A/N: Re-upload. Thanks to Sleuthy for the constructive criticism, and to everyone who's sent in reviews!

Chapter 10: Sarralyn

I woke up, and for a horrible moment I thought I was in that storehouse again. There was a weight on my shoulders and my arms ached. I struggled to wake up, blearily pushing off the weight, and it was only when I felt the softness of cloth against my hands that I realised I was fighting off a blanket.

Figures. I thought, I couldn't save myself from a kidnapper, but I can cursed-well fight off a piece of cloth! I couldn't help remembering that the first time Mama saw me after I declared I could take on the world by myself, I was as useless as a kitten. No, more useless. It was a mouse that rescued me, after all, not a cat. What's frailer than a mouse?

My shoulders felt bruised from being tied, and there were rope burns on my wrists. I could see them, red and swollen, when I pushed myself upright. I was in a room I didn't recognise, having fought off a blanket that was not my own. The curtains were pulled shut, but the soft greyish light of the early morning seeped through the edges. The room spun, and when I rested my head in my hands I could feel the softness of a bandage under my fingertips. When I tentatively touched the wound it tingled with the odd warmth of a magical healing.

I couldn't remember being healed. But then, since I didn't know where I was, there must have been a lot of things I'd slept through. I wondered why they only healed my head, and then bit my lip at the selfish thought. Healers are expensive, after all. Lolla probably had to cut my wages for the next month to afford any healing at all.

I swung my legs around to stand up, and froze. There was a... a something... curled up on the floor. Not a dog or a cat, but some kind of lizard. I held my breath. It hadn't seen me yet. Maybe if I stayed very still, it wouldn't realise I was here. I must have made some noise though- a gasp, perhaps- because it shifted in its sleep. It uncurled a long neck and yawned, stretching its paws forwards like a sleepy dog. I gaped at it.

Dragon. It's a dragon. For some reason, a dragon is asleep on the floor.

No- not the floor. A cushion. A very comfortable dragon, then, is asleep on a cushion, on the floor.

Perhaps it was the dragon's room. I hoped it didn't mind my being there. It stopped stretching and climbed to its feet, blinking blearily at the room. When it caught sight of me it whistled and bounded, like an excited puppy, to put its head in my lap. I half-shrieked and shoved it off.

The dragon's manic glee faded, and it looked confused for a moment. With a movement that I would have sworn was a shrug if it hadn't come from a dragon, it turned away and grabbed its cushion in its teeth. I waited, expecting it to tear the thing to shreds, but instead it carefully dragged it to a low shelf and stored it there, nudging it safely in place with its nose. Then it turned around again.

This time it walked up to me slowly, and stopped before it was too close. It tilted its head to one side, asking me a question. I remembered the sharp silver teeth I saw biting the cushion, and thought about how they hadn't even left a mark in the cloth. Now that it was moving slowly, the dragon wasn't that scary. I reached out a hand to it, barely believing it when the immortal nuzzled its head against my fingertips. Its scales were warm and soft, not at all like I would have imagined.

"I thought you dragons were supposed to sleep on piles of treasure?" I whispered. The dragon made a scoffing noise and then looked fondly in the direction of the cushion. The action made me smile. "Yes, you're right- that does look more comfortable!"

Perhaps I'm still asleep, I thought. It certainly seemed like a dream.

I still had no idea where I was, though. The dragon started looking towards the door and back to me. We'd apparently had the same idea. I told it that I couldn't go exploring in a nightshirt, and it immediately ran to the shelf and whistled at something there- my bag.

Fine. So, whoever brought me here also went to the 'Dove and got my things. I guess it wasn't the dragon.

Even if this was a dream, it wouldn't hurt to be careful. I took out my travelling clothes rather than one of the dresses I wore at the Dove. If I decided to leave, I was going to make sure I could disappear as easily as possible. Dresses are too easy to snag on things. Even if my legs wobbled when I stood up, at least they wouldn't get tangled in cloth.

