Free Dragon's Heart by Jane Yolen Page A

before.
    Jakkin sat down next to Akki, who passed him a plate of eggs without a word or a sending. But she smiled, flicking her long dark braid over her right shoulder as a kind of welcome. She was wearing a gold band around the bottom of the braid, and a matching gold band on her wrist. It had been a year since she'd had such things to wear, except for twists of wildflowers. Jakkin remembered the wildflowers with a sudden sweet longing. Ruefully, he smiled back at her, saying nothing.
    Akki sent a tickling, colorful sequence of rainbows into his mind.
    "I thought we said..." he whispered, and when she glared at him, he looked down at his plate.
    "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered back, though she hardly seemed sorry. The exchange was so quick and so hushed, no one else noticed.
    Jakkin took some eggs, a slice of mello, and a cup of minty tea. When Trikko passed the platter of meats along, Jakkin shook his head, almost shuddering. "Not that hungry," he said.
    "You used to be hungry all the time," Trikko said. "It must be loooooove." He drew the word out, to the delight of the rest of the table.
    But it had nothing to do with love—or hunger. Of course, Jakkin couldn't tell them the real reason. He just couldn't eat lizard meat anymore. Lizards might not send with the power of their larger brothers, the dragons, but their minds were full of whispery, shadowy, pale sendings that flitted in and out of Jakkin's mind whenever he passed one by. Eating lizard meat would be like eating a relative.
A silly, slightly addled relative.
Though Jakkin was fine with the unfertilized eggs. Or with kkrystals, the translucent insects, dipped in egg and batter. He wondered if he could teach Kkarina that one.
    After his first sip of tea, Jakkin looked up and forced a smile. "Sleep well?" He said it to the entire table, but he meant it for Akki.
    She sent him a rude bit of color, full of snags and sparkles. Like a mind belch.
    The sending made him laugh, and that was so inappropriate, he immediately covered it up with a cough, as if he were choking on the eggs.
    Looking down at the table demurely, Akki said loudly, "I don't know about anyone else, but I slept like a baby. Easier on a mattress and bed than the stone floor of a cave. And you?"
    He sent a mind belch back at her, and steadfastly refused to apologize.
    At that point, Slakk came into the dining hall and joined them, sitting at the far end of the table, which was then awash in complaints about snoring roommates, pillows that needed new feathers, slats missing in beds—the usual.
    "And you," Slakk said suggestively, pointing at Jakkin. "You came to bed awfully late last night."
    "Ooooooo!" The comment ran around the table, and suddenly everyone stared and grinned at Akki. Reddening, she set her lips together so tightly, they looked like a thin scar. Her actual embarrassment served as great camouflage.
    Jakkin swallowed quickly. He'd been out late again in the incubarn and run back to the bondhouse just before Dark-After. He hadn't seen Likkarn that time, but if Akki was right, the old man must have been couched down with an about-to-lay hen. He reminded himself to be more careful.
    Still, he had to deal with Slakk's accusation. "Stomach problems," Jakkin said, making a sour face and pointing to his belly. "Not used to all this rich food." He rubbed his palm over the offending stomach, but no one seemed convinced.
And really, how bad could it be if they think Akki and I are together at night. It would give us more chance to move about.
    Just then Kkarina came out of the kitchen and overheard him. She stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, glaring, though her face gave her away as she tried to hide a smile. Jakkin saw her and gulped.
    "Rich,
good
food," Jakkin amended loudly.
    She came over and clouted him on the head with her open hand.
    "
Nice save
." Akki sent, with a picture of a drowning man being lifted from a river by a very large red dragon. It set the man down on a