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the trick, is that the dragon has to be female and single and find Ram attractive. But if we can work out the first two, that last one’s a shoo-in.
So all we’ve really got to do is convince Nia to come with us to search for the other dragons. The journey itself will give me an opportunity to win her affection, assuming the yagi don’t kill us first.
As I’m waiting for Nia to make up her mind, I realize she’s shivering.
“Are you cold?” I shove my sword back in its scabbard and slip the backpack off my back.
“I’m always cold. I come from a land of sunshine. This is Siberia.” She shudders emphatically.
“Here.” I pull the warm cloaks from my pack. My mother packed three of them—one each for me, Ram, and Nia. “Wear this.” I drape the soft fabric around her shoulders and show her how to work the slip-knot closure at the neck, which expands, much like the drawstrings of our shorts, if we have to suddenly change into a dragon while wearing one.
She looks up at me with gratitude. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I give her a look that’s supposed to be tender, that’s supposed to communicate that I am capable of putting her needs before mine. That I want her to love me—and more urgently, that it’s safe for her to stay with us. “Better?”
She nods.
Ram gives me a look that says he saw what I did there, with the tenderness, and that he’s willing to overlook the point in my favor only if Nia agrees to make the journey with us. But he doesn’t say any of that (we dragons are immensely good at non-verbal communication) but turns to smile at Nia. “If you come with us, we’ll take every precaution, heed your every warning. We’ll follow your lead.”
Nia pulls the cloak snugly around herself and closes her eyes. Struggle shows clearly on her face as she wrestles with her decision.
I understand that she doesn’t want to endanger other dragons. It’s a sign of compassion, and I’d love her just for that if I wasn’t already smitten with her for all her other qualities—courage, strength, intelligence, and the fact that she’s a dragon.
That last one’s the big one.
So she’s got to agree to come with us. We’ll make it work. Somehow.
When she opens her eyes, she gives us a wary look that’s almost a warning. “If the yagi prove to be too numerous, if we cannot stay ahead of them, I reserve the right to return to the white witch. But if things go as you say,” she pauses, shakes her head as though she can’t believe she’s saying these words, and fears she might regret them, “I will go with you.”
*
We fly low, our glowing scales on their dimmest settings. We skirt the treetops, gliding slowly, watchfully, using our keen dragon vision to scour the horizon for any sign of humans. When possible, we lose ourselves in the low-lying cloud cover and weave among the mountains.
We’re flying mostly south and a little east. We were east of the Lena River to start with, so we’ll eventually hit the Sea of Okhotsk, and from there, the Pacific Ocean.
But that’s a long way ahead of us, yet. We’re all of us tired—Nia had just returned from flying in dragon form when I encountered her at the cave, and none of us slept at all last night. We’re flying slowly, carefully, which means there’s no way we’re going to reach the coast before we need to rest.
Indeed, it’s barely past noon when Nia droops low, sinking below the cloud cover among the remote mountains, skimming the earth as she follows the valley to a remote hiding place nestled among the mountains. It’s a streambed, the rocky path far wider than the current stream, as though melting snow has traced this trail many times, but is now receded.
We land beside her as she wraps her cape around her shoulders and shivers. “It’s so cold.”
“Do you think it’s safe to start a fire?” I ask.
Ram shrugs. “I imagine so. You get to work on that. I’ll hunt up some food.”
While Ram flies off again