Dragon's Isolation - Miranda Martin Page 0,25

system longer, or something.”

“Good,” I say.

She smiles and my hearts soar. This is what matters. Her smile is brighter than both the suns above.

“This way,” she says, pointing and walking.

The suns are not high in the sky as we set off on our journey. We don’t make it far before I hook an arm around her to help her travel. She sinks into the sand and has a difficult time walking. I use my wings to make us lighter, but it’s still slow going.

She doesn’t complain, stoically making progress, but the suns are reaching their mid-point and we’ve not traveled far at all. On a whim, I hook an arm behind her knees and sweep her up to carry her. Now I run.

Wings wide I run, puffs of sand exploding from each placement of my feet. As the warm breeze grows stronger, I leap into it, and we glide for many strides before landing. I make a short run then repeat the process.

I laugh. It feels so good to be in motion, I can’t contain my pleasure. Her in my arms, running across the open sands, nothing could be more perfect. She points every so often, and I adjust our course to keep it in line with where she directs. We travel in this fashion until the suns are setting, and we haven’t reached our destination.

I come to a stop and let her slide down back onto her own feet. She shields her eyes and stares out at the horizon, grimacing.

“It’s going to be tomorrow,” she says. “No way we can make it tonight.”

“I can keep going,” I offer.

She turns back and smiles. “Of course you can. Is it wise though?”

I think about her words. Is it wise? I shrug, uncertain of an actual answer to give her.

“I do not know,” I admit.

“You have always told me traveling at night isn’t wise,” she says.

“I have?” I ask.

It doesn’t sound like anything I would say. I can run all night, so let’s run. Was I doubting my own fitness?

“Yes, my love,” she says, her hand running down my arm. “We should find shelter or make a small fire.”

“Yes, a fire,” I say. “It keeps the flier at bay.”

“Sismis,” she says.

Frowning I nod agreement that I don’t feel. The word she said means nothing to me. Perhaps it is a human term. It doesn’t matter, I must prepare a fire.

“There is no wood,” I say looking around.

“In the bag,” she says indicating the pack I took from her before we left.

I slip it off and open up, going through the contents. There is a small supply of sticks and some dried dung to burn. It’s all I need to build a serviceable fire. Once I have all the pieces in place, I get close and belch a flame to get it started. It takes me two attempts, but then I have it going. She gets out some pieces of dried meat, and we cuddle up close to the fire.

The suns are below the horizon, and I’m not running, so the chill of the night is seeping in. She is a welcome warmth to my cold scales. I throw one leg over the top of her and we eat in a comfortable silence, holding on to each other.

I can’t imagine a better life. My treasure in my arms, a fire, food in our bellies. This is what a male is. A protector and a provider. Nothing dares disturb our peace, knowing full well I am the superior predator. Her head nods and she jerks it back.

“Sleep my treasure, do not fight it, I have you,” I say, patting her beautiful rear.

“You sure?” she asks, yawning.

“Of course,” I say. “Here, use my shoulder for your head.”

I shift so that my shoulder will be a better pillow for her to sleep on and she adjusts. In moments she is asleep, her breathing becoming regular. I watch her chest rise and fall for a while then put my attention out past the small fire.

The desert stretches on for as far as I can see. Home is out there. I recall home. A nice cave where my woman would be safe while I hunt. I don’t recall her there though. The dim memories of home I have are empty. No female, no Amara. Was I alone there?

I could go though, but something about the City calls me back. I pull at the strings of the thought until it comes back.

Malcolm.

My hearts race and pain strikes hard into