Dragon and Phoenix by Joanne Bertin

grabbed onto his long mane. “Now!” Boreal pulled her straight up. She staggered forward a pace or two. The Llysanyin walked with her.
    “Linden! Linden, for the sake of the gods, will you listen!” She waved frantically, trying to get Linden’s attention, but she was behind the line of truedragons. He couldn’t see her. He didn’t know she was alive and well. He’d die under the claws of the truedragons for nothing. “Linden!” she screamed.
    Nothing. Then … The mad charge stopped. He’d heard her! As the red-scaled head swung around, eyes frantically searching among the truedragons, Boreal seized the back of Maurynna’s tunic in his teeth and dragged her forward between Galinis and Morlen.
    At once a red mist surrounded the solitary dragon, shrank, disappeared, and Linden faced the truedragons in human form.
    She stumbled into his arms, held him tightly, glad to feel them around her even though their grip was painfully tight. After a time she became aware of a growing wetness under her left hand and she remembered the blood she’d seen.
    “You’re hurt,” she said, pulling back from him a little. “How? What happened?”
    “Never mind that,” said Linden raggedly. “What happened to you?” His face was stark white and etched with fear.
    “I … I don’t know,” she answered.
    *It was my fault,* Morlen said. His wings drooped. He sagged onto the grass; the others lay down as well, their relief at avoiding battle plain to see.
    His mindvoice dismayed, Morlen continued, *I wished to speak to Kyrissaean. I told thy soultwin that there would be no harm to her. I thought I spoke the truth.*
    “There should have been no danger,” Linden said. “Speech with a dragonsoul has been done before and no ill came of it.”
    Maurynna rested her head on Linden’s shoulder. “Until Kyrissaean, damn her.” She held back tears of frustration. If she could only get at her dragon half and have it out with her! “At least she didn’t half kill me when Rathan tried to speak with her.”
    *Little cousin,* Morlen said. His mindvoice was the barest whisper. *I have endangered thee —*
    “My lord Morlen,” Maurynna said. She refused to cry in front of the truedragons; it was a matter of pride. But if Morlen continued apologizing, cry she would. “This is not your fault. Please .”
    *Thee are kind,* Morlen said, bowing his head to her. She wondered if he sensed her fear. *I thank thee.* The Seer heaved himself to his feet once more; sunlight sparkled over his moss green scales. The other truedragons rose as well.
    Maurynna stood transfixed as Morlen towered over her. He bent his neck so that the tip of his muzzle touched her forehead as if in benediction. His scales were pleasantly cool against her skin.
    *I do not See as clearly as I once did, little one, and I am not quite certain just what thee are, but I think that thee will be important to us someday. I would stay to make certain thee are well, cousin, but we have grave news to bring to our kin. We may not delay any longer. Fare thee well, Maurynna Kyrissaean.*
    The great head snapped up. Linden grabbed Maurynna and tugged her back as the truedragon spread his wings. The others followed suit.
    “We must give them room,” he said and pulled her into a stumbling run. Boreal loped alongside them as they ran to the side of the meadow.
    Maurynna stood at Linden’s side, arms tight around him once more, breathing much harder than she should be and shaken by Morlen’s final words. From the feel of his mindvoice, she suspected that he’d spoken only to her that time. She watched the truedragons crouch in preparation to jump.
    *Fare thee well, little cousins!* came a chorus of draconic mindvoices.
    With a mighty heave of his hind legs, Morlen launched himself into the air. Even from where she stood Maurynna could feel the backwash of air from the great wings as Morlen left the earth behind. Then Galinis and Talassaene sprang into the air after their leader,