Elvenbane (18 page)

She was overcome with sudden terror.

She tried to scream, and couldn’t. Her vision filled with little sparkles, and began to go gray at the edges.
:Keman! I can’t breathe
!: she called desperately.
:Keman, help
!:

As the gray began to fill her vision, and her chest tightened to the bursting point, there was a blue-and-green blur of motion, followed by a flash of light and a scream—

And she was flung convulsively away, flying across the floor of the little wash—she ducked her head down and tried to make herself into a little ball,
certain
she was going to break her neck when she landed. Fortunately, she landed right on top of Myre. The smaller dragon took her impact with a surprised
oof
! and fell over with Shana sprawled on top of her, tangled up in her wings.

Shana shook her head quickly to clear it; felt Myre gasping for breath beneath her and saw that the dragonet’s head was weaving as if she were dazed. She saw Keman standing over a prone Rovylern, who was shuddering convulsively—and looked up at sudden shadows. The sky was darkening with dragon-wings. Adult dragon-wings.

She decided that the best thing she could do would be to hide, and scrambled off into the rocks to cower between two of the biggest and watch.

None of the adults except Foster Mother would pay any attention to anything she said. In fact, she had the feeling that her presence in this would only get Keman in further trouble.

She hunched her head down between her aching shoulders in shame at deserting her foster brother as the adults surrounded the dragonets, rounding on Keman as the chief villain. There was no doubt in Shana’s mind what had happened; unable to fight back against the bigger dragonet, Keman had “cheated.” He’d arced across his own wingtips and caught Rovy with the shock. A full-fledged shock, not the little spark the dragonets sparred with.

If Rovy had been older, he’d have been able to handle the charge; but he hadn’t learned his lessons half as well as Keman, and he’d been knocked senseless.

And serves him right, too
, Shana thought rebelliously.

Rovy’s mother was out for blood, and one of the first to descend; Alara, one of the last.

Shana stayed in hiding, and hoped for the best.

Alara remained silent as Rovylern’s mother, Lori, gathered up her stunned child and made certain he was going to recover. But she interposed herself as Lori raised her claw to strike at Keman.

“Stop it, Lori,” she said quietly. “If Keman needs punishment, it’s my place to mete it out, not yours. Let’s hear what the boy has to say.”

“Has to say? Your precious little brat
shocked
my child!” Lori shrieked. “He could have—”

“Rovylern is a braggart and a bully, Lori,” said one of the others—Orieana’s father Laranel, whose own child had been abused more than once by Rovylern.
He
didn’t look in the least sympathetic, and Alara knew she had at least one backer in this. Possibly more; a quick look around showed her that of the six adults present, three had children and presumably knew all about Rovylern.

Laranel shoved Lori aside and crouched down to bring his head level with Keman’s, allowing Alara a moment to collect her other sniveling, winded child. “All right, son,” Laranel said to Keman, who looked frightened but still defiant. “What exactly happened here?”

“Myre and me were”—he glanced over at his mother, and his crest flattened—”we were fighting, I guess. I, uh—we were fighting. I guess that was kind of my fault, ‘cause I didn’t want to play with her. Then Rovy stuck his snout in and he—and he—”

“He what, son?”

Keman’s ears and crest were entirely flat. “He—uh—took something of mine. I tried to get it back. He tried to—uh—break it.”

Alara heard the hesitation in her normally honest and straightforward son’s voice, noted the absence of Shana and came to a quick conclusion.

Rovy bullied Keman over Shana, and probably hurt her. But if Keman brought
Shana
up, he wouldn’t get any sympathy at all—

She held her breath, hoping Keman had the sense to realize this.

“That’s no excuse to shock someone, Keman,” Laranel said sternly. “Even if he
is
bigger than you are. You could have hurt him badly.”

“Oh, leave the boy alone.” Iridirina’s high, clear voice sang across the tiny wash, in tones heavy with disgust. “Unless I miss my guess, this was just the last straw. He’d had his gut full of being bullied, and he wasn’t going to put up with it any more. Am I right, child?”

Keman nodded, his head hunched down between his shoulders.

“Well, if you ask me, Lori—” Iridirina said.

“I didn’t!” snapped the infuriated mother.

In continued, blithely ignoring her. “I think that
brat
of yours has had this coming for a long time. I hope it’ll teach him a lesson, but I doubt it will. All the same—Keman, you did a very bad thing, you know that, don’t you? You don’t shock anyone but an enemy. You
never
shock one of the Kin.”

“Yes ma’am,” Keman muttered sullenly.

“Alara, I think you ought to punish your boy,” Laranel said. “You really ought.”

