On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [121]
The Lorekeeper cocked his head, and the old man’s face bled into that of another woman.
“I am no longer Jashemi. I am all these people you once loved, and none….”
“Please,” she begged. “Please come back. Let me say goodbye to you.”
With a visible effort, the Lorekeeper resumed the form of her brother and lover. She sobbed as she beheld the dear face.
“Our love is beyond the physical, Flame Dancer,” Jashemi whispered. “Death cannot stop it. It hasn’t before and it won’t now. But if you wish to have the Lorekeeper with you, you must learn to let go of the form I took when I was flesh. The form that loved Kevla Bai-sha is dead. Only I exist now.”
“Do you even remember?” she cried. “Do you even….” She couldn’t speak anymore.
His hands shot out to seize her wrists and when she looked into the Lorekeeper’s eyes, she saw, truly saw, Jashemi.
“Of course I remember!” he said, his voice hoarse with intensity. “But our love was not meant to be that of a man and woman. Not this time. I was born to be your brother and friend, to be close to you and love and support you in that fashion. We became lovers because we had to. Because our people stamped out anything else that we could have used to discover the truth. Think of a tree planted among stones, Kevla. Think how its roots twist andturn, seeking sustenance any way it can. You needed to learn your true nature, and I needed to help you do that. In a country where my dreams and your powers condemned us to death, we connected with each other the only way we could.”
He touched her cheek, and it was Jashemi’s touch. “Our love was right, Kevla. How it expressed itself was not. Do you understand?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Even as she held his hand, he began to fade. “No…! Jashemi, don’t leave me, don’t go—”
“I must,” he said regretfully. “I ever existed to love and serve you, Flame Dancer. And even though I am no longer flesh…I still do.”
Kevla opened her eyes and air filled her lungs. Jashemi and the scrying pool were gone. She was awake and still held in the arms of the Dragon. He bent his head and regarded her, concern plain on his reptilian face.
She found the strength to meet his gaze and nod. He cradled her closer, and her head fell back against his strong, protective forepaws as the Flame Dancer fell into sweet unconsciousness.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kevla awoke feeling rested and famished. For a moment, she kept her eyes closed, unwilling to open them and see what was reality and what was surely a dream. Beneath her, she felt hard stone, yet she knew she had slept as well as if she had been in a khashim’s bed. A scent wafted to her nostrils…cooking meat?
She opened her eyes and sat up, realizing with a strange mixture of joy and dismay that her “dreams” had not been dreams at all. She was still inside Mount Bari, the only light coming from the leaping flames and the lava pool. The Dragon had moved her to a safer place away from the pool. As she moved, she observed that the rhia she had worn in her vision was real as well. She touched the soft, scarlet fabric.
She sniffed again. She was not imagining it; somewhere close by someone was roasting meat. She rose, stiff and sore, and stretched, following the scent around a corner where a small fire burned quietly. On a spit, the proper distance from the flame, was a whole roasting fowl. On plates around it were bread, fruits, nuts, and wine and water skins.
Kevla’s stomach growled and she fell ravenously upon the food. She ate and drank with an intensity that surprised her, reaching into the fire and pulling off chunks of meat with her bare hands. There was no pain from the heat. Finally, sighing with contentment, she rubbed her full belly and leaned back against the stone walls.
Her hunger sated, she turned her attention to all that she had so recently discovered. There was so much in her mind that she felt overwhelmed. Her own identity and purpose, Jashemi’s true Self, the Dragon—it was hard to sort it all out.
“Flame Dancer?” The deep voice rumbled and echoed. Kevla wondered