froze, something tight and prickly growing inside him. He couldn’t think about her. Definitely couldn’t talk about her.
Kalai looked up. Setting the bowl aside, he placed a hand on Tauran’s knee. Without missing a beat, he said, “A Sharoani name sounds good.”
Tauran smiled despite the pain in his chest, and slowly, it dissipated. “So, uh. I don’t speak Sharoani. You’ll have to help me out.”
Kalai pursed his lips.
As soon as Tauran had agreed to raise the baby, Falka had urged moving them both to the tower straight away. It was safer, Falka said. Baby dragons weren’t exactly quiet, and word would no doubt spread fast. Tauran had to be aware how many people with bad intentions would kill to get their hands on a titan. People sympathetic to Andreus’ cause, rebels still clinging to his destructive beliefs, even four years after his death. But Tauran had begged just to let the baby stay the night, promising they would move to the tower in the morning. It wasn’t just for the sake of Tauran’s lingering nerves. Kalai was so absolutely smitten with her, it felt cruel to take her from him so soon, considering how hard he’d worked to care for the egg.
Falka had agreed, and the relief on Kalai’s face was clear when Tauran delivered the news.
“You know,” Kalai said, “In Sharoani belief, each living thing is assigned the qualities of a plant or flower depending on what time of year they’re born.” The baby rejected the last piece of chicken, and instead clamped down on the bowl, flipping it up so the chicken piece landed on her head. Kalai pried the bowl from her teeth and picked the chicken off her. “Mine is ishkia. Mountain lily. A hardly little thing that grows high on the mountain sides, unassuming for most of the year, but grows beautiful flowers in spring.” He smirked. “Kind of ironic, huh?”
Tauran shook his head. “No, I think it fits. What’s mine?”
“When were you born?”
“First month of summer.”
“I think that’ll be kelarisa,” Kalai said, looking thoughtful. “Grows tall with colorful flowers all along the stem. In Sharoani, the kelarisa is the symbol of courage and rebirth. If someone is ill or injured, their loved ones pluck kelarisa and place them around their bed for a swift recovery.”
“Huh.” Tauran turned that knowledge over in his head. It was ironic, too. The injury in his leg was one he’d never recover from. “What’s hers, then?” He angled his chin at the baby in the midst of trying to scratch an itch with her back leg, but not quite reaching the spot.
“It’s late second month of summer,” Kalai said, “so hers is leyra. Sun lily. It’s a stunningly beautiful yellow and red flower with deep purple spots near the center. Gorgeous to look at, but extremely toxic to both eat and touch.” He grinned. “Must be handled with care.”
“Oh, that settles it, then.” Tauran wrapped both hands around the baby’s round chest, flipped her over and placed her on her back in his lap. “You’re a leyra,” he told her, patting her belly as she kicked her feet in the air, snapping at his other hand. “Extremely dangerous to touch.”
* * *
As soon as they finished breakfast, the Sky Guard arrived to transport Leyra to the tower.
Without Arrow, and now without Tauran and Leyra, the archive felt suddenly empty.
In theory, it was far from empty. In fact, it was the most cluttered space Kalai had ever seen in his life, but still... Without the egg to care for, he found himself with hours of free time, not knowing how to fill them. He considered heading to the tower ruin to see Arrow, but Falka had promised to send one of his dragon scholars to the archive after lunch to collect the translations Kalai had finished so far, and he didn’t like the thought of some soldier snooping around the archive while he wasn’t around. At least, now that Leyra had gone, so had the guards stationed outside.
He fetched a broom from the utility closet. He’d cleared most of the floor space, and it could really do with a thorough cleaning. The amount of dust devils built up in the corners probably meant the main room hadn’t received a proper sweeping in at least a year.
Getting to work, he hummed a tune. As sad as it was to suddenly no longer be a dragon foster parent, it had turned out as well as Kalai could have hoped. Surely, Falka and