She sighed; it wasn’t fair, but if she were going to keep the peace… “Keman, go straight home and go to bed. No more playing, and no supper. No story at sunset, and an extra lesson tomorrow. And you will have to make Myre’s kill for her.” She looked from her erring child to the rest. “Is everyone satisfied?”

“No!” snapped Lori, but the rest nodded.

“Lori, you’re outvoted,” Laranel said firmly. “And if that boy of yours were mine, he’d be going without
his
dinner as well.”

Myre huddled at her mother’s side, whimpering and sniveling, but saying not so much as a word. “Come on, Keman,” Alara said, pushing Myre ahead of her and gesturing that Keman should follow with a sweep of her wingtip.

:But Mother—:

:No buts
,: she told him.
-:There’s no excuse for shocking one of the Kin
.:

He followed, head down, tail dragging, as she led the way on foot back to their lair.

I’m sorry child
, she said to herself with a sigh.
I know it isn’t fair. But that doesn’t make it less a fact. Be grateful you learned your lesson this way. It could have been worse
.

Shana watched the dragons taking to the air again with a feeling of profound relief. It didn’t look like Keman was going to be punished that badly—and things could have been much, much worse if the others had found out what the fight had actually been about.

She put her back to the boulder and slid down it, resting her head on her folded arms, and her arms on her knees. I
have got to learn how to protect myself
, she decided. I—

“
You
!” spat an angry young voice. Shana spun around, to see that Myre had returned. She quickly scrambled to the top of a pile of boulders, putting herself out of reach of Myre’s claws.

“What do you want?” she asked angrily, feeling a bit more secure in her new perch. “You already got Keman in trouble. Isn’t that enough for you?”

Myre narrowed her eyes and licked her thin lips. “I just want you to know something, rat,” she said nastily. “I don’t know what Keman told you, but do you know
why
he didn’t say anything about you to the others? It’s because you’re just an animal, rat. You’re just a filthy little defective animal, you’re not worth fighting over. You’re
not
worth even one scale off one of the Kin. And Keman knows that. He knows he’d have gotten into even bigger trouble if they knew the fight was over
you
.”

“That’s not true!” Shana shouted furiously—

But Myre only laughed, secure in the knowledge that she’d scored a hit, and turned and flew clumsily off.

MYRE HATES ME
. Shana shivered, thinking about the angry, reddish glare that had been at the back of Myre’s eyes. Myre really hated her. The dragon-et was so stupid Shana wouldn’t care, but Myre had Rovy to help her, and that was scary. She slid down the boulder and curled up in a little patch of shelter and shade between it and another jagged chunk of rock that was even larger.

Myre was too stupid to think up anything for herself, even a lie, so that “animal” stuff must have been something she got from Rovy. Shana rubbed her eyes and the back of her bruised neck, seething with anger. Right now she’d have given anything to get back at both of them. Rovy hated her too, but that was mostly because Shana was a way he could get at Keman.
He d hate anything Keman liked
.

But there was more to it than that. The expression on Rovy’s face; that had told her he’d loved every minute of pain she’d felt.
He really wanted to hurt me bad. And now that Keman hurt him to protect me, he’ll try to take it out on me
.

She couldn’t hide from him forever.
I’ve
got
to figure out how to protect myself
.

She pondered the problem, and decided that the best way to keep herself safe would be to learn how to change back into one of the Kin. Once she was in draconic form, she’d have the protection of all the adults in the Lair. They didn’t care a seed for an orphaned “animal,” but an orphan of the Kin was entitled to the protection of every adult of the Kin.

And if they didn’t protect Shana from Rovy once she was obviously Kin, they’d be in trouble with every other Lair.
That’ll work
.

She shoved herself away from the rock and stood up, brushing the red dust and sand off her legs and arms. She kept herself sheltered behind the rocks, and peeked around the edge of the boulders to make sure that Myre wasn’t lurking somewhere, the back of her neck prickling with nervousness, before she moved cautiously out into the open.

There was no sign of the young dragonet out in the wash, nor even at the entrance to it, but Shana was taking no chances. She turned around and trotted a little farther down towards the back of the wash, until she reached the dead end. A spill of gravel pouring down the steep hillside at the rear gave her a climbable, if slippery, ramp up to the narrow ledge that ran around the side of the cliff.

It wasn’t an easy climb. For every two steps she made, she slipped back one, as the loose gravel slid out from under her feet. Shana was out of breath by the time she made the ledge itself; hot and sweaty, and covered with dirt, with both elbows skinned and her knee bleeding again, she sat down on the ledge to rest for a moment before getting on.

