Dragon Moon by Carole Wilkinson

Kai hadn’t found him. If he did keep his promise and concentrated on ruling well, then it would be advantageous for the whole Empire. But the meeting had also been good for Ping. The anger and hatred had left her. Such bitter feelings could poison like dirt in a wound. It was good to be rid of them. A shard of dragon stone had been returned to her as well. It had proved useful before, strengthening her second sight. It might well be useful again. The soldiers had left too. Perhaps that was also a good thing.
    The pile of baggage and the colourful tent looked out of place on the bleak plain as if they had droppedunexpectedly from the sky. There were six baskets of food, a chest of clothing, several large jars of wine, rugs, cushions and cooking pots. It was a ridiculous mound of baggage for one girl and one small dragon. Ping started unpacking. From her clothing chest, she pulled out another pair of shoes, some socks, a jacket and a pair of trousers. From the basket of cooking equipment, she retrieved a small pot, a pair of chopsticks, a cup and two bowls. From the food supplies, she took bags of grain and lentils, some dried beancurd, a jar of plum sauce, dried fruit, nuts, and powdered ginger for flavouring hot water. She also pulled out two small bearskin rugs, a water bag, her knife, the jar of red cloud herb ointment and the fire-making sticks. Kai stopped to watch her.
    “Ping isn’t waiting for the carriage?” he asked.
    “No,” Ping replied. “We’re going to go on by ourselves, just you and me.”
    “That’s good,” the dragon said.
    Ping scratched him under the chin.
    “You don’t mind?”
    He shook his head. “Just Kai and Ping.”
    Ping packed their things into a leather saddlebag. She had always intended to dismiss the soldiers before they reached their destination, but hadn’t suspected that it would be so soon. Kai looked wistfully at the things they were leaving behind.
    “Not taking any cushions?” he asked.
    Ping shook her head.
    “No backscratcher?”
    Ping laughed. “No.”
    She hoisted the saddlebag onto her shoulder. It was very heavy. She put it down again.
    “I’ll have to take something out,” she said.
    She pulled out the spare pair of shoes and a bag of jujubes.
    “Must take the jujubes!” said Kai.
    “But the bag’s too heavy,” Ping said.
    “Kai will carry the bag.”
    Ping argued that he wouldn’t be able to manage it, but he insisted. She strapped the saddlebag just behind his shoulders. It fitted surprisingly well. She repacked the shoes and jujubes.
    It was a cold morning. A strong wind whipped up dust. Ping put on her cloak and pulled up the hood. They set off. Kai’s ears drooped. He was nearly two now. He had changed a great deal in the time they had been at Beibai Palace, growing from a dragonling to the young dragon who was walking alongside her. He carried the bag without complaining and easily kept pace with her.
    “It’s good to finally start our journey,” Ping said.
    Kai made a tinkling sound. She was glad he agreed.
    The hills that had looked soft and low through the carriage window seemed steeper now that they were climbing them on foot. Ping’s leg muscles were achingbefore midday. Most of the day Kai walked at her side, but sometimes he scampered off, darting this way and that as he played some game or other. When he wandered too far away, she flashed her mirror and he came back to her side.
    “What were you playing?” she asked.
    “Looking for dragon stones,” he replied.
    Ping felt a stab of sorrow. Kai had never said so, but she guessed he’d be lonely when they reached the dragon haven. He’d had many human friends at the palace, and he’d also had dogs to chase, goats to annoy. She’d never considered that he might also yearn for the company of other young dragons. She pulled out the silk square and peered at it. Was that what they would find? Another dragon egg, perhaps a cache of dragon stones. Now that she knew about raising a baby