Fossy

---

Before he left to return home, my father told me, 'If you think it's sunny here, my son, you should see your other home. Come to me when you can make it on your own wings.'

Clan Matriarch Reina tells me she has never seen a hatchling learn to fly as quickly as I did.

I love my birth-home, the Lair by the Sea. I grew into my paws and horns with the sound of the surf for a lullaby, woven through with the song of the breeze in the reeds. The Windsinger's demesne is a kind one. I love my mother, who is kind and funny and sweet, and whom the whole clan holds in high regard for her optimism. She let me wrestle with her pet cockatrice, to teach me how to use my limbs and claws--or maybe the pet cockatrice let me wrestle with him--he's a fierce little thing for his size.

I have been happy here. But I long to know more of the Lightweaver.

When they thought I couldn't hear them, Reina told my mother not to be distressed. 'A boy needs a father,' she said. 'He'll settle down once he's seen his other home.'

The day has come now. I have packed several gifts for my father's clan, now an ally to the Lair by the Sea by ties stronger than words and gifts. Blood lies between us now. I am the hinge between two great powers. I can't wait to see the sun-drenched cliffs.

# # #

I winged into the Suncliff Lair in the midst of a grand festival, the cliff top awash in tents, streamers and glittery flags. The clan matron, Kikitt, gave me an elegant, gentle greeting; her companion, Baxil, a boisterous, laughing one. Then, pushing between them, my father, Magmashine, who wrapped his wings around me in a kindly embrace. How glad was I to see him again, for I had but a hatchling's memory of his firey mane and light eyes.

Introductions were swift, a tour of the lair more so, for the Suncliff Lair was smaller by half than the Lair by the Sea. They folded me eagerly into their celebrations, glad for an excuse to rejoice.

My father was right... everything here is brightness. The rising sun bathes my cliff-face cave with light. The clan is cheerful and friendly, though some of the dragons here are often lost in their studies and searches for Truth.

I have found friends -- tubby Lichen, cheerful Fraggle and Applesauce, inscrutable Masque, even stolid Shimmer, the huge old Guardian, who may impart her knowledge if you wait with her patiently enough.

I often fly with my father, matching his daring aerobatics. Sometimes others join us in the skies, or lounge together at low tide along the exposed beach at the cliff base. I join the gathering parties on forays to find both food and curiosities. My days are full of companionship.

At night, the clan assembles in the gathering place atop the cliff to sing. I hear and learn songs of the history of the clan, songs of praise to the Lightweaver, and many cheerful ditties. It is there that I find myself seeking the company of Masque more and more often, and finally I ask her to share a nest -- my first.

Our single child breaks shell on a fine morning... and I feel it on the wind, the longing for the lair where I first tasted the breeze. I have learned much in the Suncliff Lair -- I watched it expand, and I watched many young dragons choose to serve the Lightweaver. But now, as my thoughts turn to my mother and my birth-home, the Lair by the Sea, I prepare to return, laden with gifts.

# # #

When I return it is to find my mother has gone--home, Clan Leader Reina tells me, back to Deryni's lair where she was born. She left enriched by gifts and with all the love of her clanmates, for she made the Lair by the Sea a better place by her presence. Indeed, while I tarry here, she visits for a short time, and it's good to see her. I share news of Magmashine with her, and tell her about my child, and she is happy, and so I am.

I expect to find the Lair by the Sea less of a home to me with my mother's departure, and yet it is not so. A clan is more than its members. The smell of this place is in my lungs, in my bones, in the folds and creases of my wings. It recognizes me, and me it. I am content, meeting my newest clanmates, helping them, here and there, to see the light of truth when it escapes them. Wind's children are whimsical: they help me to remember to laugh, and I help them to see the truth that makes sense of laughter.

I have stayed long enough to help with the preparations for the great festival--to catch the food and sample the dishes, to make kites with the hatchlings, to mix great vats of paint for the contests and gather treasure for gifts. But as much as I have enjoyed the preparations, I find I want to experience the Jamboree as a visitor, rather than a host! The day grows closer, so I wing home. I wonder how my father's lair fares... I will know soon enough!

# # #

I return to the Suncliff Lair to find that, alas! my father's lair has fared very poorly indeed! A dreadful ocean storm struck during my absence, decimating the Lair. A dozen dragons lost, both hatchlings and adults, and the clan is still laboring to clear the cliff-face caves most affected, particularly the lower ones that the storm surge had filled with sediment and detritus.

I am immediately recruited to help, and spend many days clearing away debris. I work alongside my father -- greatly stricken by the tragedy and often silent now -- and my young son, Weld, of my second clutch, who is now old enough to help alongside the adults.

Matriarch Kikitt spends many days in the marketplace, seeking new dragons and fresh bloodlines to bring to the clan. She even entreats me to consider making a nest, to help replenish the clan's strength. This I do, and stay long enough to rally Father back to something like good cheer.

