It wouldn't be so hard if his thumb would only have grown properly. But that would be impossible.

Well, it would have been, if the healers had gotten the story out of him as a wailing child. They might have saved what little movement he had in his right thumb, with their mystical arts. The church trained a lot of different magical studies, not the least of which was healing.

Why weren't they there to help him when he needed them most?

Malai sat on the edge of his bed and gazed out into the middle distance, not looking at his thumb but not really staring out the window either. Since the fire and the attack, everyone with any expertise at all at warding spells was required to maintain their rooms and a full day watch should anyone attack again.

That suited Malai fine, he was a good watcher. Well, he was now. If he'd only been so observant as a kit, he wouldn't be in this situation at all.

That unfair self-observation was typical of Malai's mindset since his childhood loss of his home and parents. Though they were not in the same village, Aliza and Malai lost their families in the same series of attacks on the borderlands, some seven years prior. Their houses and fields put to the torch - just like the foreign invaders had tried the weeks before.

Malai remembered the hard hoof-beats of the horses in retrospect. There were always horses on the farm, but never the light and graceful racers which came through the village before the invasion. He was curious, of course, any nine year old was. But he was also busy with collecting the hen eggs and if his mother found that he had been daydreaming or out ogling some passerby, he'd have his tail shut in the door as a punishment.

She said she'd do it, but she never had. Malai didn't know that.

So a young Malai continued to sift through the reeds and nesting materials which made up the hen house, examining each egg for signs of life before taking it into his basket or dropping it carefully back into its nest. He heard his father's voice, but was too far away to understand what he was saying.

When his mother's voice joined his father's, Malai slowly placed the basket of eggs onto the ground, and looked out the half-open shed door at the main farm house. What he saw there was incomprehensible to a young child's mind.

His mother was standing with her hands over her breasts, her white-speckled fur dappled with a dark red color which had spread to her cooking apron. Below her - why below?! - was his father's graphite-striped form grasping at the apron...

Two large men, wearing black and silver clothing. Full clothing, so rare out here in the farmlands, was enough to raise the young cub's curiousity. However he knew that something was just wrong. His sister was screaming, up in her room. Why was she screaming? And his younger brother was nowhere to be found.

So intent on the tableaux of his mother and father falling slowly to the ground in bloody heaps, that Malai didn't hear the fourth rider beside the henhouse. The hens scattered, and just too late, Malai looked up at them to silence them.

He saw the tall dark-furred shape of a man in black armor, trimmed in a silver piping, looking down at him with an unfriendly snarl on his face. His ears were small, cropped down as many warriors would have. Their ears would betray fear or other emotions.

Malai's charcoal-black chin dropped open and a squeal escaped his throat. The soldier grasped him by the neck, hefting his small shape over his shoulder. Malai couldn't get more than another squeaking sound out, he was terrified. He went limp, and that possibly saved his life.

When Malai woke, he was tied to a horse's tack, strapped to the back of one soldier's saddle like stolen loot. He tried looking down behind the horse, but all he saw was the dusty road. He had no idea where he was, only that he was not on his farm. Malai had never been farther away from his farm than the watering hole and the village church.

He started to struggle, and the rider who had him tied laughed at seeing him. "Well, this little cubling finally wakes. Little man, you've got a long hard life ahead of you!" He laughed again, the kind of laugh that had never been heard at the farmstead. A bitter, angry, and sadistic laugh.

Malai attempted to squirm away, but he soon discovered why he was so uncomfortable - as if being slung belly-down onto a moving horse wasn't bad enough. His hands were tied behind his back, and strapped to the saddle at an angle. There seemed to be hooks around the edge of the saddle - particularly for this use, Malai wasn't sure.

Crying, Malai didn't know what to do, but he knew he wanted nothing of the life which the soldier promised him. So he started trying to work the straps loose, his thin wrists were abraded and blistered already from the sweaty horse and riding through the afternoon sun.

When Malai almost freed himself, he tried to spring free - and then realized his mistake. His hands weren't the only things tied - his feet were bound, and his fingers wrapped through the ties at his wrists. His hands were numb, he hadn't felt them.

So he rolled half-aware off the side of the horse, then was kicked by the hooves like a party pinata - dangling only by his fingers. His thumbs were bound more tightly, and they were all that supported him, bound to the saddle.

The soldier laughed...

***

Malai sighed, moving a tear from his eye. The memory wasn't bad enough - he had a constant reminder of this deadened white thumb of his. It had regained most of its life, but not all, and all the fur had long stopped growing on it. It was a sickly thing. The rest of him was healthy and strong, but ...

He never felt whole. Malai wondered, perhaps a dragon would heal that wound inside him. His parents and siblings could never be replaced, but he hoped that perhaps he would have his own family some day.

Idle thoughts of Aliza drifted through his teenaged mind, thoughts he chastised himself for feeling. The church didn't have rules against intimate relationships, of course, what true faith could deny the power of love and attraction? But Malai didn't think she would ever see him as an equal - even if he did ride a dragon some day.

Malai couldn't meditate, he was distracted. He set up a ward which would make his head tingle and bells sound in his ears, if anyone untoward entered the window of his room. Then, he slunk off to master Hart's chambers.

He heard Hart and the aura Mistress talking, in sharp tones. He hated hearing words from that woman in such a tone - he'd been yelled at enough by her to worry whenever he heard her voice.

