The Broken Knife

When he opened his eyes again, the dragon was staring at him. Its eyes were intent on his face, and there was something different about them. They still spun, but they didn’t draw him in the way they had before, and the expression in them was more thoughtful, somehow.

Kaz groaned, lifting his hand to rub at his eyes, then his nose, which was starting to hurt. The dragonling shifted aside, and as his fingers gently prodded his nose, a flickering tongue followed behind, as the hatchling looked almost apologetic. He was just glad it didn’t seem to be trying to eat him anymore.

“Phweep?” it asked, tilting its head to the side.

Kaz blinked. “Hello?”

The little golden head bobbed in excitement. It released a series of clicks and hisses that made no sense at all, but were clearly an attempt at communication. Cautiously, Kaz lifted a hand, cupping the dragon against him as he sat up. His back complained when he tried to straighten, and he reached behind him, picking up the rock-like thing he’d been lying on.

The hatchling started clicking and chirping again when it saw the object, and Kaz lifted it, finally able to examine it properly. It was hard, but not rock-hard, unless that rock was something like fluorite or malachite, which were relatively soft. He scratched it with a claw, which made a mark that blended in with the little scrapes all over it, left by tiny dragon-teeth. It was a pale brown color, and now that the fibrous strands and the sticky remnants of egg and the squishy part were gone, he could see that it was fairly smooth, oval in shape, but came to a rounded point on both ends.

None of which told him what it actually was.

He held it up, showing it to the dragonling, who was now perched on his left arm, which he had folded across his chest to provide a surface for the little beast. “Do you know what this is? Or was, since you ate most of it?”

The reptilian head tilted one way, then the other, its eyes spinning lazily as it considered the thing. He was just starting to think it might actually answer when it said, “Chirp!” and tried to bite the not-rock out of his fingers.

Snatching it back, he said, “No eating! You already ate everything you possibly could, and-” I’m not sure what would happen if you ate something that’s linked to my core, he thought, tucking the brown oval into his belt. It pressed tight against his body, and when he glanced down, he could see the delicate cord between it and him had grown slightly thicker.

Kaz sighed, looking back at the hatchling. “I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing,” he said. “I can feel that my power didn’t go back to the way that it was, so I’m worried it’s going to build up even faster, but between you and that thing, you’re almost keeping it in check. But if the link grows any stronger, I’m afraid you’ll start taking more than I have to give, and then-” He shrugged.

Distant sounds reached his sensitive ears, and he cocked his head. “How long was I out? Is it morning?” The sound of voices argued that it was, and he was just glad no one had found him unconscious, with a dragon curled up on his chest.

He looked down at the hatchling, who looked back, eyes whirling gently and head cocked to one side. “And what am I going to do with you? I should take you back up to your nest, so you can fly away like the others, but I can’t sneak away, even if there wasn’t a core-hunting monster up there. Besides, you’re so small.”

The dragon whistled indignantly, but it was true. Its egg had been the smallest in the clutch, and the hatchling was only about half the size of its next largest sibling. Kaz sighed and held the dragon snugly as he struggled to his feet. He was still tired, and his head felt strangely light, but he had to go before someone came looking for him.

Crossing to his pack, he pulled the opening wide, and held the dragonling out toward it. “You need to go back in.”

It hissed and clicked, and Kaz shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to, either, but we don’t have a choice. I don’t know what would happen if someone saw you, but I’m certain it wouldn’t be good. I promise I’ll get you some food, if you just wait quietly.”

The little dragon blinked, as if processing his words, and then it glided down his arm and into the darkness of the bag’s interior. He wasn’t sure if the enclosed space just seemed like a safe place to hide, or if it actually understood him, but it really seemed like it did, so he added, “And don’t try to eat my knives, either. You probably can’t, but just leave them alone.”

Several clicks and a soft whistle emerged from the bag. He didn’t know if that meant, “Of course I won’t,” or “I’ll do what I want,” but the voices were approaching, so he’d have to hope for the best.

Softly, Kaz whispered, “Quiet now,” and slung the pack around to his back. He glanced around, seeing a few gleaming shards of golden eggshell, as well as the stinking mess he and the hatchling had made when they threw up. He didn’t want any of whatever-that-was to get mixed into the pristine water of the Longtooth’s lake, so he splashed a few handfuls of clean water over the stone, guiding the runoff away from the rest of the water and toward the pit created for wastewater.

