Given Page 26

  “Go bathe, stinky dragon.”

  Weysh laughed that beautiful, honest laugh of his, and she had never been so happy to hear it. He started for the stairs at the back of the sitting room. “I won’t be long,” he said, clomping up the stairs. “And we can take off from the roof once I’m done. Happy studying!”

  “Welcome back,” Yenni whispered after him.

  26

  Weysh frowned his displeasure at the mirror. Had he really been going out in public like this? His beard was an itchy, wiry tangle, and he’d been getting by most days with his hair pulled back in a dark, messy knot that he now realized didn’t do as much to hide its state of disarray as he’d thought. He sorely needed the services of a barber, but for now he’d do what he could.

  At the moment his hair was wet from his shower, courtesy of Yoben’s Rainfall. Typical dragon that he was, he had never been particularly adept at spellcraft, but he sure as hell did his best now.

  “By source make my movement quick.”

  There was that familiar rush as source tingled and flowed through his limbs down to his fingers and toes, and he felt light, zippy. He reached for his comb, on the ledge above the sink basin, and it was in his hand in an instant. With the help of Harquette’s Speed Burst Weysh combed through his matted locks, grunting through the pain. His beard he trimmed as best he could. By the time he was done his bathroom was a hairy mess, but the man in the mirror was far more recognizable. He dropped the spell, and with source no longer flowing through the channels of his magical nervous system, the strain on his body eased.

  Weysh wrangled his hair into its usual loose braid and changed into a pair of dark trousers, a good linen shirt, and a long brown leather coat, the kind with the stiff collar that never went out of style. He thudded down the stairs like an exuberant schoolboy, a maelstrom of emotion fueling his adrenaline. He was still anxious about the damage to his sense of smell, and could still recall, with terrible detail, the suffocating pain of the pimentel if he thought too closely about it. And if he only let his mind stray to the barest thoughts of Noriago a blazing rage flared up in his gut. But Yenni was here, in his home. She’d come to see him.

  She cared for him.

  He clung to that, letting the warmth of it suffuse his heart, chasing away all else.

  Weysh landed with a thud at the bottom of the stairs and Yenni glanced up from some textbook, startled.

  “What—”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes,” she said warily.

  “I know just where to take you. Come on!” He grabbed the wooden banister with one hand and held out the other to Yenni. She shook her head, smiling, but stood up and took it, following him to the second floor.

  “I bet you miss Island food, en?” he said, glancing back as he led her down the hallway.

  “Ah, you cannot imagine how much!”

  “Then you’ll love this place.” Weysh took her past his bedroom and the bathroom across from it, to the end of the hall, where two glass-paned doors opened to a wide balcony. He led her up the wrought-iron steps to his building’s rooftop garden.

  “Pretty!” she exclaimed.

  “Yes, I spend a lot of time here,” said Weysh. It was walled by a perimeter of potted trees, and at the moment lanterns illuminated the wicker benches and trellises creeping with ivy and flowers. But the best part was the large open space in the middle, where he could lie during the day and sun himself in dragon.

  Weysh pulled Yenni close, sliding his arms around her lower back. “It’s romantic, wouldn’t you say?”

  Yenni snaked her arms around his neck. “You’re looking and”—she sniffed him—“smelling much better.”

  Weysh groaned in shame but she only laughed. “Cruel little thing,” he murmured. “And here I am about to take you to the best restaurant in Imperium Centre. You know what? I do believe I’ve given you enough free rides. From now on you have to pay a fare.”

  Her doe-like eyes went even bigger with mock concern. “A fare? But, Weh-sheh, I have no money! How can I possibly pay?”

  Weysh put his forehead to hers and smiled down at those enticing, full lips. “How indeed,” he said, and gently claimed her mouth with his. No other woman’s kiss had ever been as soft and as warm, he was sure of it. He could taste the barest hint of her scent, and joy filled him at that. He pulled in her bottom lip, craving more. Her fingers threaded their way into his hair, their grip slightly painful, but not at all in a bad way. He relinquished her lips to plant soft kisses all over her face, savoring her delighted giggles. Then he hugged her close.

