“I can see the bond you have, but I would ask if all is right. Even now, your face shows you’re not sure. The journey? Has it sown doubt?” said Aslara, as if she had read Trista’s mind.
“Doubt? She’s never said anything about doubt,” said Trista, troubled.
“Maybe it isn’t her doubt.”
Trista did not have an immediate answer. Aslara left her with her thoughts, using the remaining time they had to rest. Trista tried to get some sleep as well, but Aslara’s words kept running in her head. The heat did little to help her fall asleep. She felt weak, sweaty and filthy. She wished she had been able to bathe in the ruined city’s water basin, like Dalkeira had done. Feel the cool water on her skin, as if she was back in the ocean.
When she eventually fell asleep, Trista's old dreams returned. The heat transformed to fire, surrounding her without escape. She searched for a way out and remembered the water. She looked up into the sky, darkened by smoke, wishing, begging for the cold water to descend. But it did not come; not a drop. Dalkeira’s voice never spoke. The fire crawled closer and closer until she started to feel her skin burning. Then the fire rushed toward her and engulfed her whole.
Startled, Trista opened her eyes, her skin wet from sweat. Seeing the strange tree towering over her, she lay back on the ground. Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes, trying to catch some more sleep, knowing full well it was not going to happen.
During the following days, Aslara continuously led them northwest. The dry vegetation increased, but rarely did it grow far above Trista’s head. The sporadic trees all seemed wrinkled and knotted, the bare branches waving gently in the wind. They encountered five other Pillars of Life, each larger and older than the previous one. Aslara poured a little bit of water at the feet of each huge tree, mumbling a few gentle words. When Trista asked her what she was doing, their guide explained that she wished to ask for permission to cross the land, to express her intent to do no harm beyond the need to survive. It reminded Trista a lot of the way her own people were taught to live in unison with the ocean.
At the end of the second day, dark clouds formed on the horizon. With the flat landscape, they could see the clouds coming from miles away. The temperature lowered slightly at first as the sun disappeared behind the dark layer in the angry-looking sky. But it soon felt like the clouds pressed all the heat together, making the air hot and clammy.
Trista longed to feel the raindrops fall on her face, but as the world darkened, still no water came forth. Instead, lightning crackled amongst the clouds creating a complicated show of illumination, while loud bangs of thunder rumbled over their heads, as if some angry animal was growling at them from above.
Dalkeira was fascinated by the display of power. To her, the entire sky seemed to flow like the ocean, the constant movement of waves set ablaze by the sharp lines of lightning. It carried on through the evening without so much as a drop reaching the red earth. When it eventually cleared up, the stars had filled the sky and the baby was finally able to fall back asleep now that the thunder stopped.
Apart from when the storm passed over, Dalkeira spent most of her time in the air, only coming down to rest her wings and sleep, or enjoy a small meal and some water. It was clear the dragon did not approve much of their current company, but Trista could not figure out what Dalkeira found so unnerving about their guide. Aslara seemed calm and decisive in her ways. She had answered all questions Trista asked up till now and none of the answers had sounded suspicious or loaded with secrecy.
The village they were headed for was on the edge of a small mountain range they could now see in the distance. They would be able to rest there for as long as they liked and regain their strength. Aslara said they would be expected to earn their keep as soon as they were capable, just like everybody else, which to Trista seemed like a natural, and logical, thing to expect in such a difficult and harsh environment.
The desert tibu was rarely far from Aslara’s side. The animal seemed to have plenty of stamina, able to survive on the barely edible vegetation that crossed their path. Trista had seen it use its horns to unearth the roots of small plants, though it usually ate the dry bark of twigs and yellow grass as a main source of food.
“It’s remarkable how easily she returns to your side every time. Doesn’t she ever wander off?” said Trista after the animal had rejoined them once again.
“She’s a good friend. She wouldn’t just leave us here.”
“Is she yours? I mean, your sha’cara?” said Trista.
“No,” Aslara answered with a smile. “She’s a sha’crow. A helper or supporter.”
“Sha’crow? You mentioned that before, when you first saw Dalkeira. What’s the difference?”
“One can have many sha’crow. Our people learn to train them from a very young age. But you’ll only have one sha’cara in your life. That sha’cara chooses you,” Aslara explained calmly. “While it’s true that some sha’crow offer themselves on special occasions, more often they’re captured and trained.”
“And these animals never leave? Escape?”
“Some do, but that’s usually when the training is still underway. Some species more than others,” said Aslara.
“Was that the reason you were at the ruined city? To capture one of those, uh, lizards?”
“Baell’wek. And sort of. Or at least I thought I was, until I saw you.”
“What do you mean?” said Trista.
“I think I was meant to save you. Why? I’m not sure yet, but I hope things will become clear when we reach the village.”
