Loving in Heaven and Earth

by E A Comiskey

  "What if you used it and it didn't replenish? Then it would be gone forever."

  "But I would have saved one," he said. "I could have saved one, but I just watched them die."

  That night, I woke up coughing. Nuttah lay next to me in the bed, a burning coal of fever. Terrified, I stood on legs that threatened to buckle beneath me and went to the other room. Risa lay in her bed pale, straining to draw breaths between parted lips. Hala stood at her side.

  "The baby is sick," I told him before a fit of coughing ripped through my lungs.

  His hand drifted up to the gourd hanging around his neck.

  There was only one drop left.

  Thirty

  A handsome woman with long, shining black hair and a fringed leather dress laid a baby in my arms and told me, "Be strong, Jax. You have a great work ahead of you."

  "I am nothing. I ruined my chance," I loved the sound of my own voice, low and soft and feminine.

  "Start again, Jax. You can't give up. You have a great work ahead of you."

  The room swam into focus around me.

  I’d been shot in the belly. Why did my chest hurt so much?

  A fit of coughing overcame me.

  Not shot. Sick. So sick.

  Hala pushed me up onto my side.

  Alma’s face came into view. “I’m going to pump the milk out, Jax. We have to get it out, and Nuttah needs it.”

  Hands on my back, pounding.

  Hands on my breasts.

  Fire in my chest. Fire that created squeezing suffocating bands of smoke.

  Darkness.

  “Hala cares for you as much as he’s ever cared for anyone.”

  We walked through a forest of dappled light that fell upon us in tiny warm diamonds.

  “I care about Wolf. I care about keeping the house cleaned. Caring is not enough.”

  The woman sighed. “I know. It’s probably my fault. I kept men at a distance. I’d been raised to fear humans and I learned to fear those who were like me. I had few people in my life whom I truly loved. Maybe I never showed him how to love.”

  Stepping from the path, I moved toward the shallow stream I could hear tripping along the rocks nearby. The fragrance of the water hung in the air, a sweet, gentle perfume.

  “But you loved Hala.”

  “I still do.”

  “That should have been enough.”

  “The world is not always so black and white. You, like every created being, have made your choices along the way. Would you change any of them?” she asked, stepping with bare feet into the cool water beside me. We both stood still, wiggling our toes against the smooth river stones.

  The choices I'd made were simply too much to think about. I changed the subject.

  “I think I’m dying.” I began walking again, upstream, the current pressing against my shins. Dying held no special terror for me. It just was.

  “You are very ill,” she agreed.

  “Hala won’t save me.”

  She said nothing, only walked alongside me in peaceful silence.

  After a time, I shared what was on my mind. “There is only one drop left. He’ll save Risa.” I thought about that for a moment. “No. Not Risa, but her baby. He’ll do anything to save that baby.”

  "The dragon will help you. She senses the power within Nuttah. Take your daughter and go to her.”

  “I’ve wondered about her a great deal. She seems to understand me.”

  “She doesn’t understand you in the way another human would. She doesn’t speak or respond to language, but she sees your heart. She sees the path upon which you tread, and she sees where it most probably leads. She will help you. She believes in the good of your destiny.”

  “My destiny, or Nuttah’s?”

  We found a wide flat rock and sat next to each other, leaving our feet dangling in the cool water.

  “There is no difference between your destiny and Nuttah’s. A child’s life is the inevitable extension of their parent’s story.”

  The sunlight dimmed, the sounds around us began to fade away into the familiar silence in which I lived.

  “Go to the dragon, Jax.”

  ~*~

  I woke up in the dragon’s lair. How long had I been there? How could I know?

  I stood on legs that trembled beneath me. My own stench was overpowering. The animal lay curled against the far wall, watching me. Nuttah lay on a bed of leaves nearby looking impossibly huge.

  Green-tinged meat lay on the ground near my feet, teeth marks around the edges.

  Green-tinged blood dripped down the dragon’s rear flank.

  My stomach turned as dream-like memories swam at the edge of my mind.

  You fed me from your own body?

  She puffed a bit of smoke from her nostrils.

  I took a step, swayed, balanced, and took another step until I could kneel down next to my daughter. She slept soundly, troubled by no hint of fever.

  Taking stock of my own body I realized that my breathing was normal and pain-free. I was weak, and filthy, and exhausted, but not at all sick.

  You saved us.

  Another little puff of smoke rose up.

  I lifted Nuttah in my arms and shuffled across the floor where I curled against the dragon’s chest. Her tail wrapped around us and, using the tip of it as a pillow, I closed my eyes, holding my daughter close.

  When I am stronger, we will leave here. I might need your help one more time.

  A low vibration of sound ran through the beast’s body. I let her slow, rhythmic breathing carry me back toward sleep.

  ~*~

  By the time the village was in sight I was stumbling over my feet, barely able to lift them. Had I ever been so tired? I clutched Nuttah to my chest, terrified of dropping her.

  A child played in the distance. She saw me and ran away.

  Please, I prayed to Hala’s Creator God. If you’re there, let that girl send help, or I’m not going to make it.

  I staggered forward one more step. I took another after that. Put your left foot down. Good. Now the right. Good. Now the left again.

