Spear of Destiny by James Baldwin (little bear else holmelund minarik .TXT) 📕

I must finish my scribing tonight, before the moon reaches its peak. And you have a potion to make, eh?”

“Yeah...” Tongue-tied, I rubbed my eyes. They were aching from staring at the letters, just like they had in real life. “Karalti should be rested enough for me to ask for some blood. But... Masha?”

“Hmm?” Masha looked up at me from her book, lips pursed. She already had her pen in her hand.

“Thank you.” Without really intending to, I gave her a stiff, formal bow from the waist. “You... I don’t know if you know how much this means to me. That you’d help me, I mean.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “I think I can see its importance to you, at least a little. Ai-yai-yai... parents beating children for struggling with their letters. The mind boggles. Now, shoo: go and tend to your dragon. And if you can’t settle your nerves after that, I’m sure there’s nighttime herbs that need picking. Shaking hands will make fast work of those plants.”

I scuttled out of the study. My head was ringing. I was too shocked to feel much of anything. I was grateful, maybe. Grateful, and still embarrassed.

Karalti was still sleeping in the courtyard when I emerged. I crossed to her at a quick walk, my shoulders hunched, and threw my arms around her neck. She startled a little, snorking in her sleep, and groaned as she craned her neck toward me.

“Mmm?” Her telepathic voice spat and fritzed like it was full of radio static. “Wuz wrong?”

Before I replied, I leaned in, breathing deeply. My dragon smelled like dust and waxy, night-blooming flowers. Just after she woke from sleep, the fragrance of her sweat was always warm and heavy. It was the best smell in the world.

“Nothing. Nothing... it’s just potion night,” I said, after coming up for air. “I need to draw some blood. Is that okay with you?”

“Potion night? Oh, sure.” Karalti yawned, flashing twin rows of four-inch, blade-like teeth. She smacked her jaws a couple of times, then lifted her wing just enough that I could get underneath it and reach her forearm.

“Thanks, Tidbit.” I ducked under the warm shroud, letting my eyes adjust. The moon was a huge, slim crescent in the sky, shining over the courtyard. After ten or so seconds, I was able to see where to insert the needle: a small vein on the inside of her elbow joint.

“You could stay out here and sleep with me, you know,” she said dreamily, laying her chin back down on the flagstones. “I love it when we sleep together.”

“Me too. But it’s hard ground out here. You could come upstairs and sleep with me in the sandpit of joy,” I teased back. The transfusion device was a small, vacuum-sealed jar attached to a flexible rubber tube and a needle. I set it up, and slid the needle in between the softer pebbly scales of Karalti’s arm.

“I couuuuld...” She didn’t even flinch as bright, glowing blue blood flowed down the tube and gushed into the bottle. “But I don’t got no mana. Gotta sleep more.”

“Yeah. There is that.” I triggered the brass seal and capped off the bottle before removing the needle. I pressed down on the puncture to stop any spray. “Thanks, Tidbit. I wish you DID have mana.”

“Mmm. Me too.” She ducked her nose under her wing, nuzzling at my head. “You smell like Suri. You go cuddle her for me, ‘kay?”

“I will. Great big sloppy dragon cuddles.”

“I’ll give you sloppy dragon cuddles,” she mumbled, her words blurring with fatigue.

“In my dreams.” I hesitated a moment, then kissed Karalti on the nose before pushing my way out from under her wing membrane. She was already asleep again.

I stood and watched her for several minutes, a strange longing filling my chest. If I closed my eyes, I could still smell the intense, intoxicating scent she had emitted during her first heat, see her lithe body carved in light and shadow as she straddled me, begging me through the Bond. Empathically, telepathically begging for me to... to... yeah.

My mouth turned dry, and my hands clenched into fists. I forced myself to turn away and marched toward the tower, mind reeling. I was going to make my damn potion and get some rest. And if Suri was up for round two... well. Round two was definitely on the cards, if she’d have me.

Chapter 18

The next morning, Suri and I woke early: her in the bed, me in the sandpit. We skipped breakfast, huddling together on the sofa with small cups of dark, strong coffee. The sun was just starting to rise by the time we picked our way down to the dungeons. They were part of a small cellar complex drilled into the solid stone mesa beneath our feet, containing four cells and a storage room. Only one cell was occupied.

On Vash’s advice, we kept the place softly lit and quiet. No torture, no shouting, no stimulation except the twice-a-day delivery of a bland meal, which was given to him through a slot in the door. Vash visited every three or four days for a short confessional. We had one guard stationed at his door, and one stationed inside at the end of the cellblock. They rotated out every four hours, and all the guards were under strict orders not to speak. For a man like Jacob Ratzinger, the worst punishment we could inflict on him was to force him to live with no other company but his own mind.

The outer guard saluted us as we entered, opening the entry to the stairwell for us. The door boomed shut behind us, and as the bolt slid across and locked, I saw Suri’s shoulders tense. Now that she had her gear back, she was dressed for war in fifty pounds of black full-plate.