The Jamboree comes, and though it is more somber than I expected it to be, it lifts the spirits of the Suncliff Lair, and I find joy in that, at least.

***

The disaster at Father's home has made me too aware of how precious and fleeting life is... and when I return to my mother's clan, I find it still wild with merriment. Wind is my mother's Flight, and the Jamboree took them like strong drink, and here on the plains you can still feel the Windsinger's quick laughter through the reeds, pulling at streamers and wind harps and delighting in the rising aroma of festival foods.

I also return to so many beautiful new dragonesses. Evgenis, so dainty and happy, and Kalle smelling of the sea with eyes full of mysteries... beautiful Thelxinoe, painted with the glowing favor of the night! And they are delighted to see me!

I have made sure that Weld has been properly introduced to everyone--he's grown so, they hardly recognize him--and once I am sure he has found friends and something to do, I let the dragonesses draw me away. Come, they whisper. Life is calling. I eat the Windsinger's fine, soft foods and drink his bubbling mead and give myself to it.

***

I am content. I have had a clutch, and that was good, and been revived by the attentions of other dragons. Weld is happy: he has found a lady to draw him to the nest, and he is learning the ways of the Coliseum with Reina and Argos... he is growing into a fine, strong youth. From here he will go to the Firelands, to visit his mother's lands... he and I will meet again soon, I know.

But I am for the light-drenched plateaus of the Suncliff Lair. I hope when I return I will find them recovered from their tragedies. I bring with me the beauty and laughter of the Windsinger, and pray he will give them some ease if they haven't yet found it.

# # #

I return to find my father's lair once more prosperous and seeming content. The caves of the Suncliff Lair are full to capacity, and I find to my joy that many of the young hatchlings are finding homes, rather than going to the service of the Lightweaver! Though that is its own joy, I delight that the young ones find lairs where they are wanted. My father himself is much recovered -- and has become a celebrated hero, having rescued a hatchling from murder most foul.

And I... I am content as well. I fill my days telling stories to the young ones, imparting of the Windsinger's joy. I make a nest with an unusual companion, a dainty spiral etched with odd lines. To my amusement, our children both take after me in color -- but our daughter, a spiral like her mother and etched with the same lines, bewilders me with her strangeness. I stay long enough to see her go to a new home.

It pleases me to see my father's lair more prosperous and, if not forgetting its trials, at least living beyond them and finding joy and purpose. But it is now time for me to go where the Wind takes me... for my home lair has seen its own share of misfortunes in the past, and there are ever more tales to be spun, and I long to hear them.

***

It is... interesting to make a nest with a dragoness whose heart is given... to another dragoness.

Dare I say that it is somehow relaxing? She had no attachment to me, Kyneska, but she was friendly. After we'd done the work and had only to wait, guarding the eggs, she spent many long hours chatting with me, and our conversations seemed to cover the world in its entirety, like the Wind. 'Love is good,' she said. 'Not common, but good when you find it. And you can find it anywhere, Fossy. Anywhere.'

After our children hatched, Kyneska took over the care of them, ambled back to her lover Volari, left me to wonder what, if anything, I've learned from my visit. For once, the Lair by the Sea is at peace; it's lost some members, but the ones that have remained are healthy, contented. It's been good to be here. And good to make a new friend.

Inevitably, though, I wonder how it is back on sun-drenched cliffs. So with the hatchlings weaned and already making their way to the Markets, I pack my bags and head home.

# # #

Kyneska gave me much to think about... and think I do, on this sojourn to my father's lair, about friendship and companionship and love.

I spend my days with the hatchlings this time, teaching them the songs of the lair, the histories and genealogies and nest songs that I learned. I watch them grow, and I watch as they find their life paths away from the Suncliff Lair. I wonder, as I see them off, where their journeys will take them, and what companionship they will find along the way.

I make a nest with Masque, the massive and gentle guardian with whom I made my first nest. All my nest partners have been different, until now... which starts me thinking about what I look for in companionship, when I make a nest. The fever that comes with a dragoness's egg season often makes clutchings fleeting pairings, though the females I take to nest always start and end as friends.

Masque and I talk long, as we watch our eggs, about the nature of love and friendship. She has had many partners, Masque, and has many offspring -- but confides in me that none of her partnerships were more than casual, and she was fine with that.

'Love will find you,' she tells me, 'not the other way around. If you find it, count yourself lucky... and in the meantime, be happy. Love and happiness are separate things.'

We hatch two bright-winged children, and I linger until they have moved on to new homes. Once off the nest, Masque treats me with the casual friendship she treats all in the lair. I feel a pang of disappointment.

Then I feel that it is time for me to visit my first home again, and I prepare, with a mind heavy with thought.

