He has to be here. The room was fairly empty to make it easier for the dragons; later, we’d drag toys and rocks and blankets out of the padlocked storerooms on the edge of the cave. Finally, I found him because the female mage kept glancing in one direction and blushing.
Jealousy rose like an evil monster in my stomach. I squashed it, leaving behind a queasy feeling.
But I didn’t need to be jealous. Shamino sat in a shadowed corner, his head perfectly tilted to see the eggs but not the simpering mage. I started toward him; he caught sight of me and a grin like the sun lit his face. I faltered, and the ill feeling grew. His grin wavered, then stayed. He gestured for me to sit beside him.
The female mage made a strangled sound that echoed across the room. I didn’t acknowledge her but went to Shamino. I made sure I put some space between us as I lowered to the floor.
“Glad to see you again,” Shamino whispered.
Guilt squeezed my stomach. “I’m glad I came.”
“You’re just in time. Listen.”
Tapping. Both eggs quivered. Mia lowered her golden head until it rested on the ground. Had she been a dog, her tail would have been wagging in anticipation.
The noise from the left egg grew more frantic. Cracks appeared. A section of shell skittered across the stone floor, and a rose-colored spike peeked out.
“Nose-horn,” Shamino said. “It’ll fall off in a few days.” Across the room, the woman squealed.
The horn appeared again, sending another piece of shell flying. Next, a tiny snout. A clawed hand felt around the edge of the broken shell. The hand shoved the shell again and again, flinging away pieces as they broke off. When the shell was half gone, a baby dragon tumbled out.
“It’s adorable,” I said. A miniature dragon, and it squeaked. Its scales were a deep rose, dusted with gold… and coated in thick, clear slime. Mia leaned forward and breathed fire on her kit. Slime changed to black ash and fluttered to the ground.
“A girl,” Shamino said. “Mothers breathe on girls, fathers on boys. A dragon’s first memory is always of fire.”
Despite my care, our shoulders touched as he spoke. He blushed; by the prickles sweeping across my cheeks, I knew I blushed as well. For an agonizing heartbeat our eyes met, and the desire to tackle him with a hug or a kiss or anything nearly overwhelmed me.
I turned away first. The woman was no longer watching Mia nuzzle her baby. Instead, she looked like she wanted to Incinerate me on the spot.
The tapping from the second egg grew rapid. This time, the baby dragon didn’t neatly pick apart its egg. Instead, the egg shook like a miniature earthquake. With a resounding crack, bits of shell exploded outward. The golden baby shook its head and gave an almost goose-like honk. The father leaned over and coated the boy with fire.
“Our turn.” Shamino pushed to his feet and held out his hands. I hesitated, then put my palms in his. He helped me up and dropped my hands immediately. “I’ll check the kits. Sweep up the ash? Make sure to keep the shells separate.”
I began gathering the disgusting shell bits, wondering how best to clean them. The father dragon tapped the floor; after watching his gestures, I laid out the shell bits. He blew fire, orange and white and hot, and the smell of something burning filled the air. The slime had turned black. I cautiously nudged one with my foot; ash fluttered away, revealing a creamy, pristine shell. When I dared, the bumpy surface was merely warm to the touch.
“Thank you,” I told him. I hurried to lay out the rest of the bits. As he burned away slime, I found a box in the storeroom big enough for the shell pieces.
By the time I had finished sweeping ash, Shamino had declared both kits healthy. He lifted the box of shells before I could. “Time to let everyone cuddle. Come with me to my study?”
I clutched the broom as we entered the hallway, grateful to get away from the mage’s glare but anxious about what Shamino needed to discuss. Silence pressed on us as we walked together. I’d noticed earlier that he’d been careful with every word he’d spoken. So many words kept back.
I licked my lips as we climbed stairs. “So… what are the shells for?”
“Eh?” He glanced at the box in his arms. “Oh. Armor. For the lucky few.”
Silence again. I didn’t see how we could go back to being friends. “What changes? With the kits.”
“That’s what I need to talk to you about.” He paused as I held the stairwell door open. “Since you only have a few days left, do you want to—what’s wrong?”
Guilt flamed in my chest. I should have told him. I should have run to him that very night with blue ash cupped in my hands.
I didn’t trust myself to speak. Instead, I rested the broom against the wall, closed the stairwell door, and held up my palm. With as much effort as a sigh, blue flames swirled into a perfect Light.
Shamino startled, looked at my face, gaped at the Light again. Then he half-dropped the box and scooped me into his arms, spinning me around with a whoop.
“That’s wonderful! Wonderful!” He set me on the ground with a fierce hug. “How did you figure out—when did you figure out—it was the past few days, wasn’t it?”
The forced smile made my cheeks hurt. “I didn’t want to leave.”
“Merram’s plan worked, then,” he whispered. “He’s still a steaming pile of dragon dung, but you’re staying.”
“Yes.” I swallowed. He still held me close. If I only lifted my heels, I
