Page 165 of Dragon Outcast (Age of Fire 3)

“It shouldn’t be long. My wings are almost in. Failing that, visit late at night. The balcony is big enough for you to slip through.”

Rhea and Fourfang arrived with the side of beef, bearing it on a pole between them. NiVom tore great gaps in it, belched, and then crept out onto the balcony and spread his wings. He fell into open air and soared off.

Thanks to the clear moonlight the Copper could watch him for a long time as he flew south. He called Nilrasha to him and told her a somewhat expurgated version of events.

“So what now?” she asked.

He almost swore at her in his frustration and grief at NiVom’s news. “We’re taking that trip back to the Lavadome. I’m going to do what I can to confuse the pursuit. Then I need to see the Tyr.”

“Darling, your wings are weeping. I think they’ll be in any day now. Must be all the excitement.”

He went over to one of the square stone blocks bordering the balcony and tore his back across it. Nilrasha gasped. The pain, and with it hot, sweet-stinking relief, helped his ugly fighting mood. He raised his left wing. Beautiful blue-veined membranes blotted out the moon and the receding dot of NiVom.

He turned. Now for the real test. He opened the right, and pushed out the wing.

He was thankful the pain blotted out some of the disappointment when it wouldn’t extend. The main joint at his forespur kept slipping each time he tried to unfold it.

Nilrasha stifled a sob. “I’m sorry, Ru. But it doesn’t matter. Your wings are uncased.” She began to lick his wounds.

By hooking the wing tip in a crack on the balcony and pulling his bad wing open he was able to let the membrane dry.

“You’re a dragon now, my love,” she said.

“Good. Because I’ve got a dragon’s work to do.”

BOOK THREE

Dragon

“YOUR TRUE STRENGTH IS NOT DISCOVERED EASILY, OR WITHOUT GRIEF. LIKE A DESERT SEED IT LIES DORMANT, WAITING FOR THE HARD RAIN.”

—Lessons of NeStirrath

Chapter 21

The Copper paid his respects to the FeLissaraths at the morning meal the next day, showing his wings.

“I’ve thought about it, and I would like to go back to the Lavadome. Just for a season or so. Nilrasha said she’d welcome the change of scene.”

“You deserve to have a party where your dragon-name is cheered, RuGaard,” FeLissarath said. His mate nodded. “Too bad about the wing. But there’s many a grounded dragon living a long and happy life. That fellow who trains the Drakwatch, for example…er…”

“NeStirrath,” the Copper supplied.

“I had the oddest dream last night,” his mate said. “I could have sworn I smelled a strange dragon in the palace. It was almost alarming.”

“You talk to the condors too much,” her mate said. “They think every far-glimpsed griffaran is a dragon.”

“I hear there was a herd of elk spotted on a frozen lake on the northern slopes,” the Copper said, turning the talk to hunting.

“Yes, we should go,” FeLissarath said. “Shouldn’t we, dear? The larder’s looking rather empty.”

“Fattening up for my trip,” the Copper said.

“You’re a wise young dragon, RuGaard,” FeLissarath said.

Though he was almost dancing with anxiety to leave, the Copper delayed another day or two, for a train of kern was assembling, the last of the fall harvest. It would be irresponsible of a future Upholder not to see it through.

Fourfang groaned about having to take care of mules, and Rhea looked glum. She liked the sun and air of FeLissarath’s palace, though she still never said a word about any matter, great or small; she just nodded and followed orders and sometimes cried in her sleep.

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