I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls.
—Job
The night passed slowly, filled with the chirping of crickets, the whisper of wind through the trees, the flickering of the stars, and the pulsing of the faerie lights overhead. The faerie lights were more subdued tonight, changing slowly, as though the bloodshedding of the preceding night had shocked them into sullen dimness.
Karl finished laying the fire, spread his blanket near the edge of the mesa, then sat down, watching the sky, leaving the wood unlit.
Be here tonight, he thought. Please.
Stretching out on the blanket, he pillowed the back of his head on his hands and let his eyes sag shut. It could easily be a long wait.
Karl wasn't on the watch list—rank hath its privileges; and he could have allowed himself to fall asleep in his own tent—but if he wasn't up on the mesa waiting for Ellegon, he would have to put up with the dragon's nagging complaints until Ellegon took off for the trip back Home.
Ellegon was reliable within his limitations, but he did have limitations. It usually took the dragon three days to make it from Home to this particular rendezvous, but any number of things could throw him off schedule. Sometimes, innocuous things—Riccetti might have delayed him to fire a load of soft-pine charcoal, or Nehera might have been working on a batch of high-alloy steel.
Occasionally, Ellegon would be late because the dragon had been delayed at another resupplying stop, helping a hunter team out of trouble.
More than once, Ellegon's arrival had meant the difference between victory and death. A fire-breathing dragon was a nice hole card; standard doctrine, whenever possible, was to schedule a raid just before one of Ellegon's resupplying runs.
Karl smiled, remembering the expression on the face of the slavers who had trapped his team just outside of Lundeyll. Everything had gone wrong that time. A sudden rainsquall had come up, making it impossible for his team to reload their weapons, and it turned out that most of the supposed slaves chained behind the wagons had really been slavers. His back to the Cirric, Karl had resigned himself to a fight to the death, until a familiar voice sounded in his head.
So he had surrendered. Sort of.
Thermyn had been very pleased with his catch, until the moment Ellegon's massive head snaked out from behind a rock outcropping and bit off his legs, leaving an expression more of surprise than pain on his face. . . .
Usually, though, lateness was just a result of Ellegon's trying to avoid people. Dragons were close to extinct in the Eren regions; humans seemed to have an almost instinctive fear of the creatures.
Ellegon didn't fly over populated areas during the day. While the dragon was immune to almost any nonmagical threat, a dragonbaned crossbow bolt could cut through his scales like a hot knife through butter. And though he could fly far, far above the range of any bow, he did have to land eventually. It was best that nobody know when he was in the area, the dragon said.
That was true, but Karl had long suspected that fear of being attacked was only part of the reason the dragon avoided coming within range of strangers; Ellegon simply didn't like reading the hate and fear in their minds.
They had worked out a routine for Ellegon's resupplying trips. The dragon would leave the valley during the afternoon, flying throughout the night and reaching his first resting place just before dawn. He and his human assistant would rest during the day, taking to the air at night, flying as high as possible, crossing the land in night-long hops, finding another resting place before morning, then sleeping, eating, and talking during the day.
Karl had long ago noticed that the more Ellegon liked whoever had been assigned to assist him, the later the dragon tended to be. Extended conversation with adults was a rare pleasure for the dragon; the few Home citizens who really liked Ellegon and felt safe around him were usually too busy to spend much time with him.
Karl lay back, occasionally nodding off, until a vague reassurance touched his mind, bringing him quickly out of his light sleep.
A familiar voice sounded in his head. *Well? I brought the fatted calf—where are the party hats?*
"Ellegon!" A smile spread across Karl's face; he jumped to his feet. Where are you?
*Just out of sight. I'll be there in a moment. Hang on, stupid.*
The flapping of leathery wings sounded from below. Ellegon's massive form rose above the edge of the mesa; the dragon folded his wings against his sides and landed on the flat surface like a sparrow rising to a perch on a rooftop.
