As the gelding trotted down the street toward Sardelle’s house, Rysha spotted a very large gold dragon sleeping curled up on the lawn out front. An empty plate rested next to her snout.
“I guess that explains why there weren’t any dragons available to give me a ride,” Rysha said.
Clearly, she was going to have to figure out how to install an oven in her barracks room so she could bake tarts. Or maybe if she was careful with her lieutenant’s pay, she could subscribe to a daily morning delivery from Donotono’s. It did seem that she should reward Shulina Arya for all she did. And find a place for her to stay so she didn’t have to sleep on Sardelle’s lawn.
If Shulina Arya could sleep in a smaller shape-shifted form, maybe she could stay in the barracks, but Rysha had no idea if that could work. If a dragon fell asleep while shape-shifted, would she revert as soon as she dozed off? Rysha imagined the snapping of wood and breaking of walls and ceilings if something ferret-sized turned into something dragon-sized while in her room.
Shulina Arya opened an eyelid as Rysha dismounted, tied up her horse next to a couple of others, and strode for the door.
Good morning, Storyteller, she said in a muzzy voice, then dropped her eyelid shut again.
“Morning, Shulina Arya.”
The door swung open before Rysha knocked. That was a little disconcerting, but at least it meant she wouldn’t be waking up the household. The sun hadn’t been up for long, and it was an early hour to call upon people.
She stepped inside to the smell of eggs frying and something cinnamon-scented baking in the oven. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t had breakfast yet.
“Perhaps we should test it with some local animal,” a male voice said—it sounded familiar, but it wasn’t Trip or General Zirkander.
“Don’t even think of trying to put Scruffles in there,” Tylie said. “I saw you looking at her earlier.”
“I’ve worked with cats in the past,” the male said, “and found they are not amenable to being placed into small spaces.”
“Tell me about it.”
Rysha walked farther inside, saying, “Hello?” as she looked over the back of the couch in the living room. She recognized Shulina Arya’s parents in human form, sitting on the floor with a stasis chamber between them. One of the ones that had been broken?
Tylie sat on the couch watching them, a plate of eggs and frosted rolls in her lap. Through the kitchen door, Rysha glimpsed one of Sardelle’s younger students manning the oven—the boy.
“We won’t truly know if it’s working again until we test it,” one of the dragons said.
That was Bhajera Liv, Rysha remembered, the quieter of the two.
“Perhaps some squirrel or chipmunk or other woodland creature from the forest out back,” the other one, Wyleenesh, said.
“Morning, Rysha,” Tylie said with a wave.
“Hi, Tylie. Is Trip here?”
“With the babies.” Tylie waved toward the stairs.
Rysha blew out a relieved breath. She’d been afraid he would have left town or that the military police would have caught up with him and arrested him.
“What’s he doing up there?” Rysha had visited the stasis babies—his little siblings—with him before, but Trip always seemed a little awkward and uncertain about what to do with them. Good-hearted but clueless, as Sardelle had teasingly put it. Rysha couldn’t imagine him up there rocking the baby girl to sleep or burping her over his shoulder. She could imagine Trip discussing engineering and flier technology with the baby, rather one-sidedly.
Tylie’s eyes grew distant as she used her magic to check. “Mm, he’s still working on something in their room. They’re asleep. Well, no, Zherie is awake and watching him through the bars in the crib. Maybe he’s entertaining.” Her nose wrinkled, as if she couldn’t imagine it.
Rysha had no problem imagining being entertained by Trip working on something—he was cute when his face scrunched up with concentration and he groped for a solution to a problem.
She left the dragons debating which woodland creature they should entice in to test the stasis chamber and went to look for Trip. She hadn’t been upstairs in the house before and hoped she wouldn’t stumble across General Zirkander walking around naked.
He’s still at work, Jaxi spoke into her mind. You’re safe. Though Marinka was naked just a short while ago. She’s at the age where she wishes to assert herself regarding whether or not clothing should be required.
I think I can handle a nude toddler without being embarrassed.
But not a nude general? Embarrassment isn’t the emotion most women feel when they imagine Ridge naked.
Uh, imagining things and being presented things in reality are slightly different.
I suppose. It’s difficult to embarrass a soulblade, you know. I’ve seen everyone in the house nude.
Shulina Arya’s parents too? Rysha asked.
No. Thus far, they’ve kept their tweed on.
There weren’t that many rooms on the second floor, and Rysha soon found Trip, since the door was ajar. She pushed it open farther and started to step in, but paused. Large sheets of drawing-filled papers were strewn everywhere. Or were those schematics?
Trip leaned over a diaper-changing table that he was using as a desk. Rysha hoped he’d used his super sorcerer powers to sanitize it before starting.
She opened her mouth to ask but, since he hadn’t turned around yet, spent a moment admiring him from behind. He was still in his fatigue trousers, but they fit well and gave a nice glimpse of his backside, especially since he was bent over. At some point during the night—had he been up all night?—he’d removed his jacket and draped it over a chair, so he stood in his short-sleeved undershirt, also nicely fitted. His dark hair stuck out in all directions, and she suspected he’d been shoving his hand through it all night, but he looked good tousled. She imagined it could be even more tousled if he engaged in something more vigorous than drawing.
She shook her head at her fantasies while wondering why journalists weren’t writing about how wonderful and heroic—and handsome—he was instead of picking on him.
“I believe there’s an office downstairs with a desk in it,” she finally said, since he seemed too engrossed to realize she was there.
“There was a dragon sleeping in the chair in there when I peeked in.” Trip turned and beamed a surprisingly warm and heartfelt smile at her, especially given that he should have been exhausted. “I was hoping you would come.”
“Because you were bereaved without my companionship?”
“Because I need someone to check my math.”
“Hm, math wasn’t what I had in mind when I was looking at your ass.” Remembering that there were babies in cribs in the room, she glanced over at them and corrected that to, “Your butt.” She wasn’t sure at what age babies started remembering things adults said, but it was probably a good idea not to use suspect language around them at any time.