###

...and I have arrived to celebration, for the Windsinger has triumphed and all his children dance with him to the Dominance. There are festivals, and feasts, and dragons going to and from the Markets to buy gifts for themselves and each other--even me! Maybe I was a little intoxicated on their happiness (and this fermented berry paste), but Kyneska talked me into a clown magic, and respotted my fur just in time for a new Tundra to lure me into a nest... and she was fun and it was good, and we laughed a great deal. And no sooner had the celebration started than we learned that Reina had a vision: that the Windsinger would like her to take the clan north, to other lands, to speak to their dragons of the importance of unity and amity and--

--and then there was packing, and discussion, and more discussion, and more packing, and everyone had an opinion on which land we should visit first (and of course, I said 'Light!' but was overruled, even though Light did make it to the final round--)...

...and so my partial birth clan is moving to Earth! The next time I come, I will find them near the sea, beneath the shadow of the Pillar of the World.

How can I be despondent, surrounded by such energy and enthusiasm? All the clan is full of plans and excitement: what will their new home look like? Who will dig out the new lair? This is a fine time for planned renovations or changes, yes?

And Nike nibbled my ear and said, 'Come back soon,' and I blushed...!

How strange it is to pack to go back to my home on the cliffs. I wish I could go with them, but the journey from the Pillar back to the cliffs is a much longer one than from the plains. I will have a long flight the next time I come to visit. But I will be glad to go, and come back, and go. I even have happy news, for Starfall, whom I thought lost to life, seems to have found himself again. I will have to tell the others. And I have pottery from Gaudere to distribute!

Ah, things are good. How could I have doubted? I just needed a change of scenery. I will bring it home with me to my friends and family.

# # #

My arrival at the Suncliff Lair is greeted with great joy and wonderment! The clan marvels at my new clown pelt, everyone exclaims at the news that the Lair by the Sea is moving, and the whole clan is cheered to hear good news of Starfall (though Jun is withdrawn; perhaps she feels to blame? She shouldn't) -- and Masque is delighted by Gaudere's fine pottery; she takes them back to her lair nattering to herself about how she will put each piece to use.

And I come to the Suncliff Lair and into celebration: the Brightshine Jubilee! And so my days are filled with laughter, games, singing, stories, and lots and lots of food...! I eat more than my share, I am sure, and work it off with my dancing.

The Mistral Jamboree came to the Suncliff Lair at a time of grieving, and was thus colored with sadness and regret. Not so now, for the time of grieving is long past -- and thus we celebrate with wild abandon!

And in the middle of the celebration I find myself besotted...! A new guardian has come to the lair, the fair Festiva, with bright blue hide and shimmery wings and traces of bright yellow lines all over her. The light plays like ripples on a pond over her body with the new gene magicks, and I am mesmerized. When her time comes, she lures me to nest and she is magnificent and fun...

And once our eggs hatch and I realize it's time to go to find my home in a new land, and I realize I have thought little of Nike...! What has she been doing while I was playing and eating and celebrating and loving...? I should have written...!

***

The Lair by the Sea has settled into its new home by the time I return, and while there has been some difficulty associated with that move all the clan is abuzz with its newest venture: Raia and Thelxinoe, who became fast friends while keeping the night watch, have decided to take their rune painting to the Dragon Markets. What might have remained a minor venture became an explosively successful one when the clan mage offered to make their work permanent for the dragons who bring themselves to be painted. He weaves protections into the runes, and the results are often helpful.

I have been with my birth clan for a very long time, but I have never seen them so wealthy in all my life. Dragons line up at the Markets to purchase Raia's and Thelxinoe's handiwork! So many, in fact, that all of us take turns helping with the customers. I am not so good with the crowds, so Layla put me to work running extra spells to the auctioneer. That's fun work, particularly since the clan now has several other Tundra males to keep me company. I like affable Michael and his friend Shadow, even if Shadow is very quiet. He has scars, but does not have the physique of a fighter; it makes me wonder about his life before he joined the Lair. But I am too polite to ask.

Nixie asked me to the nest this time around; that was no hardship. Nixie is easy to like. But I'm not in love with her. I sometimes think I'll never be in love with anyone! I remember Nike fondly, but when I discovered she'd heard the god's call I was not devastated, as I imagine I would have been had I really loved her.

Maybe I'm still too young?

I don't know. But it's good to go back to the sun-drenched cliffs. I've told the others that the next time the Lair by the Sea moves, they should go there! Maybe they'll listen. In the meantime, at least I can take myself.

# # #

The Suncliff Lair is enjoying Dominance when I arrive... and celebrating with calm relief, having won victory over Shadow, Light's old adversary. I enjoy the festival greatly. I amble through the food and game booths with friends from the lair, both old and new -- Masque, Cirrus, Festiva, Erasthmus and my son, Weld, who is also visiting...

And then I see her.