A very massive sparrow—the shock of his landing knocked Karl off his feet.
*Hello, clumsy,* Ellegon said. He was a huge beast, fully the length of a Greyhound bus from the tip of his twitching tail to the end of his saurian snout. He loomed above Karl in the dark, gouts of smoke and steam issuing from nostrils the size of hubcaps.
*Would you help Henrad down? The ride seems to have disagreed with him. He's been like this for the whole trip.*
"I can't imagine why," Karl said. Light the fire, if you can reach from here.
*No problem.* Ellegon snaked his head out and carefully flamed the wood, while Karl walked around the dragon's side and climbed halfway up the rope ladder to help Henrad unbuckle his riding harness and dismount.
Even in the flickering firelight, the apprentice wizard was almost green. Karl brought Henrad over to his blankets and helped him sit down. The boy gratefully waved Karl away, then leaned forward, his head between his knees.
*We ran into a bit of turbulence—rain clouds are moving in. I'll want to take off fairly quickly, if I'm going to outrun it.*
Fine. But why Henrad?
*Objection?*
No, as a matter of fact, he should come in handy. In the morning, the boy could check out the wizard's wagon and disarm any magical glyphs, leaving any physical traps to Slovotsky. But you didn't answer my question.
*Your wife's idea. His crush on her is getting a bit out of hand—stop that.*
Stop what?
*Stop reaching for your sword. Andrea can handle him; if she couldn't she would have let me know. She just thought she could use a break from his roving hands and from him "accidentally" bumping into her at every opportunity.*
Karl glared at Andy-Andy's apprentice. I'd better have a word with him, anyway.
*I don't remember you being tolerant of other people messing with your apprentices. Leave it be, Karl, leave it be.*
As you did?
*Me?* The dragon's mental voice was all innocence. *What did I do?*
I suppose that you didn't make the ride as rough as possible. Karl snorted. I guess I'm just overly suspicious.
*You should watch that tendency of yours. It's not one of your prettier failings.*
Others had already arrived to help unload. They began by removing the saddlebag-slung leather sacks, then untied the huge wicker basket cupping the rear half of Ellegon's back and unloaded the burlap sacks underneath it.
Tennetty led the two former slaves up to the dragon, muttering reassuring words, while Daherrin carried the bound, blindfolded, gagged slaver over and unceremoniously dumped him in the basket.
"Daherrin," Karl called out, "sling the basket and rig the tarp. It might get a bit wet up there." What did you bring?
*Lamp oil, salt, dried beef, mutton, vegetables, bread—the usual. Open that wooden box first. Lou sent along a dozen bottles of the latest batch of Riccetti's Best.*
Oh? How good is it?
*What does a dragon know about corn whiskey? I can tell you that Ahira swears by it, although I think he's been using a bit too much, of late.*
Karl walked over to the dragon's head and reached up to scratch the fine scales under Ellegon's chin. It was like trying to pet a granite wall.
*Mmm . . . nice. Harder.* It was the thought that counted; Karl would have had to use a hoe for the dragon actually to feel it.
It's good to see you, he thought. I'm sorry you can't stay long.
*Don't be too sorry. You'll be seeing a lot of me over the next few days. Chton and his Joiners have petitioned for a town meeting; Ahira said to tell you that he is—and I quote—"looking down the barrel of a vote of confidence" and that you are to—quoting again—"hie your ass Homeward, on the double." He's worried, Karl.*
How about you?
*I think it's going to be close. And with two hunter teams away, he could lose. Pity you didn't think to allow for proxy voting in the Constitution.*
Well, if Thomas Jefferson didn't think of it, how would you expect me to?
*I have higher expectations of you—*
Thanks—
*—despite the fact that you are a constant disappointment, and—*
—a whole lot. Karl beckoned Chak over. "Which would you rather do: take a side trip Home with me, or run the team until Enkiar?"
