has a shadow of deception or doubt, whether conscious or not, he or she is unable to pass, and the covenant is not complete.”
“How do you make the veil?” Japheth asked.
Noah patted his son on the back. “You will find out soon enough.”
Makaidos pawed the floor. “I feared this was coming.”
“Feared?” Heat flooded Thigocia’s eyes. “And what is wrong with marrying me?”
“We have known each other since we were younglings,” Makaidos said. “We have played together, fought together, even bled together. We are best friends, not lovers.”
Thigocia thumped her tail and scowled. “As it should be! I would prefer to marry my best friend over some sniveling suitor who fancies flying over romantic vistas. Give me a male like you who would rather fight in a bloody battle any day!”
Makaidos snorted. “Marrying you would be like marrying my little sister!”
Thigocia lifted her head and stared at Makaidos eye to eye, her voice pitching up. “My father married his sister, and I am no crybaby youngling. When we blasted that Watcher in the Valley of ”
Noah laughed so hard he could barely speak. “That’s enough!” He wiped a tear from his eye and draped an arm over each dragon’s neck, grinning like a proud father. “There is no other reasonable option. The existence of the dragon race depends on it. You are to be wed immediately.”
A flicker of light caught Makaidos’s eye. Noah’s son Ham walked by the dragons’ stall with the late-arriving raven perched on his shoulder. A twinge of pain pinched Makaidos’s gut. He winced at the danger signal. Was it real this time?
Months on the ark had dulled his senses. He had no gems for building a bed to produce the conic shroud of light dragons needed to regain their strength. Such a regeneracy dome was crucial for a dragon’s health, as his father had taught the day they first built a dome together. “Some gems give us strength,” Arramos had said, extending a single red stone in his open claws, “but this one gives us identity. It represents your vision, your passion, and your sacrifice, and one day, it will be a door to freedom. Take this rubellite and wear it always. It is the key to our everlasting union as father and son.”
Makaidos lowered his head and flashed his eyebeams at his underbelly. Pressed deep into a gap between his scales, a small red gem reflected his beams, his rubellite, a protective shield placed at his most vulnerable point. Even after all his battles, even after all those long days and nights on the ark, the rubellite stayed with him, reminding him of his father’s gift to all his progeny. Thigocia, of course, had one, too. All the dragons of old would find a rubellite for each son or daughter, a dragon symbol for all generations.
He raised his head again, and a dull pain throbbed from ear to ear. With only the glow of a dozen lanterns swinging from the rafters, darkness had sapped him dry. The rain had eased several months ago, so he had hoped for a quick end to the tedious sea voyage, but it was not to be. With the ark’s lower hull wedged in the peaks of an underwater mountain range, they had to withstand the constant rocking of waves splashing against the sides.
Makaidos kept his eye on Ham as he disappeared down the ladder toward the second level. It hadn’t taken long to learn that Ham’s brothers considered him a scoundrel. He performed his chores adequately, but there was something not quite right about him. Even as he obeyed Noah, his eyes seemed to defy every word.
Makaidos rose slowly to his feet, hoping not to awaken Thigocia. She lay near the back of the stall on a deep bed of clean straw, her head tucked under a wing. Since he kept his own pile of straw near the front, he was able to slip through the open door without a sound.
From the corridor, he glanced back at her. Thigocia’s wing had moved, uncovering her noble brow and graceful snout. Makaidos couldn’t help but stare. He had never really noticed before how beautiful she was. She had been a playmate as a youngling and a fellow warrior in recent years, but he had never noticed anything beyond her ability to spin a one-eighty at top speed or to scorch a Naphil with one breath. Now she looked . . . well . . . lovely. His gaze wandered to the space