The Star Scroll Part 53

She stood in her stirrups and lifted one hand, her emerald aglow in the sun. The dragon spread her wings in answer. Sioned wove light, careful to keep from touching the dragon-but Elisel strode out of the water directly into Sioned's sunlight. She caught her breath as the contact showed her a dazzling array of colors. They whirled and danced in a living rainbow that intensified in speed and light until she grew dizzy and her mind cried out.

The maelstrom of color softened, slowed. And through it she sensed apology, curiosity. Stunned, Sioned reorganized her thoughts and spoke to the dragon.

My name is Sioned. Have you a name?

The dragon came closer, her head tilting in a strangely human gesture of inquiry. Sioned began to dismount. She felt Rohan's cautioning hand and glanced at him with a rea.s.suring smile. But the weaving tugged at her, and through it she sensed a petulance that astonished her.

He's my-my mate. His name is Rohan. He's the sire of the boy over there-the hatchling man with hair like sunshine. The hatchling's name is Pol. Elisel, are you understanding any of this, or am I just talking to myself?

Her frustration was almost palpable, even to herself; the dragon whined and shook water from her wings, shifting as if the emotion made her uncomfortable.

"Sioned-" Rohan came to stand beside her.

"That's it," she breathed. "A language of emotions."

"You mean you're communicating with her?"

"I'm not sure." She hesitated, then put an arm around his waist, leaning against him, and let her love for him flow through the sunlight. Elisel looked uncannily surprised for a moment, her eyes widening. Then she shuffled a few steps closer and hummed low in her throat, eyes half-closing in an expression of pleasure, her head swinging from side to side on her graceful neck.

"I'll be d.a.m.ned," Sioned murmured. "I'm telling her I love you-and she understands me!"

"I thought it might be something like that. Keep it decent, Sunrunner." He grinned at her. "She's only a three-year-old. I won't have you corrupting an innocent dragon."

"Oh, hush!" Moving closer to the dragon, she tried once more in speech. Elisel! My name is Sioned, and my mate's name is Rohan. Do you have a name? Elisel! My name is Sioned, and my mate's name is Rohan. Do you have a name?

The dragon looked bewildered. Sioned bit her lip, groping for some means of communicating with her. Then she had it. Imagination painted a picture of dragon sires on the sand and females choosing them; whimsy put Rohan standing among them and herself walking forward to take his hands. She concentrated, conjuring the scene within the skeins of sunlight-not too difficult, only a variation of what she did with Fire. Elisel warmed to the picture, humming again, and this time her pleasure surged through the weave.

This was the way to do it, then. Sioned made a further picture of Skybowl, the way she herself saw it when Sunrunning, the way a dragon would see it in flight. She showed the dragon the keep crouching beside the lake. Elisel called out happily and swayed back and forth. Colors ricocheted through the air, all the bright blues of water and sky. Sioned let them wash over her without trying to a.s.similate them all. She formed a vision of Stronghold, again from a Sunrunner's-or dragon's-point of view, then focused down on herself and Rohan and Pol standing in the courtyard. This time images came back, and so powerfully that Sioned winced a little. A mountain aerie, richly green with summer foliage, elk and deer easy pickings; the gentler heights of the Catha Hills in winter, storms flashing across a dark sky viewed from the snug safety of caverns. Within each picture was a myriad of colors and subsidiary images: rivers, fish, wild deer and elk, other dragons, trees, birds, flowers, flight patterns to and from each location, surrounding countryside with human settlements hazed over in dark warning colors-too much information for Sioned to take in.

Elisel! Please! Slower-you're hurting me!

The images abruptly terminated. The dragon fluttered her wings, whimpering concern. Sioned concentrated again, trying to project rea.s.surance. She formed her own distinct pattern of color, the shades of emerald and sapphire, onyx and amber embedded in her consciousness, more a part of her than her own name. This is me. Sioned. These are my colors. This is me. Sioned. These are my colors.

And at last it seemed the dragon understood, for the pattern appeared to hover duplicated in the air between them, oddly elegant when filtered through a dragon's perceptions, an image of Sioned's face superimposed. An instant later another structure appeared, complicated with colors Sioned had never seen before. Interwoven with this was a picture of the little red-brown dragon with her gold underwings.

Elisel! Sioned told her in triumph. And the dragon hummed and swayed. She spoke the word aloud-and could have sworn Elisel winked at her. "She knows her name!" Sioned told her in triumph. And the dragon hummed and swayed. She spoke the word aloud-and could have sworn Elisel winked at her. "She knows her name!"

"Good G.o.ddess," Rohan breathed. "She understands you. All my life I've wanted-Sioned," he interrupted himself with sudden urgency, "ask her if it's all right that we're here."

"Do you think I need to? She likes us!" She laughed and kissed him. The dragon's humming took on the same low note as when Sioned had communicated her love for her husband. Rohan pulled away, blushing a little. "Oh, she likes you, too," Sioned a.s.sured him playfully. "But I think you're right about asking her if it's all right to build here."

"But we couldn't! Not now. If this valley belongs to them-"

"Let me ask, love."

