Page 73 of Dragon Gods

She hummed her agreement as Lumi returned with yet another rabbit in their beak.

“She’s a hawk? And the other two are foxes?”

“They are a hawk,” Paz said as she tied the second rabbit, dead, to her belt.

“They?” she repeated, slowly once more. For a moment, she questioned whether she knew as much dragon-tongue as she thought.

Paz was squinting now at her, as if baffled by her confusion.

“Lumi is neither woman nor man. Or both, perhaps? Like the moss frogs in the eastern springs. They are they, not she.”

Perhaps Sofia should have felt insulted by the simplicity with which Paz explained Lumi’s gender to her, but then again she had only heard of people that fell between woman and man in the books the chief commander had kept hidden in his office. The king had banned suchpracticesas he called them when the first king had first taken power of Wueco.

“But why?” Sofia asked.

Paz laughed. “Why are you a woman?”

“I just am.”

The smaller girl shrugged and Sofia had to acknowledge she had no argument against the logic. She picked up the rabbits and mice that Verano and Nino returned with a few minutes later and tried not to jump out of her skin when Lumi came soaring through the trees and with a twist, landed on the ground in their human form. They were naked, and Sofia took only a brief moment to appreciate their well-toned body before her cheeks went pink and she averted her eyes. She heard Paz’s soft huff of laughter at the reaction.

“There is a herd of deer about a quarter of a mile north of here. I can lead you there if you’re quiet.”

Sofia pulled out her dart gun as Paz nodded. It wouldn’t take any of the adult deer down, but it could slow them down and help quicken the kill from Paz’s arrows. Lumi smiled and then flickered back into their hawk form, darting off the way they’d come.

* * *

Sofia tookturns with Lumi and Verano carrying the deer back to the cenote. Paz and Nino had a dozen rabbits and smaller animals tied along their belts. They had picked up their clothing on the way back. Sofia felt an ache of pride at coming back with the others, even if she’d only helped a bit.

She knew what belonging felt like. She knew it from the cycles she’d spent by Javi’s and Flor’s sides, but it was different to feel that sense out here—with strangers. The belonging she felt in that moment didn’t come from cycles of fighting together and trust built, it came from the simple existence of sameness and a shared distant history.

Even as they walked she vowed not to tell Fox what she’d learned of the tribe and the shifters they were staying with. She’d have to tell him eventually, but he’d react poorly and she’d need to explain to him that not all of the non-human creatures in the forest were evil. He was still insisting the dragon had been evil for accidentally hurting them. The Dereyans weren’t apparently taught nuance.

The hunting party made their way down into the shallow cenote, and it took only a moment to find Fox among the others. His borrowed clothing may have blended in, but he couldn’t hide his white-blond hair glinting in the sun, brighter than anyone around him, calling him out as different—the hair of a Falais not a Wuecan. He sat beside a small cook fire, staring in concentration as the old woman next to him spoke in slow deliberate words, using her hands to emphasize what she was saying. As Sofia got closer and heard her words, she wasn’t surprised that it was dragon-tongue. What did surprise her was that Fox was nodding along, as if he understood her.

Not wanting to interrupt the lesson, she stopped a few steps away, out of his eyesight and simply watched. The woman pressed the heel of her hands together, flattening the corn dough between them. She pressed and turned the dough in one motion, over and over again until it made a disk she showed to Fox. He followed her lead, picking up a ball and pressing it between his palms, but before he’d even flattened it, the woman was clucking her tongue and picking up another, showing him carefully how she used the heels of her hands instead of her palms.

“Quidade, lentenente,”she said and Fox nodded as if he understood the carefully articulated dragon-tongue.

“Bon?” he said, holding up his newly flattened dough. The woman’s face broke into a wide smile, showing crooked teeth. Fox’s own face seemed to brighten at the unspoken praise and Sofia looked away. He so rarely smiled like that—genuine and without hesitation. It reminded her of how young he really was. How young they both were. And how very human.

“Come sit with us,” the woman said, noticing Sofia over his shoulder. Before she could refuse, the woman was standing, spry for her age and pulling Sofia over with a warm hand on her elbow. Given little choice, she sat down beside Fox, their arms brushing as the woman handed them each a ball of dough.

As they worked, the woman chattered endlessly, excited to have Sofia there to translate now for her. Her hands moved through the air like wings, the small chain along her wrist slipping up and down with every flourish. She was able to give them more detailed instructions until Fox’s tortillas were nearly indistinguishable from her own.

The air around them filled with the rich scent of woodsmoke and corn as they cooked, people from all over the cenote coming to snag the tortillas as they finished. She couldn’t help but watch Fox as he smiled—genuine and open—happy with the nods of approval from the others as they ate.

“I didn’t take you for someone who liked cooking for others,” she said, satisfied to see the smallest flinch as if he’d forgotten she was beside him.

He shrugged. “I think everyone enjoys when their work is appreciated.”

“Even by feral Dragonborn?”

He had the decency to blush, but his chin tilted up as he turned to her. “I’m sorry I implied all Dragonborn are feral. I meant only to imply that you were.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she bit back the smile that threatened to slip out.

“One of these days, it’ll work,” he said.

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