In the Labyrinth of Drakes by Marie Brennan Page B

explanation of the paper, and his reaction to it. Rather than try to follow the words, I watched Mahira. She looked pensive, giving little away; but I thought she might be pleased. If she was as fond of Suhail as I suspected, she must be glad to see him receive a gift of such personal value. And she did not seem to disapprove of me giving it.
    Suhail tucked the paper into a pocket of his embroidered caftan and laid his right hand over his heart. “I will not forget your generosity,” he said. “But … I should go.”
    â€œOf course,” I said—and then, without thinking, I extended my hand to him.
    He retreated a step, smiling regretfully. “You are not ke’anaka’i here.”
    It was a reference to our time stranded together in Keonga. There I had been considered neither male nor female, but something else entirely: dragon-spirited, the soul of an ancient creature reborn in a human body. Neither Suhail nor I believed in the metaphysical truth of the concept, but the social aspect had been real enough, and it had given us an excuse to bypass many of the constraints of propriety.
    But only for a time, and that time was now ended. “Yes, of course—forgive me.” I folded my hands against my stomach and gave him an awkward little curtsey. “I do hope I will see you again. Tom and I will need to go out into the desert, I think, if we are to improve matters here; it would be very valuable to have your assistance with that.”
    â€œAll things may be possible, God willing,” Suhail said. It was a ritual phrase, and for all his sincerity, I did not think he was optimistic.
    Then he was gone, leaving me with Mahira, who laid her book aside and rejoined me. With surprising candour, she said, “He wanted very much to speak with you.”
    And I with him. “Thank you for arranging this,” I said, and was surprised to hear my own words come out melancholy. It was that as much as any sense of duty which made me say, “I should return to my work now. Please do let me know how the honeyseekers fare.”

 
    Â 
    PART TWO
    In which we venture into the desert, where someone takes an unexpected interest in our work

 
    SEVEN
    Plans for the desert—Colonel Pensyth is concerned—Akhian politics—Riding camels—My introduction to the desert
    â€œIf we are to go into the desert,” Tom said, “we will need a flawless case for doing so. Not just what good it might do here, but an actual plan for how we are to conduct our research.
    Such plans are more common nowadays, but at the time it was a startling change from our usual mode of operation, which involved wandering out into the field and seeing what we might discover. (That mode worked far better when the body of existing knowledge was small enough that all one had to do was hold out a hand for new data to fall into it.) Tom and I worked long hours for a full week constructing our plan, for we knew any failed request would only make the next one more difficult: if we wanted to succeed, our best chance would be on our first try.
    We might also have stood a better chance if only one of us tried to go. The truth was, however, that the House of Dragons did not require much attention from us on a daily basis. Lord Tavenor had done a good job setting up the procedures there; Tom and I were needed only when crises arose (which they did not often do), or when we altered the standard arrangements. We were reluctant to do much with the latter until we had data to guide our alterations, and so I saw little reason why we both should not go to the desert—except that Colonel Pensyth would not approve. “We shall tell him the truth,” I said. “You know anatomy far better than I, but I am the one who can record it best, with my drawings.”
    â€œAnd you’re the better student of behaviour,” he agreed. “What if we marked this up—made it clear who will be