It was the first time Trista noticed Aslara did not give a straight answer.
“I told you. She is hiding something,” Dalkeira said later when Trista mentioned it to her.
“Maybe,” said Trista privately, right before Dalkeira took off again.
The extra flying was doing Dalkeira good. Her flying muscles were building up a lot quicker now, even with the limited amount of food she was getting. The downside was that she was still constantly hungry, but after surviving the desert she deemed it a minor inconvenience. She had become more practiced in finding the hot air streams going upward, allowing her to stay in flight longer without using too much energy. Her skill in turns and other aerial movements seemed to increase as well.
The small rudder wings near Dalkeira’s shoulders were now actively involved with flying as well, allowing the dragon to make tiny adjustments while the larger wings remained motionless gliding through the air.
Dalkeira’s bird’s-eye view gave her excellent oversight of their surroundings. In the distance, she saw several of the Pillar of Life trees spread across the landscape. If she concentrated, she could even make out the roots breaking through the surface here and there. Some of them literally ran for miles in every direction, connecting with the roots of other trees far away.
She was still amazed every time they passed one of the large trees. Her eyes could not actually see the water inside them, but she sensed it, running in tiny streams in the trunk, down into the ground along the roots.
Below her, Trista and the others were crossing a dried-up riverbed and decided to follow it. The deep red groove ran across the land from the mountains in the northwest all the way toward them. The mountains, or rather mountain from the looks of it, reminded Dalkeira of the island’s cliffs, its shape not running into a pointy tip, but more as if someone had pushed part of the land straight up, forming a raised plateau. She tried to spot the village at the base or on top of the strangely shaped mountain, but did not see anything of the kind.
The shrubbery on both sides of the riverbed was now higher than before, providing cover for any larger species that might come roaming the lands in search of water. But rarely did Dalkeira spot any large animals traveling the red earth beneath her; only smaller ones that could live off the morning dew that formed on the vegetation during the cold nights.
Once, she spotted a half-decayed carcass with a very long neck, too decomposed to eat. She had se
en two striped donkeys off in the distance, but she lost track of them as their own little group moved in the other direction. Several times, Dalkeira was passed by birds in the air, large and small, none of which seemed bothered by the larger flying dragon. But that was about it. It was strange to see so few animals in comparison to the space available. The biggest groups she saw were only two or three animals strong, most of which had horns similar to the desert tibu, but more curved.
Those animals Dalkeira did see were either too large to kill, or too small to be bothered with. She would have liked to try and hunt one of those strange donkeys, but it would not be a quick hunt and she did not want to leave Trista alone with Aslara for too long just in case she was right about the strange desert woman. In the meantime, she slowly felt her hunger increase again since her last meal.
Then, as the group below her continued their path through the dry riverbed, Dalkeira’s eyes caught a flash of brown and white. The movement amongst the high shrubbery piqued her interest by being just the right size to hunt. She banked toward the spot where she had seen something move, increasing her speed to get in front of Trista and the others down below. A tiny group of three animals carefully walked amongst the bushes, nibbling on the branches. They were like miniaturized versions of the desert tibu—perhaps a related species. Their bodies were much smaller, small enough to allow a quick and clean kill. And they only had one small set of horns on their head, which Dalkeira expected would pose little threat to her scales.
She turned her head to check on the siblings then decided to get herself a swift meal. She bent into a low dive. Almost instantly, one of the animals raised its head and let out a high-pitched call. Dalkeira opened her wings and leveled off, ready to throw her claws forward. By now the animals had broken out into a run amongst the shrubbery. Dalkeira quickly closed the gap between them with the speed of her dive, and threw out her hind legs to pounce on the nearest of the three runners. Had she been bigger, Dalkeira would simply have picked the animal up with her front legs, but for now she needed the power of her hind legs to take it down.
But just when Dalkeira thought she was successful, the small animal leaped straight into the air, dodging its attacker. All three animals started bouncing all over the place, changing directions so quickly Dalkeira’s wide turns could not keep up. Their thin legs acted as springs, almost instantly launching into the air again as soon as their little hooves touched the ground. The dragon attempted several more times, but the animals’ speed and agility made them impossible to catch.
After the fifth failed attempt, Dalkeira found herself on the ground, breathing heavily from the effort she had put in. As the last of the jumping animals disappeared into the shrubs, she looked up at the sun and reluctantly took back to the air. With every foot of altitude gained, her level of annoyance and frustration increased as well.
“Had any luck?”
It was Trista’s voice in her head.
“I do not like this land very much. There is not enough water and the animals are not behaving as they should,” said Dalkeira. “I wish it would rain. I barely see a sparkle of water in the air.”
“Don’t give up too fast. You haven’t really hunted in a while. I’m sure you’ll have more success next time.”