"Run the team?" Chak opened his mouth, then closed it. "Why me? Why not Slovotsky?"
"I thought you don't like taking his orders."
*He doesn't, but he didn't think you noticed that.*
It's not polite to peek into somebody's mind without his permission.
*True. Then again, dragons aren't particularly polite.*
I've noticed.
*Observant, aren't you?*
"Well, Chak?"
The little man shrugged. "I'd just as soon go Home with you, all things being equal."
*Why are you bringing him Home?*
Peep better. Tennetty says that he likes one of the new women. I want to give him a good shot at her, so to speak. It's about time Chak settled down and started a family. Can you reach Slovotsky?
*Mmm . . . got him. He's on his way up.*
Good. Relay, please: Nothing to worry about, Walter, but I've been called Home.
Ellegon's mental interpretation of Walter's voice was even more animated than usual. *Trouble? Please don't let there be trouble—*
Honest. No real trouble. It's just politics. I've got to kick some tails—
*Metaphorically, for once,* Ellegon put in.
Right. How would you feel about running the team until Enkiar?
* "No objection, other than the obvious one . . ."—he wants to go Home, is what he's saying, Karl—" . . . but why not Chak?" *
Relay: Because he's not married, and you are, and there are a couple of possible candidates that will be going home with Ellegon and me.
* "Good idea. No problem; I'll keep things together." *
Good. Hurry up and get up here. We're going to make this a quick turnaround.
*Don't you want to know about your family?*
There's nothing wrong with my family.
The reason Karl hadn't asked Ellegon about his family wasn't that he didn't care—it was just the opposite. The dragon knew that giving him news of anything wrong with Aeia, Jason, or Andy-Andy took precedence over everything else; since Ellegon hadn't said anything, there wasn't any problem.
*True.*
He turned back to the dragon. "Any chance of Walter's running into any of our teams between here and Enkiar?"
*None. The last of Daven's team have returned Home, and Aveneer is working the edge of the Katharhd. Hmmm, I'd better play mailman. If you'll excuse me?*
"Sure."
Ellegon raised his head. *Personal messages,* he announced, *for the following: Donidge, Ch'akresarkandyn, Erek, Jenree, Walter . . . *
Karl always liked to watch people get their mail, although Ellegon was scrupulous about tuning him out. As the dragon relayed each message from home, the recipient's face would light up like a beacon.
Chak's dark face broke into a wide smile as Ellegon gave him the message. He nodded three times, then sighed, a far-off look in his eyes.
Karl waited until Chak's eyes cleared. "What's the news?"
The little man shook his head, still smiling. "Your son says that I should be real sure not to get my fool ass killed. I think he's been spending too much time around U'len."
"Probably."
Walter arrived, almost breathless.
Karl stuck out a hand. "We're taking off. Run things as you see best."
"I always do."
"But if you don't mind taking some advice . . . Ellegon says that you can't get jumped by any of our teams, but don't take chances. There may be some independents working the road between here and Enkiar. I'd rather you avoid them. Use roving point men, okay? Next, I want you to fill Henrad in, and have him go over the wizard's wagon, for magical traps, and—"
"Hey, if you're leaving me in charge, you'd better trust me not to stab myself in the foot, eh?"
"Right." He clapped a hand to Walter's shoulder. "Take care of things, okay?"
"Sure. Kiss my wife for me—and kiss yours for me, too."
Karl glared at him.
Walter spread his hands. "Face it: I'm irrepressible."
"Right." Karl helped Chak into the basket, then climbed up the rope ladder to the saddle on Ellegon's back and strapped himself in. "Everybody clear. Daherrin, are the straps okay?"
"Tight and strong," the dwarf called back, as he finished belting Chak, Tennetty, and the two women into the basket, then tied down the tarpaulin, leaving only their heads peeking out.
*You ready?*
Home, James.
*My name is Ellegon.* The dragon's wings blurred; he leaped skyward.