Stepping away from him, she wondered how to convey so complex an idea. She showed Elisel Stronghold again, then changed the picture in her mind. The keep now rested down the valley, rising tall and proud, people going about their business within and without. Curiosity again from Elisel; the great eyes peered southward as if a castle had indeed appeared there. She looked at Sioned, bewildered, head tilting in that oddly human gesture. Imagination's picture expanded to include a large paddock where golden horses grazed in the sunshine. Elisel perked up and Sioned nearly giggled; the dragon was seeing easy prey.

But the picture Sioned created was suddenly given back to her in changed form: instead of long-legged mares and stallions, Elisel rather wistfully pictured plump white sheep. The Sunrunner altered the vision accordingly and showed her a pen near the lake, stocked with ewes and lambs. The dragon rumbled with delight and gave Sioned a view of the whole valley from flying alt.i.tude-complete with castle, paddock, horses, people, sheep-and dragons stopping off for a drink, a swim, and a free meal.

Sioned did laugh then, and her approval of the plan met and merged with the dragon's. So you like sheep, do you? You can have all you want in exchange for letting us build our palace here! So you like sheep, do you? You can have all you want in exchange for letting us build our palace here!

Elisel shook her wings and projected Sioned's pattern of color once more into the s.p.a.ce between them. Woven through it was a view of winterswept hills that must be this group's southern home in the Catha Hills. The invitation to join them was very clear, not only across the plaited sunlight but also in the huge soft eyes. Sioned had no trouble conveying her regret; she showed Elisel Stronghold again, and the dragon actually sighed.

All this time the other dragons had been refreshing themselves at the lake, completely oblivious to the revolutionary contact taking place nearby. But now the dragon sire bellowed stern warning and took to the sky. He circled the lake, snapping his great jaws at hatchlings who seemed inclined to linger and play in the water. One by one the other dragons soared windward, mature females keeping adolescents and hatchlings in line.

The horses trembled as the sire swept over them and roared at Elisel. The little dragon gave a start and jumped to attention like a reprimanded soldier. Sioned smiled and gently unthreaded the sunlight. Elisel whimpered again with the loss; Sioned felt like echoing her at giving up the splendor of her colors and the warmth of their communication. The dragon took flight, circled once over the lake, then joined her kind as they flew south.

Sioned watched until they disappeared. Only then did she feel Rohan's touch on her shoulders. She turned, met his gaze.

"It was wonderful," she said softly. "Indescribable."

"For the first time in my life, I truly regret not being faradhi. faradhi."

Her heart swelled with pity that he would never know what it was to touch one of his dragons. "Rohan-"

He shook his head, smiling. "Later. When you've had time to think it all through. When you can find words to describe the indescribable-because I want to know everything! everything!"

Pol approached them, still on horseback. "What did she tell you, Mother? What did she say?"

Sioned looked up at him. "We can stay here, and we can build our palace-as long as we provide the dragons a free meal when they stop over! This valley is on one of their flight paths between the Veresch and the Catha Hills. Oh, Pol-I can hardly wait until you learn to use your gifts!"

"So I can talk to a dragon of my own?" He laughed in excitement. "I think you're the only one who can teach me that, Mother."

"Well, if you're giving lessons. . . ." Maarken put in.

"Once I figure out how it happened," she promised.

A sharp, frightened cry startled them. High overhead a small, swift shape darted across the sky: Alasen's hawk. Ostvel kicked his horse to a gallop, following the bird to the top of the valley. The others hurried after, and finally came upon him in a wooded slope, where a thin waterfall drifted down a cliff. With autumn rains it would swell to a roaring torrent, and perhaps with winter it would turn to a column of ice. But now it was like frail white gauze, nearly silent.

Ostvel was on foot, his horse tethered nearby, and gestured them to silence as they rode up. His gaze was fixed on a stripling pine. In an upper branch was a flash of amber and green and bronze.

"So your big cousins scared you, eh?" he crooned to the hawk. "It's all right now, little one. They're gone. Why don't you come down now? Alasen, call to her."

She slipped from her saddle and glided toward him, whistling the low, three-note call to which the hawk had been trained to respond. Feathers rustled. She whistled again, holding out her arm invitingly. A few moments later the bird leaped down with a cry both forlorn and relieved and settled on her wrist. It took Alasen some while to smooth feathers and coax wings to fold; when she had, Ostvel slid the hood over the bird's head.

"Well," he said, "at least we know what to name this place."

"Lost Hawk Valley?" Maarken asked whimsically.

"Ah, no," Rohan said, and there was that in his voice which drew all eyes. He smiled. "What else could we call it and our new palace but Dragon's Rest?"

DAW Books Presents the Finest in Fantasy by MELANIE RAWN.

EXILES.

THE RUINS OF AMBRAI.

THE MAGEBORN TRAITOR.

DRAGON PRINCE.

DRAGON PRINCE.

THE STAR SCROLL.

SUNRUNNER'S FIRE

DRAGON STAR.

STRONGHOLD.

THE DRAGON TOKEN.

SKYBOWL.