She took slow, deep breaths, as her foster mother had taught her, and stared out over the wash. The ground was still torn up where Rovy and Keman had tussled; with no rain due it would probably look that way until fall. She just didn’t understand what was wrong with Rovy. Why did he want to hurt people? Why did he always have to be the biggest and have the best of everything? He was already stronger than anyone else in his group. His mother gave him anything he wanted. So why did he have to bully the rest of the young?

She wiped her wrist across her forehead, and stared at the smear of mud on her hand; licked the sweat off her upper lip. It tasted salty and gritty. She thought wistfully that if she had been that big and strong, no one would want to hurt her. Maybe they’d even want to be her friend. They’d let her play in their games, and she’d get them to let Keman in, too. Rovy could have anything he wanted if he didn’t keep trying to take it.

She had finally caught her breath, so she got to her feet, and tried to ignore how her elbows stung and her knee ached. She squinted at the bright blue sky, making a guess about the time. She couldn’t see the sun, here against the cliff-face, but by the shadows it was probably late afternoon. There should be plenty of time to get to her favorite hiding place and master the shift before supper. And even if there wasn’t, well, she had some roots she’d put away in her sleeping-place, in case Foster Mother either forgot to save her something, or felt she should share Keman’s punishment. This wasn’t the first time she and Keman had been sent to bed supperless, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

Poor Keman. He doesn’t even have a bone to chew on
. She sighed, and wished she was bigger, there was no way she’d be able to carry in something big enough to feed Keman, even if she knew how to kill it.

Then she brightened, and began edging her way along the ledge. Once she learned how to change, she could go make a kill, and she
would
be big enough to take it to Keman. Something like a two-horn, maybe, or a grassrunner. Those wouldn’t be too big to carry, if she was Keman’s size. If she could sneak it in through the back way, Foster Mother would never know she’d done it. She’d just have to learn how to shift, that was all. If Rovy could do it, it couldn’t be that hard.

Shana had never even taken Keman to her favorite hiding place; she’d found it when she was just old enough to be climbing around in the hills by herself, and had literally fallen into it. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to share it, but one problem with showing it to her foster brother was that Keman probably would not have been able to fit through the narrow entrance. Another was that if Keman
did
fit through the entrance, it would be a very tight squeeze to have both of them inside at the same time.

It was another cul-de-sac, but this time halfway up one of the hills. From above, it looked like a very narrow chimney-crack, but the crack itself got wider just beneath the entrance, and was quite large enough for Shana to move about in it at the bottom. Since it faced westward, there was sunlight shining down into it for most of the day. Enough rain and dew collected that short, springy grass grew in the bottom, and there were even a few small animals making their homes there. Swallows nested on the walls, and Shana had seen at least one family of ground squirrels, one of rabbits, and any number of lizards.

It was her own secret, and the only place she felt secure even from the dragonets. They
couldn’t
come in here, no matter what, even if they’d known where it was. It made a good place to go when Keman was busy and Foster Mother elsewhere, leaving her without protection.

She had begun building her own little cache of jewels here; a handful of gems that Keman had given her, augmented with things she had found in deserted lairs, and the odd agate she found, water-polished, in the beds of streams. She kept them in a dragon-skin pouch at the back of the crack, out of the reach of what little weather penetrated to the bottom.

She had high hopes for that little treasure trove.

She counted the stones over in her mind as she climbed up to the base of the crack, sun hot on her back, her shadow crawling up like a spindly twin. The others used jewels to help them change, sometimes. Keman said that jewels helped to focus power.

She scrambled over a boulder embedded in the hillside to reach the entrance to her hideaway. That was how she had found it in the first place; she’d fallen off the boulder and rolled into the entrance. Then she’d gotten curious, seeing the sun shining on something green in the depths, and had gone all the way inside. The crack in the hillside was barely visible from below, because of a fluke of structure it looked as if the entrance to the crack was simply part of the hillside jutting out, casting shadows on the hill behind it.

But the crevice was very real, and quite deep, and Shana slipped into it sideways, trusting to the boulder to shield her movements from eyes below.

Once she was a few steps past the opening, the crack widened considerably. A few more steps, and she could spread her arms and only touch the walls with her fingertips.

Light poured down through the crack above and behind her, illuminating a thin strip of rock along the back wall and falling on the carpet of grass at the bottom. There was always dust in the air, and the sun blazed through in a thick beam, like pale honey, full of dancing motes, shining through each grass-blade with such intensity that against the dark walls they glowed like tiny spears of emerald. Shana seated herself on the soft grass, full in the sun, and took her little bag of gemstones from a depression she had scooped out at the back of the crevice. The bag had been made from Keman’s skin, and she hoped that was a good omen.

