up her spine. She looked toward the cavern’s opening to see only darkness.
“Morning is near,” Arysteon said, “but the sun has yet to rise.” He lifted himself up on his front legs and reached out, plucking a few sticks from the pile Leyloni had gathered.
She watched, awed by the dexterity he managed despite his size—and the size of those long, wicked claws—as he carefully added the sticks to the fire. The flames flared, and she leaned into the fresh wave of warmth they emitted.
“Thank you,” she said.
Arysteon tilted his head. “Will that suffice, or shall I add more?”
Leyloni glanced over at Serek, who was still wrapped snugly in the blanket, before returning her gaze to Arysteon. “A little more, please.”
The dragon nodded and complied, once again plucking up some kindling between his claws. A small smile crept onto Leyloni’s lips. She’d seen many humans who were but a fraction of Arysteon’s size and yet could not move with such care and delicacy.
“Thank you.” Leyloni drew her legs up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and rested her chin upon her knees. “Were you sleeping?”
“I was, but it was a light slumber. When a dragon truly sleeps, little can wake him.”
Leyloni looked into his violet eyes, which were bright with curiosity and concern, and worried her lower lip. Everything was still present in the forefront of her mind—all that pain and loss, all that grief. Her eyes stung, and a fresh sheen of tears blinded her.
She felt the sound before she truly heard it—a low, resonating hum, somehow as gentle as it was powerful. Leyloni knew simply by that duality that the hum was coming from Arysteon. She blinked away her tears and wiped her eyes to look at him again.
The dragon’s snout was angled toward the ceiling, and Leyloni could just barely make out the muscles moving beneath his throat scales, could almost see those scales vibrating. As she stared at him, his hum took shape—it became a song that was far more complex than any she’d ever heard, brimming with feeling and emotion, with purpose.
Gradually, he added new layers to the song—accompanying hums of different timbres, a soft buzzing that was reminiscent of insect calls in the summer, and a high pitched, keening sound that wove through it all, too muted to be piercing but impossible to ignore. The song was…sorrowful. Pained. Mournful. But that sense did not last. An underlying melody emerged, slowly rising to overcome the other threads of music.
There was something hopeful in that new melody. Something joyous and comforting. Leyloni closed her eyes and listened, allowing his song to connect with her grief, allowing it to soothe her. It could not eliminate her pain, but somehow that music assured her everything would, one day, be all right. Life would continue. New happiness could be found.
The song faded layer by layer just as it had built up, until only that hopeful melody remained. Its final note lingered in the air, so soft, so beautiful, so full of promise for the future. Leyloni’s chest tightened, and she pressed her lips together. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes to trickle down her cheeks. As relative silence settled over the chamber again, she knew.
Arysteon understood her pain.
The differences between human and dragon did not matter in this. He understood how she felt; he’d experienced it himself. But right here, right now, she was not facing it alone.
Leyloni opened her eyes and smiled. “That was beautiful.”
Arysteon lowered his head, settling his gaze upon her once again. “It is a song of mourning for my clan,” he said softly. “I offer it for yours, as well.”
Not for the first time, her fingers twitched with the urge to touch him, to stroke his scales, to find out if they were rough or smooth, to offer even a tiny bit of comfort in return for all he’d given her. Instead, she wiped the moisture from her eyes and wrapped her arms around her legs again, hugging them close to her chest and locking her fingers together.
“Thank you, Arysteon.” She dropped her gaze to the fire. “I dreamed of them again, as I have every night since the raid. I keep seeing my tribe sisters fall, their blood spilling upon the floor planks, keep seeing the flames devouring our home. And…I keep seeing my father.”
The dragon stretched his neck toward her and lowered his head onto the floor within a few paces of her. “I will listen if you wish to speak