Linsha listened to Sirenfal’s wheezing exhalations and felt the struggle in the wing muscles near her legs. “I don’t know,” she answered.
“Then we’ll hope for the best,” Callista said. “That’s why we left Ithin’carthia in the first place. So what do we do when get to the Missing City? Obviously I can’t go back to work there as long as the Tarmaks are in control.”
A picture of Callista with a dagger in her hand facing the warrior surfaced in Linsha’s mind, and she smiled at the memory. “You could join the militia-what’s left of it. Where did you learn to cut throats like that?”
“In the militia. Well, from my father really. He was a captain in Iyesta’s militia. He never married my mother, but he cared for me and taught me a few things about fighting and self-defense, and he left some coins for me when he died. I thought about joining the militia because of him.” She shrugged. “But I decided staying in bed late was much better than getting out early, so I followed my mother’s profession.”
“Are you sure you want to go back to the city? There are other places you could go.”
“I know. Perhaps I will. Meanwhile, maybe I could help you?”
Linsha rubbed her temples where a dull ache still lurked in her skull from the priest’s magic and the lack of food. “You would be welcome,” she said. She knew what she was up against. She would take help from anyone willing to offer, especially someone with Callista’s courage. “First though, you should know, that women who befriend me and help me usually end up dead.”
She heard the courtesan’s gasp even over the noise of the dragon’s flight. “What do you mean by that?” Callista asked.
“I just wanted you to be aware. Women I like tend to die, just like the men I like tend to be rogues, liars, and general bastards.”
“Or bastard generals,” Callista said, trying a light tone. “It’s just your profession, and the circumstances. I’m sure if you were a seamstress in a quiet little village, your friends would live to a ripe old age. And your man would still be a rogue. I’ll take my chances.”
Linsha felt a warm rush of relief and gratitude. She hadn’t planned to ask the courtesan for any more assistance, for she had already done far more for Linsha than expected or hoped for. But since Callista offered-and was still willing to risk her life-she wouldn’t say no. “If you’re serious, the first thing I want to do is find Varia.”
“Oh, she’s probably in the Tarmak headquarters. When Lanther gave me his instructions to take care of you. I also heard him tell an officer to take the owl and keep it alive until he came back or the man would die a slow and brutal death.”
“That sounds like Lanther. Good! Varia first, then Crucible. We’ll have to ride up to Duntollik to find the remnants of Wanderer’s tribe and a shaman named Danian.”
She thought she heard the faintest sigh behind her, but Callista agreed willingly enough. For someone who liked to loll in bed past dawn, the courtesan was as game as any newly knighted Solamnic.
“You really fell for him, didn’t you?” Callista asked after a moment of silence. “A dragon and a man. That will not be easy.”
Linsha twisted around to face the courtesan, but her eyes gazed far away to a dark horizon. “I met an elf once. Gilthanas. He was a friend of my grandparents who fell in love with a Kagonesti elf. When he found out she was really a silver dragon, he was furious and hurt, and he drove her away. He told me years later that his pride pushed Silvara away because he had been too proud to admit how deeply he loved her and how deeply her lie had wounded him. He was wandering through the world on the edge of insanity trying to find her. I don’t want to end like that. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life regretting that single moment of pride and anger on the battlefield.” Her eyes focused again on Callista. “Do you believe it’s possible to have a relationship with a dragon?”
The girl patted Sirenfal’s scaly back. “Why not? Most dragonriders are connected to their dragons in ways far deeper and more subtle than most humans are with each other. You have the advantage of being a woman drawn to a dragon who spends much of his time as a man. There could be… advantages.”
Linsha hardly knew what to say. She realized she was deeply attached to Crucible and for years she had been attracted to Lord Bight. But the revelation that they were one and the same had stunned her beyond rational thought. All she could accept now was that she missed Crucible fiercely and she was furious at Lord Bight for lying to her. How could she reconcile the two? And would it matter if she did? She didn’t know with any certainty how he felt about her. Perhaps it didn’t matter one whit to him what she felt for him. After all she was only human. Perhaps this was just another instance of her wretched luck with men.
“Of course it won’t be easy for him either,” Callista pointed out. “If he loves you, he will have to watch you grow old and die much sooner than he will.”
“Or he could die the day after you return,” Sirenfal interjected, entering the conversation for the first time. She tipped her head around so they could see the glow of her eyes. “Take what you are given and let the future work itself out. You worry that he is a dragon? Perhaps that is an insurmountable problem. For most people it would be. But the Tarmaks did not call you the Drathkin’kela for your skill with a sword or your green eyes. We have joined our thoughts, and I have felt a power in you, a sympathy for dragons many humans do not have. If Crucible is willing, a relationship between the two of you could be very beneficial.”
Behind the dragon’s words, Linsha heard the echo of another dragon’s voice. The bond formed between a dragon and a human is worth the effort to forge it. Iyesta had told her that in a vision, but she hadn’t explained any further or tried to discuss the difficulties of a human-dragon bonding.
More than anyone else, Linsha wished she could talk to her brother, Ulin, at that moment. He was the only one in the family who would understand. He had been a dragon mage and had formed a deep friendship with a gold dragon named Sunrise. If there was anyone who could help her sort this out, it would be him. But he was gods knew where, and all she could do was find Crucible-if he was still alive-and try to work this out for herself. If he was dead… there would be nothing to do but grieve.
“I need to rest again,” Sirenfal told her two riders. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Linsha said. “You are the one doing all the work.”
She and Callista held fast as the dragon banked down and landed in the sea again. Sirenfal spread her wings, tucked in her head, and was immediately asleep. The women shared a little water and ate some dried bread, then Linsha kept watch while Callista slept. The courtesan had finally relaxed a little on dragonback and was able to sleep for a time.
When the crescent moon rose late in the night, Linsha woke Callista for her turn at watch, then she leaned against Sirenfal’s warm neck and tried to sleep. The waves were a little rougher that night and the air was a little colder, a sign that they were moving closer to the southern seas and the approach of winter. But how much closer? How far had they come already? They were certainly flying faster than the Tarmak ship had sailed, and even with Sirenfal’s numerous rests, they would arrive at the Plains faster than two weeks. But how much faster? Could they get to land before the food and water ran out? And what about food for Sirenfal? She was already skin and bones, and she did not have any strength in reserve. Maybe she could eat fish. As for that, she was a dragon with a powerful breath weapon. Maybe she would be willing to use her hot breath to cook a few fish for her riders.