Shadow Scale: A Companion to Seraphina(105)

“What were you reading?” I asked.

Abdo shrugged his narrow shoulders and shoved the last of the plum into his mouth. An old book on meditation. Understanding Emptiness, by Mollox. Haven’t opened it in years. Something Pende said got me thinking. I don’t know. I don’t want to get your hopes up.

“Making your mind water,” I said, remembering. “What does that mean?”

He shrugged again and spit the plum pit into his hand. So you’re leaving?

I sighed. “Forgive me if I can’t tell you much.”

No, I understand. It’s just … He began blinking rapidly, and then I found that my eyes, too, were stinging. Abdo wrapped his skinny arms around my middle. His head came up to my breastbone; I bent down and kissed his hair knots.

“I’m going to find a way to help you all against Jannoula,” I said quietly.

He let me go and grinned impishly. Not if I find it first.

It felt like a thousand years since I’d seen his smile. That pure, shining distillate of happiness cut me to the heart.



My clothes didn’t fit in my bag. I left my Porphyrian acquisitions with Naia, to send to Goredd, and changed back into a doublet and riding breeches. They were too warm for a Porphyrian afternoon, but I’d heard it was cold in the sky.

Abdo’s family descended at dinnertime; I received seventy-two goodbye kisses. My cheeks and eyes were shining as I climbed the hill to Metasaari.

The dragon neighborhood buzzed with activity. The exiles had spent the week preparing and were ready for imminent departure. The Assembly, as promised, had supplied them, but perishable goods had been put off until the last moment. The roads were clogged with carts.

Humans arrived, too, the accumulated neighbors, co-workers, and friends of many years bearing barley bread, blankets, and tokens of memory and appreciation. Humans and saarantrai kissed each other’s cheeks and promised to stay in touch.

I sighed wistfully. Would we ever see the day in Goredd?

As the sun dropped below the horizon, saarantrai began moving to the open space of Metasaari’s public garden, transforming a few at a time until half a dozen magnificent dragons shaded the square, wings splayed to speed drying. The plaza could not easily hold more than that; transforming two hundred was going to take hours. Saarantrai secured bundles of supplies for these dragons to carry in their claws. The dragons’ erstwhile neighbors lingered in the shadows, gaping at the display of horns and fangs.

The first of the dragons took off, massive wings laboring, blasting us with a hot sulfuric wind. He launched himself toward the ocean, the ground falling away from him, the air currents rising to catch him. We held our breath, awed; the Porphyrians began to applaud and cheer.

Comonot appeared out of nowhere and clapped me on the back. “Have you ever flown, Seraphina?”

“Only in maternal memories,” I said.

“Ardmagar!” screamed a voice from across the square. Eskar, lean and fangy in her natural shape, arched her neck, and screeched again, “I wish to carry Seraphina!”

“Your carriage awaits, maidy,” said the Ardmagar, taking my bag and shouldering it. “I’ll make sure this comes with us.” Behind him, another dragon took off.

I ran across the square, choking on the sulfurous stench as more saarantrai transformed. There were five in the sky now, dark against the deepening orange of evening, like a flock of bats. Eskar reared on her hind legs as I approached. My heart hammered in terror as she held out her forefeet, opening and closing her talons. I realized that she intended to grip me around the middle. I glanced regretfully at her spiky spine, wishing she were more horse-like in her anatomy, but I stepped forward nonetheless and let her grab me.

Her talons felt steely sharp even through the layers I’d worn in anticipation of the cold sky. I could already tell which of my ribs and axial joints would chafe. Eskar had to sprint a short distance to take off from the ground. My teeth rattled in my head as she ran, but then, with a last jarring jolt, our motion smoothed. I blinked at the retreating ground.

Fascination won out over fear; I kept my eyes open. Perhaps the diminishing city, its rooftops gently lit by the rising moon, seemed so unreal that my mind did not believe my eyes.

No, it did seem real. It felt like an enormous weight falling away from me. My eyes watered in the freezing wind.

Eskar circled toward the Sisters. I glimpsed the ancient fortress wall off which Camba had hurled glassware so long ago. From this height, the double mountain clearly stood apart from the coastal ranges. The river Omiga ran straight at its back and split in two around it. I glimpsed the terrifying falls of the western fork as we wheeled around, but Eskar followed the eastern fork up its palisaded gorge and over a series of smaller cataracts called the Stairs.

All around us other dragons flew, flapping shadows blowing brimstone wind.

We passed the curtain of the coastal ranges into the long, broad valley of the Omiga River. By the fork of the river squatted a town, Anaporphi, where the Porphyrians held their quarterly games. Its tracks and arenas were just visible in the moonlight.

We flew up the valley until midnight or so, and then landed beside a lonely stretch of river. The dragons, arriving a few at a time over several hours, shrank into their saarantrai and set up camp. We squeezed in together, five to a tent; some saar had calculated this to be the most efficient tenting ratio. Between the unaccustomed closeness, the snoring, and the aches Eskar’s claws had given me, I didn’t fall asleep until almost dawn. Saar Lalo shook me awake an hour later so they could dismantle the tent.