Enfri groaned as she came awake. Winds and storms, her back ached. She felt like someone had her spine in their hands and was trying to force it into the proper shape.

It took several attempts, but she managed to rock herself out of the chair. Her feet were unsteady beneath her, and she smacked her lips. Her tongue was dry, her throat was sore, and she could taste some manner of foulness on her breath.

The water jug was calling to her. Enfri drew out the ladle and gulped down enough water to drown a fish. Breathless, she dropped the ladle back into the jug and looked to the shuttered window. Through the wooden slats, she saw the shadow of the house reaching towards the village.

I'm west of the village, she told herself. Enfri drew her brow together in confusion. Why would she be telling herself that? It was a rather inane fact to go reviewing for no reason, wasn't it?

"The sun's in the west," she said aloud.

There was a part of her that was aware she was slowly drawing towards a realization— something obvious she was missing because she was still stupid with sleep.

Enfri slapped her palm against her forehead when it finally came to her. Sunset. I slept through the whole blustering day.

The geese were going to be furious that she missed feeding time. Her ankles were fair game to their vicious, little beaks for the next month.

Angry at herself, Enfri stormed out of the house with a basket of feed. Judging by the light, she wouldn't have much time to tend to the animals before dark. She muttered curses at her laziness and looked up towards the garden.

Enfri dropped the basket.

A figure stood among her rows of herbs. It was pale and white, almost seeming to fade into the air as it moved. Enfri felt blood rush to her head when she saw it was the form of a person. A woman, to be exact, with long, golden hair. Her skin appeared pallid. No, more than pallid; it was white as snow. The woman had her back to Enfri, which was fortunate because she was wearing nothing but her own skin.

Enfri stumbled and fell onto her backside, her eyes wide with stark terror. A ghost! Grandmother always spoke of the spirits wandering the desert, but Enfri never thought to believe in them. A blustering ghost was in her garden!

A strangled noise left Enfri's throat. She couldn't even scream. Just a warbling that sounded like a kitten imitating a toad.

The specter turned towards the racket Enfri was making. Her eyes were a bright amber color, and they sparkled with stifled amusement. Her skin no longer seemed a milky white, but silver.

Oh, now I'm angry.

"Winds and storms, Deebee! Winds and blustering storms!"

Deebee walked towards her and bent at the waist to get a closer look at the sky woman scrambling about on the hard-packed dirt. "Surprised?" she asked.

"I'll skin you for this! I know how!"

The naked atrocity of a dragon covered her mouth in feigned shock. "Oh my. How brutish. Is this how mortals thank someone who's helped them?"

"Helped?" Enfri squawked.

"With your chores." Deebee gestured towards the animal pens.

The old milk cow was burying her head into fresh straw, and the pigs were rolling contentedly in their mud wallow. Even the geese were uncharacteristically pleasant as they waddled about.

"You were exhausted," Deebee explained, "so I thought to let you rest. Your tools are ill suited to my claws, so I took a more appropriate form."

"Appropriate?" Enfri demanded. "Deebee, you are not at all appropriate. What if someone came by and saw you traipsing about with your... your bits hanging out for all to see?"

"Hanging? The nerve." Deebee leaned back to look down at herself. "I think I look rather nice. Maybe I ought charge them for the opportunity."

"You harlot!" Enfri screeched.

Deebee clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes. "You're so much like your father. He was no fun, either."

Did... Did Deebee mean to say that she appeared like this in front of Father? Too much. Simply too much information.

"Cl-clothes," Enfri choked out. Her hands covered her eyes. She couldn't look at Deebee while she was like that.

"Clothing? Well, I can't just make clothes appear on myself. They're not part of your body, and I can only be one thing at a time."

"Put on clothes!" Enfri screamed. "Or change back into you. I don't care which. Just stop being naked!"

"Merciful winds, child," Deebee scolded. "Get a hold of yourself. You're a healer, aren't you? I'd wager my hoard against a walnut that you've seen more naked women and men than anyone else in the village, so stop this foolishness at once."

Enfri muttered something to the effect of this being a different situation, but heard the sense in what Deebee said. She accepted the hand Deebee extended, and got up to her feet. Her dress was dusty now, so she unceremoniously brushed the dirt off.