Two pups appeared in the cavern entrance, both carrying empty water-bladders in each hand. Upon seeing him, they froze, eyes huge, before the larger one dropped his container, stepping in front of the smaller female. His hackles rose, and he growled, baring fangs and claws. Since he was only about half Kaz’s size, it was foolish, but cute. Both pups should have run as soon as they saw a stranger in their territory.

Kaz held up his hands. “I’m the new chief’s brother, Kaz. I just woke up early and came to wash and get a drink.”

The male pup’s fur went down a little, but he glared as he said, “There’s water in the village. We take some there every morning and after lunch.”

Kaz’s tail began to wag slowly, and he tried to project innocent ignorance. “I just didn’t know where it was. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

The small pup popped her head out from behind the male, and Kaz realized she was Moru, the silver-gray female Katri had said might be his mate someday in the future. She eyed him warily, but said, “You are Kaz. I’ve never seen a blue kobold before. There aren’t any others in your tribe, either. Why are you blue?”

He shrugged, lowering his hands. “My father had blue fur as well. He came from another tribe, a long time ago.”

Moru looked away, clearly losing interest in the topic. When her eyes met his again, she stepped out from behind the male, though her hand stayed on his arm. “Our den-mother says you’re supposed to be my mate when I grow up, but I’m going to make Lem be my mate instead.”

Kaz felt a tingle of amusement, though it was mingled with sadness. It didn’t really matter what either of them wanted, if the chief wanted something different. “Is this Lem?”

Both pups nodded, and Kaz smiled. “I hope you get what you want,” he said, dipping his head in something that wasn’t quite the nod of a male to a female who was not-mate. The little silver female puffed out her chest at this sign of respect, and tugged on Lem’s arm, pulling him out of the way.

Once the pups shifted far enough to the side, Kaz made his way past them, back toward the village. As he passed the tunnel leading to the food-stores, more voices made him look in that direction.

A mature female was ushering several pups down the tunnel toward him. These were the ones who were still too small to do chores, and the female looked harried, but amused as she picked one particularly rambunctious child up by the scruff of its neck and dropped it back among the others.

“Today, we’re going to learn the difference between some of the most common liche- Oh!” Her eyes caught on Kaz, and she stopped, stepping between him and the children protectively. She stared at him before her eyes widened with recognition.

“You’re the chief’s brother!” she said, relaxing. “Are you here to get breakfast?”

He nodded. “I don’t know what I’m allowed to eat, though.”

Absently, she reached down and grabbed two pups who were attempting to scamper away while she wasn’t looking. “Just go on. Jul and Nik are getting ready to go gather. They’ll help you.” She started to go, then hesitated. “Are you really still a pup?”

He nodded. “I’m supposed to go on my spirit hunt at any time, but Oda…” He trailed off, realizing that his mother’s excuses for not allowing him to grow up didn’t matter any more. He glanced down, yielding, pup-to-adult, and she huffed a breath.

“Well, Jul and Nik are probably about the same age as you, then. They’ll know how much you can take.” With a flick of her ear, she began herding the pups away. Kaz’s stomach growled loudly, and he hurried off down the tunnel. Now that he was committed, he found that he was starving. It wasn’t as though this was the first time he’d gone a day or more without eating, since the Broken Knives sometimes found themselves without enough food to go around, but he thought he was hungrier than he’d ever been before in his life.

When he entered the cavern at the end of the tunnel he was amazed by its size, by the quantity of food packed into it, and by the fact that two guards were actually stationed there. Within his memory, his own tribe never had enough males to guard their stores, as well as the den, the gatherers, and Oda, which was why the fuergar had been able to eat so much before they were discovered. The Longtooth tribe was so much more numerous and organized that he was surprised over and over.

Once he explained who he was, and what he was doing, two older male pups helped him collect his meal, and he was astonished again. It was rare that he was able to eat until he was full, but the amount they thrust into his arms was more than he usually got in a whole day, even when he ate a bit of what he gathered, which he wasn’t supposed to do.

He wasn’t about to refuse their largess, however, even though the larger of the two, whose fur was the same shade of green as that of Mital’s mate, glared at him the entire time. Kaz just stuffed the extra into his pack for later and walked back toward the village, eating half of a baked and salted fuergar.

When he reached the huts, he realized that he had gotten turned around. He was usually good at noting the small marks and signs that helped him orient himself, but he’d been so focused on the hatchling that he’d completely failed to do so. As a result, he had no idea how to get back to the large hut where the humans had been sleeping, and though he could easily speak to other pups and the den-mother, he was hesitant to interrupt any of the adults who bustled around him. He knew they all had their own tasks, and time was always tight at the beginning of the day. If certain things weren’t started in time, they wouldn’t be finished by the evening, and that delay would trickle over into the next day, and the one after that.

