Dragon and Phoenix Read Online Free Page A

then stared a moment before blurting out, “But you’re not as tall as I remember, my lord.”
    Linden laughed. “And you’re not as little as I remember. You’ll certainly not be sitting in my lap any more. Otter warned me a while ago that you’d grown. Speaking of him, isn’t your disreputable great-uncle awake yet?”
    “I kept him up last night,” Raven said with a smile.
    “No excuse for him—not today,” Linden said. “Lazy wretch. Tamiz, if Otter’s playing slugabed this fine day, tell him I said you could pour a bucket of cold water over him to rouse him. Dragonlord’s orders, in fact.”
    Tamiz laughed and went off. There was a wicked glint in her eye.
    Oh, my—she wouldn’t, would she? Maurynna turned back to find Raven staring at her.
    “So it’s true,” he said.
    “Yes.” She swallowed. Why was her mouth suddenly so dry?
    Linden said nothing, only shifted so that their shoulders lightly touched.
    “I used to tease you about your eyes, that they were a Marking because they were two different colors,” Raven said. His voice was flat and tight. “I never thought I was right.” A long silence, then, “You won’t ever come home again, will you?”
    There was pain in the words, and resentment. But what hurt most were the
unshed tears she heard. He shifted his gaze to Linden. A long look passed between them.
    “Ah,” said Linden at last. In her mind he said, I think there was more on Raven’s side than just friendship, love. You two had best talk. Take him to an out of the way corner; I’ll see that you’re not disturbed.
    Confused, Maurynna said, What do you mean, ‘more than—’
    Talk to him, Maurynna.
    And Linden left them alone. Maurynna studied Raven; it was like facing a stranger. “This way; we can talk over here.” She hoped she didn’t sound as lost and lonely as she felt.
    He followed her without speaking. She led him past the Dragonlords and visitors dining at the tables to one of the little alcoves that opened off the great hall. Cushioned benches lined the walls, a cozy place for friendly confidences. It seemed a mockery. She took a seat; Raven hesitated as if unsure whether he should sit in the presence of a Dragonlord.
    Maurynna glared at him. He sat. Not as close as he once would have, but not as far away as she had feared.
    A stiff silence hung over them for too many long, awkward moments. Then Raven asked again, “Will you ever come back?”
    Maurynna bit her lip. “They’ll have to let me go sometime—I hope.”
    Raven started in surprise. “They’re keeping you here against your will?” She shrugged. How to explain this? And should she? She knew that Dragonlords kept secrets from truehumans lest those few against the weredragons find a weakness to exploit.
    But this was Raven. She made her decision and damn anyone who disagreed. “Not quite. The Lady says it’s for my own safety. The Lady would likely also say I shouldn’t tell you, but … I—I can’t Change at will. Something … happened the first time. It was agony and it’s not supposed to be. Now Kyrissaean, my dragon half, won’t let me become a dragon. She stops me whenever I try. Did you hear what happened in Cassori a few months ago, the regency debate?”
    Raven nodded. “Yes, we got the news when the Sea Mist came home to Stormhaven. How the Dragonlords had been called in as judges, how you’d gone to trade there and that you’d become—” His voice nearly broke. A moment later he went on, “I heard it from Master Remon himself.”
    The breath caught in Maurynna’s chest at the mention of Remon, her former first mate. She wondered what he’d thought when the Cassorin ship caught up to him with its astonishing news. Never mind that; what had the poor man thought when he’d discovered she was missing from the Sea Mist? She tried to imagine how Remon had felt those months ago, when he’d walked into her cabin only to find it empty, the open window bearing silent witness to his