Some time later, Donovan was walking down a dusty trail towards the northern bluffs. He walked, because horses were terrified of dragons, and training one to stand firm near a dragon was often more trouble than it was worth. And cost more than he'd felt like sparing when he set out, so his horse stayed behind at the inn. He was feeling a bit bemused as he walked. Here he'd spent weeks hunting the thing, and now he had an appointment to meet it. Though he'd finally managed to put two and two together and figure out how the dragon had been avoiding him. She was friends with the innkeeper's daughter. And they had made all their plans at the inn. He shook his head wryly as he walked along. He'd never even considered that such a thing could be possible.

The needle's eye was a tower of stone that stood away from the bluffs, a lone sentinel reaching up from the nearly level plateau around it. The spire was so named because of the hole in the bottom that made it look like a needle stood on end, point up. As the base of the spire came into view, Donovan saw that it seemed someone had threaded the needle with gold thread. The dragon was lying in the hole, her head out one end and her tail trailing out behind. She was small for a dragon, Donovan noted. Hardly fifteen feet long, she would still tower over him, but even a plains dragon would likely be bigger. She can't possibly be full grown, she's just a child, he realized.

He approached the glittering form cautiously and stopped a few yards away. The dragon smiled, an expression that was not as reassuring as it might have been. Donovan had been part of a dragon-slaying party before, but he'd never been this close to one.

"Hello," it said.

"Uh. Hello."

There was an awkward silence, neither of them quite able to think of anything to say to the other. Finally Donovan said, "My name is Donovan. Your friend said you would like a truce? I hope that you aren't upset at me for coming here."

"Not unless you still intend to kill me. I think that would be a little upsetting."

That startled a little laugh out of him. "Oh no! I have no intention of harming you, so long as you have no intention of harming the townsfolk. Though I do admit, the amount of scale you represent is very tempting. But I could never do something like that! I hunt dragons to protect people. Enriching myself is just a sort of side benefit."

The dragon chuckled. "That is very good to hear. I can promise you that I mean no harm whatsoever to the villagers." She smiled a knowing sort of smile and said, "I'm actually quite fond of most of them. So can we reach a truce?"

"Yes, I think we can. Though... your friend mentioned perhaps a friendship?"

The dragon eyed him. "And what does a dragon-slayer want with the friendship of a dragon?"

"Well, all of the best dragon hunters, the ones that kings hire when they have a dragon problem, have contacts and treaties with various dragons, so when they have to deal with a rogue dragon that's too much for mere humans to handle, they have someone to help them kill it, or reason with it, or just to give advice. It might make my career if I could go and say that I was on friendly terms with the great gold dragon... umm... what is your name, anyway?"

The dragon's expression turned sad. She slowly shook her head. "I don't know."

"What?"

"I'm an orphan. I've never met any other dragons. There was no one to give me a proper dragonish name."

He looked at her, her head bowed, and suddenly felt sorry for her. She wasn't a monster, she was a child, all alone in the world. "I'm sorry. Perhaps... I speak a little bit of dragon, though not very much. Perhaps I could help you name yourself? You seem to know humans pretty well, is there some human name you favor that I could render in dragon for you?"

The dragon looked up and smiled. "Yes, there is. I think the name of my friend, Serali, is a fine name."

"Well! That it is. But if it's to be a dragon name, you have to pronounce it differently. First, you need to hiss the ‘s' and then..."

Several hours later, Donovan interrupted the impromptu language lesson to point out that the sun was sinking toward the horizon.

"I'm afraid that I must go."

The newly named Sserrali looked at the sky with surprise. "Oh my! It's much later than I thought! I need to be off as well."

Donovan turned to go back down the path when the dragon called out

"Wait! I almost forgot!"

She reached back into an alcove in the side of the eye of the needle and pulled out a small leather bag. It was dwarfed in her clawed hand. She turned and threw the bag at the dragon hunter. "This is for you."

He caught it. Opening it he saw that it was filled with small golden scales, ranging from tiny flakes to ones an inch or so across. He'd held more money than that, but only once, when he'd gotten his share after the slaying of a rogue dragon. This was a smaller amount than the parcel that had first set him up as a solitary slayer and not somebody's helper, but it was still a not inconsiderable sum. The dragon grinned at him. "Ssevtal, trrevaler," she said, trying out some of her newly learned Dragonish.

"Ssevtal," Donovan answered, almost absently, "And may we meet again."