  “I missed you, Yenni Ajani,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Call me Yenni, and I missed you too,” she replied, and it sent a fresh surge of warmth straight to his heart.

  Reluctantly he let her go. “Come, Yenni, we’d better get going or we might never make it to dinner, en?” He winked at her and she rolled her eyes.

  He got some distance from her and changed to dragon, and Yenni’s cry of delight was like the sweetest note of a symphony. She rushed to him and hugged his head against her, kissing him and running her hands over his scales and horns, and Weysh closed his eyes and hummed low in his throat at her petting. But as heavenly as it was, after a time he noticed that something was off. Yes, it was his Yenni, but he couldn’t smell her, and it was like a part of her was missing. Weysh let out a hissing, disappointed sigh.

  “What is it?” asked Yenni. “Weh-sheh, what’s wrong?”

  He sighed again.

  “It is because you can’t smell, isn’t it?” She hugged his head again. “I’m so sorry, Weh-sheh. Mothers and Fathers!” she suddenly exploded. “I want to hunt down that worthless dragon and make him pay for hurting you! Do you want me to? In fact we could do it together. Just let me know.”

  Weysh nuzzled his face against hers and let out a soft growl. No, I don’t want to worry about Noriago right now. I just want to fly with you.

  “Yes, you’re right,” Yenni said. “We shouldn’t let him ruin our time together.”

  He turned around and sank flat to the ground to let her mount, and once he felt her reassuring weight on his back, he took off for the lights of the city.

  Weysh fluttered his wings, making a tight landing on the southern boardwalk. If you were looking for Island food, there was no place better than the docks, and especially no place better than Suli’s.

  “Hey! A dragon!”

  “Perfect landing!”

  A group of drunk young men, a mix of Creshens and Islanders, hooted and cheered at him on their way. Weysh let Yenni down and changed.

  “Byen, I love the docks. It’s the next best thing to Sainte Ventas,” he said.

  He took Yenni’s hand as they walked beside the water. Various shacks and restaurants lined the boardwalk.

  “Is that where your family is from?” Yenni asked over the cries of a fruit seller.

  “It is,” said Weysh. “My uncle and cousins live there. I’ll take you to meet them sometime. Oho! Suli’s is right up here.”

  As they closed in on the confection of colorful umbrellas out front, the music of the Islands wafted out to meet them.

  “Ko’ra!” Yenni cried.

  “En?”

  “That stringed instrument! You call it maybe . . . a harp, or a guitar, but we call it a ko’ra. Oh, it sounds like home,” Yenni said wistfully. Weysh smiled down at her.

  Inside was busy as usual, but the conversation was set at a low hum, just under the romantic plucking and soft drums of the music.

  “Aye! Is trouble come?” Weysh’s friend Isaac weaved through the packed tables toward them. He worked as a host for Suli, sending money back to his maman in Sainte Ventas. Weysh sometimes took things back to Isaac’s family for free when he was making a trip there to retrieve supplies for Suli.

  Weysh gripped his arm. “Good man, Isaa
c.”

  “Is a long time from ah see you, brudda. Where you been, en?”

  “Ah, well, you know. Here and there,” said Weysh evasively.

  “An’ who is dis?” he said, flashing a gap-toothed grin at Yenni.

  “I am Yenni Aja-Nifemi ka Yirba,” said Yenni. She held out her hand in greeting but Isaac took it and placed a kiss on the back. To Weysh’s surprise, it didn’t concern him at all. Strange. Just a few weeks ago another man even looking at Yenni might have sent him into a jealous fit. Was it because he couldn’t smell her scent?

  “Welcome to Suli’s,” said Isaac.

  “Tell me you have a table free,” said Weysh.

  “For you man, I’ll build a table. I’ll tell ol’ man Suli you come, en? He gon wan’ say hi. You wan’ de patio?”

  Weysh looked to Yenni.

  “What is a ‘de patio’?” she asked.

  “Outside, lovely.”

  “Oh! Yes, that sounds nice.”

  “The patio it is,” Weysh told Isaac.

  “All right, brudda. Gimme half a secon’, en?”