The dragon whistled at me impatiently as I tied my belt-purse on. It had been pacing by the door since I stood up. I opened the door tentatively, and nearly gasped at the room on the other side.

I hadn't seen my room properly in the half-light, but this room had no curtains to hold the dawn at bay. The light streamed through the windows- glass windows! They were deep-set in the stone walls. Instead of curtains, the windows had painted shutters which stood open. The paint wasn't gaudy like the shutters the mountain folk favoured, but simple colours which matched the doors and the walls. The room was large enough to hold a solid wooden table and a few comfortable-looking chairs. But what was really astonishing about the room was that it was full of books. They were everywhere. On the table, on the shelves, on the chairs... even strewn carelessly on the floor. It was a king's ransom in paper and ink.

I forgot that I was trying to work out where I was, and picked up the nearest book. It had an embossed cover, and when I opened the first page it was gorgeously illuminated. I couldn't work out what it was talking about at all; for a book that was so beautifully illustrated, the writer seemed to want to use as many boring words as possible! I stopped trying to read it, but couldn't bear to put the beautiful thing back on the floor. Strangely, most of the shelves were completely empty. I supposed whoever had been reading the books wasn't good at putting them back where they belonged.

So, I decided to tidy up. But it was difficult- so difficult- because every book that I picked up might have had a thousand new stories in it. I couldn't resist peeking into each one before I put it back on the shelf. Most of them seemed to be books on magic.

Now, who did I know who would live in such a wealthy home, and who would be so interested in magic? Of course, I had worked out whose home I was in. But some part of me didn't want to admit that, so I didn't think about it. If I started thinking about that, I'd have to start thinking about why he owned a dragon, and why he would have brought me here. I'd have to start thinking about what Jak had said. The thought of remembering anything about Jak made me feel sick. So I didn't.

I concentrated on the books. Or I tried. When they were all tidied away I curled up on one of the chairs and read one of the more interesting ones. The dragon jumped up and curled up in my lap, winning the cushion by jabbing me with its elbows every time it shifted. When it was comfortable it fell back asleep, purring lazily when I stroked its head.

The door clicked, and the dragon's head snapped upright so quickly it sent the book flying. It made an apologetic noise, and whistled an odd sound to Numair when he walked through.

"Why do you sound sad, Dragon?" I asked it quietly. It made the shrugging motion again and rested its head against my chest affectionately.

"I'm not who she was expecting," Numair explained. I panicked for a split second, wondering if he'd be angry I moved his books, but when he noticed the neat room he smiled. "You'll have to forgive me, I always forget to tidy. I believe the maids have given up on me."

"This is the palace?" I asked. He nodded and put down the bag he was carrying. When he opened it and took out a fresh loaf of bread I suddenly realised I was starving. My stomach rumbled so loudly that the dragon sat up, startled at the sound. When she sniffed the bread she jumped down from my lap, but to my surprise she didn't run to the food but stayed close, looking at me beseechingly.

"I tried to take her with me when I went to get food, but she wouldn't leave you," Numair said, his voice apologetic. "I'm sorry if she scared you. She won't hurt you, I promise."

The dragon made an annoyed noise- the very idea! I smiled at her and scratched her head. "What's her name?"

He looked away, and then busied himself looking for a knife. If the rest of his home was in the same state as his bookshelves I wouldn't have been surprised if he ended up trying to break the bread with a hammer. "You already know her name," he said, "It's the first thing you ever told me."

And there it was. Not an admission, but as close to the truth as we'd ever been. I stared at him blankly, and then started laughing.

"You..." I started, and then had to smother another giggle. "You're the black mage? You?"

He handed me a piece of bread and sat down in the other chair, his eyes wary. "Well, it's an interesting question, isn't it? If you mean, am I the legendary hero that people tell stories about, then certainly not. I can't fly without shape shifting, and I can't level whole armies just by glaring at them. Although I do like some of the descriptions, I have to admit. Very flattering."

