pain was coming back. He couldn’t even tell Dvara that June and Erling could mind-speak since she’d just take it as proof that the void-trails were dragons and that Jing Mei was Paaliaq, their Kairök. When she couldn’t be, or she wouldn’t have helped him.
“Hey,” Dvara said, wrapping him in another wave of warmth. “Was resisting the Call to Rise that bad?”
“Have you ever noticed that you can see when a dragon still has their rök?” asked Rakan, changing the subject to something he could deal with.
“What are you talking about? You can feel it. But you can’t see it.”
“In our trails. Look. The three of us all have a thin stripe that glows.”
Dvara focused on the trails. “I don’t see anything different from usual. Nothing is glowing in any of them.”
“Look at yours, it might be easier,” Rakan said, pointing to the center of her trail. “It’s like a fine thread of vermillion silk that runs straight through your trail. See?”
“No.”
“Mine was the only one I could see before. I thought it was because it was my own.”
“Didn’t Yarlung explain it to you? Surely she would have seen it before since she was a Master Trailer before she started to go blind.”
“No. I asked her when she first started training me.” Rakan’s voice sank lower. “But she thought I was making it up.” She had locked him in solitary confinement as punishment.
Dvara snorted. “She never thinks anyone can do something she can’t. Ready to shift?”
“No. Let’s walk.” He wanted to follow the trail of June’s rök that he had finally been able to see. It was more complex than theirs. It had three strands instead of one. And it didn’t glow her cobalt blue, it shimmered like an opal with a multitude of colors. It was hard to see unless the trail was fresh.
“Alright, then. Let’s go,” Dvara said, sounding annoyed.
Rakan looked carefully at his half-sister. “Are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
He stood up slowly. “How did things go with T’eng Sten?”
“Fine,” said Dvara. She took off down the stairs. “But we have work to do. They haven’t tripped a single trigger, even though they’ve been totally wrapped up in each other. I don’t understand it.”
Rakan ran after her. “Dvara…”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, pulling back. She’d never tell him what had happened and he couldn’t read her at all. “Thank you.”
She looked at him questioningly.
“For Anna,” he said, unable to meet her eyes.
Dvara pushed him in the shoulder. “You’re welcome. And don’t worry, it wasn’t so bad.” A smile played on her lips and she turned away, blocking him off again.
They walked in silence until they neared the Tibetan House. “What do you think about the twins?” Dvara asked. “How can they can be identical like that? It can’t be natural.”
“They aren’t actually identical,” Rakan said, his eyes on the void-feeling trails that led to their home. “Sverd’s trail is sharper, like the edge of a blade, and Verje’s is harder. Or denser. His trail is more like a barrier or a shield.” Rakan stopped in front of the Tibetan House. “Look, they must have stood here. The trails are clearer.”
Dvara looked around. “I don’t see them. Have you tried to erase yours yet? Maybe that would help you figure it out. But they have to be dragons: Erling is wearing a Maii-a. I felt it on him this afternoon.”
Rakan shrugged. “Anyone can wear one.” An image of Anna wearing his and nothing else floated into his mind.
“Except that they can’t be made on Earth. The only Maii-as left are those that the Old Dragons were wearing when the Red Planet exploded. And both June and Erling have one. How could they have gotten them if they aren’t Old Dragons?”
“Maybe two Old Dragons gave them their Maii-as, like Yarlung and Khotan gave us theirs. Because otherwise they’d all have Maii-as.” Rakan tried to push the image of Anna wearing his
“Hey,” Dvara said, wrapping him in another wave of warmth. “Was resisting the Call to Rise that bad?”
“Have you ever noticed that you can see when a dragon still has their rök?” asked Rakan, changing the subject to something he could deal with.
“What are you talking about? You can feel it. But you can’t see it.”
“In our trails. Look. The three of us all have a thin stripe that glows.”
Dvara focused on the trails. “I don’t see anything different from usual. Nothing is glowing in any of them.”
“Look at yours, it might be easier,” Rakan said, pointing to the center of her trail. “It’s like a fine thread of vermillion silk that runs straight through your trail. See?”
“No.”
“Mine was the only one I could see before. I thought it was because it was my own.”
“Didn’t Yarlung explain it to you? Surely she would have seen it before since she was a Master Trailer before she started to go blind.”
“No. I asked her when she first started training me.” Rakan’s voice sank lower. “But she thought I was making it up.” She had locked him in solitary confinement as punishment.
Dvara snorted. “She never thinks anyone can do something she can’t. Ready to shift?”
“No. Let’s walk.” He wanted to follow the trail of June’s rök that he had finally been able to see. It was more complex than theirs. It had three strands instead of one. And it didn’t glow her cobalt blue, it shimmered like an opal with a multitude of colors. It was hard to see unless the trail was fresh.
“Alright, then. Let’s go,” Dvara said, sounding annoyed.
Rakan looked carefully at his half-sister. “Are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
He stood up slowly. “How did things go with T’eng Sten?”
“Fine,” said Dvara. She took off down the stairs. “But we have work to do. They haven’t tripped a single trigger, even though they’ve been totally wrapped up in each other. I don’t understand it.”
Rakan ran after her. “Dvara…”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, pulling back. She’d never tell him what had happened and he couldn’t read her at all. “Thank you.”
She looked at him questioningly.
“For Anna,” he said, unable to meet her eyes.
Dvara pushed him in the shoulder. “You’re welcome. And don’t worry, it wasn’t so bad.” A smile played on her lips and she turned away, blocking him off again.
They walked in silence until they neared the Tibetan House. “What do you think about the twins?” Dvara asked. “How can they can be identical like that? It can’t be natural.”
“They aren’t actually identical,” Rakan said, his eyes on the void-feeling trails that led to their home. “Sverd’s trail is sharper, like the edge of a blade, and Verje’s is harder. Or denser. His trail is more like a barrier or a shield.” Rakan stopped in front of the Tibetan House. “Look, they must have stood here. The trails are clearer.”
Dvara looked around. “I don’t see them. Have you tried to erase yours yet? Maybe that would help you figure it out. But they have to be dragons: Erling is wearing a Maii-a. I felt it on him this afternoon.”
Rakan shrugged. “Anyone can wear one.” An image of Anna wearing his and nothing else floated into his mind.
“Except that they can’t be made on Earth. The only Maii-as left are those that the Old Dragons were wearing when the Red Planet exploded. And both June and Erling have one. How could they have gotten them if they aren’t Old Dragons?”
“Maybe two Old Dragons gave them their Maii-as, like Yarlung and Khotan gave us theirs. Because otherwise they’d all have Maii-as.” Rakan tried to push the image of Anna wearing his