‘‘They aren’t. My father lives in Tanzania. The only thing he shares with my mother, my sisters and me excluded, is a passion for animals. That’s how they met. My father came to Australia a few centuries before the white settlers, wanting to see for himself the wildlife that was so abundant here. My mother was shaman for one of the aboriginal tribes and healed him when he got himself into trouble with a tiger snake. He stayed for about ten years, but eventually they went their separate ways.’’

‘‘That’s rather sad.’’ I mused on how I’d feel if one of the other wyverns attempted to steal my shard-infested self from Gabriel. ‘‘I take it your mother is immortal, then? How can she be that if she’s not his mate?’’

‘‘She’s a shaman.’’

‘‘And shamans are immortal?’’ That puzzled me. I’d never heard of shamans being anything but mortal.

‘‘Not technically. Shamans can walk in the Dreaming, though. My mother simply sends her spirit there when her mortal body wears out, and returns to the mortal world when she’s reborn.’’

‘‘Ahhh. Very smart. How many times has she come back?’’

‘‘Too many to count. That should be her camp up there.’’ His eyes glittered in the darkness of the car as the headlights picked out a small cluster of ratty tents. As the noise of the car reached it, a couple of people stood up from where they’d been sitting around a large campfire.

A little spike of nervousness gripped my stomach.

‘‘You have nothing to be nervous about, little bird. My mother will love you,’’ Gabriel said, reading either my mind or the wary expression that no doubt planted itself on my face.

A tall, elegant-looking woman with skin the color of espresso beans strode forward, her smile when she saw Gabriel as warm as the waves of heat that still rose off the cooling dirt of the desert.

She called out a greeting and enveloped him in a huge bear hug, kissing him on both cheeks and examining his face for a moment before she allowed him to introduce me.

‘‘You look well, child. You look . . . happy.’’

‘‘For that, you have May to thank,’’ he said, holding out his hand for me.

‘‘I am Kaawa Mani. I have heard of you from my friends, child,’’ she said as she eyed me from the top of my head down to my dusty walking shoes.

‘‘I’m very sorry about my appearance. We had a little accident with my clothing,’’ I said as she paused to note the fact that I was clad in only Gabriel’s shirt. ‘‘But it’s a great pleasure to meet you.’’

She looked for a second at the hand I held out, then examined my face closely. I had to steel myself to keep from shadowing, so piercing was her gaze. I felt naked before her, as if she’d immediately stripped away all the outer layers of my being and was looking directly into my soul. ‘‘You share a dreaming with wintiki, the night bird,’’ she said, suddenly hugging me.

I was surrounded in the warmth of her being and felt immediately welcomed into something that seemed to encompass both her and the earth itself. ‘‘I do? I hope that’s good.’’

Kaawa laughed. ‘‘It is rare for a nonindigenous person to share a dreaming. It is a good sign.’’

‘‘Then I’m very pleased,’’ I said, glancing at Gabriel. He stood watching us with a rather somber expression. ‘‘Although I’m not quite sure I understand what exactly a dreaming is. I thought it was the same as the shadow world.’’

‘‘Dreaming can be many things,’’ she said, putting her arm around me and escorting me to the fire, where three other people stood waiting. ‘‘Generally it is the story of origins, of how things came to be. But in your world, it can also mean an existence beyond the mortal plain. It is all that, and more. Do not attempt to understand it all; just simply accept that it is.’’

‘‘That sounds like very wise advice.’’

‘‘This is Adobi, Maka, and Pari,’’ she said, introducing the three men who greeted me with big smiles and firm handshakes. ‘‘They are fellow rangers from the local area. Before them, I name you daughter, and so shall you be known to all. Gabriel, I think you remember Pari from—what on earth?’’

She had turned to face him and obviously just noticed the red stripes he bore on his sides. I felt my face flush and had to fight to keep from shadowing as she marched over to examine the markings.

‘‘These are mating marks,’’ she said, straightening up. ‘‘Dragon mating marks. I thought you said your wintiki was a shadow walker?’’

A small fire broke out at my feet. The three men, dressed in identical dusty khaki shirts and shorts, looked askance and stepped back a few paces as I stomped it out.

‘‘There was a situation with the Lindorm Phylactery,’’ Gabriel said slowly, glancing briefly at the three others.

‘‘You may speak in front of them. They will not carry tales,’’ his mother said, pulling him toward the fire.

He took my hand and pulled me with him. One of the rangers, the oldest, a man with gray hair and wise brown eyes, waved his hand toward a camp stool.

‘‘Thank you, I’m fine,’’ I murmured, and carefully perched myself on a beat-up plastic cooler that was evidently also used as a seat.

‘‘I think you’d better tell me about it,’’ Kaawa said, and offered us both coffee.

Gabriel quickly recounted the events of the last day. I shifted uncomfortably when her gaze slipped to me as he told how I had misheard him, resulting in the phylactery being broken, and I had to resort to sitting on my hands when my fingers repeatedly ignited.

‘‘That is all very interesting,’’ she said slowly, her gaze searching his face. ‘‘But you have not yet mentioned the most interesting part of all.’’

Gabriel’s lips thinned. His knees burst into flame.

‘‘Sorry,’’ I said, and focused hard on damping down the fire. It fizzled out to nothing.

‘‘May is feeling the effects of the dragon shard,’’ he said as an explanation. ‘‘Hence the mating marks. As you can see, she is still learning to control the fire.’’