Dragon and Herdsman

He gazed down at the sleeping girl, his tail lashing with frustration and concern. When they'd begun this experiment, they'd all assumed it was the Erassvas' sluggishness that was affecting the Phookas. Could it be that it was actually the other way around?

But there was nothing he could do about it right now. Whatever was going on, everyone still desperately needed their rest. Including Draycos himself.

So he would give the perimeter one final sweep, and then he would settle down to rest as best he could. Tomorrow should be soon enough to try to find out what was happening with Alison.

Sufficient unto the day, the thought whispered again through his mind, is the evil thereof.

CHAPTER 20

Jack had hit the ground exhausted, almost too tired to even care that the mercenaries hadn't attacked the camp. He was therefore not particularly surprised when he woke to find sunlight already filtering through the trees and the Phookas in the middle of their morning dance.

Stifling a groan, he worked his way up into a sitting position against a tree, glancing down into his shirt as he did so. Pure reflex; he already knew from the feel of his skin that Draycos was gone. Running the perimeter, no doubt, and Jack grimaced at the thought. No matter how much he tried to help out, the heaviest burden always seemed to fall squarely on the K'da's shoulders.

But he could only do what he could do. Taking a few deep breaths, working the kinks out of his muscles, he watched the Phookas with half an eye while he pulled a ration bar from his pack. Alison had thoughtfully included a variety of flavors, but after three days he was starting to get roundly sick of them. Still, it was better than starving.

He was halfway through his breakfast when he spotted Draycos through the trees, working his way around the dancing Phookas. A minute later, he was at Jack's side. "Good morning, Jack," the K'da said. "I trust you slept well?"

"The sleep of the dead," Jack agreed, peeling back the wrapping of another ration bar and holding it out. "How about you? You get any sleep at all?"

"I had enough," Draycos assured him. Taking the ration bar delicately between his teeth, he flipped his head sharply, and the food disappeared into his jaws. A half-dozen quick chews and it was gone. "I have been around the perimeter," he went on. "There's no scent of the mercenaries anywhere nearby."

"Unless they're sneaking up from downwind," Jack warned, blinking a little as the light westwardly breeze drifted across his eyes.

"No." Draycos was quietly positive. "It would take a much stronger wind than this to keep their scent from me."

"We'll just have to watch out for windstorms, then," Jack said. "Is it my imagination, or are you getting better at sniffing out these guys?"

"It is not your imagination," Draycos confirmed. "In fact, all my senses appear to be growing sharper."

"Good." Jack paused, eyeing the other. There'd been something in the K'da's voice just then. "It is good, isn't it?"

"I don't know," Draycos said. "There is . . . but that is certainly only a myth."

"What is?"

"It's nothing," Draycos said firmly. "I should not even have mentioned it . . ."

"Well, you did," Jack said. "And you're sure not going to back out of it now. Come on, symby, give."

Abruptly, Draycos's neck arched, his crest stiffening. "What did you call me?" he demanded.

"Uh . . ." Jack found himself pressing his back hard against his tree. What had he said? "Just . . . symby. Kind of a shorthand for symbiont. I'm sorry—shouldn't I have called you that?"

"No, not at all," Draycos said, his body relaxing again, a troubled look in his eyes. "It was just that Polphir, my last Shontine host, used to call me that. Had I ever mentioned that to you?"

"Not that I remember," Jack said, frowning now himself. "It just sort of popped into my head."

"I see," Draycos said, his tail tip making slow, thoughtful circles. "At any rate, I apologize greatly for my reaction."

"That's okay," Jack said. "My heart needed a little restart anyway. So tell me about this myth."

Draycos turned his head to look at the Phookas as they finished their dance. "There's an ancient legend that suggests that a K'da approaching death sometimes experiences heightened senses."

Jack felt his stomach tighten around his breakfast. He'd already been wondering if his body might be rejecting Draycos. "Uh-oh."

"But as I say, it is only a myth," Draycos hastened to add. "Recall that back aboard the Havenseeker I was very near death. Yet I experienced nothing like that."

"But in the last month you've taken to falling off my back straight through walls," Jack reminded him. "That's definitely not normal K'da behavior."

"Yet I also feel better than I have in years," Draycos countered. "Whatever is happening, I do not believe I am dying."

"I hope not," Jack said. "I wonder what that might mean for . . ."