"Better?" Deebee asked. "Good. Now, you had visitors this morning."

"You know?" Enfri asked. She was surprised but grateful that she wouldn't need to fill the dragon in on everything.

Deebee nodded. She made an annoyed face and flipped a few wayward strands of gold hair away from her eyes. "How do you manage with this fluff on your head? Yes, I saw them. I waited with the chickens and observed the whole thing."

"The chickens? As in, you turned into a chicken?"

"Yes. Much more agreeable than those dratted geese of yours. Happy to be fed and happy to have shelter, but that's beside the point. I followed those people for a time after they left."

Enfri perked up. "Is Haythe well?"

"Yes, yes." Deebee waved away Enfri's concerns. "The lad is perfectly fine. The blacksmith received a chest of silver in exchange for that horrible ore. I imagine that lot is still celebrating their good fortune. Goodman Smith started dancing before the assassins were even out of sight."

Enfri smiled at the image, then scowled. That blustering idiot of a man. A patient fresh out of his deathbed shouldn't be dancing.

"So, they really were the king's assassins? They lied about being hunters."

"That depends on how broadly you define hunters. Their prey is other humans. Your king makes effective use of this current brood, though he is apparently not above using them to run simple errands. Strange, that."

Enfri wrinkled her nose in confusion. She didn't like being ignorant of things. "Current brood?"

Deebee glanced at her, then fixed her gaze somewhere towards the desert. "There is much about them that I would rather you never have to learn."

A second wave of warmth came to Enfri's face. She realized that she was staring at Deebee's navel. Winds, but this was the most uncomfortable conversation she'd ever had with the dragon. Enfri turned back towards her home. If the chores were done, she should go back inside before the night arrived.

"Allow me to make your tea," Deebee offered. "I've watched you make it enough times that I think I can manage it. I'd almost forgotten how useful it is to have nimble, human fingers. I can use anything a mortal can. It's quite liberating."

"Said the nudist."

"Muttered the sky woman."

"Very well," Enfri sighed, "but I insist you put something on. It's one thing to look at a naked person and something else entirely to have one serving me tea."

"I agree to your terms. Something of your mother's should fit me."

Enfri sighed again. Deebee seemed to be enjoying her human form too much. Perhaps it was Enfri's reaction to it that was the source of her enjoyment. Well, two could play at that game. If the blustering lizard wanted a reaction, Enfri wouldn't give it to her.

She settled back into Grandmother's rocking chair while Deebee rummaged about in a dusty trunk. "You said there was a lot to know about the assassins."

Deebee hummed as a response.

"So, when Goodman Smith talked about eyes of beasts while he was delirious, and when you had the dream that made you return here, you knew what it all meant?"

"I suspected. That's a far cry from knowing."

Enfri lowered her voice. "And, you didn't tell me?"

Deebee's response was muffled by her pulling Mother's finest linen dress over her head.

"One more time, Deebee."

"A moment. Be thankful you're a late bloomer, Enfri. You don't yet know how frustrating a bosom can be."

Of all the cheeky dragons that I could be cursed with.

Enfri refused to let the dragon distract her. "You're evading the question. Why didn't you tell me what your dream was truly about? The assassins weren't a danger in the end, but I would have appreciated some more warning than finding them waiting in my house."

There was a gentle touch on Enfri's shoulder. Deebee, now fully clothed, lay her fingers there. Her amber eyes were sad. "I'm sorry. I really am, but I had my reasons. If I'd known they were here..." She got a fierce look, but it vanished as quickly as it arrived. "Did they frighten you?"

"At first," Enfri admitted. "Yes. I suppose I'm still a bit frightened. The girl named Jin was... She scared me."

"You don't show it." Deebee walked to the hearth and hung a kettle over the fire.

"Fear is the first and greatest foe of a sky woman," Enfri quoted. "Grandmother always said that. Mother, too. They drilled it into me right alongside 'a sky woman must never harm a living thing'. For as long as I can remember, they told me that I had to learn to not be afraid. Fear makes you hesitate when you need to act."