  As he left them waiting by the entrance Weysh squeezed Yenni’s hand. “Well?”

  “Perfect,” she said happily. “Your friend Isaac is very nice. His accent reminds me of my friend Diedre’s, but it is much thicker.”

  At last Isaac took them to a prime table for two right by the water.

  “I have never been to a restaurant like this before,” said Yenni. “It’s nicer than a pubs.”

  Isaac laughed. “But Weysh, where you find she?”

  “She’s from the Moonrise Isles,” said Weysh, smiling fondly at Yenni.

  “Is so? If ah known is women so pretty out dey I’da visit long time.” Isaac grinned at Yenni, then pointed at Weysh. “If dis one step outta line you know where to find me, en?”

  “No, thank you,” said Yenni. “If this one steps out of line, I know exactly how to put him back in his place.”

  Isaac laughed. “Weysh, brudda, hang on to she, en?”

  “I intend to.” After everything they’d been through, he’d be a thrice-damned fool not to do everything in his power to make her want to stick around.

  Isaac gave them menus. “Ah comin’ back jus’ now,” he said, and left them.

  Yenni studied the menu, occasionally piping up excitedly. “Oh, fish and dumpling soup! And fried plantains with sweet pepper sauce! And . . . oh! Curry goat!”

  “We’re definitely getting the curry goat,” said Weysh. “It’s likely the only thing I’ll be able to taste. Order whatever you like, lovely. Get the whole damned menu if you want.”

  She very nearly took him up on his offer. When all was said and done their table was piled with various dishes that hung precariously close to the edge.

  “Bon appetit,” said Weysh. It was a testament to Suli’s skill that even with his diminished sense of taste the famous curry goat still hit the spot. But he got far more enjoyment out of watching Yenni. She sampled each dish like a child let loose in a sweet shop, moaning in delight with each bite.

  “Mmm,” she said, swallowing a piece of plantain. “The food is not quite the same as what we have on the Yirba islands, but it is familiar, and all very delicious. Thank you, Weh-sheh. I needed this,” she said, gesturing around. “Island music, Island food, Island people . . . something recognizable.”

  “Oh? And why is that?”

  Yenni told him what had happened in her class with that weaselly professor.

  Oho! I knew it! Weysh wanted to shout. He had known something was off about that phony professor, but he held back. The last thing he wanted to do was push his luck.

  “I can’t say I’m surprised,” he said instead.

  “Really?”

  Weysh nodded. She was bound to bump up against this sooner or later.

  “I sometimes feel torn between three different worlds: Islander, Creshen, Dragon. The emperor presents us to the world as a sophisticated metropolis, repentant of our past mistakes, now home to any and all. But make no mistake—deep down many Creshens still consider themselves superior to everyone else, and it will come out in their actions if not their words.”

  He’d experienced that firsthand himself when growing up. In the first year of second school he’d fallen in with a group of three other Creshen boys, and for a good half year they were inseparable, bonded by their love of pranks and mischief. That winter break Weysh introduced his friends to Harth—who went to a different, more exclusive and expensive school—and they instantly absorbed him into their gang. And despite what came after, Weysh still fondly remembered that era as one of the most entertaining periods of his childhood.

  This friendship continued into the next year as well, even though their classes changed and they were no longer constantly together. However, in one of his upper-year classes Weysh met a new friend—Isaac.

  He introduced Isaac to his gang with the same enthusiasm he had Harth, but he noticed something was different. They weren’t as receptive. When one day, confused, Weysh asked why they weren’t as welcoming to Isaac, his friend Philippe spelled it out for him.

  “Isaac is great, Weysh, he’s funny and all, but do you think he can keep up? What if he can’t afford to go to Pascal’s with us after school?”

  “En? So what?” said Weysh. “We’ll go somewhere else. Pascal’s is overpriced anyway. And if worse comes to worst, I can pay for him.”

  By then Weysh’s uncle had taken him on to expand the delivery company from sea to air, and paid him handsomely for it. In fact, Weysh and Isaac had bonded over the fact that they were both working to put themselves through school. Weysh for his uncle; Isaac at Suli’s.