A skydancer, stripe-winged and clown-spotted, stark black and white. She is helping at one of the food booths, and working hard. She... is not yet full-grown, I realize; her proportions still long-limbed and large-footed, in the way of adolescence... but I've never seen a dragoness so stunning. Even in adolescence, she is elegant, and she moves like a dancer.

'Who... who is that?' I ask Erasthmus, who is nearest to me.

He glances at the young skydancer, then smiles. 'She was one of the hatchlings bought for the Dominance, to be given in service to the Lightweaver... but she stayed.'

I feel a pang of after-the-fact anxiety. If she had been exalted with the rest of the young, I would never have seen her...! 'Her name?'

'Serena.' Erasthmus considered me for a moment. 'You know she is still weeks away from her first egg-time.'

I smile back. 'All the better... I'll have time to get to know her!'

And get to know her I try.

I visit her stall daily. I make small talk, appropriate for the weather of the day. I ply Serena with a few questions as she prepares my food (and of course, I must spend a gem or two on the food each day; I'll lose my fitness to this festival food). I'm not the only drake (or dragoness, I find!) vying for her attention, either. She really is that stunning.

But so young! And reticent! I find it hard to get her to open up. She remembers little of her birthplace in the Scarred Wastelands -- and what she does remember causes her to blanch thinking of it. Her coming to the Suncliff Lair was fraught with such confusion that, though she loves her home now, she shudders to think of her early days here. I find little to converse about -- so finally resort to inviting her to one of Mystral's musical history recitations.

My heart leaps when Serena accepts!

Mystral's histories are intricately woven song, accompanied by Ambrosia's rhythm -- rapping her tail and talons on hollow stumps. I watch Serena sidelong as we listen; she seems enrapt, and following the recitation she thanks me. She seems pleased.

And so I continue asking her to events... sitting near her at the evening singing... watching for her, when I amble about the lair... searching for any opportunity to spend time in her company. Weld laughs at me; he has never seen his father so besotted. I never have *been* so. But I have little time before I return to the Lair by the Sea, and I want to have spent it well, in befriending this young beauty, and making her feel at home...

I am beyond pleased when, bashfully, Serena asks me to nest -- her first. I am gentle, and do my best to give her pleasure. And as we send our bright-winged children to the Lightweaver, I am content.

But now I must go; and I worry that this was a passing fancy for me, as so many of my trysts have been. Or worse, that she will move on to other drakes and think no more of me. I leave a token of my affection with her -- blue silks for her to wear -- and have only to hope that it will be enough for her to remember me.

***

Had I worried that I would forget her? How could I, when everything reminds me of her? I hear laughter, and think of the first time I heard her laugh. I see a flash of black or white, and my heart speeds, expecting her. I see dragons dancing, and none of them are as lovely as she is. My heart is full of her.

Is this finally the love I have been waiting for?

Weld accompanies me to the Lair by the Sea, where we find everyone preparing for a grand gather at the end of the month. Reina and Cloudkeeper have long kept very close alliance, and yet have never celebrated that fastness... and so they have decided to. A grand party at the top of the World Pillar, with all the dragons in attendance, and food, dancing, games... an event to last days. When people are not speaking of it, they are preparing for it. So I help, but my mind... my mind is back beneath the Lightweaver's sun, with her.

Will she wait for me? Will she remember me?

Does she love me?

Do I love her?

I submit to a nest with Sidonie, another long-limbed, retiring skydancer dragoness. But she doesn't move me the way Serena does. When our children are born I am glad to be quit of the responsibility, and eager to head home. I bid goodbye to Weld, who is heading south to the firelands in pursuit of his art, and pack my bags.

Will she be there when I get back?

Does she love me?

I fly to find out. I fly fast.

# # #

I send word ahead that I am coming... and I am not disappointed. Serena is easy to pick out, black and white and blue silk on a pinnacle of the cliffs. Soon after I see her, she launches and comes swiftly towards me, circling around me in the sky, and flies back with me to land.

I unload my packs and present her with many gifts. She quickly bedecks herself in the feathers and gold and silk... then rubs her face in my mane. "I missed you," she says.

I cannot describe my joy! "And I you," I hear myself say.

And so we are rejoined, and all is well! She loves me! and I adore her! We relish our time together. She attends me when I tell Filigree all I know about the creation of the Lair by the Sea's special magic runes. I join her in helping with the creche of young hatchlings -- she, elegantly teaching them learning songs, and I, crouching low for them to climb in my mane and down my back. If other dragons watch us with envy (or humor, or irritation), neither of us pay any mind, for our attention is filled by each other.

There is a queue for the nesting grounds. I can scarcely wait to take Serena to nest! When it is our turn, we enjoy it with particular relish. There is a difference, I find, in making eggs with a dragoness for whom I feel so much, and who feels also for me. Our efforts are well-rewarded -- for Serena lays five eggs! The whole clan celebrates with us!

