The Silverclaw Clan?
No. They’re backstabbing schemers without honor.
What are the Starsingers?
Delights.
I snorted. Who was this guy?
We stay out of politics if we can and hunt and seek enjoyment and make art and music.
Dragons make art and music?
Of course. We did these things long before your people existed. A strange howling roar came from above the treetops. The foliage rattled—or maybe shuddered—in response.
Was that… a battle cry? The prelude to an attack? I tightened my grip on Chopper again as the howl-roar turned into undulations rolling across the forest.
That is a dragon song, he informed me when the noise died down, then his tone turned a little smug. I sang to the mate of a Stormforge dragon.
Uh, and is there some significance to that?
I could win you away from him if I wished. Another chorus of howl-roars floated across the forest.
Not with those tunes. But hey, there’s an elf in that village who thinks dragons are sexy.
Is there? Hm, maybe I will break from my hunt and visit her. I have mated with three elves at once before.
Good for you.
The lesser species are always more eager to please male dragons than female dragons are. We must please females. That is the way.
Thanks so much for this dragon cultural lesson.
I had best continue my hunt. Our queen has recently procreated and she demands tree bogrifts from this world as a snack. I will return with a great bounty, and she will be pleased with me.
Fantastic. I didn’t know what a bogrift was, but I was pretty sure this guy had been sent for the equivalent of pickles and ice cream. Hopefully, that meant he wasn’t a threat and that I would never see him again.
If we meet again, mate of Lord Zavryd’nokquetal, I will woo you away from him. He will be so piqued. It will be extremely delightful. He put an image in my mind of a handsome and naked green-eyed elf taking me into his arms and kissing me.
I willed Chopper to help me push away the intrusion. It disappeared, but the dragon laughed into my thoughts, the sound lingering long after he flew out of my range.
I had no idea what to think of the encounter, but I hoped my guess was right and that we’d never cross paths again. I needed more dragons in my life like I needed nails hammered through my toes.
Grumbling, I sheathed my sword and sat down to eat a scone. When I was finishing up, Zav returned to my senses. He flew down, turning into his human form as he landed.
“You’re not the only dragon on this world,” I told him.
“I am aware that there are others.” In the darkness, he was barely visible walking toward me, but as usual, his aura glowed to my senses.
“Are they enemies? A dragon from the Starsinger Clan sang to me and called me interesting.”
“Sang to you? What kind of song?”
“I couldn’t replicate it unless you stuck a frog in my throat.”
Zav looked out toward the trees, toward the pond where the frogs had been croaking earlier. They’d fallen silent when dragons had started showing up.
“I’m joking. I’m sure I couldn’t replicate it even then.”
“It is not proper to sing to the Tlavar’vareous sha of another dragon.”
“He didn’t strike me as proper.” I decided not to mention the talk of mating or the kiss imagery. Knowing Zav, he would take off after the dragon and try to strip him of his scales.
“No. The Starsinger Clan is full of feckless simpletons. They are apolitical.” He said that as if it were a greater crime than being feckless or simple.
“The hippies of the dragon world, huh?” If that one hadn’t been hitting on me, I might have liked him.
“What is a hippie?”
“Someone unconventional who rejects mainstream values, usually while taking hallucinogenic drugs.”
“Drugs might explain the Starsingers,” Zav grumbled, then sat down under the tree with me, his aura wrapping around me with its familiar tingle of electricity. It warmed me like a fire.
No, I realized. He was doing more than warming me. He used his magic to dry me and extend a barrier over us. The persistent rain stopped dripping onto my head, and even the ground under my butt dried out. His shoulder touched mine as we sat together, warmth seeping through his robe, and I reminded myself that I was irked with him for bringing me here against my wishes. I wasn’t going to snuggle up to him no matter how warm he was.
Still, I admitted, “Dragons are handy.”
“Yes.” Zav sounded pleased that I was acknowledging this.
“I notice you didn’t come back with an elf.”
“No, but I made contact with one who will speak with the king and let him know you’re here.”
I hesitated. I’d been about to ask if he would take me home. I was worried about Dimitri. If he got himself into trouble looking for Zoltan, and I wasn’t there to help him because of what turned into a fruitless quest to find a magic teacher, I would feel horrible.