The dragon- Skysong, I guess- made a rude squawk at that, and he pulled a face at her. When he looked back at me he noticed I wasn't eating and gestured at the food.

"Eat." He said gently, "You must be starving."

I picked at the bread and gave a piece to the dragon. As hungry as I was, I couldn't bring myself to eat it. All my words had tangled up in a lump in my throat, and were so painful that I couldn't leave them unspoken.

"Can...can I tell you what happened?" I asked.

"You don't have to," He told me, without the quickness most people would dismiss the idea with. I guess he had a look of practice speaking to people like that- it must be part of his job. The thought silenced me for long minutes, but when I started speaking I found that the words came out easily.

I told Numair everything that had happened- even the argument that I'd had with Lolla, and my stupid besotted thoughts about Jak. I told him about waking up in that building, and the things that my kidnapper had told me. He listened in silence, asking a few questions whenever I stumbled over the story, but not saying anything more than that. I didn't look up to see his face- I didn't want to think of him thinking badly of me, but so much of what had happened was my fault that I knew he would blame me. I hesitated before telling him about my rescue, and in the end told him that the twine had frayed on its own, letting me escape.

"I remember calling out to you in the woods, and then," I shrugged. "I woke up here. What happened?"

"I thought you'd be safer here. I should never have left you alone in the first place," I wondered if I just imagined the bitterness in his voice, because it quickly changed to an angrier tone. "That maggot ran off down-river, we think. We couldn't find his tracks. So I brought you home. The healer couldn't make his magic work well on you, so we thought it best to just let you sleep."

I mulled this over. There were a lot of things in that story that my muddled mind couldn't really concentrate on, but one thing stood out. "You didn't catch him? He's still out there? But I thought that was what you do!"

"Some of the men from the Dove are still looking. They're furious that you were taken from their headquarters so easily. But no, I'll not be joining them. I was too angry to think clearly- to help them- and it's more important that you're safe than that he's punished... at present." His expression darkened, and for a second I could see why Jak was scared of him. "If they find him before I have a chance to, they've promised to bring me back his ears."

"Good." I said, and was surprised by the lightness in my own voice. We were talking about maiming someone, and my first thought was: "Good. We can have one each."

He darted a look at me, surprised out of his dark mood, and abruptly laughed. I frowned, thinking he was mocking me, but he shook his head in an explanation before I could say anything.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Sometimes you really do remind me of someone else."

I tried to smile with him, but the word made a sudden chill run down my spine. Sweetheart. It was the word which Mama had used for me, and suddenly I wondered where she was. I wasn't even sure if she'd really been there- but I don't think my imagination would have summoned details as bizarre as the green veil of a priestess, and a strange creature made out of shadows. Remembering the creature bounding after her, teeth slathered with strange watery darkness, made me feel ill. It was a strange feeling, as if someone had tied a string to my heart and pulled it tightly away from me. When I shut my eyes, I could almost see the dark glowing cord piercing my chest.

I didn't have a clue what the creature was, but I knew instinctively that it was dangerous. I wondered if the people blundering about looking for Jak would be able to see it. I wondered if it was some strange kind of immortal that had attached itself to mama- in the same way that mice and birds had always done. I wondered why it felt so evil.

Was that what mama wanted me to tell Numair about? How could I even begin to describe it?

I decided that if I was going to tell him anything, I should start by telling him why I was kidnapped. It was odd that he didn't seem to care whyeverything had happened. The man was leaving me to my thoughts, taking yet more books out of his bag and storing them on the table. He didn't even look curious. His silence annoyed me.

"You should have told me who you are." My voice was very quiet, very bitter. It sounded like it was coming from another person. "He... Jak... he kidnapped me because of you. He was going to ransom me. He must have seen us together. He...he thought you were my da."

"I am."