On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [119]
The Dragon held her in his forepaws as if it cradled an infant. Somehow, in her dazed state, she felt it probing at her mind. It nuzzled her thoughts like the sa’abah had nuzzled her face, tentatively asking admittance.
Euphoric, almost unconscious, Kevla permitted it inside.
The darkness was physical, calming, and soothing. Out of the blackness appeared a small light. It flickered, a tiny flame, then it grew until the light filled her field of vision. When it dimmed slightly, Kevla found herself standing on a mountainside. The sun blazed and the sky was a brilliant blue. A breeze blew, ruffling her clothes.
Her clothes? She looked down at herself and for a moment it looked as though she was wrapped in a sheet of fire. Then she realized that the rhia that draped her was made of a red material that felt soft as water to the touch.
She looked up and gasped as she saw a wide expanse of still water. It reflected the blue of the sky, and she wished she could wade forward and immerse her body in its cool depths. Somehow she knew this water was not for bathing.
As she continued to gaze at the blue depths, seeing herself reflected in its surface, she saw something else.
It was the Dragon, on all fours, sitting quietly at her side.Their reflected gazes met, and suddenly Kevla laughed with delight. She turned to the creature beside her, remembering everything they had shared in times before. This was no monster, no stern, implacable “guardian” of a frightened people’s controlling beliefs. This was her old friend, a part of her, given flesh as she was given flesh. Four times before, they had been together. Four times before, they had laughed and cried with delight, or faced destruction with a brave face, taking comfort from one another. Images flashed before her, reflected in the water.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, holding out her arms to her friend, companion, ally, comforter, other Self. “How could I have forgotten you?”
It lowered its head so she could throw her arms around his sinuous neck. She felt a huge, warm tear splash on her shoulder, soaking her new garment.
“It has been hard, waiting for you,” he said, his voice booming in her ear even as he tried to whisper. “I could not come to you. You had to find me, to remember who you are.”
“I am Fire,” she replied, knowing now it was true. But what it meant….
“Open your mind and heart, dear friend,” the Dragon urged. “Gaze into the water, and remember.”
She obeyed. She saw herself, but the image in the water looked nothing like Kevla Bai-sha. She was a woman about the age of her mother, with long yellow hair; a man with a powerful build; a youth with his first downy growth of beard; a little boy who had never lived past five summers. The Dragon was with her at every turn.
“I understand that…that I have lived before,” she said to her friend, one hand reaching out to caress his smooth red scales. But the fire….
“Watch,” the Dragon remonstrated. Kevla watched as the yellow-haired woman’s image shifted and reformed into a leaping flame. It rippled again, and the flame stretched out four streams that formed into legs and arms, solidifying into the second figure Kevla had seen, the strong young man. His shape in turn became fire, then reformed into the youth, then the child. Comprehension dawned.
“I am Fire,” she breathed, understanding now. “I truly am Fire, Fire made into human form.” Almost unaware that she did so, she brought one hand to her arm, touching the soft skin, half expecting to find the liquid fire that had almost drowned her.
“As am I,” the Dragon said. “You are the element of Fire given flesh, and I am your Companion. Four times we have been given shape and form; this is the last time it will be so.”
The number was important, Kevla knew. She also knew something else, and that knowledge descended with a swiftness that almost brought her to her knees:
“We’re not alone,” she said, steadying herself against the Dragon. “There are others, aren’t there?”
“It is coming back to you now,” the Dragon