  And there was Hala, running toward me. I fell into his arms and he lifted me up, cradling me against his chest.

  Thank you, God.

  My body pressed against his smooth, strong chest and I laid my head against his shoulder, still clutching Nuttah. In his arms, I slept again.

  In some part of my mind I was aware of Risa and Alma washing my body. Later, someone was brushing my hair.

  Alma patted my cheek while Hala lifted me up, propping me against pillows.

  “Eat,” she said. “You’re all better now. Just starving and thirsty. Try this. It’s good.” She tipped a spoonful of hot, rich broth into my mouth. It really was good. I felt it move all the way to my stomach. I swear I could feel it being carried out to my limbs through my veins. She followed it with another spoonful and another.

  At some point, I drifted off to sleep again.

  When I woke again I was alone and I felt much stronger. Carefully, I put my feet on the smooth boards of the floor and stood. My legs barely shook.

  How much of my life would I spend in bed and recovering from being in bed? No more, I vowed. I’m done with sickness and injury!

  As if I had any say in the matter.

  I made my way to the door and opened it to the main room of the house.

  Risa sat in the chair I’d always used to nurse Nuttah. A tiny infant lay in her arms, kicking his little feet up to the air.

  Hala sat at the table, plans and blueprints scattered everywhere.

  Alma was on the floor in front of Nuttah, who was sitting up all on her own.

  Hala saw me and rose. “Jax! You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

  He can’t tell you where you should be, a defiant little voice in my head whispered.

  My eyes moved back to Risa, and I walked toward her.

  She smiled widely. “I know now why I was so tired. This little devil grew twice as fast as the average b
aby.”

  Little devil. Ha!

  “Hala said he grew the same way within his mother. I wonder why Nuttah was different. Genetics make for mysterious stew, eh?”

  The baby watched some invisible movement above our heads with beautiful, wide brown eyes.

  “What is his name?” I asked with silent hands. My gloves had been taken away and I had no idea where they were.

  “His name is Wikmak.”

  Hala stood at Risa’s shoulder. “In the language of my mother’s people it means, 'born of my mate.'”

  “He is beautiful,” I told Risa, and I meant it. He was a perfect little boy. She beamed at me. No mark of sickness lingered on her. If anything she looked stronger and healthier than she ever had. Almost as if by magic.

  I watched Nuttah playing with a wooden spoon, banging it against the floor.

  “Please tell me what happened,” I asked.

  Hala pulled a chair over for me and I sank into it, gratefully.

  “Can you get her gloves?” Risa asked.

  He brought them to me and I slipped them on, realizing how much I’d come to rely on these man-made objects that could be broken as all things could be.

  “Please tell me what happened,” I asked again, this time the gloves giving voice to my words.

  “We were hoping you could tell us,” Hala said. “You were so sick and…” He trailed off.

  “You wandered away in the night,” Alma said. “We didn’t know where you were. We sent search parties out, but no one could find you.”

  “There’s no way you had the strength to carry Nuttah any distance. You could barely lift your own head from the pillow,” Risa added.

  I chewed on my lip. “I don’t know how I left here,” I said. “I can’t remember. I remember being in bed, being sick. The next memory I have is of waking when the fever broke.”

  “Where were you?” Alma asked.

  I hesitated for a moment and decided there was nothing to gain by hiding the truth. “I was in the dragon’s lair. She cured me by feeding me of her own body.”

  Three sets of impossibly wide eyes stared at me.

  “I don’t know how I got there. As soon as I was strong enough to carry Nuttah I came back.”

  Still, they stared.

  I shifted uncomfortably.

  “Why does the dragon guard you?” Hala asked.

  “It is not me she guards. It is Nuttah.”

  He glanced at the baby and back to me. “But why?”

  I shrugged, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to share the beautiful dreams with him, either.

  “We thought you were dead,” Alma said.

  “Alma!” Risa scolded.

  “Well, we did. You were half gone already when you left here. We looked for days, but no one could find you. I can’t believe you lived with a dragon for two months.”

  It was my turn to be stunned. “Two months?”

  “Sixty-three days,” Hala said.

  I looked at Nuttah again, sitting up and playing. Then something else occurred to me. “Where’s Wolf?”

  Hala and Risa exchanged a glance.

  “What? Where is he?”

  “We don’t know,” Risa said. "The morning after you left he raced off into the woods. We haven’t seen him since.”

  My heart sank. I fought back the tears that threatened.

  “Would you like some broth?” Alma asked.

  “Yes, thank you.” I had to eat. If I was going to cross the mountains I had to be strong.

  Thirty-One

  A rider came. She told Hala the Fae had been ravished by plague and were all but dead and gone. The day after that, Dragon announced that the storehouses were completely rebuilt. He had dealt with his grief by launching himself into his work. All of the damage from the attacks was repaired, and there were new wings added on.

  Another day passed and I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the filthy, ragged boots I’d worn when I walked into this place for the first time. The relief at being home, at having our journey behind us, was still as fresh in my mind as it had been over a year ago.

  Winter was coming. This was the wrong time to make a journey. Especially through mountains.

