On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [132]
Later, witnesses said they weren’t sure who had first struck whom, but a fight ensued in which two Horseriders were severely beaten and one Sandcattle Clansmen stabbed. The noise drew the attention of others, and what had begun as a brawl born of tension escalated into a multi-clan battle.
Tahmu bolted from his tent at the sound of the cries and cursed. “Dumah, saddle Swift, then alert all the other khashims. We have to stop this before—”
But Dumah was paying no attention to his lord. He stood as if carved of rock, staring up at the sky, awe and horror commingled on his face. Others, too, had stopped in midstride and were gazing upward. Tahmu followed their gaze, and his heart leaped.
It came from inside Mount Bari, seemingly made of the dark, twisting smoke which arose from that most sacred of places. But this was no smoky illusion. Enormous, graceful wings beat the sky steadily, keeping aloft a dark shape that seemed to be a blending of lizard and snake. Tahmu’s heart began to race as the creature drew nearer.
There was no mistaking it now. Morning sun glinted off red scales, and even as he watched it opened its mouth and spouted flame.
The Great Dragon was descending from the mountain.
He heard screams of fear and joy commingled, and all around him members of every clan fell to their hands and knees. His own legs seemed to be locked into place, but when the Dragon drew nearer, he, Tahmu-kha-Rakyn, dropped to the dust beside the lowliest of his Clan.
Closer it drew, and he found he could not tear his gaze away. Now he could see that there was something on its back. A heartbeat later, he realized with a fresh shock whom he beheld: his daughter, Kevla, clad in a rhia the same hue as the mighty Dragon, sitting erect and calm on the Great Dragon’s back, her black hair flying in the wind the creature’s wings created.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Great Dragon had no trouble finding a place to come to earth. The clanspeople had fled from his descent, creating a clearing. It landed gracefully for so mammoth a creature, and folded its wings with the delicacy and fastidiousness of a sparrow. It raised its mighty head and surveyed them with yellow eyes.
Moving as surely and as gracefully as the Dragon, Kevla Bai-sha dismounted easily. She stood straight and tall, no sign of fear or arrogance in her gaze. Instead, Tahmu noticed a confidence he had never before seen in her.
She stood patiently, waiting for the cries of fear and wonder to fade. When at last there was silence, she spoke.
“We all know the stories,” she said in a clear voice that carried on the still desert air. “It is said that when the Great Dragon leaves his home in Mount Bari, the end of the world is near. But I am here to tell you that this is only partially true. The world will indeed end, if something is not done to prevent it. And we can do something to prevent it.”
She began to walk the circumference of the crowd, her eyes singling out those Tahmu knew to be Lorekeepers. “You were born to prevent it,” she said to a young five-score girl. The girl smiled tremulously. “And you,” she said to the khashim of the Star Clan, “and you,” to Melaan. “All of you who have had the dreams that have made you afraid to speak your truth. You have dreamed the fate of worlds before, and the possible fate of this one. I honor you, Lorekeepers.”
She brought her hands to her heart and bowed deeply. “The creature before you is indeed the Great Dragon of our legends, but he is also part of me. He is Fire, and I am Fire, sent to heal.
“I am the Flame Dancer, the