He could opal, but the trail was empty and he wasn't yet ready to go home to his Rud forest. He had come to dragon territory for a purpose. As he crept gradually upward, clawed feet scrabbling at the rock, his loins and his appetite for food were both urging that he go on.
The small golden-scaled dragon was beautiful, Glint thought. He had always thought so, back as far as he could remember, and that had been long, long ago. He had seen dragons come and he had seen dragons go by the normal birthing and killing processes. Leaning against the wide stone shelf of their cave, he could see her sunning herself by the entrance. Alas, she seemed sad, really forlorn, and he thought he knew why.
Glint was a telepath. He had always been a telepath, from the early days when he had learned to be alert for hostile thoughts. When he had had to urge his dragon mother to hunt food for him and not to destroy him. The young female he thought of as his sister. Yet Glint was not himself a dragon or in any way part of one.
Looking at his reflection in the dark pools of the river, he had long known himself to be of human form, with light, bright hair, blue eyes, pointed ears, and a skin that was almost golden. He had lived among dragons, and only dragons, for so long that he scarcely felt human. When a young man had come hunting the cast-off and torn-off scales, Glint had seen him as more alien than his foster sister and mother. Yet the intruder's form had been human, not dragon.
Ember, Glint's sister, was thinking sad. He felt her sadness and it hurt. She was of a mateable age, yet had no interest in the suitors who had come up from the valley. Partially this was his fault. He knew his sister, or felt that he did, and the minds of the males were coarser and less delicate in sensibilities. His sister had never been hurt; certainly never violated in a mating ritual. He could have mated with her himself had he been a dragon, but apart from their sensibilities there was the matter of size. Had Glint wanted to mount her, and had she let him, there was no way a mating could be accomplished.
On the ledge Ember let out a long-drawn sigh. She felt a need in her loins, yet was reluctant to seek a male to satisfy it. She had never fought another dragon, though she had carried her brother about and accepted the thoughts he directed at her. She was a dragon, all dragon, and because of her strange upbringing she was unlikely to mate. Glint, though only he knew it, had much to answer for concerning his sister's life.
Glint shook himself, hating the way his thoughts were tending. Possibly he should nudge his sister into action. Get her mated to one of the suitors and then she would lose her sadness and get on with her life. The problem was that Glint felt protective of his sister. A normal dragon suitor would slap her around and bite her, forcing her to give in and submit to his attentions. Glint accepted the necessity in other dragons of mating age, but his sister was, after all, his sister. Glint, though he might deplore it, had a brotherly attachment that was not even remotely dragonesque.
Glint's sister held a white dragonberry in her cupped right claw and was preparing to swallow it. When he had been younger Glint had learned that dragons who ate such berries entered a dream state where they traveled afar and yet remained right where they were. He had wanted to share these astral experiences directly and not just through the unsensitive minds of dragons. Very young Glint had himself taken such a berry and had immediately gotten sick and very nearly died. The dragon he thought of as his mother had carried him into the cave, brought him water in her mouth, and cared for him far more tenderly than unknowing humans would have believed. If Ember swallowed the berry it would simply be another trip she would take. He could join her, through their mind link.
Glint squatted down against the cool stone walls of their cave and joined more fully in Ember's thoughts. At first there was only the sensation of swallowing, an uncomfortable pebble under her left haunch, and a bit of discarded stick poking against her tail. Then a swirling and a dizzying, and—
She could see her body lying there on the ledge, and inside the cave entrance, crouched against the wall, her two-legged brother with his scaleless skin. She wondered why he had not crept out to embrace her around the throat and lie against her belly as he had on other trips. Possibly he too was feeling a mating urge and feared to be so close. She was much stronger than he, though she knew that he was older. She could not remember her birth, but she remembered him playing with her when she was small, tossing sticks for her to bring, polishing her scales, rolling with her on the grass and the cave floor. He was her brother and he was not as other dragons were. Alas, she wanted a mate not unlike him, and she knew that was impossible.
She drifted down the mountain and into the valley. The trees were leafing out, the flowers showing in bright patches of orange, red, blue, and lavender. There were dark heaps of flood debris along the riverbanks; tossed-up tree trunks were settling back into the drying ground. Birds were singing, animals scampering. There below was a dragon of about her size. She moved her thoughts close and saw that the dragon was of a lighter yellow than she, very clean, very alert, with the slightly flared nostrils of a rutting male.
Ember moved along with the male. There was no way for him to know that she was there. She watched without surprise as he fought for a female. She watched him vanish and then reappear further away. She didn't wonder how he had been one place and then suddenly was at another; yet she saw it happen. Into her mind came her brother's thoughts:
Sister, Sister, this is something strange!
You thought it strange the first time we traveled together.
That copper-scaled dragon is strange.
Yes. She had no curiosity other than whether this dragon could become her mate.
Sister, this dragon is from far away. Perhaps from where that human originated.
The scale hunter. Yes, we should have eaten him.
I couldn't have, Sister. It had two hind legs and two forelegs exactly like mine.
