On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [117]
She smiled, softly. “Thank you, Dragon,” she said as she reached for the fruit. He had provided, as she had trusted he would.
Her steps that day were sure and strong. The food and water strengthened and sustained her, and her purpose guided her. Food continued to appear each morning. Every time she stopped now, she tried to see the Dragon in the flames. Just as dusk was approaching one night, she realized that her steps were gradually going uphill. She was now at the foothills of Mount Bari.
Her mouth went dry. Dropping her pack, she quickly conjured fire. Her heart was beating wildly. She stared into the flames for a long moment, dreading and craving what she knew she was about to see.
Licking dry lips, she whispered, “Show me the Great Dragon.”
And he was there, his massive, reptilian face no larger than her palm, but every bit as frightening as it had been in her dreams. Kevla gasped. As she looked into his eyes, she knew he was looking back at her.
For you, Jashemi. My brother. My love.
She shook so badly that she almost fell as she stumbled to her feet. She wanted to stride boldly into the fire, but for a moment, she couldn’t move.
Coward! she thought. This is your fate, Kevla. Accept it!
Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Kevla stepped forward into the circle of flame.
She emerged on a rock ledge. Kevla was confused. Before, when she had stepped from her fire into Tahmu’s encampment, it had been from her fire to his fire pit. Where, then, were the flames?
It was only then that she realized that she was surrounded by flickering sheets of orange and red. She took a step forward. Her foot stepped onto nothing. Kevla flailed to regain her balance, leaning back and clutching the sheer rock behind her. The ledge upon which she stood was only about as wide as her extended arm. It dropped off several feet into a liquid pool of fire.
Fascinated and terrified at the same time, Kevla gazed into the bubbling orange pool. Heat blasted her, and though she did not feel it on her skin, she felt the fabric of her clothing begin to burn and catch fire, as it had done when she stood on the pyre in the courtyard of the Great House. Feeling no shame, she plucked off what clothing remained and stood naked in the heart of Mount Bari.
As the moments passed, Kevla’s fear abated somewhat. The narrow ledge, the pool of molten rock, the dancing flames that formed a circle and cast grotesque shadows—all were frightening. But the one thing she had most hoped and feared to find here had not appeared.
Where was the Great Dragon?
She shifted position on the ledge. A small pebble tumbled into the orange-yellow pool.
“Dragon!” she called. She tried to sound brave, but her voice quivered and she could barely hear it in her own ears. “Dragon, I have come! Where are you?”
There was no response.
Then, the pool beneath Kevla began to churn. Slowly, something forced its way through, swimming upward like the monsters of the river. The Great Dragon’s head broke the surface of the viscous, liquid rock. Orange rolled down its long, scaly neck as it rose upward. Mammoth shoulders appeared next, and Kevla instinctively cried out and shielded her face as leathery wings beat and scattered molten droplets.
Kevla fell hard to her knees, lowering her arms from her head and wrapping them around her body. She shook so badly she feared she would topple forward into the pool of fire. It kept coming, a gargantuan creature birthed from flame. Its head towered over her. Kevla could not tear her gaze from it. All was unfolding as it had a thousand times and more, in dream after dream after dream….
Its sinuous neck twisted and the Dragon lowered its head down to her. She stared into the glowing depths of eyes that were as broad as her hand, mesmerized, the bird before the snake.
Its mouth opened, exposing sharp, white teeth the size and sharpness of daggers. Kevla stared into its maw. A forked tongue flickered in and out. She waited,