Dragon Blood (World of the Lupi #14)

The boat father fell into the water.


The great wings beat once and again, carrying the dragon up and away. And to Rule’s amazement, he didn’t circle around and come back.

“Tch,” Madame said. “You have let him take your knife away with him.”

? ? ?

IT was much later when he learned why the dragon left.

Their hosts had been very excited about the near calamity. They’d needed to tell the tale over and over, to compare it to other tales of miraculous survival. Beastmasters could turn aside the other great beasts that wandered this world, he learned. But not dragons. None of them had ever heard of someone surviving such an attack by a dragon, so the boat father was as much lauded for his luck as Rule was for his courage.

Lauded, that is, by everyone but Grandmother. While bandaging Rule’s leg—the wound had reopened—she informed him that he had been very foolish.

He didn’t argue. How could he, when she was right? He’d acted without weighing the consequences. Did he have the right to risk himself when his son’s life was at stake? To risk sending Lily into mate shock?

Not that there had been time to weigh consequences, he thought as he unrolled the blankets that served as his bedding. Everyone was finally quieting down for sleep. He just wished he knew for sure he’d acted to save a life, and not just because action—any action—had felt so damn good.

And he’d learned something, hadn’t he? Something that had his mind clicking away at his half-formed plan, adding to it. He lay down on his folded blanket and stared up at a sky brilliant with stars and knew it would be a long time before he could sleep. So it didn’t much matter that Gan would not stop talking. She had missed the brief battle, having had the sense to dive deep underwater when she heard Madame’s warning, and intended to rectify that omission by discussing it endlessly.

There was just enough room for the boat’s passengers to lie head to foot between the side of the boat and the cargo neatly stowed on its deck; not enough room for them to lie side by side. Gan sat up in her own bedding near Rule’s feet, chattering away. Madame lay near Rule’s head. Rule wasn’t really listening to the one-sided conversation until Gan asked a question and Madame answered it.

“You did what?” he asked, low-voiced.

“I showed him who he was dealing with,” Madame repeated.

“Good for you!” Gan said cheerfully.

“Yes,” Rule said, “I heard what you said. But I don’t know what it means.”

“You did realize that the dragon was an adolescent?”

“I knew he was smaller than other dragons I’ve seen, but . . . a teenage dragon?”

“Is this such a surprise?”

Yes, somehow it was. “His age has something to do with you showing him what he was dealing with?”

“All teenagers are difficult. Teenage dragons especially are not sensible. They want only to hunt, fight with each other, and burn things. This is why European stories of dragons are so different from Chinese stories of dragons.”

Wait, what? “European stories are about teenage dragons?”

“Of course. Adult dragons send their adolescents away until they are old enough for sense. In the old days, this meant sending the adolescents away to Europe. Sometimes Africa, but mostly Europe. You lupi do something similar.”

“We send our teens to the terra tradis until they learn to control their wolves. We don’t wait for them to become sensible.”

She gave a snort of amusement. “That would be too long to wait, I think. But this custom of sending away the adolescents is why I stopped hiding my power and gave this teenager a pinch.”

Rule’s eyebrows lifted. “You’ve been hiding your power?”

“What kind of pinch?” Gan asked.

“The kind adult dragons use to rebuke their offspring. It is a small tweak in the . . . bah. I do not know the English words. It hurts, but does no damage. And of course I hide my power. We do not wish for the spawn or someone with the Sight to know what manner of threat I am.”

Gan was literally bouncing with excitement. “So the dragon thought you were a dragon, too. An adult dragon, who could send him away. That’s why he didn’t come back?”

“I treated him as an adult would treat an adolescent who intruded on his territory. The youngster responded properly. I do not know what he thought.”

“So Rule didn’t need to be a hero after all?”

Madame didn’t answer immediately. When she did speak, her words came slowly. “It has been a long time since I pinched a dragon. That is body magic, and I have no great affinity for it. It took several moments to find the place to pinch. Had Rule not caused the dragon to release his prey, he would still have flown off because he had been rebuked by an elder . . . but with the boat father clutched in his talons. This does not make Rule’s action wise,” she added sternly. “But I do not deny that he made a difference.”

“Thank you,” Rule said dryly.

“The girl will be even more silly now that you are a hero,” she informed him. “And the father will not stand in her way. He may urge you to mate with her.”

“To fuck her, you mean?” Gan didn’t sound as if she liked the idea, which surprised Rule. Gan was generally in favor of fucking anyone, anytime, anywhere. “Rule’s not supposed to fuck anyone but Lily Yu. They got married.”

“Yes,” Rule said even more dryly. “Which may be difficult to explain to the young lady. Madame, I need to ask you about the limits of ensorcellment. You heard what the beastmasters said about the—”

Rule! Rule, can you hear me?

“Yes,” he whispered as the world shuddered and shuddered. “Yes. Lily. You’re all right?”

I’m with Cynna. We’re captives, but we’re okay. We’re in Lang Xin. You?

“Lang Xin. Yes, we knew—we guessed—we’re fine. We’re all fine, and we’re coming.”

All? Who’s with . . . Her mental voice faded out, then came a last whisper. Too far away still. We’ll talk when you’re . . . And it was gone.

“Rule,” Madame said sharply. “It is Lily? She is mindspeaking you?”

He couldn’t answer, not right away. Not until he stopped weeping.

Two hundred miles away, Lily wiped the wetness from her cheeks, then woke Cynna to tell her.





TWENTY-ONE




HE was fast and he was pissed. He came up off the ground, bounced on his toes—had no one ever told him not to telegraph his moves?—and swung into a powerful roundhouse kick.

Lily swayed out of the way, her bent arm shooting up so her forearm connected with his calf—and shoved. He went down hard. Again.

“Tíng!” Second Fist Fang called out. Halt.

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