Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [33]
“He bonded with one of the Amber Palace servants. She found the egg in an old shed and kept it. Her name was Bretta.”
“Was?”
“She died of old age.”
“How old is he?”
“Twelve days.”
“Oh, then he didn’t live with her for long.”
“I don’t know for sure, but I think his frailty can be linked to bonding with Bretta when she was so near the end of her life and the sorrow of losing his person.”
“What are you going to do with him?”
“Try to find him a new home.” Paladin looked up from the small creature and caught Tipper’s eye.
She recognized the sparkle for what it was. “Me?”
“You miss Junkit and Zabeth, don’t you?”
“And Hue and Grandur.” She touched the small body resting in Paladin’s large palm. “My mother needs Junkit and Zabeth.”
Paladin nodded but didn’t interrupt.
“And now that my father is … back—I guess that’s the best way to say it—and whole again, I can’t get over worrying that everything will come undone. So I want Grandur there to help with his health. And Hue cheers Papa up.”
“But you need someone too.”
Her eyes darted to his face. How did he know? She had lost her place as the stoic daughter who kept things in order under trying circumstances. Her relationship with Beccaroon had shifted into something she couldn’t identify anymore. She couldn’t say he was her guardian, and he wasn’t exactly a friend.
She shrugged. “I’m all right.”
Paladin grinned. “You’re more than all right. But that doesn’t make your situation any less lonely. Would you hold my young friend for a minute?”
At her nod, he gently transferred the glowing dragon into her cupped hands.
The dragon stretched and rubbed his sides on her skin. He put his chin against her pulse and settled down. The glow of his scales dimmed until he looked a pale blue in the moonlight.
Tipper whispered. “He’s so tiny.”
“How does he feel in your hand?”
“Warm. Soft.”
“And how do you feel?”
She held her breath for a moment and concentrated. Then she looked at Paladin. “It’s going to work, isn’t it? He’s going to bond with me.”
“I thought so, but one can’t be presumptuous with a dragon.” Paladin put his arm around her back, and she leaned against him. He rested his chin against her head.
“What’s his name?” She gave a hiccup of surprise. “Oh! His name is Rayn.”
Paladin leaned back and laughed. “Now we know for sure that this is going to work.”
Tipper cuddled Rayn under her chin. When she lowered him to kiss the top of his head, she saw that he had again changed colors. Now he was green.
“Green?” She looked at Paladin. “Is he offering to heal me? I’m not hurt.”
Paladin shrugged. “I think you’ve got the cause and effect switched. He turned green because he was healing you, not because he recognized you needed healing.”
“But I don’t. I’m perfectly fit.”
He squeezed her shoulders, pulling her closer and laying his forehead against hers. “Sometimes healing doesn’t involve the physical. Your heart is bruised.”
Tipper pulled away. “It’s not. I’m fine.”
Paladin stood. “I’ll walk you to your tent.”
She stared up at him for a moment, then rose to her feet. She chortled. “I was about to protest that I’m not tired. But I really am. And now I’m relaxed enough to sleep.” She gazed down the path to the village. “Jayrus?”
“Yes?”
“Do you like being the paladin?”
He nodded and took her free hand to nestle between his larger, stronger hands. A thrill skipped down her spine. Her toes curled inside her slippers. She forced herself to breathe evenly, hoping to calm her erratic heartbeat. With trepidation, she allowed herself to gaze into his eyes. Would he see how much she cared for him? Would he mistake it for the same type of adoration the young kimens showered on him?
“Yes, I like it very much.” Jayrus wore a smile of satisfaction on his lips.
Her mind had wandered, and confusion covered her reasoning. Like it? Like her? Her throat closed around the question, causing a squeak. “It?”
He grinned. “Being the paladin. Yes, I like being the paladin very much.”
“Why?”
He slid his fingers between hers and