“You should probably keep the bones,” Astralux says. “And maybe the fur, although I did tear that pretty bad.”
I look from the beautiful, shiny white dragon beside me to the remaining bones of the bear, the meat eaten between the two of us. They need some cleaning, but I realize that Astralux is right—the skull itself could be bleached to make a great bowl. The fur is unusable, nothing but shredded tufts haphazardly tossed about the place.
I stand, resituating my torn gray slacks, which are especially tattered at my knees, and gather up all the bones, tossing them into the low-burning fire nearby. The larger pieces are cleaner. Perhaps the smaller bones are more difficult for Astralux to pick all the meat off.
How much do dragons need to eat in a day? I wonder. “Do you need more to eat than this?”
Astralux nods and then sighs. “I haven’t hardly eaten in days.” Then she glances up at the sky warily, as if expecting enemies to swoop down. “But I’m afraid to linger too long hunting.”
“We also need sleep,” I say. Astralux had already told me that she hadn’t slept for a while—perhaps for as long as she’d fasted. “Maybe we should find a hiding place to rest.”
Astralux huffs, her nostrils flaring out briefly. “No. We should press on. Since I can’t fly.” She gingerly lifts her right wing as if to prove her point, and we both flinch as it causes her pain—pain that I share with her.
I still don’t understand why our bond means I have to feel her pain, but it makes my heart sad. I look down at the bones sizzling in the fireplace, wondering if I could make use of any of the smaller ones for a needle. That still leaves me with the problem of finding string. And I don’t have to think hard to know that I’ll need a lot of it for the nasty cut on Astralux’s wing.
“How far do you think it is to one of those tribes you mentioned?” I ask.
“Hard to say. They tend to be nomadic.” Astralux peers between the trees, sniffing at the air. “Maybe we can pick up their trail as we go.”
We wait only for the bones to be cleaned enough to transport. Tearing my shirt’s sleeves and pantlegs, I create a makeshift bag to carry the bones in, and tie this to my person before climbing back up to the top of Astralux’s back, perching between two of her spines at the base of her neck. It’s awkward and uncomfortable, but I think it helps me to stay awake as Astralux continues our trek through the forest as the sun sets. I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours—I can’t imagine how exhausted she is.
Still, despite the fear that lingers over me, or maybe because of the toll it takes on me, my eyelids grow heavy. I lean forward, resting my head against a plate on Astralux’s neck, just to the side of one of her spines, and close my eyes. I’m overwhelmed by the realization of how much more I can smell—everything from the salt of my sweat, the sickly sweet iron of Astralux’s wound, the fur of small mammals around, all intermingled with the earthy scents of the plants and dirt that Astralux’s claws dig up and the plant frons that brush along her back and my shoulders as she slips between the trees.
I’ve had many late nights. But considering that I hadn’t slept much the previous night, when we had helped Barbara with her birth, I struggle to stay conscious. I try to think about something to keep my brain aware. I tell myself I should watch the treetops, incase Pesokvglazu or Saurentais fly overhead. They could show up at any point. And I don’t know what we would do, weakened and wearied as we are. I need to stay on guard.
…
“Estelle?”
I jerk and topple off of Astralux in surprise, landing in a bed of dead leaves. “I’m sorry!” I exclaim.
Astralux shakes her head and plops down heavily. “I’m glad you got a little sleep.”
I look about. It’s night, and I still see nothing but trees in every direction. The temperature has dropped and there’s a slight chill in the air. I rub my arms, half-asleep. Astralux has found a tight grove of trees that she’s hidden amongst, helping to block our sight to the sky.
“I have to sleep,” Astralux said, woe in her voice. “I can’t go on. I’m practically sleep-walking.”
I touch my hand to her face, rubbing the smooth scales on her nose, between her nostrils. I really have no idea if this is acceptable to a dragon, but Astralux’s eyes close, and she gives a heavy sigh—I think it feels good to her. “I will try to stay awake,” I say.
“Thank you, Estelle.” Astralux nuzzles my shoulder before tucking her nose under her tail. Within a minute, she begins to snore slightly—which sounds a bit like when the bear had growled at us.
Shaking my arms, trying to wake myself up, I take out one of the sharper pieces of bone and start shredding the bark from a nearby dead tree. While I can’t make thread quickly, not the thin kind I need to sew Astralux’s wound shut, I can make string, which will be helpful. So I roll and twist strips of the bark between my hands, working on creating small, coarse pieces of string, which I then tie together, slowly building out a length that I can wrap around my shoulder to my arm a few times, creating a coil of string.
A strange crackling of twigs sets me on edge, and I freeze, staring out. My sense of smell heightened, I sniff at the air, but all I smell is more animals. Quite a few, actually. Perhaps it was just a fox. I can’t differentiate the smells, they’re still so new to me.
