The firelight had begun to dim. Dragonfire, it seems, burned hotter than normal tire, for that great log was nearly burned out. It had served its purpose, though, for my chill was gone. I felt warm and welcome. "Does not your fire need more wood, littling?" he asked.
That was when I did one of the bravest and (had I known it) wisest things of my life.
"No," I said. "Let it die out. Then I can't be dazzled by the look of this place, nor by the look of you." I grinned up at him. "The best talks I ever had were at night when the lights were all out. I don't have a blanket, but my cloak will serve, and if you will let me sit near you I'm not likely to get cold." I looked around. "I still don't like caves, but then again I don't think you'll let anything get me."
I was rewarded by a blast of steam. I was surprised, but the warmth was wonderful even though I had thought I was warm enough. I discovered that it was the Akorian version of a guffaw. "Bravely spoken, Lanen, well said! Let no creature small or great enter here, where Akor the Silver King guards Lanen of the Gedrishakrim!"
And just like that the air was cleared of old anger, of the foolishness of others, of anything that was not of the two of us. Laughter is more powerful than many arguments.
As the tire died we arranged ourselves. I was astounded to hear myself ordering him in jest to shift his tail, move his wing this way or that to accommodate me. I think he was a little surprised, too, but he was also amused, and it seemed that among them it was also true that friendship has such licence. We found ourselves curled up together in the corner on the floor of gold (which by the bye was not comfortable for me at all), under the opening that led to the sky. I sat leaning against his warm side wrapped in my cloak. His head rested on his forelegs, his wings folded back so they were out of my way. We watched the dying tire flicker on the wall, enjoying simply being together as we believed no two of our races had ever been.
"It is quite beautiful here, Akor," I said, quietly. "I meant to tell you that. And the firelight on the go—on the kadish is warm and comforting."
"I am glad, littling." He looked at me with unfathomable eyes. "And I am glad also that the fear you carried has left you. Will you speak with me of this?" "
"Not now, please—soon, in a moment, but this is so lovely I don't want to spoil it."
"Very well. Then what shall we speak of, here in this loveliness, across the long aeons of separation?"
I grinned. "To begin with, what in the world made you practice landing like that?"
He laughed, as I had hoped he would. Nice and warm. "It was foolishness, as I suspect you know," he replied. "I had dreamt—I was recovering after my last Weh sleep and the ferrinshadik was heavy upon me, and I had to do something about it or burst, so I imagined that I had somehow a friend among the Gedri who wished to fly."
He had to tell me what ferrinshadik was; it was a familiar feeling, and I was pleased to learn that someone had made a word for it. As for his upright landing, he sounded proud of himself even as he made light of it. "Awkward it is still, but it worked." I heard the grin in his voice. "I am glad you did not see me practicing. You would never have consented to leave the ground."
The fire was dying.
"Probably not." I shook my head. "I still can't believe I was flying. It was wonderful."
"Would that you had wings, my Lanen. I think flying would delight you."
And I sighed with longing for wings, and scales, and the Winds to bear me up.
She took in a deep breath and blew it all out at once. Very peculiar. I had to know. "What does that signify?"
She was silent a moment. "It’s called a sigh," she said, with a kind of melancholy in her voice. "I'm not sure I can tell you just what it means, though I thought I heard one from you not so long ago. I was sitting here longing to have wings and fly, to be a—one of your Kindred, and knowing how impossible it is. It made me a little sad, in a way I can't do anything about. Nothing too awful."
The fire was glowing embers, bright red still and warm, but even in such a minor thing I heard the true sadness in her heart. "Forgive me, dearling, I must ask you again. You know there can be no more secrets between us. I pray you, speak to me of your sadness, and of the fear that darkened our meeting this night."
"You're right, it’s time." She told me the story of Maran and Marik as Jamie had told it to her, then all that had happened since she had landed, and finished with Marik's attempted seduction and her battle for freedom. "They were almost on us before we left, weren't they?" she asked, her voice full of weary dread.
"If they did not see us leave I would be surprised."
"When I go back they will take me. I'm still not sure what Marik wants, but I suspect I'll either be killed or given up whole and alive to the Rakshasa." She lifted her hands to cover her face. "Oh my friend, forgive me. I never meant to draw you into this struggle. It is none of yours, and now we have both broken the laws of your people."
"Your life was in danger, was it not?"
"Yes," she replied, certainty in her voice. "I give you my word, Akhor, if Marik's men had caught me I would have been killed, or worse. When I go back I still will be."
"Then it is simple enough. You will not go back."
I looked at him, my eyes wide, my mouth a startled O. "But—but—won't your people—Shikrar, won't he—"
He lifted his head off his forelegs and looked me in the eye. "Dearling, I have given you my word. There is nothing will harm you while I live and may prevent."
I covered my mouth with my hand. "Dear Lady," I murmured. "Akhor, you must know that I was going to go down on my knees and beg you and Shikrar to let me stay here on this island. I had it all planned, I would stay on the Gedri side of the Boundary in one of those cabins—oh, but I never meant you to break the laws of your people!"
I jumped a little as his near wing came close and wrapped softly around me. It was a gentle touch. "Dear one, I had already decided that that particular law is based on old prejudice and ancient grievance. Were it my province I would revoke the Great Ban and establish the Peace once more. But that can only be done in Council."
"Council?"
"Yes. I know not how your people are governed, but we have a Council that meets every five years. Any of our people who wish to may attend. And sometimes, as now, they are called for special occasions. I have summoned one for tomorrow." His voice sounded, I swear, like Jamie at his most cynical. "It should be interesting."
"Ha!" I snorted. "Interesting! They'll have us both for breakfast."
"It will at least be a novel experience."
And I threw back my head and laughed. Don't ask me why. Somehow the threat of Marik dwindled in the face of a whole Council of Dragons approaching with evil intent and a shaker of salt. When I told Akor why I was laughing, the steam clouded up the cave for some time.
I woke to find one of my guards hovering over me. "Where is she?" I muttered, cupping my jaw. It hurt to speak.
"I have the Harvesters looking everywhere, lord, but so far we haven't found her. Sul ran after her, but she had a headstart by way of he had to get me off him first." The idiot hung his head sheepishly and explained how Lanen had got past them, the lump on his forehead silent witness to truth. "Fetch my Healer," I commanded as I rose, "and then fetch me Caderan."