“…And that’s when you showed up,” Astralux says. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you both.”
Undabouclier, who has one massive dark blue wing over Astralux, nuzzles her neck. “I’m glad you’re okay.” His deep voice, even gentle as it is, causes the needle in my hand to vibrate and I pause.
Of course, I’m having a difficult time stitching up Astralux’s wound on her back leg, because every time I do I feel like I’m pricking myself. Blinking back tears of pain, I press my lips together as I insert the needle, digging in-between Astralux’s blood-stained white scales. My leg twitches at the sensation, feeling the needle. Astralux does a better job holding still.
“You know, Estelle, I’m impressed that you can do that,” Ward Mortimer says. For as large of a man and as intimidating as he is in his gleaming armor, his hands work precisely and quickly as he sews up another wound on Astralux—making my side ache in the process. His blue-green eyes peer around Astralux to look at me. “Especially being so newly bonded.”
“I worked as a healer with my mom.” I flinch again, but this time at my own words.
“Didn’t Vladykar Lochan say something about your mother?” Ward Mortimer asks carefully.
“She and the rest of our town, Inizion, were taken captive,” I say.
“I’m really sorry to hear this, Estelle,” Ward Mortimer says.
I start in surprise when Undabouclier leans down and rubs his head against my shoulder. I’m not sure I could wrap my arms around his muzzle. “I’m sorry, young one,” he says.
My throat catches tight and I stare down at my hands, my vision blurring. Taking a breath, I rub my eyes against my sleeve and make myself go back to my work—a half-stitched wound is still an open wound. Mom told me that once.
Ward Mortimer, finishing up with his work, picks up a cloth and dips it into the rushing river we’d stopped by. He washes Astralux’s scales all around her wounds and comes over to me just as I finish up. “You’re doing a great job.”
“Thanks.” Finished, I step back to let Ward Mortimer clean up the area, and sigh in relief. I hate the cloying iron scent of Astralux’s silver-glittering blood. I wash my hands in the river and splash a bit of the cold water into my face. This enhanced senses thing is wearing me down. But then again, so is everything else.
I feel a dull pain from Astralux and glance back to see that she’s stretching. The sunlight glints off her beautiful form, now washed up, and I can’t help but smile as her spine-tipped tail taps on the ground, not unlike how a domesticated dog might wag its tail.
“I feel much better!” Astralux says. “I still don’t think I can fly, though.”
“It’s too bad we don’t have any healing ointment,” Ward Mortimer says. “Oh well. Maybe we’ll find a tribe nearby.” Seeing Astralux and I share a look, he smiles. “A tribe that we can understand.” He reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out what looks like a large piece of meat. Astralux’s dark blue eyes widen, and as soon as Ward Mortimer holds it out to her she laps it up with her long, thin pink tongue and hums as she swallows it. Ward Mortimer and Undabouclier both chuckle. “You look like you needed some candied beef.”
“I haven’t eaten much,” Astralux says. Ward Mortimer offers her another one and she gobbles it up. “Thank you.”
“Candied beef?” I ask.
“Just beef that’s been candied,” Ward Mortimer says. “It’s a favorite among the dragons. And some of us humans, too.” He pulls out another slice and breaks it into two, eating one piece while offer me the other half. “Want to try?”
“What does ‘candied’ mean?” I accept the beef from him, now noticing that it glistens oddly in the sunlight.
“You’ve never had candy before?” Astralux asks, surprised.
I frown. “No.”
“Try it!” Ward Mortimer says. “It’s very sweet. But savory, with the beef.”
I place the candied beef into my mouth. A sweet taste like browned honey fills my mouth, while the beef itself is salty and fatty. Although I’m not a fan of meat, the combination tastes amazing, and I have to remind myself to chew before swallowing.
“That is amazing!” I say.
Undabouclier chuckles. “We might need to get you your own bag of candied beef.”
I lick my fingers before washing my hands in the river again. “How is that made?”
“I think you glaze beef with honey and syrup and bake it together, at least for the candied beef,” Ward Mortimer says. “But I’m not much of a cook, so I’m not sure about that. I’ll ask my wife when we get back to Adytol, she makes it all the time.”
“How long have you been married?” I flick my hands to dry them off before rubbing them against my sides.
“Nine years,” Ward Mortimer says, his voice full of warmth.
Turning, I stare at his fair-skinned face. He doesn’t look but a few years older than me. “How old are you?” I finally ask.
“Do you mean total years, or what age I was bonded?” Ward Mortimer asks.
Confused, I look at Astralux for clarification. But she’s shying away, her face half-hidden by her wing. “Mortimer, I haven’t explained everything to Estelle.”
Ward Mortimer’s mouth falls open a little. Then he straightens and runs his hand through his blonde hair. I notice Undabouclier has “pursed” his lips, however a dragon can do that with their sharp teeth, as he and Ward Mortimer share a look. “Well. Uh.” Ward Mortimer clears his throat. “So, what do you know about the bond, Estelle?”
“I know that it’s for our entire lives,” I say. “Astralux told me that. We share pain, and through the bond we both have enhanced senses and enhanced physical capabilities. And you mentioned that a bonded can learn the dragon’s heart-vision ability.”
“Yes.” Ward Mortimer beckons to me. “We should probably keep moving while we talk. Let me help you back into the saddle.”