Hearing nothing more, all quiet around me, I go back to making string. Perhaps we will find wild cotton so I can create thread. It isn’t likely this early in summer, but it is possible if we find a particularly sunny patch where the cotton stayed warm. I can hope. And, I can pray that Ariadna would provide the supplies we need, to stay alive and to help Astralux’s wing heal properly.
The strange sensation of being watched falls over me, and I lift my head, peering around. With my improved vision, I can see details I would have never noticed before in a dark unlit forest, like the imprint of Astralux’s tracks to this area. Or the small mouse droppings under a leaf nearby. Or the eyes—human eyes—that are staring back at me from between the leaves of a bushy shrub.
“Astralux!” I shout.
The area all around us erupts into shouts and a bustle of activity as a mass of people, dressed in animal skins and painted in dark brown and green paint, rush out. I drop my coil of string and lunge toward Astralux, whose eyes have opened. I bring up my arms and summon fire to both of my hands, something I’ve never done before. My magic erupts with a spark in each hand, and the people back-peddle with gasps of surprise.
Astralux lifts her head, her tail curling around me. “It’s one of the tribes,” she whispers to me. “We are friends,” Astralux says to them.
These tribal people simply stare at the fire in my hands. They don’t seem as surprised to see Astralux as I would have imagined, and I let the fire die away. They whisper amongst each other, still eyeing me intently. Now I notice that they have bows and arrows in their hands, the feathers of their arrows a wide-array of colors, mostly natural browns and creams—they didn’t dye their arrows. Perhaps these tribes don’t have coat of arm colors, like Amenyl does.
“We don’t mean any harm if you are of Ariadna,” Astralux says.
I don’t know that we should specify Ariadna, especially to a people that might not even be aware of the Good One, but I see a few of the tribal people frown. They look perplexed or confused.
“Are you friends of the Wards?” Astralux asks.
One of the tribal people—who I realize are all men—steps forward. He has a prominent bone and bead necklace that seems distinct from the others, and I realize that the two other men behind him are watching carefully. Perhaps he is their leader.
This man opens his mouth and speaks, but the words that come out are completely indecipherable to me. I share a look with Astralux and notice that her brow is lowered.
“I don’t understand what you said,” Astralux says.
The man points at us both. Then he gestures behind him.
“I think he wants us to follow him,” I whisper.
Astralux bares her teeth. “I don’t know.”
“Can you do your heart seeing thing on him?” I ask. “Like you did to me?”
Astralux sniffs. “If he lets me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can actually stop a dragon from using heart-vision on you,” Astralux says. She’s still eyeing the man that stood closer, who was staring at us intently. “And I have a feeling he would.”
“And it’s not good to try anyway?” I ask, still confused.
“It will distract me if anyone attacks,” Astralux says.
The man with the elaborate necklace now points at me. Then he points down at the ground.
“I think he wants me to get down,” I whisper. “Maybe on my knees?”
Astralux’s scales bristle. I can feel her agitation and anxiety now. “No. They’re going to kill us.”
“We don’t know that,” I say. “We can’t hurt them.” I start to kneel, but Astralux nudges me, forcing me back up.
“Don’t! We must fight!” Astralux stands up on her hindquarters and gives a roar.
“Astralux!” I shout. “Wait!”
The man in charge shouts out, and the warriors around us fire their arrows, all aimed at Astralux. Despite the fact that the arrows’ stone heads don’t seem to pierce through Astralux’s scales very well, they have a strange sticky substance that attaches them to her sides. I flinch, feeling a few of them cut into Astralux.
Astralux ignores the arrows as she barrels toward a crowd of warriors. In one swipe of her large claws, she sends two of the tribal men crashing backwards into trees behind them, gashes across their chest.
Hearing footsteps, I spin just as the leader of the tribe rushes toward me, an edged stone dagger in his hands. Frightened, I stagger back, bringing up one of my hands, and I see him shake his head. I hesitate, unwilling to hurt him, especially when he’s asking me not to.
It was the pause he needed—the leader lunges, grabbing a hold of my arms, and pins me to the ground. He gives a shout, once again speaking words I don’t understand. It gets Astralux’s attention, and she turns as the tribal leader places his stone dagger against my neck.
Astralux freezes. A couple of the other warriors lunge with stone-headed spears, stabbing her in the side, and I cry out as Astralux yelps in pain. Then she quickly lies down when the leader makes a threatening motion toward me with the dagger, Astralux’s dark blue eyes shining with frustration and pain and fear. The warriors quickly wrap cords of rope around Astralux’s muzzle, and rub more of the sticky substance that was on their arrows over her scales. Moment by moment, Astralux’s eyes grow heavy. I start to wonder if the sticky substance is a paste of sleep-inducing herbs. I pray it isn’t poison. I pray that they don’t intend to kill us.
But mostly, I pray for forgiveness, for letting Astralux down.
Tamara Rivers 
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