Chapter 8 #4
When Tori was in a safe location, Baldewin carefully pulled open the door, his shoulders instantly relaxing.
Warin walked inside, his arms full of bags and containers of food.
It was easily enough to feed a dozen people.
Rich smells filled the air, and Tori’s stomach took the opportunity to growl loudly.
“Ha! I thought I’d bought too much,” Warin laughed.
“You did. Are there more dragons or mages hiding on the ferry I don’t know about?” Tori teased. Both dragons stared at him in surprise for a moment as Tori replayed the words in his head, wondering what he’d said that was so surprising.
But it wasn’t so much what he’d said, rather how he’d said it.
He’d teased them. For the first time ever.
No sarcasm or biting comments. Just playful teasing.
Did that mean he was starting to trust them?
Maybe the hope he was clinging to from Cameron was starting to bleed into how he viewed his traveling companions.
They weren’t all that bad for dragons. They’d tossed plenty of playful, teasing comments at each other since Tori had come to stay with them. And they’d always treated him with respect, even if Baldewin was determined to keep feeding him.
Yeah, maybe the dragons were okay.
Tori leapt forward and started pulling some of the containers from Warin’s arms, spreading them about the small, circular table.
There were warm sandwiches, a couple bowls of soup, a salad, and even a container filled with six Karelian pies.
Dear heaven, he wasn’t going to be able to walk off the ferry.
Baldewin would have to carry him to dry land.
“Definitely no dragons. I might have sniffed around the ferry before going to the restaurants. No other mages that I could smell, either.”
Tori stopped in the middle of pulling yet another box free from a paper bag and frowned at the dragon. “Are you saying I smell?”
Warin flashed him a crooked grin. “Well, certainly not how you’re taking it.” He leaned closer to Tori and drew in a deep breath before releasing a happy sigh. “Magic. All mages smell like magic, even if they’ve never cast a spell in their life.”
Tori’s heart fluttered a little, and his gaze darted over to Baldewin, who was nodding. How could he possibly not know this about himself? Mages smelled like magic to dragons. Was that like catnip to a feline?
“What’s magic smell like?”
“Lightning,” Warin answered.
“Not quite. The charged air before lightning strikes. Fresh and clean. You smell like energy and hope.”
“I can’t say I have any idea what hope smells like, but the rest sounds nice,” Tori replied. “Right now, all I can smell are Karelian pies. Let’s eat.”
Food was quickly divided up, though with these two large men, it wasn’t too much of a surprise that everyone ended up eating a little bit of everything.
Tori explained the food as they went. The dragons clearly hadn’t spent much time in Finland, at least not in a very long time. Warin moaned over the rye and rice porridge pie more than once and asked if Tori would help their head chefs figure out how to make them at the castle.
It was a nice thought, possibly starting fresh in a new place, while at the same time, managing to bring back one of the few things from his home that he enjoyed.
As they ate and talked, he didn’t miss how both Baldewin and Warin rolled their shoulders on more than one occasion as if they were uncomfortable. Not that he was overly worried. It was just good to know if there was a problem with his protection detail, right?
He asked them both about it, but they were quick to brush it off as nothing.
They didn’t look like they were in pain, just uncomfortable.
Was it their wings? Did dragons need to fly often?
Warin had flown just the other day, but it had been a short trip.
How long had it been since Baldewin had last been in his dragon form?
“It’s a shame to be leaving this nice, cool weather,” Warin murmured as he pushed away the last empty container and patted the food baby in his relatively flat stomach. “At least it will still be comfortable in the mountains.”
“Cool weather? This has been like living on the surface of the sun it’s so warm in Helsinki,” he playfully exaggerated. Is this cold for fire dragons? Or do you prefer the heat?”
Baldewin shook his head. “Fire dragons love the cold and snow.”
“It’s the ice dragons who prefer the heat. That’s why the clan lives down in Brazil. Those beach bums spend all their time lying on the sand and surfing.”
Tori snickered at the image of a dragon trying to balance its enormous body on a tiny surfboard or stretched out on the hot sand like a beached whale.
“Burkhard is in the Alps. During the winter months, we pass a lot of time skiing and playing in the snow,” Baldewin explained.
Tori suddenly wanted to see Baldewin’s dragon covered in snow, his massive head resting on a snowbank while he contentedly blew smoke rings into the air. Yeah, that would be pretty incredible.
If the fire dragons appreciated the cold and the snow, maybe they weren’t all bad. Now, if the Germans understood the importance of a good sauna, they might actually prove to be tolerable.