"She's not coming back," Temarnis said, "she's going off with those people and you know she'll take her time getting back to us. If she ever does."

"I do not understand," said Hart, "why you despise her so much."

"And I know why you love her so much, she's not your daughter, Hart. Your child perished long ago. And like a fool, you've taken her to your side as you would a--"

"Enough," spat Hart, "you've done enough damage already. I know you hate the girl, but Aliza is our hope. Whether you like to admit it or not, she's mastered your work, and mine, and two other masters as well. What of it if I think she's more a daughter than I dare tell her?"

Malai clung to the wall, he hadn't been heard. If he had, he might be in terrible trouble. His curiosity made his ears latch on to every word.

"What about the boy?" Temarnis said, "you've grown fond of that useless farmboy. He belongs tending cattle, not casting wards."

"He's working as hard as he can, Temarnis," Hart sighed, and Malai knew he was talking about none other than himself. "The boy's education has done him well enough - and I'd remind you that those farm hands make strong guards. He's fond of Aliza, you know that he'd follow in her footsteps if he could."

"Then perhaps you ought to send him along with her," Temarnis said, and Malai sensed that she was exiting the master's chambers, so he quickly made for the nearby meditation chambers, and did not hear the rest of her words.

Malai sat in a crouch and tried to seem calm, but when the master opened the meditation chamber doors he was so tense you could have bounced stones off his hide.

Hart sat cross-legged next to the boy, staring at the fire in the hearth nearby. "Pay no heed to her words. That thoughtless witch has never cared for anyone but herself in all her life."

Stunned that he would say such a thing, Malai hazarded a look at his martial master. "Sir, not to pry but... You had a daughter?"

He hoped that his words weren't going to be rewarded by a swift and solid pounding. Fortunately, Hart only smiled softly, and closed his eyes. "Yes, many many years ago. She would be twice Aliza's age, but she was... hah, I've lost two teenage daughters, then. And I'm about to lose a son. You would like to follow her, Malai, wouldn't you."

He knew, so well he knew Malai's mind. Better than the boy could. Malai nodded, not sure if he should smile or be serious.

"Then you should prepare your belongings. If I contact the Protectorate riders tonight, they will be here for you in the morning, and you at least won't have to worry about that wench aura mistress of ours. But you will be sure to practice! Your skills won't hone themselves if you don't practice!"

"If Aliza will spar with me, I'd probably wind up losing, but at least I'll get the chance." Malai said excitedly. "Will I be going to that same place, the CyDragonstake?"

Hart laughed, "well boy if you want to follow her, that's where you'll be going. I don't think it would be too much to ask them to bring you along, I have heard the eggs need good men and women for their bonds. You'll do well. And perhaps Aliza will learn to see you the way you'd see her..."

So wise, and apparently so bemused at this situation, master Hart stood and chuckled. "Yes, I have lost a son and a daughter, but I hope to have you both back. You bring her back, Malai. Your job will be to keep her from drifting. She belongs here, as do you."

Malai straightened his back and drew himself up, standing almost as tall as the master. "I will sir." He paused, and master Hart was about to leave, when Malai said, "but sir, I wonder."

"Hmn?"

"Where will the dragons stay? If they come back here, there won't be room for them. What about ... building them some place to roost? I know nothing about what kind of place they will like, but there are caves and gulleys nearby which might... I don't know, be used to house them. When we come back."

Hart tapped his head, and said, "good thought, Malai. Good work. I'll talk to the local men about getting a big shelter worked up. Wish I knew half of what you'll be learning about those dragons..." He wandered away, and Malai finally brought himself back to meditation state.

He was going to follow Aliza - and he was going to bond a dragon at Cy Dragon Stake!

***

Aliza was so confident. She stood proudly beside the other candidates and she made Malai feel safe.

He took strength from her very presence. There were other odd people at this hatching, and Malai felt that perhaps they might share distant kin - somewhere. Maybe.

Aliza didn't apparently think so, but then she hadn't gone as far as to talk to any of the other felines either.

The candidates and some few onlookers were happy when the hatching started. Malai bounced a bit up and down on his feet, unable to remain still. He could hardly contain himself.

There was a buzzing in his head, though it was obviously coming from one of the eggs, he wasn't sure which one. The other hatchlings came out, but then one was having trouble. Malai felt a voice, muffled, distant but couldn't quite make out the words.

It was a velvety soft voice, almost overshadowed by the sound of Delith the queen moving to help the egg break. Malai had reached the egg first, though.

He kicked at the shell, it was unusually tough especially compared to the others which had broken before it. A brown snout poked out from the small crack, and Malai pulled on the pieces of the shell.

At last, the brown inside fell out of the egg and the voice in Malai's head became distinct. Still soft like down, dark like the velvet of night.

Thank you for saving me. I would not mind living in a cave if it meant living with you, said the dragon.

With a caress to the dragon's still-wet head, Malai said, "No, thank you Jalentir, I know that you are terribly hungry... But could you wait a little while? I wish to see what Aliza will impress, if that's all right with you?"

Fine. I can wait for my siblings to hatch.

They waited, indeed, for Aliza to bond her beautiful silver. Malai was... very slightly disappointed that she hadn't bonded a female, but then again, they could enhance each other's abilities - or even compete!