Lupi 04 - Night Season

than a hundred, actually, since she’d checked again every time they set down to pick up one of the strays. Which was undoubtedly why she was so fucking tired now. She’d done a full cast each time, which meant doing a fresh Find over and over and over. But Cynna figured that when you bargained with dragons, you’d better be extra sure you kept your end of the deal. “Don’t forget that I’ll need my bag back.”
    The denim bag dangled incongruously from Mika’s mouth. Once Cynna had put the first scale in it, he’d insisted on holding onto it himself.
    The dragon turned, shifting his bulk as fluidly as a cat. You will come with me and put my scales where I want them. Then you may have the bag.
    Cullen had said Mika had been redecorating. That was one way to describe it. Wholesale destruction was another, though Cynna supposed the new design was more functional for a dragon than the old one had been.
    Carter Barron Amphitheatre used to provide tiered seating for about four thousand concertgoers. Only the topmost row or two of seats remained. The rest had been ripped up and piled like makeshift dikes on two sides of the concrete slope, the lower portion of which was now buried in dirt.
    That’s where they’d landed, on hard-packed dirt. Mika had built himself a level spot in front of his lair for landings, takeoffs, sunbathing, whatever. The level area dropped off abruptly into the deep darkness of what used to be a large stage, walled on three sides and with a lofty roof.
    Mika simply flowed down the dirt bank onto the stage. Cullen jumped, landing lightly. Cynna might have managed a dignified descent if her leg muscles hadn’t been so overworked from her dragon ride. As it was, she slid the last few feet and landed in a dusty thump. “Shit.”
    â€œYou okay?” Cullen crouched beside her, the mage light hovering over his shoulder.
    â€œYeah.” She stood and brushed off some of the dirt, looking around. Mostly she saw dragon. Mika didn’t occupy every inch of the space. Just most of them.
    The quiet meow made Cynna jump—and stare. A small gray tabby had appeared out of nowhere and was rubbing itself against one of the dragon’s thick forelegs. “What the hell—?”
    â€œMika’s cat,” Cullen said. “Though I believe the cat sees things the other way around, and Mika is her dragon.”
    Mika’s jaw opened, revealing teeth a great white shark would envy. Cynna’s bag fell to the floor. Mika’s tongue flicked out and stroked the cat. Who purred. For a moment the two beasts regarded each other, then the cat turned away, flirting her tail before she shot up the dirt incline to vanish in the darkness.
    â€œThat’s…” Cynna’s voice trailed off. “Dragons don’t have pets. Do they? That cat…some of Mika’s scales are bigger than her whole body.”
    â€œI wouldn’t call her a pet. They have an understanding.”
    Mika, too, had turned. I want my scales in this corner with my dust.
    The dust Mika spoke of wasn’t the same sort covering Cynna’s jeans. It was gold dust. The dragons had never explained why they wanted it or what they did with it, but each of them received seven ounces of pure gold dust a month as part of their payment for living where humans needed them to live.
    Cynna exchanged another glance with Cullen, then grabbed her bag. The two of them made their way past yards and yards of sleek, scaled dragon flesh. Mika was facing the corner he’d indicated, his head lowered almost to the floor to look at four small foam containers like dollhouse ice chests. Three of the containers were lidded; the fourth was open.
    Wait , he told them.
    A low, throbbing note filled the space. Her mind clicked off and her whole body strained as if trying to open itself to the sound. Ears alone weren’t enough to absorb the unearthly beauty of dragonsong.
    Almost as soon as he’d begun, Mika stopped.
    Cynna sighed in disappointment. Rule had told her about how the dragons used to gather in Dis to sing together. In this realm they lived more scattered, but Lily and Rule both believed they still gathered and sang.
    It is open now. Put them here, next to my dust.
    Cynna shook herself out of her near-trance and knelt beside the little foam chests. Sometimes dragons sang for dragon reasons, which might or might not be the reasons humans made music. Sometimes