On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [122]
“Yes, Dragon,” she called. “I am here.”
He rounded the corner, enormous and red, his long tail snaking behind him. His wings were folded against his sloping mountain of a back, and his eyes were bright.
“I thought you were going to sleep the century away, but I did not want to wake you.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Two days and two nights.”
“No wonder I was so hungry.”
“Mmmm,” said the Dragon, surveying what little remained of the meal. “Perhaps you would like an entire sandcow for dinner?”
Kevla’s tentative smile broadened into a grin, and impulsively she ran and threw her arms around his long neck.
“How did I ever get along without you?” she asked, squeezing him one final time and then letting go.
He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “I was wondering,” he said mildly, with a twinkle of humor in his golden eyes.
Kevla’s smile faded. The trio was not complete, would never again be complete. Jashemi, the Lorekeeper, had passed from flesh. Still, she could have sworn she felt his presence, gentle as a kiss, in her mind before she awoke.
Her somberness did not escape her friend’s notice. He knew what she was thinking.
“I regret,” rumbled the Dragon, “that things unfolded as they did. I wish the people of Arukan had been wiser.”
His words reminded Kevla of something Jashemi had said, something he had thought was important.
“Jashemi believed that our powers were manifesting now for a reason,” she said. “He thinks—thought—that it had something to do with the Emperor who is attacking our people.”
The Dragon nodded. “Jashemi was correct. Your destiny and that of all the worlds are entwined with the Emperor.”
She rubbed her temples. “I’m not ready to face that yet. I am still so…Dragon, tell me of our past. I remember much, but so much more is lost to me.”
The Dragon brightened. “I love a good tale,” he mused, “and this is a marvelous one, for it is all true.”
He settled back on his haunches, exposing his lighter-hued orange-yellow belly. Like a child seeking comfort from a loved parent, Kevla crawled over and nestled against him. His scales were smooth, like glazed pots, and so warm. She felt the tentative pat of a mammoth claw and relaxed even further. Safe, she felt so safe with this new, old friend.
“You found me first when I was still in the egg,” the Dragon began.
Each day, he told her of a different life they had lived. She listened attentively, hoping to glean information that would be of use in this life, this final Dance that she and the others, as of yet unknown to her, would perform. Some things she remembered, others felt more like stories than memories.
Food mysteriously continued to appear when she slept, and she ate and drank without questioning. Finally, on the fifth day, she knew it was time to turn her attention to the present.
“Jashemi spoke of other Lorekeepers, here in Arukan,” she told the Dragon. Her chest ached as she spoke. It still hurt so much to speak of him, to think of him, but she continued. “Like him, they probably are afraid to speak of their dreams. It could condemn them to death.”
The Dragon nodded and made a sour face. To one who did not know him, it would be terrifying to behold. Kevla recalled the expression from a life before, and to her it was amusing and endearing.
“It would indeed. Foolish Arukani,” he muttered.
“So how do I find them? How do I let them know what Jashemi knew—what we know?”
He looked at her intently. “How do you find out anything, Flame Dancer?”
Of course. She should have thought of it sooner. Easily, without even thinking, she conjured fire and asked it, “Show me the Lorekeepers of Arukan.”
The fire suddenly flamed up, almost as tall as the Dragon. Several faces were in its heart, flickering and shifting. Jashemi had been right; there were indeed many others.
“Well,” said the Dragon. “It seems you have an embarrassment of riches. And these are only the ones who happen to be near fires right now. Perhaps you’d best narrow it down.