On one hand Nira knew, at least intellectually, that the oceans were very dangerous, but she rarely swam very far out into them, preferring boats to cold water on bare skin. And the forests of Lileire were largely lacking predators that might take on a human. There were smaller mammalian predators, including a species of cat that grew to the size of a three-gallon whiskey keg, but all of them were afraid of people. There were numerous flying killers as well, but the biggest was the Drake eagle, which, while certainly big enough to injure a person, were almost entirely interested in ocean fish. So the thought of becoming prey to something wasn’t one she’d entertained throughout her short fifteen years. Now, the shock and the violence had left her shaking.
“Storm, if you hadn’t been here, I’d be dead,” she said, sitting on a rock and looking out at the ocean.
The tearing and chomping sounds stopped. She turned and found the young dragon staring at her, muzzle dripping blood onto the cobbled beach. The keg-sized head tilted, and the bloody, tooth-filled maw opened to emit a sound like the call of a tiger owl crossed with the caw of a crow. She might be young for a dragon, but she was massive when compared to a human, and her visage would terrify her enemies, but Nira found nothing remotely scary about her friend. With a little cry, she launched herself across the beach and wrapped both arms around the thick neck, burying her face against scaled skin still wet with salt water.
This time, the dragon issued a deep meep and brought the underside of her head to rest gently on the top of the girl’s own skull. Nira cried for a full minute, her giant friend holding absolutely still. Finally, the plopping sound of blood and saliva dripping onto the stony beach directly behind her brought her around. She wiped her nose and patted the warm neck, then pulled back and stepped carefully out from under the bloody mouth, trying to avoid getting any crimson spatters on her clothes.
“Storm, I have to go. I need to get back home before Papa does or he’ll come looking for me,” she said, still wiping her runny nose and wet eyes.
The dragon snorted, then turned carefully and eyed the massive meal lying in front of it with a wistful expression.
Nira laughed. “Yes, you should keep eating. You definitely earned it. Have you ever killed such a big fish before?”
Storm pulled her head and neck back, her fist-sized eyes widening. Over the two years, Nira had learned to read dragon expressions, and this one was surprise. The dragoness turned and looked at the siorc again, then lifted her head and spread her wings. Her mouth opened and a jet of fire shot up into the air overhead, the heat washing over Nira’s face and exposed arms.
As the stream of fire ended, the dragon took another breath and roared, the sound bouncing off the cliff and forcing Nira to put her hands over her ears.
Finished, the young female dragon looked back at Nira with such pride that the girl had to laugh and nod. “Yes, you are the deadliest hunter around, and I am your friend forever.”
Storm folded her wings and settled back down over the carcass. She eyed it for a moment, then her head shot forward like a striking snake and her jaws ripped free a chunk of fish the size of Nira’s torso.
Leaving her to her feast, Nira climbed back up the trail, taking her time to account for her still-shaky legs. Near the top, she looked back down and found the dragon watching her. She waved and saw the big head bob slightly. Then the dragon’s adaptive camouflage changed her skin to match the beach and she faded from view. Only her movements gave Nira a reference to see her hidden form. That and the massive chunks of siorc that kept disappearing.
Fifteen minutes later, Nira was back home. Her father hadn’t returned, so she set about making a vegetable casserole with garden produce and some of the eggs, along with a bit of hard cheese. She set it to bake in the stone oven and then put her dirty clothes in the washbucket to soak some of the dirt out.
Her father returned home five minutes after she pulled dinner from the oven, making her smile at their long-running joke that he was never late for a meal.
“How did it go today?” she asked as she spooned him up a plateful.
“The woodworkers and foresters’ co-op were very happy with the payments,” he said. “Had some comments from some of the crab guys though.”
“What? The work had nothing to do with crabs,” she asked, confused.
“They see the witchwood profits and feel like they got left out of the deal.”
“They were never part of the deal,” she protested. “Neither were the food farmers, the deep sea fishermen, the jewelers, or any other shop owners. The Realm Holder asked for furniture, not crab.”
“Nira, there has never been a Realm Holder in the Middle Realm. Now there is, and he can change people’s fortunes overnight. He changed ours. They see it as a once in
