To Light A Candle

spicy indefinable scent that he eventually decided must be dragon.

And eventually, he could see light.

It was the faintest hint of light at first—nothing like enough to navigate by. But they were in the last long passage that led to the outside world, and Kellen could smell cold fresh air.

By now Idalia was staggering with exhaustion. Kellen wasn’t feeling much better. All he wanted to do was throw himself down in the nearest snowdrift and sleep for a year or two.

“We’re not going to be able to climb down that cliff,” Kellen said in sudden realization.

“I know,” Ancaladar said gently. “Humans are very fragile.”

Whatever that meant. At the moment, Kellen was too tired to care.

By the time they reached the cave mouth his eyes were watering at the intensity of the light after so long in utter darkness, and he’d pulled up the hood of his travel cloak to try to shield himself a little. He was faintly surprised to note that from the position of the sun it was only early afternoon. It seemed as if he’d been down in the caves for sennights.

As soon as they’d neared the opening, Idalia had taken off the tarnkappa and bundled it across her shoulders like an over-large towel. She looked pale and exhausted, and there were deep shadows under her eyes. She was filthy with cave dust and dried blood, and her clothes were ragged and torn.

Ancaladar had hurried ahead once he saw the two of them could make it as far as the cave mouth under their own power. He was already outside, only his enormous head poking back into the cave, watching them anxiously as they staggered forward.

Finally they reached the cave mouth. Kellen shivered. He’d managed to forget how cold it was out here.

Once more the dragon reached out and lifted each of them out of the cave and—very gently—deposited them on the snow at the foot of the cliff. Then before either of them could say anything, it launched itself into the sky with a bound.

“Well, I—” Idalia began. Then her eyes rolled back in her head and her knees buckled. She fell forward into the snow.

Kellen lunged for her, feeling for her pulse, but both her breathing and her pulse were steady. She’d simply fainted from exhaustion—and no wonder, after walking who knew how far through the caves right after a major healing? At least he was in better shape than she was.

He looked around warily, but he saw no signs of enemies, and Ancaladar, soaring overhead, gave no sign that he saw anything amiss. Kellen picked up Idalia again—making sure his cloak was wrapped warmly around both of them— and began the long walk back toward the camp.

—«♦»—

JERMAYAN and Shalkan met him halfway, and Kellen might have been in for a bad time if he hadn’t had Idalia in his arms. Jermayan immediately took her up before him on Valdien, cradling her tenderly in his arms.

“Is she all right?” the Elven Knight asked, sounding closer to terrified than Kellen had ever heard him before. “Why does she not wake?”

It was a good thing they were operating under War Manners, which allowed Jermayan to ask direct questions. If he’d had to use the normal forms of Elven polite speech, Kellen thought he might have exploded.

“She’s just had a major healing, and had to walk out of the caves on top of it,” Kellen said soothingly, putting his arm over Shalkan’s withers. “She’ll sleep for at least a day, if she can.” And I wish I could. “She’s fine.”

Jermayan held her close, looking unconvinced.

“You were fortunate to have found her,” he said.

Just then, Ancaladar’s shadow swept over them. Jermayan looked up.

Kellen had never seen Jermayan look quite so utterly and completely taken by surprise. It was rather gratifying. “What’s that?” Jermayan sputtered, staring.

“It’s a dragon,” Kellen said, trying to hide a grin. “He’s the one who showed me where Idalia was. His name is Ancaladar. He wants to come home with us.”

He followed me home. Can I keep him?