“Skymaw,” Thymara supplied helpfully. “The dragon’s name is Skymaw.”

“She told you her name?” Tats was astounded.

Thymara was irritated at the interruption. “Skymaw is what I call her,” she amended, giving him a glare. “Everyone knows that dragons don’t tell their real names immediately.”

“Yes, that’s what my dragon told me, too. Only she didn’t ask me to give her a name to use.” He smiled foolishly. “She’s such a beauty, Thymara. Green as emeralds, green as sunlight through leaves. Her eyes are like, well, I don’t have words. She’s a bad-tempered little thing, though. I accidentally stepped on her toe and she threatened to kill and eat me!”

“Wait, please.” It was the stranger’s turn to interrupt them. “Please. Both of you. You are saying that you talk to the dragons? Just as we are talking right now?”

Only Sedric didn’t feel like a stranger to her anymore. She smiled at him. “Of course we do.”

“They move their mouths and the words come out and you hear them? Just as we are talking together now? Then why do I hear rumbles and moos and hisses, and you hear words?”

“Well—” She hesitated, realizing she hadn’t thought about how she “heard” the dragons.

“No, of course not.” Tats barged in again. “Their mouths are all wrong for shaping words like we do. They make sounds, and somehow I understand what they are saying. Even though they aren’t speaking a human language.”

“Did it take you long to learn their language? Did you study it before you came here?” Sedric asked.

“No.” Tats shook his head decisively. “When I first got here, I picked out my dragon and walked up to her, and I could understand her. Mine is the green female. She’s not as big as some of the others, but I think she’s prettier. Also, she’s fast and other than her wings, I think she’s pretty much perfectly formed. She’s a bit feisty; she says the others say she’s mean and avoid her. She says it’s because she’s fast enough to get to the food first almost every time. They’re jealous.”

“Or perhaps they just think she’s greedy,” Thymara suggested. Time to take control of this conversation. After all, Sedric hadn’t followed Tats into the woods to speak to him, even if he now seemed to be hanging on every word the boy spoke. “I’ve been able to understand the dragons since they hatched,” she told the Bingtown man. “I was here that day. And even when they weren’t looking at me directly, I could feel what they were thinking, even as they were coming out of their logs. And communicate with them.” She smiled. “One of the hatchlings went after my dad. I had to insist that he wasn’t food.”

“A dragon wanted to eat your father?” Sedric seemed horrified.

“They had just come out of their cases. He was confused.” She cast her mind back, remembering. “They were so hungry when they came out. And they weren’t as strong as they should have been or as well formed. I think the sea serpents were too old and not as fat as they should have been, and they didn’t stay encased long enough. And that’s why these dragons aren’t healthy and can’t fly.”

“Can’t fly yet,” Tats amended. He grinned. “You saw Rapskal. He’s determined that his dragon is going to fly. He’s crazy, of course. But after I watched them, well, I was looking at my green’s wings. They’re well shaped, but just small and not very strong. She told me that dragons keep growing for as long as they live. All parts of them grow—necks, legs, tails, and, yes, wings. I’m thinking that if I feed her right and she keeps trying to use them, maybe her wings will grow and she will be able to fly.”

Thymara regarded him in astonishment. She had just accepted the dragons as they were; it had not occurred to her that perhaps they might become full dragons as they grew. Now she reconsidered Skymaw’s wings. They had seemed floppy when she had cleaned them, and Skymaw had not been very helpful about unfolding them for grooming. She didn’t think Skymaw could move them much. A surge of envy raced through her; was it possible that Tats’s green dragon might eventually gain flight while Skymaw remained earthbound?

“But you can understand what they say, word for word?” Sedric seemed intent on dragging them back to his own concern about the dragons. When Thymara nodded, he asked, “So when you said those things to me, you weren’t making them up? You were actually translating what the dragon was trying to say to me?”