The four Elves guarding the portal’s entry watched the dragon land. Hyam found the return journey as unsettling as the first. As he stood in the meadow and waited for strength to return to his legs, Tragan opened his jaws and deposited the chest of gold at his feet.
“It is a hundred times too much,” Hyam protested again. “You could buy most of Olom with that.”
The dragon turned his back on the Elves with their bows and spears. “You have a place of safekeeping?”
“With the Ashanta bankers,” Hyam said.
“Hold it for what comes next. Who knows what our quest will require.”
Hyam felt an uncommon urge to hug the dragon, which of course was absurd. “Our quest.”
“I must determine a means for you to contact me that will not break the treaty. I have no idea how. But I will find a way.”
He was struck by a thought. “Can you help free the ghostly army?”
“I am aware of your vow to assist your new allies.” The dragon extended one wing partway, a vague salute. “It speaks well of you, bondsman.”
Hyam had started to take his leave when Tragan began a series of motions that could only be described as awkward. He ducked and weaved his head and massive frame, almost like the nervous desert eagle.
“What is it?” Hyam asked.
“The elixir you hold—most likely it will not heal your mate.”
Which the dragon had already said up in the cave. “I do not hold you accountable for my failure.” Hyam lifted the covered goblet with both hands. “I thank you for this gift, as I do for the honor of knowing your name.”
“You misunderstand me, bondsman.” The dance grew more frenetic. “The gift of tears, they are intended to heal.”
Hyam froze.
“A dragon’s life cannot be counted in your years. Our memories are shared and thus stretch farther still. But never have I heard of a mage who burned away his magical abilities. Even so, I would call this a wound.”
“But if I . . . Joelle . . .”
“There is more than enough for you both. Give her a spoonful, take another for yourself. No more, lest you do harm with the unleashed potency. Hold the remainder in safekeeping.” The dragon’s tail whipped about, sending one of the trees crashing to earth. The Elves cried in protest, but it seemed that Tragan neither noticed nor heard. “Each tear is a vital portion of my life’s energy, bondsman. I will sleep now for several months of your time. My wife will give me her place upon the egg and she will tend to me as I have for her.”
The dragon started away, saying as he departed, “Never before has there been this shift, a male guardian of the island taking his place upon the unborn. Nor has a human ever set foot in our breeding ground. Nor a dragon risked breaking the treaty by entering the human realm through dreams. Nor has one of our kind shared tears with anyone save the Ancients. Or given one of your race our true name. So many components of our primeval ways have been broken. And yet I count myself fortunate to know you, bondsman, and to call you my friend.”