final note lingered in the air, so soft, so beautiful, so full of promise for the future. Leyloni’s chest tightened, and she pressed her lips together. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes to trickle down her cheeks. As relative silence settled over the chamber again, she knew.
Arysteon understood her pain.
The differences between human and dragon did not matter in this. He understood how she felt; he’d experienced it himself. But right here, right now, she was not facing it alone.
Leyloni opened her eyes and smiled. “That was beautiful.”
Arysteon lowered his head, settling his gaze upon her once again. “It is a song of mourning for my clan,” he said softly. “I offer it for yours, as well.”
Not for the first time, her fingers twitched with the urge to touch him, to stroke his scales, to find out if they were rough or smooth, to offer even a tiny bit of comfort in return for all he’d given her. Instead, she wiped the moisture from her eyes and wrapped her arms around her legs again, hugging them close to her chest and locking her fingers together.
“Thank you, Arysteon.” She dropped her gaze to the fire. “I dreamed of them again, as I have every night since the raid. I keep seeing my tribe sisters fall, their blood spilling upon the floor planks, keep seeing the flames devouring our home. And…I keep seeing my father.”
The dragon stretched his neck toward her and lowered his head onto the floor within a few paces of her. “I will listen if you wish to speak of it. I will share in your burden.”
As she studied him again, she could not help wondering what it would feel like to lean against him, to be wrapped up in his body, to be cocooned by his heat. He wasn’t far from her, and his draconic body seemed to take up so much space within the cavern, but Leyloni couldn’t shake her loneliness. She needed the reassurance of physical contact.
To Love A Dragon; Venys Needs Men Page 5
