A sense of wordless awe came from Quickthorn, as if such power was beyond her wildest imaginings.
Then Coquelicot’s enormous dragon muscles flexed against his cheek. Darcy’s eyes flew open as she sent querulously,The future will not matter to me if I cannot release this egg,It was a message to him alone, not to the other dragons.Little One, will you help me make the egg pass? I do not want to let another dragon in my body.
I am willing to try anything, but I know nothing of this sort of healing. Especially of dragons. I can repair small cuts in mortals, but that is all.
I know how to heal, but only in the bodies of others. I cannot see inside myself to do it – but you can.
Darcy licked his dry lips.I do not know how.
Put your hands on me, and send your Talent inside. Just as you do with this land of yours.
It seemed impossible, but for her sake, he would try. He stripped off his gloves and laid his palms against her iridescent scales, once again surprised by their silky warmth – and the power infusing them. Taking a deep breath, he sent his Talent into her enormous body.
Only to find an impenetrable barrier blocking him. He was about to tell her he could not do it when he sensed a tiny, narrow opening curving off to the side. It must be the opening where two scales overlapped, because dragon scales were the ultimate armor, impervious both to weapons and magic. The only way past them was to go around.
He shifted his left hand to cover the opening and let his Talent explore. Not a direct entrance, no; he had to slide his power between and below the scales to find the leathery hide underneath. Another tough layer, but not as impermeable as the scales. Beneath that…
Power. Vast channels of power, throbbing through enormous muscles. Crimson blood that sparked with magic. So very foreign, and yet oddly familiar. As was the agony that pulsed through it, making his own gut cramp.
That was where he needed to go. He sent his Talent questing after the pain, past huge, unrecognizable organs, around bones sheathed in what appeared to be silver metal, and finally to the source. A tube of hard tendons with a line of eggs inside it. One was larger than the others, blocking the way. The tissues around it were hot and engorged.
Then he reached for Coquelicot’s mind.
She was right there with him.There! Well done, clever Little One. You have found it. Now you must fix it.
What did that mean? When he had helped tenant farmers with difficult deliveries, he had used his Talent to soothe ewe’s swollen flesh. But that had been on the outside of the animal, not deep inside. Perhaps he should try it, though. He let tendrils of power go into the injured tissue, encouraging it to release the swelling and to calm itself.
And slowly, the heat began to dissipate.
Ah, that is better,Coquelicot told him with a sigh.Yes. Now youmust break the egg.
For a moment he panicked. He had no more than the basic healing skills most Talents possessed, the power to mend scratches and cuts. Even a deep abrasion was beyond his abilities. How could he break the egg when his hands were outside her body? It was impossible enough that he could go inside her and change the flesh. Usually he could not sense the inner parts of a human body, much less a giant flying lizard!
I am not a lizard,she sent crossly.
Good Lord, could she hear every word he thought?
No, it is just because your mind is inside me. Can you break the egg, so the others come into the world?
I do not know how. Better to let Quickthorn attempt it. At least she knows what a dragon's body is supposed to be like.
No. I beg you. You can do more, for you are in me.Her desperation echoed through him.
How could he deny her?I will try, but do not expect success.And then he turned his attention to that oversized egg.
He had no tools, only his Talent and his mind. He imagined laying his hands on the oval egg, and he could suddenly feel it. The shell was not hard, like a chicken's egg, but soft and pliable. He could press his imaginary finger into it and feel a slight indentation.
How could he break it when it was not fragile? Must he somehow rip it open? The thought made him queasy. Rana Akshaya had suggested making it smaller as a different option. That seemed impossible, too, but so was this entire process.
He might as well try.
His imaginary hands pushed at the shell, but nothing happened. He tried reaching his mind inside the egg - and found a presence.
Its edges felt fuzzy, but it perceived him. He could tell that much. He tried to ask it to shrink down, with a mental image of the egg getting smaller.
All he received in response was puzzlement and a sense of query.
You are a dragon, he told it.Dragons can make themselves larger and smaller. Tell yourself to be little.