I linger after our eggs have hatched, reluctant to leave. But at last, Serena moves me to go. "It's your second home," she says. "I'll be here for you... and I will write!"

I... will look forward to it.

###

I have been long among my friends and family at the Lair by the Sea... delightfully so, for our daughter, Elendal, has come to live there, and I've greatly enjoyed her company. But no matter how many months pass, I find none of the dragonesses here catch my fancy. Not even for friendship do I find myself accepting their tentative advances.

Serena has all my heart. I need no other.

'Go home!' Elendal says, laughing. 'I already packed your bags. See?' She shoves them at me. 'Tell Mother I love her and give her lots of hugs and kisses.'

'I will,' I promise with a chuckle, and I hug her. 'Perspicacious daughter.'

'I am what the Lightweaver made me,' she says with false primness, her eyes sparkling behind her spectacles. As I wing away, she calls, 'And make me some brothers and sisters!'

Almost, I fall out of the sky. And then, grinning, I fly home, conscious of anticipation that swells with every beat of my wings.

# # #

The Suncliff Lair is full of light, as ever... and my own Light, Serena, is there to welcome me! We spend our our greetings going straight to the nesting grounds... and then we spend the month doing all manner of things! We exercise in aerial acrobatics, in honor of my father, Magmashine, who has gone to the Lightweaver; we sunbathe on the cliffs; we fish and forage and picnic and wander the markets... I even convince Weld to join us now and then, when I can pry him away from the forge. His own daughter, Terra, joins us too -- fierce for a tundra; a determined fighter, devoted to her family.

We are enjoying our holiday when we get the word: the Lair by the Sea has moved to Light's territory! And so I prepare, packing things I would not want to carry to a more distant destination! Serena and I share one more nest, and then I am ready to go, and bear the welcome of the Suncliff Lair to my other family.

###

Is it my imagination, or does the entire clan seem grateful to be in the domain of the Lightweaver? I walk among the dragons of the Lair by the Sea and they laugh more, they move more, they talk and bustle with renewed energy.

They say that Dragonhome is exactly that: dragonhome. But I don't think my clanmates ever felt truly at home there. Too arid, too barren. Rich in minerals, poor in vegetation. Even the wind was dusty.

I cannot express how wonderful it is to have both my clans so close to one another. I know it's temporary, but I feel whole in a way I have never.

'Have you ever thought about a scatterscroll?' Talab asks me. She has become less shy, Talab, and I sometimes find her in my daughter's company (and so in my own).

'No?' I say. 'Nor new genes either, I admit.'

'The clan will buy you some if you ever want them....'

'I know,' I said, smiling.

'It would be interesting to be a different color!' my daughter opines, pushing up her spectacles. 'I wonder what it would be like?'

I laugh and tug on her earfan. 'A lot like being the color you are now.'

'Oh, but it wouldn't be! At night when I wake and look at my arm, it would be brighter. Or darker maybe. The sun would reflect off my fur differently. Maybe there would even be glare! And if I had lighter fur, I'd get less hot... that was horrible over in Dragonhome.' She sticks out her tongue. 'Awful.' Looking at Talab, she asks, 'Are you thinking of asking for a scatterscroll?'

'No!' Talab says, but she blushes at the ears. 'I'm a sand dragon. That's all I am.'

The exchange amuses me, but I can't help but think about it later. What would it be like to look different? Some other breed--a lean skydancer, like my beautiful Serena? Or with more expensive genes? Would they please her more? I resolve to ask her, if only because the discussion will probably make her laugh.

I tarry for a long while, enjoying my daughter's company. But I miss my beloved, and soon I am on my way home. At least the journey's shorter--for now!

# # #

I am surprised when Serena is not at the cliff waiting for me. I am anxious when I cannot find her in any of our local haunts. I am desperate when she is not waiting in my own lair. It is only then that I notice how subdued the entire clan is around me...! Something is wrong. I find Terra to ask if she has seen my beloved. She looks at me with sorrow and... pity!

"She's... at the nesting grounds."

I stare at her, uncomprehending. "But... who...?"

"The Consort..."

At the sound of the name, my eyes glaze over red. It is some moments before I realize Terra has tackled me and is holding me down. She has become very strong, I discover, as I struggle against her.

"It will do no good for you to go to her now," she is saying, but I can barely hear her. "Think of the eggs--!"

I am thinking of the eggs. The Consort's get on my beloved. I will smash every last one of them and scatter the shards to the four winds...!

***

Terra holds me there long, and in time the rage fades, leaving only emptiness -- and anxiety for my beloved. I will not harm the eggs; I cannot, for they are Serena's children and their other parentage is not their fault.

But I am not allowed to see her.

The whisper has gone round of her illness -- "touched by the Plaguemother", some say. At the mouth of her nesting cave, Shadow stands sentinel -- the Imperial from the Scarred Wasteland, whose herb lore has cured many a sickness. He turns all away, out of concern that she might spread some Plague-borne malady, and so I cannot even speak to her. I call to her from the mouth of the cave, but there is no response -- only a muffled sound that I fear might be her weeping. I cannot even comfort her.

