Dragons of Spring Dawning - Margaret Weis [1]
In absences you grew
more beautiful, more poisonous, you were
an attar of orchids in the swimming night,
where passion, like a shark drawn down a bloodstream,
murders four senses, only taste preserving,
buckling into itself, finding the blood its own,
a small wound first, but as the shark unravels
the belly tatters in the long throat’s tunnel.
And knowing this, the night still seems a richness,
a gauntlet of desires ending in peace,
I would still be part of these allurements,
and to my arms I would take in the darkness,
blessed and renamed by pleasure;
but the light,
the light, my Kitiara, when the sun
spangles the rain-gorged sidewalks, and the oil
from doused lamps rises in the sunstruck water,
splintering the light to rainbows! I arise,
and though the storm resettles on the city,
I think of Sturm, Laurana, and the others,
but Sturm the foremost, who can see the sun
straight through the fog and cloudrack. How could I
abandon these?
And so into the shadow,
and not your shadow but the eager grayness
expecting light, I ride the storm away.
The Everman
Why, look, Berem. Here’s a path.… How strange. All the times we’ve been hunting in these woods and we’ve never seen it.”
“It’s not so strange. The fire burned off some of the brush, that’s all. Probably just an animal trail.”
“Let’s follow it. If it is an animal trail, maybe we’ll find a deer. We ’ve been hunting all day with nothing to show for it. I hate to go home empty-handed.”
Without waiting for my reply, she turns onto the trail. Shrugging, I follow her. It is pleasant being outdoors today, the first warm day after the bitter chill of winter. The sun is warm on my neck and shoulders. Walking through the fire-ravaged woods is easy. No vines to snag you. No brush to tear at your clothing. Lightning, probably that thunderstorm which struck late last fall.
But we walk for a long time and finally I begin to grow weary. She is wrong—this is no animal trail. It is a man-made path and an old one at that. We’re not likely to find any game. Just the same as it’s been all day. The fire, then the hard winter: The animals dead or gone. There’ll be no fresh meat tonight.
More walking. The sun is high in the sky. I’m tired, hungry. There’s been no sign of any living creature.
“Let’s turn back, sister. There’s nothing here.…”
She stops, sighing. She is hot and tired and discouraged, I can tell. And too thin. She works too hard, doing women’s work and men’s as well. Out hunting when she should be home, receiving the pledges of suitors. She’s pretty, I think. People say we look alike, but I know they are wrong. It is only that we are so close—closer than other brothers and their sisters. But we’ve had to be close. Our life has been so hard.…
“I suppose you’re right, Berem. I’ve seen no sign … Wait, brother … Look ahead. What’s that?”
I see a bright and shining glitter, a myriad colors dancing in the sunlight—as if all the jewels on Krynn were heaped together in a basket.
Her eyes widen. “Perhaps it’s the gates of the rainbow!”
Ha! Stupid girlish notion. I laugh, but I find myself running forward. It is hard to catch up with her. Though I am bigger and stronger, she is fleet as a deer.
We come to a clearing in the forest. If lightning did strike this forest, this must have been where the bolt hit. The land around is scorched and blasted. There was a building here once, I notice. Ruined, broken columns jut up from the blackened ground like broken bones sticking through decaying flesh. An oppressive feeling hangs over the place. Nothing grows here, nor has anything grown here for many springs. I want to leave, but I cannot.…
Before me is the most beautiful, wonderful sight I have ever seen in my life, in my dreams.… A piece of a stone column, encrusted with jewels! I know nothing about gemstones, but I can tell these are valuable beyond belief! My body begins to shake. Hurrying forward, I kneel down beside the fire-blasted stone and brush away the dirt and filth.
She kneels beside me.
“Berem! How wonderful! Did you ever see anything