Chapter Twenty-Nine: Comfort

Nidhogg rarely—well, fine, seeing the Little White Dragon cry wasn’t rare anymore. But she had never seen Lilith cry like this.

Willow-soft in the waist, thorn-hard in the mouth, the proud little dragon never cried in front of the Black Dragon. Even when her tear ducts mutinied, she’d grit through grief and let only a few drops fall.

Like this—curled in Nidhogg’s arms and sobbing her heart out—Nidhogg had never imagined seeing on Lilith.

“Uu-uu. I—I thought you didn’t want me anymore.” The Little White Dragon wept like blossoms beaten by spring rain, tear tracks glossing her delicate face. Her voice hitched as she cried and, in that soft, sticky way of hers, scolded Nidhogg. “I kept looking for you—sob—looking and looking, but—sob—I just couldn’t find you. And—uu—”

“Then—cough—then that fox just jumped out. Sob. She bit me. It hurt, it hurt so bad—uuuu.” Lilith babbled through tears. Nidhogg remembered how much the little dragon feared pain. She looked down at Lilith’s mangled calf. The White Dragon’s healing was excellent; with the Taint riding it, it was almost on par with a Black Dragon’s. Even so, Nidhogg still saw clots of Taint wriggling under that slender leg, knitting meat and bone. That kind of repair meant the injury had been savage. Lilith couldn’t explain it; Nidhogg could still picture enough to make her chest tighten. She didn’t dare imagine how much it had hurt.

“Uu-uu, it hurt so much. Why—cough—why didn’t you come? Sob. I thought—I thought I was going to die—uu.” Lilith broke apart in words Nidhogg had never heard from her. The stubborn Little White Dragon, even scared, usually showed it with her hands, not her mouth. This was the first time Nidhogg heard fear, clear and small, from Lilith’s own lips.

The tiny White Dragon was white as paper, all color bled out. Several gashes, plugged with her Taint, still seeped when she moved, painting her from neck to heel in wet red. It was frightening.

When she got worked up, she coughed—and every cough splashed a mouthful of blood across her blue-and-white cloak. Weakness ran through her on every level. Her crying softened to whimpers, yet her small body kept trembling. Blood loss chilled her like a winter river. And with her mind unmoored, she wasn’t steering the Taint to treat herself at all.

A knot of panic, then purpose. This couldn’t go on. Nidhogg had to quiet her.

So, while the little dragon cried, Nidhogg lowered her head and caught Lilith’s lips.

The little one’s lips were soft—like cotton candy fallen from the sky, like the handful of snow Nidhogg once snatched by the trail when she followed the White Dragon to the highest peak of the Dragon Territory. Cold as a dream, soft as cloud.

Lilith tasted like rain. As if the downpour had soaked into her bones, she always carried that scent: the clean, damp air after endless rain. And there was her favorite lavender shampoo, braided through it. Nidhogg had memorized that scent until it lived behind her eyes.

But this kiss wasn’t her usual flavor. It was edged with blood.

Lilith had just coughed a mouthful up; some lingered on her tongue. As they kissed, the taste of White Dragon blood rose from her mouth. Strange, almost wrong—if it hadn’t been Lilith. But Nidhogg coveted every taste of her, whether it was blood or that rain-soaked body-warmth.

“Sorry. I came too late. But calm down first, okay? You need to heal.” After the kiss, the storm inside Lilith eased. Nidhogg let the little dragon breathe. She cradled Lilith’s head in both hands, settled the tiny girl astride her lap, and looked into those clear blue eyes. Her voice went steady and gentle.

“Hic.” Lilith blinked, dazed, and gave a tiny nod. Nidhogg saw it, slid a hand to her waist, and took her right wrist with the other. “Follow me,” she said, careful, focused. “Wherever I place your hand, you send the Taint there. Okay?”

Lilith didn’t answer, but she nodded again.

With that, Nidhogg guided her. From the wide gash across her chest, down to the snapped calf. Calmer now, Lilith followed Nidhogg’s lead. The wounds sealed enough that her breathing no longer made them leak.

“Where did you go?” she asked once the worst of it closed. Fresh from tears, her voice was soft and sweet, like a warm rice dumpling. The Black Dragon didn’t dare take a bite—afraid a single nibble might chip this precious thing.

“I jumped down and someone with space magic shifted me away,” Nidhogg said. “I went to find Litt and Abaddon first. I’ve moved them to the safest place.”

“Good.” Lilith nodded. She’d worried about those two as well. But she’d almost gotten herself sent off, so maybe she had no right to fret over anyone else.

“On my way back to you, trouble found me,” Nidhogg said, annoyed at herself. “Didn’t think the detour would eat so much time. I almost missed you.”

“I almost didn’t see you again,” Lilith said, still shaken. She patted her chest and told the Black Dragon, “I was this close to being killed by that Reaper Fragment. Lucky me—I’m still here, aren’t I?”