Page 72 of Mikoto and the Reaver Village
“Child,” he said softly. “Where do you find your courage?”
She reached up to tap his nose. “Here.” And because shecouldn’t see what was tucked snug around her neck, she asked, “What did wefind?”
“Something … new?” Glint’s nostrils flared. “An unfamiliarscent. But I suppose it must be an Ephemera.”
Lilya’s fingers found silken scales. But also fur. “Who areyou, please?” she murmured.
“Yes. We need a better look at you.”
So saying, Glint gently worked a finger under the critter.When it tightened its hold, he lapsed into crooning, but Lilya didn’t know muchOld Amaranthine. Mostly just the lullaby that Uncle Argent used to sing. And acouple of endearments.
She tried one, letting it roll of her tongue, and wished hersoul wasn’t quite so locked away. Calming little ones was so much easier whenthey found her lovely.
“How many languages do you know?”
“Fluently?” she countered, not really wanting to admit tomore than she already had. “Four, I guess. Bits and pieces of more.”
Glint gave her a sidelong look. “You remind me of my bestfriend.”
She knew he must mean Waaseyaa, but she doubted a newcomerto Denholm was meant to know about him. So she simply asked, “I do?”
“The first thing we ever did was learn each other’slanguages. He knows dozens.” Finally disentangling their mystery creature, hemurmured, “You were right. He does look a bit like a dragon.”
Lilya’s confusion must have shown.
“That is what you called him in my language.” Glint repeatedthe endearment, then translated. “Little dragon.”
The creature wasn’t anything Lilya had seen before, whichwas amazing, considering how extensive Uncle Argent’s collection was supposedto be. It wasn’t very big—probably as long as Lilya’s forearm, with most of itslength only as thick as her thumb. Fine scales shimmered slightly, the softgold of sunlight, but with a faint bloom of pink low on its chest, right abovehis first set of legs.
“Showy little thing.” The critter twined around Glint’sfingers, not exactly trying to escape, but not exactly happy to have beendislodged.
Lilya amended her original impression. The creature’s firstset of legs was itsonlyset of legs. The rest of its body was moreserpentine, with a mane of creamy yellow fur tapering towards the tip of itstail, which ended in a thorny spike.
“Poisonous?” she asked.
Glint shook his head. “Nothing toxic in his scent.”
The little one lifted a narrow muzzle to sniff at the air.There was a prominent tuft of fur on top of his head, which flexed and fanned,almost like the crest on a cockatoo. Then he butted Glint’s big knuckle andreached for Lilya with dainty claws.
Chuckling, Glint said, “You are the one he wants, and I seeno harm in letting him have you.”
Lilya reached back, and the little dragon grabbed her thumb,coiled around her wrist. His eyes were dark gold, without whites, andexhibiting the narrow pupils that were characteristic of both the Kith and theclans. But not Ephemera. “You really don’t know what he is?”
“He is not native. Probably a stowaway.” Jerking a thumb atthe wall behind them, Glint said, “We receive guests and shipments from allover.”
Tiny claws, soft as a kitten’s, caught in Lilya’s clothesand hair as the little one clambered swiftly up her arm. Once again, he settledaround her neck. She couldn’t see him, but she stroked his silken sides and tickledhis fur. “He’s heavier than he looks.”
Glint smiled crookedly. “He is holding his own tail to stayin place.”
“Would it be okay if I named him?”
“Are you asking to claim him?”
Lilya supposed she was. “Is that allowed?”
The little one rubbed his wedge-shaped head under her chinand offered a musical trill. Glint chuckled and pointed out, “He has his ownopinion on the matter.”
With another burble of high notes, the little dragon coiledjust a bit tighter. And into the middle of Lilya’s warm thoughts, she heard a singleword. High and sweet, like a child’s.
