“I made my own spear to get these for you,” Thymara said as she unfastened the first fish from the line threaded through its gills. “I didn’t have a spear point, but I hardened the wood in a fire, and it seemed to work very well.”

“Commendable of you,” Sintara said, waiting.

Thymara held the first one up and then asked suddenly, “What are you doing to me?”

“I’m waiting for my fish,” the dragon pointed out acerbically.

Thymara didn’t give it to her. “I’m changing faster than I ever have in my life. My skin itches with the scales. My back hurts all the time. Even my teeth feel sharper. Are you doing this to me?”

“The fish,” Sintara insisted, and Thymara tossed the first one. Sintara caught it in her jaws, tossed it up, caught it again, and gulped it down.

“You’re changing, too. You’ve grown. You’re bigger and stronger, and you’re not just blue anymore. You’re sapphire and azure and every color of blue that there is. Your tail is longer. And yesterday, I saw you shake water off your wings. They’re more beautiful than ever, with a silver web on them as if you’d embroidered them. They’ve grown, too.”

“I’d grow even faster if I were offered more food and less talk,” Sintara interjected, but she could not keep the pleasure out of her voice, despite her words. Sapphire and azure. One thing she had to say for humans, they had descriptive words. “Cobalt, cerulean, indigo,” she said as Thymara unfastened the second fish.

The girl looked up. “Yes. All of those colors, too.”

“And black. And silver, if you look carefully.”

“Yes. And there are greens on your wings when you unfold them, like a pattern of lace over the silver. I noticed that your markings have become much sharper.”

“The fish,” Sintara reminded her, and with a sigh, Thymara complied.

“Are you doing something to me, or is this just happening?” she asked after the dragon had swallowed.

Sintara wasn’t certain. She replied, “No human can be around dragons for long without experiencing some changes. Accept them.”

“And no dragon can be around humans constantly without being changed by them.” This was Mercor, strolling up to interrupt their conversation, and probably to see if any fish were left. There weren’t any, so Sintara minded slightly less that he was intruding. But then he offended her gravely by lowering his head and carefully sniffing her keeper. “Are you in pain, girl?” he asked her quietly.

“A bit.” She turned away, uncomfortable with his attention.

The gold dragon turned his gaze on Sintara. His eyes, black on black, spun accusingly. “It isn’t something you can ignore,” he warned her. “The bond goes both ways. What affects one affects all. You could cause great discontent among the keepers.”

“What does he mean?” Thymara broke in anxiously.