Dhamon wanted her to tell him everything, especially if she’d found any magic to help him in the sunken city, but he stopped himself from asking directly. He knew Feril and knew that she talked about things in her own time.
“I saw Beryl’s horns,” he began.
Feril nodded. “I found her, too.”
She said nothing else, causing Ragh to roll his eyes. Dhamon glared at the sivak, who hacked away, holding his hands up, leaving the two alone. She tipped her face up and breathed deep, taking in the smells of the late summer wildflowers and the grass. The breeze was drying her, though it would take some time to thoroughly dry her leather tunic. She was reminded of her private vow to visit the sunken shops below and find some new clothes. First, however, she intended to return to Kalilnama’s tower.
“Don’t worry. I’m just taking a breather. I’m going back down shortly.”
“Not alone this time. Let me go with you.”
“I can take care of myself,” she said, shaking her head, “and I know that you are afraid of water.”
Dhamon winced. “Let me go with you anyway,” he said. “What’s down there that’s so urgent?”
She glanced away, avoiding his question, not wanting to raise his hopes. “I missed you, Dhamon.”
He was going to say something else to her, but he was surprised by her candid emotion, and his words caught in his throat. He glanced awkwardly over at Ragh, who had simply gone back to sleep against a tree.
“I shouldn’t have left you after the Window,” Feril continued softly. “I thought I needed time alone, away. Apart. I thought putting distance between us would help clear my head, but it only troubled my heart. I have missed you.”
She didn’t say anything else for quite some time. She stood at the edge of the lake and watched the thin, low-hanging clouds turned gold by the setting sun as they slowly dissolved. The sun set, and in the growing twilight a pair of owls sailed low over the far side of the lake then turned east as they flew off for night hunting.
The air was cooling, the wind dying down. Feril and Dhamon continued to stand on the bank as the breeze carried new, faint scents to them—the mustiness of raccoons and possums that must be hunting at the edge of the treeline, along with a subtle hint of blood, suggesting something had been killed in the nearby woods.
Stars gradually winked into view, and Lunitari was the first moon to peek over the canopy and reflect palely on the surface of the ever-still lake.
Feril walked forward until the water teased her toes.
“Don’t go back in tonight,” Dhamon said. There was an unusual pleading in his voice. “I know elves don’t have to sleep very much, but you look tired.”
Feril turned away from the lake and looked straight up into the night sky. Then she took a deep breath, and another, starting toward the trees to the southeast. “All right. Do you think your sivak friend will mind sharing the forest?”
She bent and tugged at something in the grass, some type of root she was brushing the dirt from. She was quick to eat it.
Dhamon caught up to her and walked slowly at her side.
“I found…something…in the lake that might help you,” she finally said, just as they approached the sivak, one eye open, resting propped up against an old white oak. “Let’s consider the matter in the morning.”
The sivak was on his feet, eyes drifting up to meet Dhamon’s gaze, then catching the Kagonesti’s. She looked tiny next to the dragon. “Welcome back. After so long I figured you’d probably drowned, elf. Dhamon thought so, too.”
Feril walked right past the sivak without so much as a word of greeting and stretched out on a bed of ferns. Dhamon stayed back near the clearing with Ragh. As Dhamon watched her, he offered a silent prayer to the gods. He had never prayed so hard for the return of his humanity, never prayed so hard for anything.
If he were human, he could have rested at her side, draped an arm around her and held her close. If he became human again, they could use the treasure in his hoard to buy a mansion anywhere they wanted. Hire servants. Nothing would be too expensive. He relished his dragon power…but he was not happy this way.
He noticed Ragh scrutinizing him.
“Well, I’m glad the elf didn’t drown,” the sivak said.
Ragh paced behind Feril and Dhamon. The draconian kept telling Dhamon that it was time to move on to another part of the Qualinesti forest. He was achingly bored with sitting under oak trees and watching birds and insects while waiting for Feril to finish up with whatever she was doing deep in the Lake of Death. Now she was planning on going back…and for how long?
“So you found something that might help Dhamon. What is it?” The sivak pressed.
The Kagonesti didn’t reply.
“Well, how long are you going to be down there this time?” Ragh raised his voice but still didn’t get an answer. “How do we know how long we should wait or whether you’ve been killed by an octopus or something?”
“Stop it, Ragh,” Dhamon said after a few moments. “You don’t have to wait for us.”
Ragh gave a soft growl. “Fine, fine. Just where am I supposed to go?” He waggled his scaly fingers toward the trees. “All right. I guess I’ll go back to sleep over there until you’re finished with your little quest.” The sivak took a dozen steps away and looked over his shoulder. “Dhamon, I truly hope she finds something down at the bottom of that lake that can…that might…”
“Make me human again.”
The sivak nodded.
The sun was rising and the trees were already throwing shadows. Dhamon touched a talon to Feril’s shadow and arched his back. His glossy black scales turned darker and dull, the blue and silver scales disappearing. He had come up with this idea last night. He could transform into a shadow dragon; he had that ability from the shadow dragon who had birthed him. That way he could accompany Feril into the lake, protect her even, though he didn’t dare say that to her.
This way, he had argued, they could team up and double their efforts to find what she was seeking.
His fear of the lake was lessened when he was a shadow dragon.
Dhamon’s form shimmered slightly, then flattened until he looked like a dragon-shaped pool of oil. A few moments passed, the pool shrinking and melding with Feril’s shadow.
The Kagonesti breathed deep, the air heavy with wildflowers and the hint of rain. No trace of the odors of stagnant water and rotted plants remained. As a shadow, Dhamon lost his scent.
“You said you’d be able to hear me, Dhamon.” Feril waded into the water, “and that you could stay underwater with me the entire time, that as a shadow you don’t breathe.” Feril was up to her waist now, relishing the feel of the warm water and knowing the cold would come soon enough. “We’re going to an old section of the city, Dhamon. I’ve met some…some people…there.”
Then she was swimming ahead of him toward the center of the lake and diving. She chased schools of small sunfish and perch, and as she did she grew gills almost immediately. She was invigorated after a night’s rest and reflection, and she kicked fast and strong, angling like an arrow toward where she knew Qualinost reposed. She watched pike, bass, and silverfins swim by, then the fish and plants disappeared abruptly and she braced herself for the cold. It wrapped around her, and she felt her heart being squeezed. She glanced over her shoulder to see if Dhamon had the same reaction, but she couldn’t tell, though he was close behind.
She was impressed, though not astonished, that Dhamon could attach himself to her as a shadow. Feril could assume the forms of most living creatures—something she thought preferable to becoming a shadow. Did he feel this horrible cold? She thrust her worries aside and threw her efforts into fighting off the numbness and looking for a glimmer of light amid the dark blue water.