His scales sparkled in the sunlight like tiny gems themselves, emeralds and sapphires, each brushed with a dusting of gold. Her tunic was too dust-covered to sparkle, but when it was clean, the larger scales looked less like jewels and more like enameled metal plates, very similar to some of the elven-work Shana had seen.

She poured her jewels into the palm of her hand, focused her eyes on them, and concentrated on what Keman had told her.
First, I find the center, the place where all the power comes from. Foster Mother said that’s where you balance, too, and I know where that is
…

She stared at the pool of light and color in her hand, and tried to find that elusive balance-point. The gems glowed at her, each one seeming to be alive, and she finally closed her eyes and “looked” for that same glow inside herself.

I
…
think this is it
…

There was a place, just about at her navel, that seemed to pulse with the same, living glow she imagined in the stones. She thought very hard about that place, “squeezing,” as Keman had told her, and was rewarded with a definite strengthening in the “glow.” It was becoming very hard to think, or rather, to form thoughts into words. Was that good, or bad?

She squeezed harder. Now she felt the power elsewhere, running through her with little tingles; it seemed to be coming from the pile of sun-warmed gems cupped in her palm. Feeling hopeful now, she encouraged the flow, and it did, indeed, increase.

She gave up on trying to put her thoughts into words; doing so felt like trying to swim through mud. Instead she concentrated with pictures and feelings. Now she began picturing herself as she should be; a tall, strong dragonet, as tall as Rovylern, but much more supple, with scales of purple and blue, like the amethysts and lapis she held in her hand.

She saw herself, deep in her mind’s eye; saw the way her wings would lift to the sky, the whipping cord of her tail. She built up every detail, down to the smallest scale, and all the while she kept up the pressure on her power-center, until she felt as if she were about to explode from tension.

Then she released it all, in a burst of power that left her inner eyes dazzled for a moment. She opened her
real
eyes, fully confident that she would find her gems cupped in a purple-scaled claw.

Only to find them still held in a very human hand.

Sunset filled the crevice with scarlet light, as if Shana sat in the heart of a great ruby. The light poured in from behind her, illuminating the entire rear of the crack, and her shadow stood etched blackly into the red-glowing rocks. It was beautiful, but Shana had no eye for beauty just now. She was exhausted; her arms quivered with strain, and all she wanted to do was lie down and rest. Sweat dripped down her forehead, beaded on her upper lip, and ran down the back of her neck.

She had been trying for hours to work the change from human to dragon with no more result than when she’d tried it the first time. The power was
there
, she could feel it every time she started. She was doing everything right.

And yet nothing whatsoever happened when she released the power.

She stared at the hand that clutched her gem cache, the knuckles white, the hand quivering, and suddenly knew that no matter how hard she tried, she was
never
going to be able to shift. It wasn’t a matter of being too young, nor of not having the power. She
had the
power, and she had been able to speak mind-to-mind long before the others of her age could. She had everything she needed—or rather, almost everything.

Because Myre and the others were right. She
was
an animal.

All the taunts that Myre and Rovy had thrown at her came back to her with the clarity of the hatred that had spawned them.

Myre: “
Alara picked you up as a pet for Keman. Mother found your two-legger mother dying, and took you because she felt sorry for you
.”

Rovy: “
Alara’s brought Keman lots of pets. The only difference between you and them is that you won’t admit you’re a pet
!”

Myre: “
Beast. Two-legger! Animal! You’re nothing but a rat, a great big rat
!”

“Rat! Rat! Rat!”

The taunts rang in her mind, and Shana flung the jewels away from her with a cry, hurling them at the stone of the crevice. They pattered against the stone like hard little raindrops. She scarcely heard them.

She was too lost in her own blackly bitter thoughts; the things she was only now piecing together.

Foster Mother would never tell her about her
real
mother. Alara only said she “knew” her, and that Shana’s mother had died in the desert. Then she’d change the subject when Shana asked what her mother looked like, what kind of a person she was. Alara wouldn’t look at her, either. Foster Mother had acted as if she were hiding something.

Myre had been full of details, though—details Shana had always dismissed as false, until now.

The rest of the Kin treat me like I was some kind of animal, too
. Keman said that was because Shana was stuck in this two-legger shape, but if it was her
real
shape—

—
then I am an animal to them
.

She could think of countless times when the adults had talked to Keman about her as if she weren’t there, or couldn’t understand them, and when they had something to tell her to do, they used the same kind of voice on her that Keman used on his loupers.

Alara had never treated her that way—nor Father

Dragon. But they were the only ones among the Kin who didn’t. Shana had always thought that was going to change once
she
could. After all, it was easy to think of her as an animal while she wore an animal’s form.