see how hard it is for me to move.”
“He is your healer.”
With a poke to Mikoto’s chest, Sinder said, “We’ll see if you feel the same way after you taste his tea.”
Sliding his hands under the dragon’s elbows for additional support, Mikoto waited for Sinder’s assessment.
“While I’m getting personal, do you mind if I get more personal?” Sinder’s eyes were closed, his brows furrowed.
“Go ahead.”
“This woman. Lupe. Do you know where she is right now?”
“Yes. My house.” Mikoto explained, “She is staying with one of my sisters.”
“But do you know where she is right now,” pressed Sinder.
“My house,” Mikoto repeated.
“It’s a big village. She could be anywhere.”
Mikoto simply shook his head.
Sinder opened one eye. “You’re sure that’s where she is? How do you know?”
“I just … always have.”
“Try to define the feeling for me. What senses are involved? Where is your certainty coming from?”
He’d never tried to explain it before.
“Can you hear her? Can you taste her?” Sinder asked patiently. “Oh, don’t give me that look. The wind can carry more than scents.”
Mikoto’s grip tightened. “Wind.”
“Hmm?” Sinder invited more without actually saying anything.
“There are always little swirls of wind, just puffs and breezes, that only happen when Lupe is close.”
Sinder hummed again. “So you weren’t setting off windchimes last summer, while she was elsewhere?”
It had been a lonely summer. Mikoto shook his head. “It was quiet.”
“And these things—the noticing, the knowing, the scent and sense of elation. They feel like love to you?”
Mikoto’s face heated. “Yes.”
Sinder sighed and said, “Could I tell you a story? I think it’d help.”
“All right.”
Ginkgo returned right then. “Ready, Damsel?”
The dragon frowned. “Will Kyrie mind if Mikoto joined us?”
“Today is for you more than him.”
Sinder looked to Mikoto. “Timur insisted we spend the rest of the day at one of your more secluded lakes. It’s partly to keep a promise I made Kyrie, but I also need water and sunlight and Timur.”
“His cosseting wouldn’t hurt,” said Ginkgo. “Sure. Let’s kidnap the headman. And his little dog, too. Where’d that bit of fluff get to?”
Mikoto hesitated. “I do not want to intrude.”
“Trade with me, in the way of friends.” Sinder smiled wearily. “Share your strength, and I will share what I know. And if there’s any truth to the tales, I should be able to help.”
“Friends,” Mikoto agreed, then scooped up Sinder to carry him out the door.
“I can walk!”
“Can you?” he challenged. He knew better. Knew how tired and lonely and scared this dragon was.
Sinder swore. And went limp. And whispered, “I promise, Mikoto. It’s a good story.”
“I believe you.” He wryly asked, “Is that because you are a dragon?”
“That reminds me!” Sinder’s eyes glinted, and he slyly urged, “Touch my nose.”
THIRTY
The First Rule of Dragons
Kyrie had been looking forward to the trip to the lake, but not quite like this.
He was used to sharing. His home. His room. His mother. His father. But when he’d spoken with Sinder about this trek and its purpose—rite of passage stuff—he’d sort of thought it would be less crowded.
Yet as he followed Ginkgo, who braced a crate on one shoulder, Kyrie couldn’t honestly imagine asking anyone to leave.
Timur, who had taken charge.
Ginkgo, who was taking orders.
Mikoto, who was finally taking notice of the way the wind danced for him. In Kyrie’s opinion, it was sort of like the way Fend made all sorts of little bids for Timur’s attention. Such a friendly wind, but more focused than the ones Kyrie usually met in passing.
He’d never seen a wind stay before.
Kyrie was a part of this party, too. Kyrie, who had been taken along, even though the day would be less about the dragon half of his heritage and more about helping Sinder recover.
Making four. At least, four in speaking form. Kyrie cuddled Noble under his chin, since minding the puppy was his current contribution, freeing Mikoto’s hands. The headman had a backpack and two big duffles, their straps crisscrossing his broad chest.
Four.
Kyrie knew as many stories of dragons as Mother could find, and in every story, fours were important. Did Sinder need things in fours? Was he more at ease now that he’d asked Mikoto along? Kyrie would need to watch for other examples.
Could numbers be inherent? Surely, they were only tradition. Kyrie didn’t think he had an instinctual need for fours. Except … he’d been raised by four parents. With enough siblings to make a dragon lord proud. Was some part of Kyrie more at ease because he longed for a harem?
Maybe he should ask Lapis the