Page 18 of Buoy
“I don’t know if I’ll answer.”
“Are you…” Rhys stopped to think a moment. “Long living? Dragons can live for centuries, maybe millennia.”
“Very long living.” That he knew. His parents had been hundreds of years old. He was nothing more than an accident and then a burden.
“Good.” Rhys let out a breath and his shoulders relaxed.
Soren went back to his meal, with Rhys taking a few chunks of cheese and an apple for himself. They chatted about what had happened since their last visit, which wasn’t much. Rhys was nearing the end of his schooling. And Soren. Soren was still more jewel thief than pirate, though he was on deck during scrimmages more. Vex trusted he’d trained Soren well on how to use a blade. Soren only defended himself and never landed a killing blow. He couldn’t bear the thought of the useless murders.
The summer sun beat down on them, making Soren ache. He needed to swim soon.
But a sunny grin spread across Rhys’ lips. “Race ya.”
“Still can’t pass the docks.”
“That’s fine.” Rhys scratched at his elbow. “I’ve been looking into how to break binding magic.”
Soren’s heart sped up. He opened his mouth to speak, but Rhys started again.
“But it’s all more complicated than I understand still.” He let out a sigh. “I wish you could at least leave the docks.”
“I’ve gotten used to it.” If he’d keep his damned mouth shut, he’d be able to wander. There were a few ports Vex let him do just that. But on their way to Lane Soren always got anxious and said something in a tone Vex didn’t like, and his wandering privileges were taken away. Soren bundled his leftovers and left it by the shed. No one would bother them. He stood at the ready next to Rhys.
“Two laps around the dock. Whoever makes it back first is the winner,” Rhys said.
“What does the winner get?”
“Dunno, haven’t decided yet.” With that, Rhys ran.
Soren didn’t have a hope to catch up. Rhys’ legs were so long and he was so fast. But Soren tried anyway, pushing himself to the limit and when he finally made it back to the shed after his two rounds, he dropped next to a resting Rhys.
“Did you decide?” Soren’s breath came out in harsh huffs. His shirt stuck to his sweaty back. Rhys was drenched, too.
“Can I have a lock of your hair?” The words were a whisper, and Rhys turned away before finishing. Soren wondered if he had even heard him correctly. “Nevermind. Uh… that’s—”
“I don’t have anything to cut it with.” Soren unraveled the braid, letting his hair tumble over his shoulders. It was almost to his waist.
Rhys pulled a knife from his belt. “Are you sure? It’s not weird?”
“You won. And it’s what you asked for your prize.” Soren turned his back to Rhys to give him full access to whatever lock he wanted.
“You always smell like the sea. And sweetness. The academy is always musty despite freshening spells.” Rhys’ hand was in Soren’s hair, threading fingers through, separating parts. “It’s so soft and silky.” Then he dropped his hand to take a bit at the end. The action was swift, and he held up the finger length piece of hair to show Soren as he faced Rhys again.
“I have something else for you.” Soren pulled the scallop seashell from his pocket. He gave it one last look to make sure it was perfect before handing it over.
“I love your shells.” Rhys turned it over in his hand, caressed it with his thumb before curling the lock of hair into the well of the shell, then put the gifts in his pocket.
They both watched each other.
Soren wanted to play with the auburn curls that were just long enough to loop around Rhys’ horns. Wanted to see if they were soft. But instead, he started talking. “Oh! I saw your dragon last year. You’re beautiful.” Soren’s cheeks warmed. Did he just say that out loud?
“I don’t know that my dragon is beautiful, but—”
“But it is.” Skies, did his voice just crack? He cleared his throat again. “You’re all the colors of a flame. I’m glad I could see it.”
“Hopefully sometime you’ll be able to leave the docks and I can take you flying.”
“Really?” Soren had never been flying. The thought was thrilling.