A head like yours too, Brother.
Yes, but it did not speak with its mind.
Nevertheless you would not eat it.
No. It could have been my kind.
Dragons eat dragons. Why humans not eat humans?
Mentally, his shrugging sensation. It meant to her that he did not know. When she and he were together she sometimes asked him if something should be dug out or eaten and he replied with a lifting and lowering of his shoulders. Strange creature, her brother Glint. Dragons seldom lacked certainty in anything and would not want another to know if they did.
Sister, stay with this dragon as long as the berry allows. I want to see what it does and decide what it is.
I too, Brother. I too.
You would mate with it?
I might submit.
After a battle?
Yes.
It might not take you. It took not the other. It saved its opponent's life.
As you say, Brother, strange. Undragonlike.
Yes. Sister, when it nears our cave I want to think to it.
To kill? To eat? Her more normal appetite stirred.
No. To find out what it is. To converse with it as I do with you.
It would not. It could not. Only you and I can.
Perhaps.
It could eat you.
You could save me.
Yes.
The copper-scaled dragon slowed. It looked ahead, up the mountain, and was suddenly at the higher point. Such vanishing and reappearing could save a lot of walking.
How does he do that?
Don't you know, Glint?
No, Ember, I don't.
If you could you would vanish from here and reappear elsewhere?
Yes. Wouldn't you?
She thought of what an advantage that would be in catching food or escaping danger. Vanish from a place of concealment and be immediately on a meer's toothsome back. Vanish from beneath a male who had pinned you and was mounting your back. How surprised the meer would be. How disappointed the rutting male.
Brother, can you find out how?
Maybe. Possibly with your help.
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How help? Through fighting, she supposed. Fighting was the usual way of giving help.
I'll tell you when and how. You will protect me with your strength. The dragon is much closer. Perhaps now.
You will think to it?
Yes.
Now? Anticipation tinged her thought.
Now.
Unsuspecting, the subject of their discussion wriggled around the bend of the trail as their trip ended.
Glint blinked in his cave. Outside on the ledge his sister scratched her ear with her hind foot and yawned.
Their visitor was not far away.
CHAPTER 3
Snoops
"You're doing it again!" Merlain said accusingly.
"Doing what?" Charles was all innocence, but his hypocrisy showed. Sitting there on the creek bank, idly fishing with hooks and lines, he might have been just another peasant lad out to stock the larder. Yet the two of them were not ordinary. Having a dragon brother was part of it, and the other was being telepaths.
"I know perfectly well you've been reaching out for him!" Merlain flipped her line to another spot, angered despite herself. It was bad enough that Horace had to have these urges, but worse for Charles to spy on him!
"You mean I was trying to mind-call a bigger fish?"
"No!" He did that constantly, and that too annoyed her. In compensation Merlain used her own mind to direct the fish away from her brother's hook. They always caught enough fish to eat and sometimes to give to Horace. Mind-calling fish, Merlain felt, was cheating.
"You mean Horace."
"Yes."
"I'm curious."
"I know you are. But how would you like it if you and Glow were doing it and—"
"We never have! You know that. We're waiting until we marry."
"Yes, but you think about it a lot. You think so detailed that you might as well be married."
"Now how do you know that?"
Oh. Charles had caught her again. True, she did mind-peek a little now and then, but she didn't snoop.
Ha!
Charles, I didn't invite you!
No, but your shield was down. You left yourself open for it.
I did not! But suppose I did? What's that got to do with your invading Horace's privacy?
Everything. I'm showing that you do it too. Mind-peek, that is. In other words, snoop.
Merlain looked at bubbles near her line and deftly warned the turtle off before it took the bait. Sometimes that little trick saved a bait-stealer a minor bit of pain.
Merlain!
Oh, all right, I admit there's little difference. We're both tempted to snoop, but we don't have to. We have a choice.
But you think it's wrong.
It is with Horace. He's not even like us.
He's our brother.
You know what I mean, she thought. He's a dragon, not a human. He might enjoy what we shouldn't.
You told him not to often enough.
I haven't! I told him about love. About commitment.
Which you've learned about from books, he thought smugly.
So?
So he's a dragon. He shouldn't have to do things our way. Dragons don't have to think about it. Dragons just hump.
You think they shouldn't? There, that'd get him!
Merlain... Her brother's thought trailed away, a procedure that involved peripheral and semiformed thoughts agglutinating. Well, Merlain, I certainly don't try to judge. Dragons are dragons and humans are humans.
So why, Charles, are you invading Horace's privacy?
I'm not invading his privacy. At least I haven't yet.
But you're trying to!
Charles shut her out. He frowned, staring at their fishing floats resting on the water. He might have been an ordinary fisherman thinking of nothing but the impending catch. In fact she knew he was thinking of their brother.
"All right, Merlain. All right," Charles said aloud. "You've got me. I want to snoop, to find out what Horace experiences. But there's a reason, besides the voyeurism."
"Of course there is." Try to lie to her, would he!
"Right! Horace just might get in trouble! He's never been with wild dragons, never even seen one."