No one save Shadow has seen her since that day... but everyone has seen the Consort.

I go to see him too. I stare, grim, from the mouth of the cave where he is being held. The Consort is pitiful, swathed in bandages to cover the seeping boils on his hide. No one is allowed in for now, until the boils heal; Shadow does not know if the infirmity is catching.

I do not like this satisfaction I feel at his affliction. It is not like me.

Serena's eggs hatch. Her children go to serve the Lightweaver without seeing their father. Serena is moved to another cave, and her nesting cave lies vacant for some days before it is allowed use again. But still, Serena is kept alone, and only Shadow attends her. I visit often, but Shadow -- while sympathetic -- does not allow me in. Cannot, he says.

I am empty. Weld is not here to comfort me. Terra tries her best to ease my pain -- and Serena's friends, Erasthmus and Zidane and Freya, all do their best to draw me out, and keep me from retreating into solitude. I am grateful to them, but they cannot make up for Serena's easy presence.

It is late into my visit when I get word: her open sores have healed, and she can have visitors. Elated, I rush to her cave...! I call to her from the entrance...!

"Enter," she says, and I drink in her voice.

I come. In the shadow I see her rise. And there I see it -- the deformity, the clawed grotesqueness on her shoulders. I force myself not to stop and gape at it... I make myself look at her eyes. I stop a dragonlength away from her. She approaches tentatively, but stops, leaving space between us.

"I've missed you, Beloved," I say. "Are... are you well now?"

She hesitates, then nods. In that hesitation I see a world of hurt and pain.

"I came too late," I say.

She shakes her head. "No, no... You could not have known."

"I could have been there to protect you."

"Against an Imperial ten times your size?" She shakes her head again. "I should have protected myself and been more aware... he was just waiting for an opportunity. And you can't protect me all the time." The way she turns her head... it pains me.

I close the distance between us, but hesitate before touching her. "I go back in two days. May I... may I spend them with you?"

I cannot interpret her long regard. But in time she curls herself upon the cave floor and pats the ground beside her. I arrange myself next to her... and breathe a heavy sigh when she lays her head over my back. I think, finally, that maybe... just maybe... she will mend.

***

I spend the rest of my stay like that, just being near her. Sometimes we talk. I pass on the well-wishes of her friends. I scour my memory for events in the Lair that she missed... though I paid little heed to goings-on over the past month. But mostly we are silent. I hope my presence brings her peace.

Terra checks up on us, and Shadow suffers her to bring us some nourishment. I eat heartily, Serena meagerly... until I whisper to Terra some of Serena's favorite morsels, and they begin to appear amongst the forage that Terra brings.

It is nearly time for me to leave when I remember what I had meant to ask Serena, a lifetime ago before all that befell her. And so I ask: What if I looked different? What if I took on a different hide or breed? And then...

Oh then...

She laughs.

# # #

'Make me strong.'

It's the first thing I say when I get back to the Lair by the Sea, and I say it to Argos, who has always intimidated me in the past. But things have changed. I have changed, on the inside, and I need my outsides to match. I need my learning to match. 'Make me strong,' I say, and expect confusion, skepticism, rejection.

Instead, Argos says, 'Very well.'

He does not take me to the Mire, which I expect, but to the sea, where we fight the Maren, the kelp tenders, the octopuses that twine their arms around my ribcage and squeeze until I feel my body will burst. Nor is this some sinecure for Argos and Imbrius, who escort me. They get hurt. Badly. This is hard for them as well. I think that they could use someone stronger than me to help them, but I don't make that suggestion. For the first time, I'm not willing to be the sacrifice.

Serena needs me.

So I go back, over and over again. Dodge porpoises and eels, test my claws on the hides of mammertees, am wounded grievously, get up again and fight, break limbs, am healed, get up again and fight, am smothered to unconsciousness by spells, shake them off, get up again and fight, and all the while I hear in my head, over and over: I will never be too weak to save her again. Never again. Never again.

It is Reina who gives me the breedchange scroll. She says, diffident, 'We know your beloved is a skydancer. We thought you might like to share her shape.'

All night that night I stared at the scroll. I was born a tundra, and Serena fell in love with me that way. In many ways, skydancers are frailer than my birth breed. But Reina and Argos are the eldest fighters in the clan, and they are the most vicious. Imbrius, who is several times their size, would be the first to tell me that technique matters more than size ('though given equal technique, size can be a deciding factor. So don't stop training.'). I will lose nothing by taking on this new shape. And I may gain something by it: the ability to love Serena more comfortably, when we lie together.