"The mighty could learn much from mortals," Deebee said softly. "Fear is what we've used to preserve ourselves. Since the fall of Shan Alee, we have relied on our fear to warn us of danger, to make us draw back when before we'd have pressed onward."

Enfri swallowed and felt guilty for reminding Deebee of her homeland. "I didn't mean to..."

"Hush, girl. It's no sin of yours."

"Are many of you still..."

"Alive?" Deebee asked. "More than most folk believe. Fewer than I would wish. Shan Alee is gone, but dragons still roam the world. Perhaps not in so great a number as we once did, but the mighty yet endure."

Enfri wrung her hands. Shan Alee. The Empire of Scales, or so it was called in the villagers' stories, always with a note of disdain. Shan Alee, long perished. It was the first land taken by the kings of Althandor. The first of many.

While growing up and visited on occasion by a mysterious creature out of legend and myth, Enfri had listened to Deebee tell stories about the ancestral home of the mighty. While Mother and Grandmother taught Enfri of herbs and maladies, it was Deebee that told her of a wondrous land that once existed. Humans and dragons lived amongst each other in Shan Alee, the Dragon Emperor ruling over them all.

The Dragon Emperors were mortals, humans that were beloved of dragons. Their bloodline was the first one ever blessed by the spirits. Shan Alee's history was intertwined with the origin of magic in the world.

And then, after hundreds of years, Shan Alee fell. Neither emperor or dragon had the power to stem the tide of Althandor's rise. It was now just another lost kingdom that could no longer be found on any map that existed.

"You wish to know," Deebee said. "I can sense your hunger."

"I do," Enfri said.

Deebee made a sound that might have been a sigh. The kettle began to simmer. "About the assassins?"

Enfri nodded. "Yes."

"Their magic is an old one," Deebee said. "Their magic is nearly as old as that of Shan Alee's emperor. Magic is bound within blood, for that is what connects both mortals and the mighty to the world. Blood holds the essence of one's soul, the ether."

"Magic is bound to the blood," Enfri said, remembering something she once heard Mother say. "Reflected in the eyes."

Deebee scoffed. "A silly axiom, but relevant. Not every witch or wizard has glowing eyes or whatever mortals tell each other. Though, beware anyone with red irises. Listen to that much right now and never forget it. Red eyes mean they're a blood mage or even a vampire. Horrible."

The kettle began to sing, and Deebee pulled it from the fire.

"What of a human with a beast's eyes?" Enfri asked.

"That," Deebee said, "comes from the bloodline of Althandor. This Jin who frightens you, she is of royal blood. After spirits gave magic to all mortals, those so blessed became the kings and queens of nations. Some of those elder bloodlines exist to this day."

Deebee placed a teacup into Enfri's hands.

Enfri thanked her and took a sip. The steamy warmth of the raspberry leaf tea had a calming effect on her nerves. "The assassins are all relations of the king?"

"Some more distant than others, I imagine." Deebee sat in the chair next to Enfri. "While the magic they wield is potent and deadly, I doubt the king would be so foolish as to send a crown prince to war. The ones you met were likely of some distant line that Althandor has preserved to serve as assassins."

"They're just arcanists of some kind, then?"

Deebee gave a slow and deliberate shake of her head. "No, girl. Haven't you been listening? These are no mere hedge wizards or paltry scriveners. They have one of the first bloodlines within them. Elder magic. It grants them power and abilities above that of other arcanists. They wield the magic that tore Shan Alee down."

The teacup shook in Enfri's grasp. She held on tightly with both hands to still herself. "What magic?" she asked.

"Osteomancy," Deebee said. "Bone magic. It is a rare talent, and only the Althandor royal bloodline has ever truly mastered it."

Enfri scrunched up her face. Bones? That hardly sounded like something that could challenge a kingdom of dragons. To be completely honest, Enfri was a little disappointed.

"Skeptical?" Deebee asked.

Enfri nodded.

"The shattered bones of the mighty litter the ground of what was once Shan Alee. That's all the evidence we need."

"I'm sorry," Enfri murmured. "It can't be easy for you to talk about. I don't mean to make you relive it."

