Free Dragonbound: Blue Dragon by Rebecca Shelley Page A

poison you." She took a spoonful of paste herself, letting it linger on her tongue for a moment before swallowing. "No. It tastes perfect. Everyone in the village loves my poi. What's the matter with you?"
    Kanvar lowered the sword. "Sorry. I thought you were trying to kill me. You wouldn't be the first." Kanvar stared down at the glowing gold runes on the sword blade. "My own mother. Why should I expect anything different from strangers?" And yet Indumauli had said he should trust the villagers.
    "Oh." The girl huffed, flipped her long braid over her shoulder, and returned to the mat. "My name is Tana, and I'm not trying to kill you. You did save my life. I'm sorry about our disagreement over the dragonstone." She held the bowl back out to Kanvar.
    Kanvar's stomach grumbled, and he took it, not sure exactly how long it had been since he'd eaten last. The cool paste eased his burning throat, but did nothing to lessen his heated skin.
    Indumauli had said Kanvar didn't have long to live. He would need to bond soon. But to whom? He thought perhaps if he reached out with his mind he might sense his father like he'd done when trying to calm the camdor.
    But if he called his father here, he would have to face the Dragon King. And if Rajahansa did miraculously forgive him for killing the Great Green and offer to let him bond, it would be to a Gold dragon of Rajahansa's choosing. That felt wrong to Kanvar. If only Indumauli had agreed to bond with Kanvar. Or if Kanvar had spared the Great Green and convinced it to bond with him, than Kanvar might have had a chance to survive and choose his own companion.
    Tana watched him with big green eyes as he finished the last of the poi. "I could bring you something more filling if you think you could stomach it."
    Kanvar shook his head. The fever had weakened him too much.
    Tana set the bowl aside and settled onto the mat next to Kanvar. She ran a silky hand down Kanvar's stubby left arm.
    He pulled away in shock. No one touched his arm like that. Everyone kept their distance from him, as if their own arm might shrivel up like his if they got too close.
    "Oh stop," Tana scolded. "That didn't hurt and I know it." She wrapped her cool fingers around Kanvar's deformed left hand. "There, you see, I'm not attacking you, just holding your hand. Has it always been like this?"
    Kanvar swallowed. He felt uncomfortable having her so close, having her touch him, and at the same time so good. He could hardly believe anyone would dare hold his left hand and look him in the eye as if he were an equal, as if he were . . . normal.
    "Yes or no?" Tana said with a touch of impatience. "It was an easy question."
    Kanvar cleared his throat, unsure if he trusted himself to speak. "Yes," he croaked. "I was born this way. But why do you care?"
    Tana laughed and pressed her other hand against Kanvar's cheek. "You saved my life. You stood down a Great Green dragon. You're braver than any boy I've ever met. Can't we be friends?"
    Kanvar opened his mouth to say yes, but his answer was drowned out by the rush of feet running up to the hut. The village leader pushed his way in, along with four men whose bare chests rippled with muscles. The leader grabbed Tana and jerked her away from Kanvar. "Get the Naga dressed, and bring him quickly," he ordered the men, than dragged Tana out of the hut.
    Kanvar dove for his sword, but he was too slow. Two of the men grabbed him. A third snatched up his weapons, and the fourth lifted his clothes from the ground.
    Outside the hut, Tana's voice raised into an angry yell. "Let me go. What do you think you're doing with him? I told you, he saved my life."
    "Indumauli cast the sacred stones out of the river. His orders are clear. We must take the boy to the cliff now."
    "No," Tana screamed. "He only killed the Great Green to save my life. It wasn't his fault. Please."
    Kanvar made no effort to fight the men who held and dressed him. If he had to face death again, he didn't want to do it