Just before dawn, I use the scroll. When I go out to join Argos for the training, he grunts acknowledgment of the change, and nothing more... and this is somehow better than any other thing he could have done or said. It makes me feel normal--very useful, since afterwards I spend hours being bruised and maimed by creatures who sense the uncertainty of my new body.

Imbrius is the one who escorts me to the hoard and nudges me. 'Go pick some things to wear. Your old things no longer fit.'

When I walk through the clan now, dragonesses whisper. I look like a dragon who can claw down a wave sweeper, because I have.

Never again.

# # #

As I fly back to the Suncliff Lair, I fret that Serena will not recognize me in my new shape. I should not have worried. The only surprise she shows is a widening of her eyes, and then she is rubbing her head against my neck, murmuring "Welcome home."

I have worried so much about her in my absence, but she is smiling. She walks the marketplace with poise and confidence. She no longer cowers in her cave. Her friend Freya pulls me aside. "She's been pining for you," she says. "It's a good sign." and she smiles. It buoys me up.

But I can't help noticing how Serena gives the Imperials a wide berth. I don't ask her about it; I'm not sure it's time yet.

It surprises me, then, when she pulls me tentatively towards the nesting grounds... to explore my new shape, she says. I let her. The two eggs that result are a joy -- a new beginning.

But after our children hatch, we leave the nest to most distressing news. The entire clan whispers about demons and conspiracy... of death.

The Cloudkeeper's Dream has fallen.

Cloudkeeper is one of the Lair by the Sea's oldest allies. The news that has filtered to the Suncliff Lair is fragmented, lacking specifics. No names, no faces... I can only guess who has fallen. Weld comes to me, distressed. Serena urges us to go -- to offer whatever assistance we can. So late. Too late.

***

And to think I said 'never again!'

Weld and I arrived to devastation, and we immediately went to work. The rescue parties had long since dug out all the afflicted dragons and familiars and taken them to the healers, so we went to work instead on the wreckage. So much wreckage! The kiteship had not been a small vessel, and its destruction had left detritus littered all over the beaches and cliffs, even in the ocean. All of this was material painstakingly gathered by Cloudkeeper's dragons, and represented years of effort and investment.... and now all it was good for was burning.

Weld and I worked for days, hauling pieces into piles, fishing out the remains of other dragons' possessions, clawing up coins and gems where they'd been stabbed into the soil by the weight of the falling kiteship. The pathos of it, of seeing what was once a thriving clan's home, reduced to splinters... and the dead! Among their clan and ours...!

The work was exhausting, and we were not well-suited for it, my son and I. His fur protected him somewhat from the nicks and bruises, and I remembered that not long ago I too would have had the shield of a tundra hide. My skydancer skin shows even the faintest marks. I tire more quickly than the larger breeds, but I find the muscle I built fighting the beasts of the Kelp Beds stands me in good stead, and my lither shape allows me to wiggle into smaller spaces. There were layers of the ship over layers, and I could sometimes slide beneath the topmost to see if anything beneath had been preserved.

That was what I was doing when the wreckage collapsed into me.

I remembered the sudden darkness of the hole into which I'd squeezed, after the brilliance of the Lightweaver's sunshine. I remembered blinking with watering eyes, and seeing an entire kitecell nearly entirely preserved. I remembered turning to call up to Weld that we needed someone to excavate here.

I remembered the groan of the wood above me. The tremor of the makeshift ceiling.

I remember it falling, and then pain, and then desperation. My chest was crushed; I couldn't get in a full breath. I scrabbled with claws and couldn't move, couldn't shout. I wheezed and gagged on a mouthful of blood. My heart raced and I coughed, and I thought I will never see Serena again.

Then a ray of light fell on my back. And another, blinding me, on my head. As I squinted up, I saw the enormous hands of an Imperial throwing back the heavy timbers that had me trapped. I croaked, 'Yes! Here! Please, I'm hurt!'

'We're coming!' called a dragoness. And then, 'I'll get the healers! Keep digging!'

My joy at my reprieve was so enormous I was lightheaded, and when those large hands finally freed me and lifted me out I wept. 'Thank you! Oh, gods, thank you--'

Consort said, ears pinned back, very quiet, 'You're welcome. Fossy.'

***

I woke to rage and fear but no pain, and to Calla holding me down. She was a new member of the clan I didn't know well, a dark-socked skydancer with a no-nonsense gaze and a lot more strength than her narrow frame suggested. 'Stop that,' she said. 'You're going to tip the table over.'

'What--I--' I stopped, gasped in a breath. 'I can breathe?'

'You're fine,' she said. 'We got to you in time, thanks to Arete and Consort. Aspasia was able to heal you entirely. You're fine.'

'Consort!'

She nodded, turning back to the table and pouring something vile-smelling out of a small clay pot. 'He certainly saved your life. You were past the point where bonesetting could have saved you. Only magic would have helped, and the ability of magic to affect the body begins attenuating from the moment of injury. Had it been even an hour longer, you would have died.'