Deebee cocked an eyebrow. "I never said I was there. How old do you think I am?"

"Well," Enfri said with a laugh, "I remember how offended you got when I was little and called you a baby dragon."

"Ah, yes. I recall."

"But you're just so tiny when you're in your normal form."

Deebee sighed. "As I've said time and again, I'm precisely as large as I need to be. Now, girl, it is getting dark. You should rest."

"I woke up less than an hour ago," Enfri protested. "Winds, I hate missing a night of sleep. Everything gets all flipped about. My day becomes night, my dragon becomes a woman. It's all jumbled."

Deebee smirked at Enfri as she stood. She pulled Mother's dress off over her head and began folding it.

Enfri let out a mortified squeak and avoided looking at her.

"I can help with one of those," Deebee said. "As for the night and the day, that is slightly outside of my power to fix."

When she returned, Deebee was again a tiny dragon with silver scales. She hopped onto Enfri's knee and spread her wings over her back like a cape.

Enfri ran a finger affectionately over her wings. "I missed this version of you. Though, I admit it was nice to talk with another human again."

An odd look came into Deebee's eyes, but it went away again in a heartbeat. Regret, maybe? It passed so quickly that Enfri couldn't be sure.

"It's my fault that you're in this bind."

"What do you mean?" Enfri asked.

Deebee cleared her throat. "I shouldn't have let you sleep so long. It was thoughtless of me. Please, let me do what I can to fix it."

Enfri smiled. "Thank you. It might help if you just talk with me to pass the time. I can try to get back to sleep in a few hours. That might work to get me on the right track again."

"Happily." Deebee bounded to the table then up to the shelves; her manner was like a hyperactive kitten at times. "What would you like to talk of? Not assassins or wars. It wouldn't do to speak of dark things at this hour."

Enfri chewed at her lip as she thought about it. There was plenty she didn't know about Deebee. One thing more than anything else begged to be asked. "You said you promised Father that you'd look out for me?"

"I did," the dragon replied cautiously. This was probably inching close to things she didn't want to talk about.

"I guess I would just like to know why you agreed to it. I grew up taking the fact that a dragon popped in now and again for granted. I didn't realize until I was older that it was out of the ordinary to have a Deebee."

"I suppose that's a fair question." Deebee curled up on the shelf above the hearth. "I could tell you my stake in all this."

Enfri grinned. She hadn't expected the dragon to agree so easily. "You will?"

"Yes, yes. It's not as if it's a secret."

"If that's so," Enfri said accusingly, "why has no one ever told me? Mother tried to pretend you didn't exist. If I brought it up to Grandmother, there was suddenly some urgent task in the garden for me."

Deebee gave a tiny growl of displeasure. "Those two... Janwyn was much too smart for such nonsense, but I suppose she was dealing with things in the best way she knew how. Mierwyn, however, was a sackful of spite by her end. Your mother changed so much in the time I knew her."

That nearly rocked Enfri out of her chair. "You knew Mother that well?"

"I should say so!" Deebee exclaimed. "Winds, but they never told you anything, did they? Very well, girl. Change into your nightdress, and I'll tell you about your family's history with me."

Enfri was so excited at the prospect that she managed to get out of the rocking chair on her first try.

"Let us see," Deebee said to herself. "Where to start? Only the important details, I suppose, or we could be up until dawn. You don't need another lost night."

Enfri prepared herself for the night, her heart glowing. She felt like a little girl again. It had been so long since she last listened to Deebee the Storyteller. The dragon had a talent for it.

When Mother was gone to treat someone in the village and Enfri was left behind in her grandmother's care, Deebee would sometimes make one of her rare appearances. Enfri would curl up next to the fire while Grandmother sat in her chair, either knitting or writing in her notebooks. Those wonderful nights were the brightest memories Enfri had.

For those nights, Enfri was permitted to hear of things other than sicknesses and treatments. A dragon's voice and a little girl's imagination created entire worlds in Enfri's mind.

"I'll get started while you wash up," Deebee said. She got a mischievous gleam in her eye and a wicked smile. "Pay attention, now. This story is important because it's about me."