Dragon Airways by Brian Rathbone Page A

waters warmer than the baths at Sparrowport. A pair of saltbark trees grew in deep, swift water, jutting out into the flow. Swirling vortices danced in the waters just beyond the stiltlike root systems, which supported the trees and provided hiding places for fish, eels, and snakes. Emmet watched for signs of life in the upper leaves also. As he had before, he sensed a presence within the tree and was overwhelmed by the feeling of being loved and cared for. When he picked the leaves, he knew he did so with permission, which made him feel much better. The leaves weren't for him; they were for the dragon. She needed them.
    As if his thoughts were heard, the tree responded by shifting in the breeze and offering up the largest bunch of leaves Emmet had seen in their three days of harvesting. When Emmet handed them to the captain, he stopped and marveled at the bundle before placing them in his basket. A long stretch of knotted scrub dominated the shoreline, and only a single saltbark tree clung to life there. The captain hesitated, perhaps considering whether enduring the cold water and currents was worth it. Emmet silently urged him to go. The tree seemed so lonely.
    For whatever reason, the tall man waded into waters almost up to his neck. The shoreline beyond was rocky and nothing grew. This was the last tree in the saltbark grove. The captain couldn't do much but hold on to Emmet and keep the basket dry. Emmet did his best to be quick about harvesting what the tree offered, but the tree wanted him to stay. The dragon needed the leaves the tree offered, but the tree needed him. He could feel it. No words were used, only emotions, which Emmet clearly understood. Placing his hands around the trunk, he let the tree touch him as well. Leaves brushed against his hair, and branches rested on his shoulders.
    Emotions rushed in and Emmet did nothing to stop the tears flowing down his face. He would have stayed, could have stayed forever. When the captain used two fingers to break his grip on the tree, he felt anger and resentment, but the man trembled beneath him. He didn't know how much time had passed—time really wasn't his thing—but the skies had grown dark. Any longer and it would be a dangerous walk and swim back to camp.
    In spite of all that, Emmet wanted to stay, wanted to help this poor, lonely soul who so selflessly gave. He allowed the captain to pull him away, though, and as his hands left the delicate bark, he felt something in his palm. It was a brown teardrop-shaped seed streaked with white stripes.
    "Friend," he said without meaning to.
    The captain patted him on the leg and moved toward the center of the channel, but Emmet protested, reaching and pointing to a place along the shoreline between the pair of saltbark trees and the one all on its own. At first the captain resisted and followed his original course, but Emmet squirmed and kicked to convey the urgency. After grabbing Emmet's legs to stop him from kicking, the man turned and moved toward where Emmet pointed. Nothing grew there and the captain was a bit perturbed until Emmet showed him the seed. The tall man stopped and marveled, questions flowing in silence. But then he seemed to know what he must do. Lifting the boy from his shoulders with one hand, he lowered him into the water. Emmet knew what he had to do as well.
    After sucking in a deep breath, he plunged into the cold water headfirst and eyes open. No matter the burn of salty water and the rays that scattered on his approach, Emmet reached into the sandy bottom and burrowed. In the impression he created, he placed the seed before packing the sand back over it. The captain held him by the breeches, ready to pull Emmet up any second, but the boy was not quite finished yet.
    Placing both hands over the sand, he sent emotions to the seed, hoping to return the kindness the tree had shown him. Colorful fish in bright yellows and blues gathered around him now, as if drawn by the energy. It felt as if they