residence. But this other matter has him too distracted.
“This is all a setup, right?” he asks the girl, one last chance at a rational explanation. “You know, for the vid?” If she’s not an actress, if she’s making this up as she goes along, just like he is—and her look of innocent bewilderment is almost enough to convince him she is—then what are these critters?
If not a vid-tech special effect, then . . . what?
To stave off the upswelling panic, he resorts to an exercise of logic. Either they’re real, these critters, or they’re not. Fine. If they’re not real, he’s seeing things. If he’s seeing things, he’s either sick or crazy. Or—he remembers the tomato—he’s been drugged.
But he doesn’t think he’s crazy, and he doesn’t feel drugged, at least not the usual way. And except for the growing heat in his arm, he feels healthy enough. He’d managed not to drink any of the sea water drenching him, and he’d spotted both critters within moments of being cut. No bug goes to work
that
quick. Anyhow, the brothers saw them, too. That’s what saved his life.
Which means they’re real, the conclusion he’d already reached and explained away with invented technology. But if they’re real and
not
cybercritters, then what the hell are they?
This time the panic will not be kept down. Rising up with it comes a notion that defies all his attempts at logic. N’Doch tries to ignore it, but he knows where it comes from. It’s the same part of him he goes to when he writes his music, where the answers have nothing to do with logic, they just appear out of his soul like magic.
Appear like magic
. That was it. That was the notion he was trying to avoid.
Magic
.
N’Doch meets the great golden gaze of the larger critter and gives in. His knees buckle.
* * *
Erde saw the fear rush into his eyes just before he collapsed. It was like watching black water flood a ditch. Earth’s sudden arrival must have frightened him. The dragon was big, after all, though not nearly as big as she’d thought a dragon should be. And he could look terrifying if you didn’t know him. But why was Endoch scared now, when he hadn’t been before, back on the beach? Must be he was better at covering it up than she was.
Then she noticed there was blood on the floor where he’d fallen, and recalled the vicious swipe the man with the club had delivered. She relayed the reminder to Earth, but it was Water who went to him, lowering her sleek head to nose at him, crooning gently. Endoch yelped and scrambled backward on ankles and elbows as if terrified. Erde thought Water was the least sort of dragon to be frightened of, but Endoch’s terror rang in the air like a hammered bell. Erde found herself gripping Earth’s neck crest in sympathy. She could sense the dragon’s bemused surprise.
—
He is frightened. He does not know what she is
.
Erde nodded, remembering.
—
I didn’t know who you were either, when I first saw you. I thought you were going to eat me
.
A graver negative than usual washed across her mind.
—
What, not who. He does not know what a dragon is
.
This, Erde could not imagine.
—
You mean, he doesn’t believe in dragons?
She’d met people like that, though they were rare. They usually didn’t believe in witchcraft either, until someone laid a proper spell on them. But most people thought witches and dragons were the minions of Satan, which was why Fra Guill’s campaign against them roused such fervor throughout the countryside. But Erde knew better, about both dragons and witches.
The question was, how to convince Endoch?
* * *
N’Doch’s whole world is turning upside down.
He’s too old to believe in magic, or maybe too young. His weird grandfather believes in magic, for God’s sake, and he’s so uncool and old-fashioned, it’s an embarrassment to have him in the family. Not that you ever saw anythingof him, living all alone out in the bush like he does.
“This is all a setup, right?” he asks the girl, one last chance at a rational explanation. “You know, for the vid?” If she’s not an actress, if she’s making this up as she goes along, just like he is—and her look of innocent bewilderment is almost enough to convince him she is—then what are these critters?
If not a vid-tech special effect, then . . . what?
To stave off the upswelling panic, he resorts to an exercise of logic. Either they’re real, these critters, or they’re not. Fine. If they’re not real, he’s seeing things. If he’s seeing things, he’s either sick or crazy. Or—he remembers the tomato—he’s been drugged.
But he doesn’t think he’s crazy, and he doesn’t feel drugged, at least not the usual way. And except for the growing heat in his arm, he feels healthy enough. He’d managed not to drink any of the sea water drenching him, and he’d spotted both critters within moments of being cut. No bug goes to work
that
quick. Anyhow, the brothers saw them, too. That’s what saved his life.
Which means they’re real, the conclusion he’d already reached and explained away with invented technology. But if they’re real and
not
cybercritters, then what the hell are they?
This time the panic will not be kept down. Rising up with it comes a notion that defies all his attempts at logic. N’Doch tries to ignore it, but he knows where it comes from. It’s the same part of him he goes to when he writes his music, where the answers have nothing to do with logic, they just appear out of his soul like magic.
Appear like magic
. That was it. That was the notion he was trying to avoid.
Magic
.
N’Doch meets the great golden gaze of the larger critter and gives in. His knees buckle.
* * *
Erde saw the fear rush into his eyes just before he collapsed. It was like watching black water flood a ditch. Earth’s sudden arrival must have frightened him. The dragon was big, after all, though not nearly as big as she’d thought a dragon should be. And he could look terrifying if you didn’t know him. But why was Endoch scared now, when he hadn’t been before, back on the beach? Must be he was better at covering it up than she was.
Then she noticed there was blood on the floor where he’d fallen, and recalled the vicious swipe the man with the club had delivered. She relayed the reminder to Earth, but it was Water who went to him, lowering her sleek head to nose at him, crooning gently. Endoch yelped and scrambled backward on ankles and elbows as if terrified. Erde thought Water was the least sort of dragon to be frightened of, but Endoch’s terror rang in the air like a hammered bell. Erde found herself gripping Earth’s neck crest in sympathy. She could sense the dragon’s bemused surprise.
—
He is frightened. He does not know what she is
.
Erde nodded, remembering.
—
I didn’t know who you were either, when I first saw you. I thought you were going to eat me
.
A graver negative than usual washed across her mind.
—
What, not who. He does not know what a dragon is
.
This, Erde could not imagine.
—
You mean, he doesn’t believe in dragons?
She’d met people like that, though they were rare. They usually didn’t believe in witchcraft either, until someone laid a proper spell on them. But most people thought witches and dragons were the minions of Satan, which was why Fra Guill’s campaign against them roused such fervor throughout the countryside. But Erde knew better, about both dragons and witches.
The question was, how to convince Endoch?
* * *
N’Doch’s whole world is turning upside down.
He’s too old to believe in magic, or maybe too young. His weird grandfather believes in magic, for God’s sake, and he’s so uncool and old-fashioned, it’s an embarrassment to have him in the family. Not that you ever saw anythingof him, living all alone out in the bush like he does.
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