Rion (23 page)

Hi.

Fun.

Play.

Fly.

Up. Up. Up.

She’d braced for anger. But oh, my goodness, the babies were… happy.

The youngsters sent excited and cheerful thoughts at her. Light and jolly. Filled with joyous laughter. And with all that
happiness coming at her, she took it in, magnified it, and sent it back out to them. The emotional loop happened automatically,
without thought or effort on her part.

The baby dragons floated and dived, played tag, ran and flapped their wings. A few shoved their snouts into platinum food
and hungrily chowed down.

“This hasn’t happened before?” Rion asked.

“Sweet Goddess.” Lex grinned. “They are flying, carefree, and curious, the way the Goddess meant for them to be.”

Darian stared in wonder. “This is the first time most of them have experienced dragonshaping without pain.”

Two dragons almost crashed in midair. Rion frowned. “Too bad it’s so crowded they are a danger to themselves.”

Marisa agreed. The babies might have been giddy, but they could still get hurt. Flying into a wall or another dragon could
break bones.

Marisa went to work, toning down the happy excitement and sending calming thoughts to the entire room.
Good babies. Nice flying. But you all need to eat. Need to rest. Come on, little dragons, fly down and eat. Rest your wings.

At first, they refused to listen. But as they slowly tired, they walked, crawled, and flew toward the food that Lex and his
people held out to them.

After the dragons ate, they humanshaped. The caretakers placed the children back into their beds. Even Rion tucked one of
the babies in.

Eventually the nursery settled down. Just in time.

Pain began to pulse through Marisa. Fiery pain. Nerve-shocking pain that caused her to roar and wake a few of the children.

She, too, humanshaped. Her throat had swollen shut. Her lungs seized.
Breathe, damn it. Don’t pass out in front of everyone.

Marisa fought down the pain, willed herself to stay on her feet.

Her knees buckled.

Rion caught her in his strong arms and gathered her close to his chest. “I’ve got you.”

“Thanks.” His embrace steadied her. Gave her a moment to regroup.

He carried her to a sofa and pressed a glass of juice into her hand. “It’s laced with platinum. Drink it.”

She hesitated. “I don’t want to take someone else’s share.”

Rion lowered his voice. “Marisa, you need your strength to help us. Now drink.”

“How did you hold out against the pain?” Lex asked her, his gaze cool and assessing.

What was he talking about? “I caved—the very second it hit.” So much for courage. All her good intentions had flown out of
her mind the moment that pain struck.

Hands shaking from the residual agony, she sipped. While she could ingest platinum in human form, it wasn’t a real meal, more
like a snack. But she was grateful to replenish her energy and take a moment to collect her thoughts, pleased that the clothing
had immediately reassembled around her when she’d humanshaped.

She drank the juice, and when she looked up, she was shocked to see Lex and his people surrounding her, odd expressions she
couldn’t read on their faces.

“The babies are okay? They’re happy…” Her gaze flicked to Rion.

He didn’t seem to be listening. His eyes were hard, his face grim. “I told you not to dragonshape.”

“You brought me here to use my skills. With so many babies flying at once, it was dangerous. I had to end the chaos.”

“But you resisted the Tyrannizer,” Lex said.

“No. I only felt the pain right at the end before I humanshaped.”

“So what held off the pain?” Lex’s voice softened in wonder. “And what made the babies’ pain disappear? I’ve never seen them
happy. Normal. Not in dragon form.”

“It’s true,” one of the women caretakers added. “They were eating without pain. Flying without pain. How is this possible?”

Rion, Lex, Darian, Mendle, and the female caretakers turned curious eyes to Marisa. The women were as beautiful as the men,
tall and lean, with high, sculpted cheekbones. Even in rags, they looked regal.

Uncomfortable with the attention, Marisa shrugged. “I don’t know what happened. For me, there was no pain—at least not at
first. Later, after I calmed the babies, I felt like I was on fire.”

“Why didn’t she feel pain from the very first moment she dragonshaped?” Lex asked Rion.

“Perhaps she was so worried over the children that she didn’t notice the pain until after everyone was safe.” Rion spoke slowly.

Lex shook his head. “But the children weren’t hurting, either.”

Rion rubbed his chin. “It’s also possible that since Marisa is capable of group telepathy, her talent shields her from the
pain.”

Marisa shook her head. “I was still using my telepathy to settle the children right up to the time I humanshaped. And I felt
the pain.” She shuddered and rubbed her arms. “It was… horrible.”

Lex’s eyes filled with hope. “If we could figure out how you banished the pain, even for a short time, perhaps others could
do it, too.”

“Do you eat different foods than we do?” a woman asked.

Rion shook his head. “She’s been sharing meals with me for the last few days.”

“What about a chemical reaction?” Darian suggested. “Hair dye? Or a soap?”

She shrugged, hating to disappoint them. She had no trick to offer. “Perhaps my DNA gives me some immunity. I’m from another
world. Earth.”

Her statement drew more stares and silence. She was beginning to feel like a tourist attraction.

“She’s an offworlder?” One of the women’s voices rose in anger. “And we trusted her with our babies?”

“She helped them,” Rion said softly.

“She could betray our entire camp.” The woman’s eyes blazed with hatred. “She could be in league with the Unari.”

“The Unari are threatening my world, too,” Marisa explained. “I came here to help.”

“Or betray us,” the woman muttered and walked away in disgust.

While no one else said anything, many people now eyed her suspiciously.

Rion stood and glared down at everyone. “Marisa is a dragonshaper. She’s here to help us and has risked her life to do so.
Anyone who speaks against her speaks against me. Am I clear?”

Some of his people wouldn’t meet his eyes. A few turned and walked away.

