"Yeah, but we haven't even looked through half of it," Winnie pointed out. "And since you and Galen are the only ones who can read the writing, the parts Nissa and I have gone through don't really count."
There was definitely a lot of work left. Keller stifled a sigh and said briskly, "Well, we don't need to worry about killing the dragon right now. If we can fight him off long enough to get through the promise ceremony, we can worry about destroying him afterward. Winnie, why don't you and Nissa start trying to figure out a way to protect Iliana at the party Saturday? And Galen and I can stay up tonight and read through these scrolls."
Winnie looked concerned. "Boss, you're trying to do too much. If you don't sleep sometime, you're going to start cracking up."
I'll sleep on Sunday," Keller said firmly. "When it's all over."
Keller had meant that she and Galen could study the scrolls separately that night. But when everybody else headed for their bedrooms, he stayed in the family room with her and watched the eleven o'clock news. More animal attacks.
Keller pulled out her pile of scroll fragments. It was her way of saying good night, and much easier than looking at him.
But he just said quietly, "I'll get my half," and brought them out.
Keller felt uncomfortable. It wasn't that she could find any fault with what he was doing. He was studying his pieces of scroll intently and letting her do the same.
But every now and then, he would look at her. She could feel his eyes on her, feel that they were serious and steady and that he was waiting for her to look up.
She never did.
And he never said anything. After a while, he would always go back to his parchments. They worked on and on in silence.
Still, Keller was aware of him. She couldn't help it She was a panther; she could sense the heat of his body even three feet away. She could smell him, too, and he smelled good. Clean and a little bit like the soap he used, and even more like himself, which was something warm and golden and healthy. Like a puppy with a nice coat on a summer afternoon.
It was very, very distracting. Sometimes the words on the scrolls blurred in front of her eyes. But worst of all, worse than feeling his heat or smelling his scent or knowing his eyes were on her, was something more subtle that she couldn't exactly define. A connection. A sense of tension between them that she could almost touch. The air was buzzing with it. It lifted up the little hairs on Keller's arms. And no matter how she tried to will it away, it only seemed to grow and grow. Somehow the silence made it worse, made it more profound. I have to say something, Keller thought.
Something casual, to show that I'm not affected.
She stared at the scrolls, which she was beginning to hate. If only she could find something useful... Then she saw it. Right there on the scroll she was studying.
"Galen. There's something here-in a copy of the oldest records about dragons. It's talking about what the dragons can do, what their powers are besides the dark energy."
She read from the scroll, hesitating on words that were less familiar to her. " 'A dragon has only to touch an animal and it is able to assume that animal's form, know all that the animal knows, do all that the animal can do. There is no'-I think it says 'limit'-'on the number of shapes it can master. Therefore, it is a true shapeshifter and the only one worthy of the name.' I told you this stuff was old," she added. "I think the original was written by the dragons' press agent during the war."
" 'No limit on the number of shapes it can master,'" Galen repeated with growing excitement. "That makes sense, you know. That's what the First House has inherited, only in a diluted form. Being able to pick whichever shape we want to become- but only the first time. After that, we're stuck with it, of course."
"Do you have to touch an animal to learn its shape?"
He nodded. "That's how we choose. But if a dragon can touch anything and assume its shape- and change over and over..." His voice trailed off. "Yeah. It's going to be awfully difficult to spot them,"
Keller said. The tension in the air had been somewhat discharged by talking, and she felt a little calmer. At least she could talk without the words sticking in her throat.
But Galen wasn't helping. He leaned closer, peering down at her scroll. "I wonder if it says anything else, anything about how to identify... wait. Keller, look down here at the bottom."
To do it, she had to bend her head so that his hair brushed her cheek. "What?"
"Horns, something about horns," he muttered almost feverishly. "You're better at translating than I am. What's this word?"
" "Regardless'? No, it's more like 'no matter.'" She began to read. " 'But no matter what form it takes, a dragon may always be known-'" " 'By its horns,'" he chimed in, reading with her. They finished together, helping each other. "'A dragon has from one to three horns on its forehead, and in some rare cases four. These horns'"-both their voices rose-" 'which are the seat of its power are most cruelly removed by the witches who capture them, to steal from them the power of changing.'"
They both stopped. They kept staring at the parchment for what seemed endless minutes to
Keller. Galen was gripping her wrist so hard that it hurt.
Then he said softly, "That's it. That's the answer."
He looked up at her and gave her wrist a little shake. "That's the answer. Keller, we did it; we found it."
"Shh! You're going to wake up the whole house." But she was almost as shaky with excitement as he was. "Let me think. Yeah, that guy Azhdeha could have had horns. His hair was all messy, covering his forehead, and I remember thinking that was a little strange. The rest of him looked so neat."