Kaa'saht started a bit when I snapped into existence within the garage, but at least he didn't try to leap to his feet. Evidently he was growing used to the sphere. He still rose to his feet, though, and bowed respectfully, his movements more than a little stiff. "My Lord," he rumbled quietly.
"Kaa'saht," I returned, just as soon as I set down the pallet-load of supplies and removed the sphere from my jaws. "And how are you, today?"
The young dragon hesitated, then settled back to his haunches and gestured. "I regret I am still more than a little unwell, my Lord, though I continue to improve daily."
He paused again, his gaze shifting to eye what was on the pallet. I chuckled quietly. "Well, your appetite is certainly improving." I then did a pause of my own, carefully studying Stefan's former agent. "I will be needing you soon, Kaa'saht. Will you be ready? Please; answer with your head, not your heart."
Kaa'saht looked at me for a moment, then his gaze dropped to study the floor. "Yes, my Lord, I will be ready," he replied after some small while. "There will be some pain, and flight has not yet returned to me, but I will otherwise be ready."
I examined his words carefully, then gestured acknowledgement. "Hopefully, flight will not be necessary, though flight of a different sort may indeed be," I finished a trifle sadly. I thought for a moment more, then placed the sphere back into my jaws for a moment. It flared briefly, and I removed it. "The wards about this place are now down; you are free to leave . . . and others to enter." I indicated a cardboard box sitting on the corner of the pallet. "In there you will find instructions, maps, various currencies, and some other items that you may find useful. If the call comes at all, it will come soon. Be prepared."
"My Lord--" The agent hesitated, his eyes sliding away from me as if he were having second thoughts as to what he was about to say. Finally he appeared to steel himself, and asked anyway. "My Lord, what if-- What if I make an error, and we are found? What should-- What should I do then?"
I understood what Kaa'saht was asking, and my estimation of him rose for asking it. I sighed, sat back. "I think you know what will happen to Ashadh and Dahiric if Ahnkar or, Ancestors help us, Ksstha, gets their claws on them, what their lives would be like." Kaa'saht winced visibly, looked away. "Yes; I see that you do. I will leave the answer to that question to you, though this time perhaps you should use your heart instead of your head."
I looked away for a moment myself, sighed, then rose to my feet. There was nothing more to be said. "Be well, Kaa'saht,"I said quietly, "and, be ready."
Snap.
===============================================================
I awakened with a jolt. Gasping for air, I looked wildly about myself for a moment but found nothing but the room's normal contents. It was late, shading toward morning, and the front room of the cabin was illuminated only by the bit of light coming in the window from the brightly-lit barn. In the distance, I could hear a banging as either Deebs or Grease pounded some stubborn piece of metal into shape. Behind me, Fields sat with his head down on the table, deep in an exhausted sleep, a half-eaten meal still sitting on a plate next to him. I shook off a twinge of guilt. Hell, all of us were exhausted, working flat-out as the day of reckoning rapidly drew nearer. . . .
I closed my eyes, and with a bit of struggle slowly calmed my breathing. I held that pose for a little more, then with a resigned sigh uncoiled myself from my spot next to the stove and headed for the front door. Nearby, Pasqual raised her head from where she lay at the foot of our children's nest, a question in her eyes. I met those eyes, gave my head a gentle shake, then went outside.
The scent of pine and snow did much to clear my head and settle my jangling nerves, to the point that I was almost calm by the time Pasqual followed me out onto the porch. "My Lord?" she asked quietly, appearing concerned "Is there something wrong?"
I drew a breath in, held it for a moment, then slowly let it out. Finally I gestured negation. "Just a dream, Pasqual. Just a bad dream."
"A dream, my Lord?" Pasqual pressed, her eyes now much more intent for some reason.
"Yes, a dream," I repeated, then hesitated. The images were starting to fade, but even those dimming memories were enough to set my armored hide crawling with horror. Other than young Ashadh, I had never spoken to anyone about my dreams before. But this time, for some reason I needed to talk. Finally I shook my head. "I was . . . dreaming we had lost the war, and that the humans had built a 'reservation' for the surviving dragons. Or, at least that was what it was called. Really, though, the only thing that was missing was the sign over the gate."
"A . . . sign?"
"Yeah; the one reading Arbeit macht frei." I chuckled darkly at Pasqual's blank look. "Never studied human history? Never mind. Hopefully, you will never learn what I meant by that." And find even more reasons to fear and loathe the humans, or worse yet, find out who in my dream had been that place's commandant.