Shoving the last of the meat into his mouth, he lifted his nose and sniffed. The humans each had their own distinct scent, but it was strangely muted, almost like a milder form of whatever Rega had done to cover the Broken Knives retreat from the core-hunter. In the midst of a crowd of strange kobolds, Kaz didn’t have a chance of finding those subdued smells, so instead he focused in on Katri. He was certain that she’d be near the humans, if only to make sure they left promptly.

He had to push a little more power into his nose to find it, but Katri’s so-familiar scent soon leapt into focus, and he turned this way and that, wending his way deeper into the mass of huts. At last, he came to the largest one, and quickly turned off the flow of power to his nose as Katri’s smell mingled with jejing moss and the aromas the moss was meant to cover.

Not surprisingly, Raff was no longer lying on the ground in front of the hut where the humans had slept the night before. When Kaz poked his head in their hut, he found it empty, so he crossed to the one Katri’s scent was coming from and looked in there.

And saw the book.

It lay open, splayed across a bed made of piled furs. Oda had never left it like that, not only because anyone could come in and see it, but also because the book was ancient and fragile, and each time it was opened, the binding that held it together crackled and flaked a little more. Glancing to each side, Kaz slipped into the hut, pulling the leather-stretched-over-bone door shut behind him. He crossed to the bed, crouching so he could look at the pages of the book for the first time.

And quickly realized he couldn’t read it. He recognized several of the characters, the rise and fall of the lines something he had sketched out with chalk a thousand times before, then rubbed away before anyone could see them. But there were far more that he didn’t recognize. He saw ‘he’ and ‘she’, but what ‘they’ were doing, or were meant to do, he had no idea. He gently turned the page, catching the symbols for numbers and colors, but he didn’t know what ‘she’ did with ‘five red’ somethings. He did recognize the simple cross that stood for ‘knife’, and he thought the faded ink had once been colorful, but that was all.

He could have howled in disappointment. The book was useless to him. He had thought that after learning how to read and write a few simple phrases, that would be enough. Though they used far more words to speak than he knew how to read, he somehow hadn’t realized that the few words he knew wouldn’t be enough to allow him to figure out all the other words he didn’t.

With great care, he turned back to the page Katri had left open, trying to memorize its contents as much as possible. If he ignored the fact that the symbols there were words, and saw them as pictures, instead, surely he would be able to remember and replicate them later. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could work out their meaning.

As he moved away, the door was flung open, and there was Katri, her pink fur nearly glowing as the light outside limned each strand. Her face was in shadow, but there was a strange desperation in her silver eyes as they traveled between Kaz and the book.

“Kaz!” she exclaimed, circling around him to flip the book closed, ignoring the crunching of the pages. “The humans are looking for you. They’re trying to say I haven’t fulfilled our bargain, and I think the Gaoda-female is angry.”

“Gaoda is male,” Kaz said without thinking, and Katri’s jaw dropped open.

“What? Of course she isn’t. She has power.” She pushed against his back with her hands, trying to move him out of the hut, and he let her, shifting so her hands wouldn’t crush his pack and the little dragon still hiding inside.

As he emerged into the light, he heard a shout, and hard fingers grasped his ear, twisting it. “There you are,” Gaoda said. “Your sister said she didn’t know where you were.” The male glared at Katri, who had followed Kaz outside.

Kaz had spent his whole life protecting his sister, so he said, “She didn’t. I went to wash and get some food. I’m sorry. I meant to be back before you woke.”

Gaoda huffed, but the painful pinch released, allowing Kaz to step away. He looked at the four humans, resisting the urge to rub his sore ear. Everyone looked much the same as they had the day before, though their fur, what there was of it, looked tidier, and they smelled even less. In fact, Lianhua didn’t smell like a creature at all. Instead, all Kaz’s nose could pick up were strange, sweet smells that were a little bit like some of the sweet-mosses, and a little bit like the wind that had blown into the dragon’s cave from outside, and a lot of nothing Kaz had ever smelled before.

Lianhua smiled, showing no teeth. “He’s here now, Gaoda. Let’s just go.”

Gaoda smiled back, a little too wide, and nodded. “As you wish, cousin. I, too, am more than ready.”

Kaz ducked his head. “We go down, then.”

Lianhua cheered, Raff grunted, Gaoda gave another tooth-filled smile, and Chi Yincang simply stood, silent and dark, but they all followed when Kaz led them from the Longtooth den.