  “You shouldn’t have to do that,” said Philippe. “Besides, it would just embarrass him. Look, Weysh, he’s a nice enough fellow, but he just doesn’t fit in with our crowd. It’s probably best you do your own thing with him when you’re not with us, for his sake.”

  But after that, Weysh found it just wasn’t as fun hanging around with Philippe and the rest anymore.

  And, ah Movay, he wasn’t immune. He’d assumed the same thing about Yenni, expecting that his modern Creshen townhouse would impress her when she lived in a thrice-damned palace.

  “Weh-sheh? Are you all right?”

  Weysh shook himself, focusing on the present. “Yes, sorry, lovely.” He broke off a piece of flat bake to scoop up some salted snapper. “I guess we’re no longer killing and pillaging, so there’s that. Still, no matter what pretty words the emperor and the powers that be may spout, it will be a long time before the colonies are perceived as equal. They’re like the bastard children of the Empire, as it were. Perhaps that’s why I’m so close to my maman’s Island side of the family. That and she would ship me off there every school break to get me away from my stepfather.”

  He popped the bake and snapper into his mouth, only to choke at the peppery sting of it. He had such a visceral reaction he was forced to spit it out lest he empty his stomach. It brought him right back to when he was on the ground of the chapelle, his eyes swollen and streaming tears. Thrice-damned Movay, he’d always loved spicy food. So Noriago had ruined that for him as well. Rat prick.

  Yenni didn’t seem to notice. She frowned into space, lost in her own thoughts. “But I have met kindhearted Creshens in my time here. Captain Augustin, the woman at the pubs, Har-tha.”

  “Oh, indeed,” said Weysh, pulling a plate of sweet, non-spicy plantains to his side. “I have many Creshen friends as well. I am Creshen, for the blessing of Byen. I’m not saying to write us off entirely, but curb your expectations, en? Sometimes just when you let your guard down someone will pull something shady, like this professor. It’s disappointing, but as a society we still have a long way to go.”

  “I see. I hope—I hope my family is not like that. I have considered telling them about the rune,
but it seems wrong somehow.”

  “I think anyone with power is bound to abuse it at least a little. There have certainly been times when I’ve thrown my weight around as a dragon. You’ve just got to do your best to treat people fairly, en?” Yenni rested her hand on her fist and watched him. “What?” he asked, wondering what could be going through her head.

  “That was a more thoughtful answer than I expected.” She smiled at him. “How did you do it, Weh-sheh Nolan?”

  “Do what?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t think of anyone I disliked more than you on first meeting.”

  Weysh cleared his throat. “Ah, well, that is . . . perhaps I did come on a bit strong.”

  Yenni gave him a flat look, and a flush of embarrassment crept up the back of Weysh’s neck, which he rubbed self-consciously.

  “Fine, I was an ass. And I am sorry, truly. But it’s been half a year and I’ve already learned so much and grown so much thanks to you. You make me better, Yenni.”

  Yenni’s eyebrows raised. “I cannot make you better. I have neither the power nor the will to do so.” She poked him in the chest. “You are choosing to change. Furthermore, I am not perfect either.”

  “You are,” Weysh murmured, bringing her hand to his lips.

  She smiled. “Weh-sheh?”

  “Yes, my heart?”

  “I am glad I did not kill you that day when you flew me into the cave.”

  Weysh chuckled. Coming from Yenni that was as good as a declaration of undying love.

  “Me too, lovely, me too.”

  Isaac came around a few more times to chat with Weysh and see to their needs, and eventually Suli tore himself away from the kitchen to visit. It didn’t seem to matter to the old cook that he owned one of the most popular restaurants in the city; he said his place was in front of the stove and that would never change. He left the business end of things to his eldest daughter and her husband.

  Weysh grinned from ear to ear at the sight of the older Island man. He was light skinned with a slight paunch in his belly and a ring of close-cropped, salt-and-pepper hair that refused to grow past the middle of his skull. He’d always reminded Weysh of his grandfather. The minute Weysh saw Suli coming, he stood: nothing less than a bear hug in greeting would satisfy the old man.