My lips curled back from my teeth. 'He did it to look good.'

The other skydancer frowned, crest sagging. 'I beg your pardon?'

'Consort!'

'You're delirious,' Calla said, pushing a cup on me. 'Drink this. You've lost a lot of fluid. You need to restore yourself.'

'I'm telling you!' I tried to roll out of bed. 'You can't trust him! He's a criminal!'

She snorted. 'Tell it to Reina.... later. You're not going anywhere now. Drink this. Now.' When I didn't reach for it, she pushed me back onto the cot and I... I fell onto it. I hadn't realized how weak I was. 'Drink the tea. Or I'll have Imbrius sit on you. Do you want Imbrius sitting on you?'

I winced. I had trained with Imbrius. He was not a small dragon. Worse, I knew from long experience that he had no patience with stupidity. I reached for the cup.

'Good drake,' Calla said. 'Finish that and sleep it off. We'll talk in a few hours.'

I sipped at the cup, obediently, and watched her leave. And I did drink the whole thing, vile though it was.

But after that I slipped from the tent and went looking for Consort. There was no resting while he was at large among my family.

***

He has a place of his own.

I didn't expect that. Consort? Liked enough to be welcomed amidst the rest of the clan? He was always so insufferable that no dragon wanted to be near him. But here, like the other dragons, he had a cave in the cliff wall that led up to a wallow on the surface, to be used when the weather was nice. He was there now... with a dragoness.

Another skydancer.

Another skydancer.

I almost attacked him then, I was so enraged. Of course he'd come here and forced himself on another female. Probably one too timid to resist his advances, so the clan wouldn't throw him out for it. I scratched the ground in my impatience. When would he rise? Would he? Or would I have to confront him there, in front of his 'mate'? Maybe that would be better... I could show her the error of her ways--

--but no, he's awake now. And he's seen me, and is coming toward me. And then... he's there. Just standing in front of me, his head held low so that we could meet one another's eyes. Some part of me whispers that this is new; he'd liked using his superior height over lesser dragons before.

'You don't belong here,' I said. 'And if you don't leave, I'll tell everyone exactly why.'

I braced myself for his attack.

'All right.'

I flattened my crest. 'What?'

'All right,' he said. 'I'll leave. Just... keep your promise. I don't want them...'

'To know what you are?' I challenged, baring my teeth.

'To know who I was,' he murmured. 'I don't know if I still am. Just... give me an hour.'

I stared at him. 'You're just going to go?'

'Yes.' He turned to go, paused and faced me again. 'I'm sorry. About Serena.'

I snarled. 'Tell that to her.'

'Maybe.. m-maybe I will,' he whispered. 'One day.' And then walked away.

That was it. No fight. No argument. No... nothing. I watched him for that entire hour, expecting some trickery, some last spasm of selfishness or cruelty. But all he did was go down into the cave for his things. When he returned, he was naked--no magic paint, no gauds, nothing. He kissed the sleeping skydancer, glanced my way, then winged off into the sky.

I had gotten my way. The clan was safe.

Why did it feel so anticlimactic?

***

Fossy's confrontation with Arete left him bleeding across the cheek from multiple scratches... but it at last satisfied his need for closure, and for the proper ending to this fiasco. Here was the anger, the argument, the violence he'd been expecting. That it came from Consort's mate rather than Consort himself was only proof that the imperial's disease was spreading. He had corrupted a completely blameless skydancer. She was leaving too, though, so it had all worked out. A sordid business, but it was done. And Serena... Fossy sighed. Serena was avenged. If Consort wasn't dead yet, he would be soon.

He missed her, powerfully. Weld had already gone on to the Firelands. Fossy was ready too, to see her, to sleep alongside her. He'd done his part to help with the kiteship. There was nothing keeping him here.

# # #

When Serena asked me what was wrong, I dissembled rather than admit. I couldn't tell her that I had seen Consort at the Lair by the Sea -- I couldn't remind her of the miscreant -- nor could I admit to her that Consort had managed to make himself well-liked by my community there. I let her believe that my injury troubled me. But my encounter with Consort had troubled me greatly and I couldn't shake it.

And so I threw myself into the Arena, helping to train the young exaltees that were going to serve the Lightweaver. I let out my frustration and anger and all the stress of my trip to my second home on the warcats and chimeras and antelope that I met there. If my training partner, Masque, noticed my preoccupation, she said nothing... and I enjoyed being strong.

Consort was gone. Hopefully for good.

But I could still see the anger, the hurt, the fear on Arete's face.

* * *

Serena brought me the scroll just as I was about to leave: handsome okapi stripes for my flanks and arms. I hid my embarrassment -- I had worried her so! -- and nuzzled her crest whispering thank-yous. "When I return I will thank you properly."

"And fret less, I hope?" She smiled at me.

I hope so.