Light ran and shivered along her blue scales. When she moved her head, there was grace and danger in every ripple of muscle. Despite her size, despite the fact that she was not a creature made for the water, she edged through it soundlessly. Beautiful death-dealer, she thought, and the now-familiar sensation of the dragon’s effortless glamour washed through her. She was the loveliest creature Thymara had ever seen.

Thymara groped frantically and then angrily for her sense of self. Yes. Sintara was the most beautiful creature in the world. And the most thoughtless, selfish, and cruel! She shook herself free of the dragon’s charm, seized Tarman’s railing, and clambered over it.

The keeper boats were tethered to Tarman’s ladder. She didn’t bother with any of them. The Tarman was aground, and here the water varied from waist- to knee-deep. Just enough water to make everyone perfectly miserable, she told herself, and jumped down into it. Her feet sank more deeply into silt than she’d expected and she knew a moment’s panic. But the water was not even waist-deep, and she used the instant of fear to fuel her anger. She wasn’t going to cry or whine. Not this time. Maybe not ever again.

She looked around, saw that Sintara was still hunting, and made her purposeful way toward her. When she reached the reed bed, she pushed her way through it, not caring how she splashed or that she was most likely ruining what little hunting there was for the hungry dragon. Had Sintara ever thought about what she was ruining for Thymara? She doubted it. She doubted that Sintara had ever considered what any of her actions might mean to Thymara or any other human.

“Stop being so noisy!” the dragon hissed at her as she drew nearer.

Deliberately Thymara splashed through the water until she stood directly in front of the incensed dragon. Sintara drew her head up to her full height, looked down on the girl, and slightly opened her wings. “What is wrong with you? There is little enough hunting here, and you have chased away every fish or frog in this reed bed!”

“You are what is wrong with me! What have you done to me?”

“I? I’ve done nothing to you!”

“Then what is this? What is this change in me?” Thymara stripped off her shirt angrily and presented her back to Sintara.

“Those. Oh. They’re not finished.”

“What is not finished? Sylve said it looked like I had fingers growing in gashes inside my back!”

“Fingers!” The dragon trumpeted her amusement. “Fingers? No. Wings. Here, let me see.”

Thymara was too shocked to move. Wings. Wings. The word was suddenly nonsense. It meant nothing to her. Wings. Wings on her back. “But I’m a human,” she said stupidly. She could feel the dragon’s breath on her bared skin.