“How interesting,” Bobbi said, really meaning it. “That must have been a big undertaking for you—raising a son from a whole different species, I mean.”
She loved learning about new cultures and she couldn’t help herself—she was going into interview mode. Just because she had been kidnapped didn’t mean she had lost her curiosity.
In fact, if anything, she ought to find out as much about the Saurian culture as she could, she reasoned with herself. Knowing their customs better might enable her to find a way out of this situation.
“May I ask a question, er…” She paused, realizing she didn’t remember the other woman’s name.
“Oh, forgive me—I’m Res. Tizlah,” Dragon’s mother said. “And please, ask as many questions as you like.”
“Well, you said that your husband brought Dragon home to be Zerlix’s ‘Little Brother’. Is that a common occurrence here on Saurous?” Bobbi asked. “I mean, do you often adopt outsiders into your family?”
“Not with females or daughters,” Res. Tizlah said. “But with sons, yes, it’s very common for Clan leaders to exchange sons—usually second sons—as a sign of friendship and a willingness to live side-by-side in peace.”
“Fascinating! So the sons that are traded are raised by their new family as a kind of living peace treaty?” Bobbi asked, raising her eyebrows.
Res. Tizlah nodded.
“That’s a very good way to put it. Of course, I had only the one natural-born son—Zerlix—and so we were unable to do any kind of a trade with any rival Clans. But then my husband found Dragon in a very bad situation. He rescued him and brought him home to me to join our brood.” She shot a fond glance over Bobbi’s head at her adopted son, who was listening in bemused silence to their conversation.
“That can’t have been easy—suddenly being given a child from a whole different species to raise,” Bobbi remarked. “Where did you even start?”
“Well, I read everything I could about mammalians and their habits and dietary needs to start with,” Res. Tizlah said. “And luckily, Dragon has never been what you might call a ‘delicate’ child.”
Bobbi cast a glance over her shoulder at the huge Kindred and snorted.
“No—‘delicate’ isn’t exactly how I’d describe him,” she remarked.
The corners of Res. Tizla’s lipless mouth turned up and she made a hissing sound which Bobbi realized must be laughter.
“Oh my, no—not now at least!” she exclaimed. “But you should have seen him when my husband brought him home. He was so tiny and frail-looking, I was really afraid I wouldn’t be able to keep him alive! And of course, for the first few solar months he didn’t say a word, so it was really difficult to know if I was doing the right things or not.”
“He didn’t speak? Why not?”
“Well…he had been through a…a traumatic incident.” Res. Tizlah’s yellow eyes flicked up to Dragon’s face uncertainly.
“It’s all right, Mother Tizlah—you can tell her,” he murmured.
“Well, as long as you don’t mind, son.” Res. Tizlah cleared her throat. “Someone—in one of the rival Clans—had, er, killed Dragon’s people. My husband said he found him sitting in a room with their corpses—just a little boy all alone with the bodies of his parents laying right there beside him.”
“Oh my God!” Bobbi exclaimed, though she usually tried not to interrupt when she was interviewing someone. But the mental image the other woman painted was both vivid and shocking. “That’s terrible!” she said.
“I thought so, too. And so sad.” Res. Tizlah shook her head. “When my husband told me the circumstances, well, I was determined to take Dragon in and treat him as one of my own, no matter that he was mammalian. And he’s always been a good, kind boy,” she added, smiling up at the big Kindred. “A mother couldn’t ask for a more thoughtful son.”
Bobbi thought about pointing out that this “good, kind boy” had kidnapped her and dragged her away from her research project against her will, but they seemed to have gotten beyond that talking point by now.
“You’re very kind,” she said to Res. Tizlah instead. “So I guess eventually you got him to come out of his shell? Er… to talk again?” she said, seeing that the Saurian woman didn’t understand her metaphor.
“Oh, yes. It took months, as I said, but he finally started speaking. Thankfully, he doesn’t remember any of the trauma,” Res. Tizlah said. “Do you, son?” she asked, speaking to Dragon over Bobbi’s head.
“Not a bit,” he rumbled. “It’s like a blank wall in my mind when I try to remember anything before my fifth year.” He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling. “I didn’t even know my name, when my Sire brought me here for Mother Tizlah to raise.”
“Really? Then did you remember it later?” Bobbi asked, curious despite herself.
He shook his head and Res. Tizlah did as well.
“Dear me, no! I’m afraid he never remembered his given name. At first we just called him ‘Little Brother’ because I kept hoping his name, at least, would come back to him. But we couldn’t call him that forever, so we finally wound up giving him a new name.”