If anything, now Pasqual looked even more concerned. "Many times, when a dragon dreams, it is not 'just' a dream. Many times, a dragon's visions have meaning."
I nodded absently, looking up at the star-spangled sky where the waning moon floated serenely in the icy void, oblivious to the silly little struggles of both men and dragons. I felt a twinge of envy. "Yes; I've come to that conclusion, myself. Every time something big comes up, the dreams start. Dreams of . . . what could happen. They . . . they feel like warnings."
The young dragoness studied me carefully, her metallic scales gleaming softly in the glow of the barn's work lights. "Have any of your dreams ever come to pass, my Lord?"
My mane clashed quietly as I gave my head a sharp shake, my eyes dropping to study the snow. "No, and as long as I am alive, I will make sure that they never do." We both winced as a harsh grating noise began to issue from the barn as someone fired-up a grinder. Well, looks like neither of us will get any more sleep tonight, so we might as well get some things done. "Pasqual, would you walk with me, please?"
She hesitated, glancing back to where both Ashadh and Dahiric lay curled up in their little nest, somehow managing to sleep through all the racket. Finally she gestured consent and we moved to the other end of the compound, as far away from the barn as we could get. Within the shadow of the surrounding pines, Pasqual turned and looked at me enquiringly.
I looked back at her for a moment, a touch of sadness meandering its way through whatever served as a dragon's heart as I measured the coolness of that gaze. "We must make arrangements," I began at last "in case things do not go well. If I fail in my Challenge, I want you to search beneath our children's nest. There you will find a box containing certain things, including a letter that will tell you where to take our children, and whom you should expect to meet when you get there." I paused as something occurred to me. "Forgive me, but can you read written human language?"
"Yes, my Lord, I can; the one most common on this continent, and one other." Pasqual looked at me then for a silent moment, the moonlight creating silvery sparkles within the strands of her mane. "My Lord, if Ahnkar is the victor, he will rightfully demand the spoils of his victory."
"Do you consider yourself and our children spoils, Pasqual? Even if you did, would you ever deliver both yourself and them back into Ahnkar's grip?"
The dragoness' gaze met mine, and the gold within them simmered with barely-checked emotion. "No. Never," she responded, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"Read the letter," I told her "meet the one who shall await you. No--" I held up a taloned hand "do not ask me who it will be, you do not yet need to know. Just be assured that you can trust them."
"And how do you know this, my Lord?" Pasqual asked suspiciously "How do you know that they will not betray us?"
I studied her for a moment, studied the way her golden eyes gleamed in the darkness. Memory of another pair of golden eyes, set amidst opalescent green rather than gleaming gunsteel came to me, and I sighed. "I simply know, my Lady. And, if the time comes, you will know as well. It was you, wasn't it?"
". . . . My Lord?"
"In Panama, when I was about to battle Ksstha in earnest. The apparition that blocked me; it was you, wasn't it?"
Pasqual froze, then winced, her gaze dropping. "Forgive me, my Lord, but I needed Ksstha alive." She looked back up, her eyes pleading for understanding. "As long as he drew breath, continued to struggle for control with Ahnkar, Ahnkar's grip upon our children could not be absolute, and there was still hope that grip could be broken." She lifted a forepaw, made a gesture of regret. "It was the only thing that I could think of to do, that you would not brush aside. I-- I am sorry."
I looked at her, my gaze bleak as I felt another brick dropping into place in the wall we had built between us. "I see," I said at last, not really seeing at all. "Enough of this, then." I made a cutting gesture, perhaps a bit more sharply than necessary, signaling the end of the topic. "Not long ago, you offered your help. Do you still offer it?"
She paused for a moment, looking relieved by the change in subject. "Yes, my Lord," she sighed "I still offer it, if you would still accept it."
I felt the corner of my hard mouth curling upward into a small, wry smile. "How I wish people would just stop with all that 'my Lord' crap," I sighed, then shook my head ruefully. "Anyway. That shape-shifting thing you do, I'd like you to teach me how. It just might be that it will prove useful."
Pasqual blinked, then nodded. "Of course, my Lo-- um, Hasai." For a moment she looked at me sidelong, her own brief smile curling the corner of her mouth, then continued. "It is not too difficult, really; you actually do it every time you shift from dragon to human and back."
"I suspected as much," I sighed "but something is eluding me. Would you be willing to help this slow learner find what he is missing?"
Again that smile. This time it lasted a little longer. "Yes, m-- Hasai, I would."