Why won’t he answer the question? I don’t have a reason not to trust him and Undabouclier, but they’re definitely hiding something. I let Ward Mortimer lift me up so I can reach the first rung on the ladder that hangs on the side of Undabouclier’s side, pulling myself up. I scoot forward in the saddle so that Ward Mortimer can sit behind me, clinging to the saddle horn as I stare at the ground far below. Undabouclier and Astralux take off, Astralux’s pain greatly reduced and her pace much quicker. She’s quite the trooper—even dulled as it is, her pain is enough that I occasionally cringe.
“To answer your question, I’m forty-eight years old,” Ward Mortimer says. He gives me a smile as I turn and stare at him again. “The bond slows your aging.”
“It slows your aging?” I ask, stunned. “But how?”
Ward Mortimer shrugs. “The bond with a dragon is powerful. I bonded when I was twenty-one years old. As a result, I don’t look like I’ve aged much past twenty-one.” He scratches the smallest bit of blonde stubble on his chin. “Or feel much past it, for that matter.”
All of a sudden this makes sense to me. While he looks young, I detect years of experience from Ward Mortimer that no youth would have. I also realize this was what I sensed from Vladykar Lochan, and I wonder at how old he really is.
“How do you know how old you are, then?” I ask at last. I’m not even sure it’s the question I really want to ask, it’s just all I can wrap my brain around.
“That’s why I asked whether you meant my bonded age or how old I was total,” Ward Mortimer says. “People can usually get an idea of age based on when you bonded.”
It begins to dawn on me that if the aging is slowed that much…. “How long can someone live while bonded?” I ask, my voice a whisper.
“Veremund—that’s the leader of the Wards, if you didn’t know—he’s 134 years old and going strong,” Ward Mortimer says. “I don’t know that we’ve seen a human live till the end of their bond, since being a Ward is pretty, uh, risky, but there are rumors of a couple of humans reaching 200 years old before Veremund, and we’re not sure they died of old age either.”
200 years old. I was going to consider myself blessed to see 60 years old, and now I could live to see 200? I don’t feel very well and cling to the saddle horn, frowning at the back of Undabouclier’s neck. I notice that he has pale blue markings along his sides that swirl together into the vague symbol of a shield.
Glad to see something I recognize, I point at the markings. “Is that your mark on Undabouclier?”
“It is! I’d show you Undabouclier’s mark on me, but it’s under all this armor.” Ward Mortimer glances at Astralux. “I see you gained markings from Estelle on your face, Astralux.”
“I haven’t seen them yet,” Astralux says. “What do they look like?”
“Swirls that go to a sort of four-point star, behind your eyes,” Undabouclier says. “They look good.”
“And what of you, Estelle?” Ward Mortimer asks. “Where is your mark from Astralux?”
I pull back the animal skin sleeve on my wrist to show the glimmering white, six-point star on the back of my right hand.
“Ah! Tristin’s was on his left hand.” Ward Mortimer gives a sigh—as does Astralux and Undabouclier.
I want to ask more about Tristin, but I’m not sure whether I should, with how much it seems to upset Astralux. Furthermore, I’m still baffled by and anxious about the fact that I could live to see 200 years old. And, it makes me wonder.
“What else should I know about the bond?” I ask.
Astralux flinches. “I was holding off on telling her more, because I thought one of you should explain it to her,” she says to Ward Mortimer. “I thought she understood at least some things about the bond. I didn’t realize she was new to the entire concept.”
“I see.” Ward Mortimer taps a metal-gloved hand on the armor over his thigh. “Alright then! For a bit of background, Estelle—typically the Wards groom people who volunteer to become a Ward for years before we allow them to bond,” Ward Mortimer says. “I don’t say this to make you feel bad, but I want you to be aware that it’s completely understandable that this might all be a bit of a shock to you.”
I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my lips. “The last few days have been nothing but a shock to me.”
Ward Mortimer pats my shoulder gently. “You poor dear. Let me think, I should give you a summary first, and then we can dive into some of the finer points.”
“Hold, Mortimer.” Undabouclier stops, lifting his head up. His nostrils, which have to be the size of melons, contract and expand as he sniffs at the air. “I smell troll.”
I freeze in my seat. I’ve never met a troll, but I’ve heard that they’re big, strong, violent, and have a particular love of horse meat. I carefully sniff at the air—and gag. Even my years as Mom’s medical assistant haven’t trained me for the retched, putrid rotting meat mixed with feces smell I notice.
Astralux, noticing my reaction, nods. “Trolls stink,” she mutters. “I hate biting them.”
“I heard that there were some dragon-hunting troll parties near this area,” Ward Mortimer whispers. “That’s why we were afraid that one of them had gotten to you, Astralux.” He pats my shoulder and then climbs down the ladder, his iron-clad boots landing with a definitive thud into forest foliage below. He sniffs at the air. “Smells recent.”
Astralux, peering through the trees, bristles, her scales along the back of her neck and upper back rising up. “Very recent.”
I follow her gaze to see a massive, green-skinned humanoid peeking between the trees at us, a club the size of half of a tree in one hand. The troll raises his club and gives a shout, and a multitude of shouts respond throughout the forests all around us.
Undabouclier and Astralux growl in response, lowering their heads and raising their wings, poised for combat. Ward Mortimer unhooks the shield slung over his arm and the mace from his side, whistling.
Me? I cling to the saddle horn on Undabouclier, petrified.
Tamara Rivers 
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