Free The Wandering Dragon (Children of the Dragon Nimbus) by Irene Radford Page B

and green, then flew out the window, straight across the harbor toward the ocean. Maria watched it as it grew smaller with distance but did not dissipate in the constant movement of air over the water.
    When she could no longer see it, she looked back toward Robb and the bowl. He slumped in exhaustion across the table. Inside the bowl, the letter was gone.
    And so was the glass. Its silk protection lay neatly folded but empty beside his elbow.
    She smiled secretly, finally releasing her grip on her talisman. Here was a man she could admire as a leader. If she could find a way, she’d make him king of Amazonia, consort to one of her many female cousins, and cheerfully watch Lokeen die, eaten by his own Krakatrice.

    Lily waded across the River Dubh on a string of flat rocks that looked to be placed by the local people for just this purpose. Cool water flowed across her toes, and she wiggled them in delight. A chuckling tune came to mind rounding out the voice of the river. Skeller had sung that song . . . She had to stop thinking about Skeller. He was right. They both needed time to heal from the murder of Samlan and her deep empathic bond with her victim—a bond she couldn’t help sharing with the man she loved. They’d both endured the moment of death as if their own. But they’d lived. And they needed time apart.
    But she missed him sorely.
    The river continued its joyful path toward the River Coronnan and thus to the sea, heedless of the human suffering along its path.
    Should she take the time to wash up a bit before striding into a strange village? A quick inspection showed her hands no dirtier than usual, and she’d splashed her face with water upon rising. Bare feet were always dirty. Her boots hung from her pack, barely used. They blocked her connection to the land. Kardia Hodos, her home. A living, breathing world that nurtured humans and dragons and everything in between. One big circle of life that she couldn’t join when she wore shoes.
    (Krystaal here. Are you looking for excuses to delay?)
a female dragon whispered into the back of her mind.
    “Lily here,” she replied with proper dragon protocol. “And no I’m not looking for excuses. I just want to present myself as friendly and helpful, not ragged and desperate. These people have probably seen too many ragged and desperate people fleeing the devastation of the flood.”
    (
You are not dirty. Go.)
    An emptiness at the base of Lily’s skull where the dragon’s presence had been almost sent her toppling off the ford. Dragons were like that, intruding with unwanted wisdom one second and then completely gone within a heartbeat.
    She jumped clear of the rocks and walked a short way up the hill south of the ridge. Not a lot of flat land here, but the hills rolled gently without steep slopes—except for that ridge. Quickly she realized the village only looked abandoned from a distance. Flusterhens and goats meandered among the kitchen gardens in back of the houses. Dogs lazed on doorsteps in the sun, and cats perched here and there observing all.
    But where were the people? Children should be running and playing. Women should be hanging the laundry or shelling peas for supper. Men needed to mend some of those fences, or cut firewood in the copse toward the west.
    A flicker of movement in her left periphery that might have been a bird caught her attention. She listened closely for merry chirps. Instead, a mournful tune drifted on the wind from the other side of the hilltop.
    Lily trod slowly upward, fearful of what she knew she’d find. She’d sung that same song at Mama’s and Da’s funeral.
    To the east and south she found another copse, smaller with slighter trees, a mix of maple and alder with a scattering of oak. Not an everblue in sight. Twenty or so adults and as many children stood in a loose circle around a tiny mound of dirt. Six stones piled on top of each other formed a memorial cairn.
    Lily’s heart caught in her throat. Sadness,