  I had survived winters much harsher than this.

  But not with a child.

  Children survived in the north. I could keep her inside my coat, against my skin as women had done in that place.

  Hala will follow you. He won’t let this happen.

  No. It will be a problem solved for him. He’ll be free to build his empire with his beautiful queen and little prince at his side.

  I took the newer, sturdier boots from my closet and pulled them on. I lifted Nuttah from the bed and snuggled her into the sling across my chest.

  Hot tears stung my eyes. I blinked them away. I was done with tears. That time was past.

  My warm coat covered us both. “We’ll be strong and brave, My Heart. We will be bold and fearless.” I took a shaky breath. The pack was heavy on my back. No doubt my muscles would ache mightily by the end of the day.

  I tiptoed from the room, not wanting to wake anyone.

  Hala sat at the table, illuminated by a single candle. His dark, smooth cheeks were wet with tears.

  “Don’t go, Jax.”

  I let the intention build within me and, as I exhaled, my Gift moved out toward him. Don’t try to stop me.

  I could not make anyone do anything it wasn’t in their heart to do.

  He wept, but said no more, and so I walked past him, opened the door, and stepped into the cold night air.

  The icy breath in my lungs woke the wild girl who’d been sleeping within me. She thrilled at the thought of total freedom. Fly, Jax.

  I stepped off the path and headed toward the trees.

  The silvery moonlight disappeared. In the dark blue sky, a massive shadow of black circled above us. Before I reached the trees, she was on the ground in front of me, the wound in her leg a pink scar against her green scales. Her golden eyes shone in the darkness. The long, barbed tail swung in lazy arcs through the air. She folded her legs beneath her, pressing her belly to the ground, and lowered her head.

  I’ll miss you, too. Thank you. For everything. I changed direction to walk around her.

  She shifted to block my way again.

  I have to go.

  My steps came to a sudden halt when she grabbed my pack in her teeth. Her hold was gentle and unbreakable.

  What would you have me do?

  She released me and used her head to nudge me closer to her. I reached out and petted the smooth, glittering scales of her long neck. Her nose nudged my bottom, nearly lifting me from my feet. An absurd idea came to mind. You want me to ride on you?

  She nudged my bottom again before pressing herself as flat against the ground as possible.

  I reached up and used the steel-like scales to lift myself. The place where her long neck met her body made a perfect little perch. My legs rested in the hollows in front of her wings. It was snug and secure until she stood. I lay flat against her body.

  Wolf raced from the trees and circled on the ground beneath me, yipping at us.

  My heart seized. Wolf! He’s alive! I can’t leave him! You have to let me down!

  But even as the thought came to me, we were rising toward the sky. My breath came in short, panicky gasps. Horror over leaving Wolf behind smothered any fear I might have had over riding the dragon's back.

  She circled the little camp.

  I saw Hala emerge from the cabin. He looked at Wolf, and then followed the animal's gaze.

  At this distance, his eyes were two pin pricks of green light in the cold night.

  The dragon turned, the tilt of her body forcing me to lean hard in the opposite direction. We were descending again, Hala watched, his mouth hanging open. She lifted Wolf in her powerful talons, and with a rush of wind and a flexing of muscles we headed upward and westward. Hala was left standing on the earth beneath us.

  The f
ast-moving air was bitter against my face. I pressed as close as I could, sheltering Nuttah between the dragon and my own body. The cold forced my eyes shut. The slow, powerful, rhythmic rising and falling of the dragon's wings marked the time. When I peeked through my lashes, I saw the earth slowly revealed by the rising sun. Great forests of grayish blue shadows gave way to vast rolling prairies colored orange by the sunrise.

  The sky above us turned blue as we soared through the air.

  My legs grew numb and useless, and still the wild fields stretched into the horizon.

  Nuttah shifted and squirmed, no doubt searching for a breast, but in this position, I was helpless to feed her.

  The wings lifted us, carried us onward. The world stretched out below us. How long would it have taken me to walk across this endless plain? A month? Maybe more, with the baby. I'd have to hunt and find shelter every night. What had made me think I was capable of such a thing?

  When the midday sun rose above us, the terrain drained of color. A vast desert stretched as far as I could see, dotted with wild, jagged mountains of bald rock that reminded me of the glaciers I'd known as a child.

  I would have died in this desert if the dragon hadn't carried me. I pressed close once more, gratitude easing the discomfort of sitting astride the beast for so long.

  The sun outpaced us, and we chased it toward the west. My body ached to be on the ground. I was frozen, hungry, and desperate to relieve myself. Nuttah’s diaper was soiled.

  Finally, the dragon descended toward a green valley that sloped toward a narrow harbor. She carried us down to a flat-top hill. Climbing down from her back on my numb legs without falling was impossible, except that she steadied me with her wing. A thousand needles stabbed my feet when my blood started circulating again. I stood for a long moment, holding the dragon’s side for support.

  Wolf nudged me with his snout and trotted away into the trees, perhaps to escape being caught up in the claws of a dragon and flown halfway across the world again.

  When I trusted myself to walk, I took care of my most immediate need and changed Nuttah into clean, dry clothes.