Laika Belle's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

They rode north half a day. The staghound picked its way through brush that hadn't been cut in years. Laika kept her hands on the saddle and said nothing. Felicette hummed the same three notes over and over. When the trees opened, Laika saw a stone house with a sagging roof and ivy in the windows. A painted sign hung crooked over the door. Wildrest Haven, it read. A lantern glowed above the arch, though it was still afternoon. "Sanctuary," Felicette said. She swung down and unlatched the gate. "Used to be run proper. Now it's mostly me when I pass through. Animals still come." She looked back at Laika. "You'll feed them. That's the whole job. No talking required. Watch what they do and answer with your hands." Laika slid off the staghound. Her knees shook. Felicette pushed open the door and the smell hit first — hay, warm fur, something sweeter underneath. Stalls lined the back wall. In the nearest one, a small dragon curled on a blanket. Its fur shifted colors like a night sky. It lifted its head and stared at Laika with red eyes. "That one won't eat for strangers," Felicette said. "Been three days. Try her." Laika froze. "I don't know how." Felicette pulled a wooden crate down from a shelf. Brushes, cloths, a scoop, small jars. She pressed the scoop into Laika's hand and pointed to a bin of dried berries. "Fill it. Sit outside the stall. Don't look at her. Don't reach. Just wait." Laika filled the scoop. She sat on the straw with her back against the stall post and set the scoop on the ground beside her. She looked at the wall. Her tail wanted to lash. She pinned it under her leg. Minutes passed. She heard the dragon shift. Claws on wood. A slow sniff. Laika kept her eyes on a knot in the plank across from her and counted to a hundred. She counted again. Her shoulders came down a finger's width. Something warm touched her wrist. A snout. The dragon ate from the scoop while Laika held still. Not one berry fell. When the scoop was empty, the dragon pushed its head under Laika's palm and stayed there. Laika breathed out. She had not said a word. The animal had not needed one. Her hand knew what to do without asking her mouth. Felicette watched from the doorway. She did not smile, but her ears turned forward. "Good," she said. "Tomorrow you do the chimera. He kicks." Laika laughed. The sound surprised her. It came out rough, but it came out. She stayed with the dragon until dusk. She would learn the animals first. When she went back to people, she would already know how to listen with her hands.