“Easy.” Marisa placed a hand on his arm. “Let them get used to the idea. They’ve been through so much. If I were in their
shoes, I’d be wary of strangers, too.”

Rion swallowed hard. His hands clenched into fists. She sensed him fighting an internal battle.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“You promised…”

“I didn’t promise to ask you to suffer,” he growled.

She scowled at him, suddenly aware that he was no longer talking about what people thought of her. “What is it?”

“I don’t want to ask—”

“Ask what?” She felt as if she were prying a sword from a stone.

His eyes hardened, even as his lips twisted as if in pain. “If you could dragonshape once more, just for a moment, then tell
us if you felt pain, it might help us figure out how to avoid it ourselves.”

Marisa took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Before she let fear stop her, Marisa stood and dragonshaped. Her flesh turned
to scales. Her eyesight was keen. Instantly every nerve ending burned as if she’d plunged into hell.

She didn’t remain a dragon for more than a second before she humanshaped. No one had to ask if she’d been in pain.

Her nerves twitched. She’d borne it for only a moment. She couldn’t imagine hours of that unendurable pain, days of that searing
agony. She’d rather die than suffer that kind of torture.

“I’m sorry,” Lex said with sadness.

“Are you all right?” Rion asked her and slipped his arm around her.

She sagged against him, then slowly straightened. “I will be.” She fought to keep her voice steady. “It’s not my DNA that
gave me temporary immunity. I’ve failed you. I can’t withstand that kind of pain and focus enough to send a message, too.”

“No one could.” Rion cupped her chin and lifted her head until their eyes locked. “This is not your fault.”

She nodded, then leaned against Rion, soaking up his heat. Her nerve endings still tingled with residual bursts of pain. “But
unless we figure this out, I can’t send a telepathic message. I’ve come here for nothing. My talent is no good to you if I
can’t use telepathy.”

An awkward silence fell. The women and some men began to drift away.

But Rion’s eyes still burned with determination. “Look, you’ve done what no one else has done. You banished the pain for a
little while.” He tucked her against his side. “Now that we know it’s possible, you’ve given us hope.”

“If you say so.”

“We’re going to figure out what just happened and duplicate it. And then we’re going to use it to save my people.”

Slowly, her limbs stopped trembling. She prayed that they wouldn’t ask her to dragonshape again. Not tonight. She wasn’t up
for more pain.

Rion led her to a couch, where she sat. “Perhaps we’re not asking the right questions.”

“What do you mean?” Lex asked Rion and pulled up a chair. Many of the nursery workers left to care for the children. Others
wandered off to their beds. Only Lex, Darian, and Rion stayed.

Rion rubbed her shoulders and neck. “Back on Earth, Marisa was in human form when she unknowingly broadcast to adult dragonshapers
and they became agitated.” He speared her with an apologetic glance. “This time, when she broadcast again in human form, she
made the babies happy and took away their pain.”

“Let me see if I understand this.” Lex frowned. “When you communicate telepathically to the group, you send emotions along
with the message?”

She nodded. “The emotions I send are unintentional, but just like your words convey emotion by their tones, my telepathic
messages convey emotions.”

“And you’re also telepathic with dragons in human form?” Lex asked.

“Yes, but I’m a much stronger telepath after I dragonshape. When I’m human, the message is weak.”

“That’s it.” Rion’s eyes lit with excitement. “When you’re human, the message is
weaker
—but the emotions you send are
stronger!
”

Marisa caught his excitement. “And those emotions are disrupting the Tyrannizer?”

A real cousin would wash his hands in blood to keep yours clean.

—A
NONYMOUS POET

R
ion accompanied Marisa to their quarters, his hopes higher than they’d been since they’d arrived. A fire burned in him to
make sense out of what Marisa had just done. “Marisa, you told us that you don’t consciously send emotions when you send telepathic
messages.”

“That’s true.”

“But could you deliberately broadcast your emotions along with a message?” Rion asked, his pulse pounding.

She rubbed her temple. “I don’t know. The only time I ever used telepathy in human form was with my brother. And he’s been
gone for most of the last decade. I’m out of practice.” She sighed. “But I’m still not certain your theory’s correct. I was
happy while helping the baby dragons, but at the end—my emotions didn’t stop the pain.”

“Maybe you were in dragonshape for so long, the human emotions that protected you faded. And that’s when the pain hit.”

“Maybe. That would also explain why I had no protection at all the second time I morphed.” She sighed. “But even if I could
do it again, adults interpret the happiness and joy that come from my passion differently than the babies. Babies eat and
play and fly. Adults fight.”

Rion had always believed Marisa was special. But who would have thought that sending her human emotions down her telepathic
link was the key to preventing the Tyrannizer’s pain?

Her talent was awesome. Of course, right now they still had only a theory. One he needed to test.

Rion climbed into bed next to Marisa in their room in Winhaven, but she remained silent. Stiff. Still.

Her breathing told him she wasn’t asleep. Her effect on the dragon children obviously had her mind spinning. By now he knew
her well enough to know she didn’t always see things the same way he did.

He kept his voice low and easy. “What’s wrong?”

She spoke slowly, her tone earnest. “In human form, I’ve affected the dragons twice, both times while we made love. When my
mind wasn’t on anything but you.”

So she was way ahead of him. “Maybe that’s the key.”

“Huh?” She rolled onto her side and rested her cheek in her hand. In the moonlight that beamed through the window, he could
just make out her features. Eyes wide, she wasn’t smiling.

“Maybe extreme feelings wrap you in some kind of protective bubble.”

She sighed. “I suppose that makes sense. But that doesn’t explain why I didn’t feel any pain after I first dragonshaped but
then it hit me later.”

“Perhaps there’s a brief after-sex effect.”

“An afterglow?” Her mouth twisted. “I hardly think we are the only people on the planet having sex.”