But curiosity about my father reared up and distracted me. “Do you think he’ll come to see me?”
“Why would he not?”
“Because I’m a mongrel and a mistake.”
Zav considered his answer and applied more tact than usual. “Do not let the words of those you met here discourage you. Not all elves feel that way, and it is ludicrous for them to say that you do not have power and cannot learn their magic. I can sense your power. I believe you have as much as many full-blooded elves, which would not be surprising, since Eireth had the power to rise to prominence above many other elves.”
“I don’t care about power. I just…” I groped at the air, not sure how to finish that.
For my whole life, I’d believed I had no magic of my own, only what I’d found in my weapons and my charms, and I’d accepted that as the way it was. Even though it would be handy to be able to save myself from mental compulsions, I could go on living and surviving without magic of my own. What I would like was to meet my father and for him to not be an asshole.
When Lirena—Anyasha-sulin—had shown up, pretending to be my cousin, I’d been easier to fool than I should have been. Because I’d wanted to meet my father and other relatives. Even if I rarely admitted it, I’d wondered about them from time to time, wondered what it would be like not to be an only child with my mother my only living relative.
“I don’t know, Zav.” I leaned my head back against the tree. “I guess I just want not to be rejected by these people, or at least the ones I’m related to. It shouldn’t matter. I’m too old to need a father. But it would be easier not having them exist than having them exist and knowing they want nothing to do with me.”
Zav was silent. Maybe I was perplexing him. What could a dragon know of being rejected? Nobody called him a mongrel. Who would dare?
“Some of my relatives reject me,” Zav stated. “I have a cousin who sides with the Silverclaw Clan instead of with his own family because he believes my mother will inevitably be thrust from her powerful position over the Dragon Justice Court and that we should position ourselves to land favorably when that happens. He calls me an obtuse relic from another time.”
“Does his rejection sting? Or do you not care what he thinks?”
“We hunted together when we were young, so it is difficult to accept that he changed as we grew older and does not now respect me.”
“Ah. Then maybe you do know what it’s like to be rejected.” I caught myself leaning against him, even though I’d decided I wouldn’t.
“Dragons live long lives. We experience and know many things.”
“Like how to kidnap women from their homes?”
“Women who are mated to dragons are supposed to go anywhere they wish at any time. You are oddly stubborn about not acceding to my wishes.”
“And yet you’re sitting here in the rain with me talking about rejection.” I didn’t point out that he could have spent the night in some elf’s warm dry bed with her attending his every desire.
“You vexed that elf.” Zav sounded pleased and turned his head to gaze at me.
The male, I realized. He wasn’t thinking about the female.
“And you liked that? I thought you only approved when I vexed your enemies.”
“He was too simple and insignificant to be an enemy, but he irritated me, so I am pleased that you vexed him.” He lifted a hand to my face, fingers brushing my cheek, electricity tingling through my entire body from that simple touch.
“We’re not having sex,” I said, though I was reminding myself of that fact rather than informing him of anything.
“No,” he agreed, his fingers trailing up to trace my ear. “You have not yet learned to defend yourself from powerful enemies.”
“What happens if I never do?”
His simple touch made me intensely aware of him and of my own body, and the idea that we might never sleep together disturbed me. I didn’t want it to disturb me and didn’t want to be so drawn to someone so exasperating, but my body was not an obedient subject.
“You will.” His mouth found mine in the darkness, and my heart pounded in my chest.
It was more of a gentle, soothing kiss than a hungry, passionate one. I wouldn’t have guessed he could do that or that he would want to, and it almost brought tears to my eyes. There was probably a rule somewhere about kissing one’s kidnapper, but I couldn’t remember it.
An elf is coming, Zav informed me after a time, though his lips didn’t leave mine. Somehow, I’d ended up in his lap with my arms wrapped around his shoulders.
Do you want me to drive him away by vexing him? I thought.
Not unless he deserves it.
You don’t think he will? It’s rude of him to interrupt our kissing.
I did ask him to come. Zav drew his mouth back, rubbing the back of my head and gazing into my eyes for a long moment before releasing me.
My legs were shaky as I shifted away from him and pushed to my feet. I rested a hand against the damp tree trunk as I gazed into the dark forest.