“You are, for now. But when you have finished changing, you’ll be an Elderling. With wings. The first one ever, if my recollections are correct. They are still not mature, but…can you move them? Have you tried to move them at all?”

“Move them? I didn’t even know I had them!” She had cried herself out earlier; shed every tear she had over her sorrow at her disfigurement. What had it meant to her earlier this afternoon? That she was a freak and a monster. That she would never dare bare her body to any man; no, not before any person at all. Fingers growing on her back. But they weren’t fingers. They were wings. And the stupid dragon who had caused them to grow there without even asking her was now wondering if she could move them.

Tears threatened again, and she couldn’t say what kind they were. Fear? Anger? Her heart was leaping against her ribs.

“Try to move them,” Sintara insisted, and her voice was full not of concern but only curiosity. Thymara felt a puff of breath against her bare back and shivered, and suddenly felt the twitch of something on her back.

“What is that?” she cried, hunching away from her own body. But now it hurt, as if she had wrenched her back or sprained a finger joint. Something connected to her spine was cramped, jammed, and painful. She writhed, and with horror felt a trickle of warm fluid run down her back, and then a damp weight hung limply against her back.

“What is it?” she cried out. She dared not and yet she must. She reached over her shoulder and touched something that felt like sticks bundled in wet cloth. “NO!” she cried, and as her body jerked with shock, she felt the other wing break free of its concealment. “No!” she said more faintly. She started to cover her face with her hands and found herself staring at a coating of thin blood on her fingers. She shuddered. That was a mistake. The things on her back twitched and shook. They were part of her. Foreign and monstrous and part of her. She could feel the summer air on them, feel Sintara’s snort of amusement as she said, “Well. I’d expected better than that.”

“I didn’t expect them at all!” Thymara shouted at her. “How can you do this to me? Why would you do this to me?”

“I didn’t intend to!” the dragon admitted. For that moment, she sounded almost flustered. Then anger won as she said, “You did it to yourself, if you must know. You were careless. When you pulled the rasp snakes from me, my blood spattered on you. Some must have gone in your mouth. From that time on, I felt you more intensely. You must have felt that our shared awareness grew! How could you not?”