"But he's got the opal in his gizzard, Brother dear. With that he can pop away from trouble fast."
"Right, but can we know? You know what Helbah and our parents and our grandparents are talking about. Maybe old Zady really is alive. Maybe—"
"She'd hardly be in dragon territory!"
"We don't know. Her head was never found, even using magic. Suppose she's there? Suppose Horace wanders on to her?"
"He'd destroy her and let us know."
"Well, maybe, but—"
"Charles, go ahead and peek." They had had this conversation for days now, with her first trying to convince Charles and then him trying to convince her. They had switched sides in the argument at least twice.
"Huh?"
"See what he's up to, then butt out."
"Well, if you think I should."
"Go, Charles."
Charles' face wrinkled up as he concentrated. She waited.
"Got him, Merlain. He's enjoying a sensation. He's..."
"What, Charles? What?" Merlain tried but couldn't suppress her enthusiasm.
"Eating something long dead with maggots on it. He's enjoying it. Ulp!"
Merlain watched her brother heaving, again suffering one of the consequences of mind-peeking a dragon. She felt a little sorry that she had urged him into this. A little, but only a little.
After his own dinner was gone, Charles wiped his mouth and looked at her with a miserable, sick expression.
"Merlain, if you want to snoop, go ahead. I'm fishing." With those words he snapped up his pole and a good-sized trass flew green and silver through the air. The fish came off the hook in midflight and fell flopping high on the bank where Charles humanely extinguished its simple pain. The fish would taste very good, suitably grilled, once he had control of his stomach.
Merlain smiled and flipped out a nearly identical fish but a size half again as large. Her stomach, she knew, could easily handle it.
Except for Horace being missing, this was turning out to be a beautiful spring day.
"What do you think, Kildom?"
"I don't know, Kildee." Kildom, titular head of Klingland, spoke earnestly to his look-alike twin. Though both appeared to be age twelve, both had lived a total of forty-eight years. Both imagined they had achieved maturity.
Below their hiding place in the rocks on the hill, the pretty girl stood disrobed and golden in the sun. Smooth young arms raised high, she swelled out her torso with its pink-tipped breasts. Her hands came together like mating birds, her blond head lowered, and she dived. She slipped cleanly through the water. She disappeared among a widening ring of silvery ripples, then surfaced. She raised her head high on her slender neck and sucked in more air. Her head went back, all the way back, and she backstroked the length of the pool.
"I think if I were Charles I'd be here," Kildee persisted. "Why should he not be since he intends to marry her?"
"I think Helbah would turn him into a froog," Kildom remarked. "Besides, he's done better than seen her naked."
"You think?" Kildee could play at dumb idleness sometimes. Both knew perfectly well that the two were in love and had more than an inkling of what that meant.
"Of course. We know they swam together naked. We heard them laugh. We saw them go into the tall grass and the old abandoned house."
"But we don't know they did anything."
"No, but only because we're not telepaths. If I were Charles I know I would have."
"Even if she said no?"
"Uh, she wouldn't have, I think. Anyway, why aren't they married? They're old enough."
"Yeah, and grown-up enough too. Kildom, you think she knows we watch her?"
"If she does she hasn't told Helbah. If Helbah knew we watched she'd probably strike us blind."
"Really?"
"Naw. But you know Helbah. Just because she's a witch and our guardian she thinks she has to keep us from learning things."
"But she always says we should learn."
"Book learnin', yeah. Ruler wisdom and court protocol and all that junk. But lookin' at naked babes and actually doing it—"
"Yeah, I 'spect you're right. But someday we'll be grown enough."
"Yeah."
Helbah contemplated the healthy, lust-filled faces of the boy kings a moment longer and then blanked the crystal. As darkness closed out the pleasant outdoor scene in the smoothly faceted viewing rock, she reached absently across the table to stroke the head of her familiar.
She rubbed the smooth back, so very black that it shone with a sheen of its own making.
"Katbah, the boys are aging. But for all of that they still want to see what they shouldn't. In that way they're just as they were twenty years back at the witch's convention."
"Meow," Katbah agreed, arching his back to her hand. In many ways they were extensions of each other, the familiar and herself. When Katbah needed a scratch Helbah found the place without direct telepathy. Likewise when the feline creature sensed something out of the old woman's sight there was no need for further warning. Until Helbah had restocked her supply of crystals her familiar had been her royalty sitter. Watching the young scamps with sharp eyes, Katbah had informed on them as necessary.
"You know I suggested Glow take a nice swim this morning and I knew where they'd go. They thought they were smart shutting you in the pantry. We have to let them think that. Kinglets they may be, but someday they will rule without our help."
Katbah yawned and scratched a flea off his ear. An ordinary cat would have bitten it, but Katbah was almost too gentle at times. Of course an enemy such as they were to face again was a different matter. Tooth to tooth, claw to claw, the fearless feline had battled Witch Zady that time in their hotel room. In human terms that had been a long time back—twenty years back—but to their kind, hardly a few finger snaps.