Timothy Zahn - Dragon and Slave

The boy stared as Draycos came around the side of the bed, never taking his eyes off the K'da for a moment. "You are thirsty, are you not?" Draycos tried again as he slipped off his backpack.

Noy nodded silently. "It is well that I brought this, then," Draycos went on, choosing one of the bottles and prying off the seal. "I hope you like... I believe this is called grappo juice." He held the bottle toward Noy.

The boy's mouth worked as if he was trying to say something. His gaze had shifted now from the K'da's face to the bottle, and the claws holding it. "Go ahead," Draycos said encouragingly, moving it a little closer to him. "It will be good for you. Drink."

Slowly, Noy took the bottle. Staring down into it, he lifted it to his mouth.

A few drops slithered down the corners of his lips. But most of that first drink made it inside where it belonged. "How does it taste?" Draycos asked.

Noy looked up at the K'da, then back into the depths of the bottle. "A little funny," he said.

"Yes, that is the way of a fever," Draycos agreed. "Foods often do not taste normal."

Noy drank again. Then, all at once, the strength seemed to go out of his arms.

The bottle started to slip from his grip—

Draycos's forepaw snaked out smoothly, catching the bottle before it could fall.

"Very good," he said as he set it down beside the cot where Noy could reach it.

"Perhaps you should rest now. You can drink more in a little while."

"Okay," the boy said. He was starting to sag a little, and his breathing seemed more labored. "Could I have—" He paused, looking around as if searching for something.

"Another drink?" Draycos suggested, picking up the bottle. "Certainly. Allow me to hold it for you."

The boy drank deeper this time before coming up for air. "Still tastes funny," he said, panting a little. His eyelids were definitely sagging now.

"It will taste better tomorrow," Draycos said, wishing he had had more experience with human sicknesses. Too late, he wished he'd thought to bring Jack's comm clip out here with him. Perhaps Uncle Virge could have helped him know how to deal with it. "I will give you one more drink, then I shall let you rest."

"No!" Noy gasped. His hand fumbled for Draycos's forepaw, gripping it with an odd combination of desperation and weakness. "Don't leave me. Please. Don't leave me."

Draycos twitched his tail in surprise. "I must," he said. "I cannot stay."

"No," Noy said. His voice had sunk to a whisper, as if he had already used up all of his remaining strength. "Please."

Draycos reached out with his other forepaw and stroked the boy's sweaty forehead. A bitter memory floated up in front of his eyes: the dead Shontine aboard his ship, the Havenseeker, after the enemy ambush over Iota Klestis.

Friends, companions, and fellow warriors; but there had been nothing he could do for them. Noy, in contrast, was almost a stranger.

But unlike those dead friends, there was something Draycos could do for him.

Something small; perhaps even something meaningless. But something.

"Very well," he told the boy quietly. "I will stay with you, for as long as I can. Lie down, now, and rest."

Noy's eyes were already closed as he sank back down onto his cot. "Don't leave me," the boy murmured again. "I'm scared."

"I will wait with you awhile," Draycos promised, moving the food and juice containers aside so that he could crouch comfortably beside Noy's cot. "And do not be afraid. You have nothing to fear as long as I am here."

Noy shivered once, his eyes moving restlessly beneath the closed lids. Was he becoming delirious? Sliding even deeper into his fever?

Draycos sighed to himself, wishing even harder he'd brought the comm clip. "I will sing to you," he said, for lack of anything better to say. "A song of danger and courage, of fear and victory. Would you like that?"

"Okay," Noy breathed, his lips barely moving.

And so Draycos began to sing.

Quietly, softly, gently. Songs of encouragement, and hope, and strength. Some of them were the old ballads of the K'da that he had learned as a cub. Others were his own songs, created from the joys and sorrows of his own heart.

Songs that reminded him of his people, and of their war against the Valahgua, and of the home they had been forced to abandon. Songs that reminded him of the terrible responsibility that had been placed between his claws.

Noy lay restlessly through most of it, his face and body twitching in his sleep.

Every so often he would wake up, and Draycos would give him another drink of juice. He would then lie down again, and drift back into his troubled sleep.

And Draycos would stroke the boy's forehead, or rest his forepaw comfortingly on his shoulder, and resume his singing. The night was near its end when the twitching and muttering faded away and Noy seemed to settle into a deeper and more restful sleep. His forehead seemed cooler to the touch, too, but Draycos had no idea whether that was good or bad.

What he did know was that it was long past time for him to go.

"I must go now, Noy," he said. "I will come again later."

The boy just swallowed and rolled over. Sound asleep. Draycos moved the food and juice bottles back to where Noy could reach them, and slipped out of the hut.

The trip back to the Chookoock family side of the hedge was uneventful. He reached the frying pan just as the stars were starting to fade into a reddish glow in the eastern sky. "Jack?" he called quietly, his snout pressed to the gap beneath the door.

There was no answer. "Jack?" he called, a bit more loudly. If the Brummgas had come and taken him away...

"About time," Jack's voice came irritably from inside. "Come on, come on—get in."

Draycos shoved the wooden slab inside. Jack's fingers appeared beneath the door, beckoning impatiently. The K'da set his paw on the hand and shifted into two-dimensional form, sliding up his host's arm as he did so.

"Geez, but you had me worried," Jack muttered as Draycos moved to his usual position across Jack's back. "I thought for sure you'd been nailed. What did you do, take the scenic route?"

"Not precisely," Draycos said. "The errand took longer than expected."

"No kidding, Sherlock," Jack said. "You have any idea what time it is?"

"I know it is close to my six-hour time limit," Draycos said. He hadn't realized just how close, actually, until now. The strength flowing into him as he rested against Jack's skin made him realize just how weak he'd been before his return.

With Noy's illness filling his thoughts, he hadn't even noticed.

"So what took so long?"

"I was with Noy," Draycos said. "He was afraid, so I sat with him awhile and—"

"Wait a minute," Jack interrupted. "What do you mean, he was afraid? He saw you?"

"Yes, but do not be concerned," Draycos said. "He was—"

"He saw you?" Jack repeated, sounding stunned. "Oh, that's terrific. That's absolutely terrific."

"It will not be a problem," Draycos insisted, feeling a little annoyed at Jack's reaction. "He was in high fever. If he remembers anything at all, he will undoubtedly conclude it was a dream."

Jack didn't say anything, but Draycos could feel the boy's hands tightening into fists. "It was necessary," the K'da continued firmly. "He was afraid, and sick, and alone. Would you not have done the same if you were there?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't there," Jack bit out. The words were harsh, but his tone was beginning to calm a little. "I was in here. Freezing to death, and worried sick about you."

"I am sorry," Draycos said, a flash of guilt replacing his earlier annoyance.

"I did not intend to cause you concern. But it was something I had to do."

"Yeah, I know," Jack said with a sigh. "Just one of those K'da poet-warrior things, huh? Like pulling that guy Dumbarton out of the hot dirt on Iota Klestis?"