Dalkeira rejoined the group on the ground and took up position beside Trista.
“I am tired. Are we getting close?”
“Aslara said it isn’t much further. We’re to visit one more of those life trees and spend the night there. She said the village is about half a day’s travel from there on out.”
Dalkeira did not mind visiting another of those trees. She felt relaxed when she was close to them. Her dreams were always pleasant when near them, as if the trees helped clear her mind. She dreamed of beautiful songs carried across the red plains.
When they arrived at the Pillar of Life, Aslara took her time to do her ritual of gratitude. Afterward, she made a small fire at a safe distance from the large tree. Instead of hunting, she dug up a tightly-tied package buried at the base of the tree. It was filled with thick roots and herbs and a pot containing a full water bag.
Aslara spent some time cutting the roots into smaller pieces and adding them to the water in the pot. As she cooked it over the fire, it became a strong-smelling soup to which Aslara patiently added the herbs, one after another.
Dalkeira retreated to a place close to the tree when it became clear no meat would be served today. Aslara had offered part of the soup to her, but the dragon had refused, doubting it would taste good. She lay quietly with her head under her wing, pretending to sleep while the others ate.
The soup had an excellent strong taste, slightly on the salty side. It was a welcome change in flavor after eating almost nothing but meat for weeks. The baby also seemed pleased with the taste, allowing Trista to get a good deal of water inside her as well. Trista was happy the little child had been able to withstand all the hardships they encountered. Tomorrow they would reach the village where she hoped the child would be safe.
“What will happen to her tomorrow?” asked Decan, who had been thinking along similar lines.
“I guess she will stay in the village.”
“We’re not going to take her with us when we leave? Or will we stay there as well?”
Decan had grown attached to the little dark girl, especially after all the times the small child had brightened their days—if only for a bit—with her giggles.
Trista knew how he felt. While they had only traveled together for a short time, to be responsible for something so innocent and helpless…it had made them care deeply for the child.
“I don’t know. First, we need to rest. It does not look like there are any soldiers here or else Aslara would have mentioned them, so perhaps we should stay. But Dalkeira still wants to go further west. If we do, we’ve got no idea what we might run into on the road.”
Decan looked at her with disappointment on his face.
“I understand how you feel, but we can’t take her with us. She needs to be somewhere safe, don’t you think? We need to think of what’s best for her.”
Decan thought about that for a moment and gave a reluctant nod.
When they had eaten and Decan was fast asleep together with the baby, Trista tried to gather her thoughts and think of the way forward.
If everything looks good, perhaps he should stay behind as well.
She watched her little brother sleep. She did not like the idea much, but it was probably the safest thing to do.
While Aslara quietly tended to the desert tibu, Dalkeira joined Trista, whose gaze was turned to the south. In the distance, another storm flashed and rumbled as large, dark clouds traveled the skies.
“Couldn’t sleep yet?”
Dalkeira shook her head.
“I wish it would rain,” Dalkeira said quietly, looking longingly at the distant clouds.
“Me too.”
They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. When Trista looked to the side, she saw Dalkeira looking back at her.
“What?” asked Trista privately.
For a moment, it looked like Dalkeira was about to say something, but hesitated.
“Nothing. Never mind,” said the dragon, after which she got up and walked back to the tree to try and sleep again.
Trista watched the dragon, wondering what Dalkeira had wanted to say. A thin sliver of doubt trickled into her subconscious as the dragon lay back down. Trista could not help but wonder if Dalkeira was thinking about the connection between them. It felt off ever since they left the buried city. Perhaps even before that.
Her thoughts once again returned to her little brother. Perhaps they should both stay at the village if they were welcome…and let Dalkeira go on by herself. After all, the dragon would be able to travel much faster without them and follow her journey to the west. After some pondering, she gave up with a sigh. She would not be able to make such a choice quickly, or easily. She followed Dalkeira’s exam
ple and lay back to get some much-needed sleep.
The next morning, Trista was woken by Aslara softly shaking her shoulder. Feeling reasonably rested, Trista rubbed her eyes, glad the recurring dream had not shown its face that night. Aslara said something to her, but her head was still groggy from sleep.
“What?” said Trista.
“Where’s Decan?” asked Aslara again, more urgently. “I came back from a quick walk around and he was gone.”
Instantly wide awake, Trista looked at the spot where Decan and the baby had been sleeping. Neither were there. She looked at Dalkeira and saw the baby lay peacefully sleeping beside her.
“Dalkeira! Wake up! Decan is gone!”
“What? What is it?” The dragon sounded sleepy.
“Decan is missing. Do you know where he is?” Trista asked, this time inside the dragon’s head.
The dragon almost jumped up, noticing just in time the sleeping baby snuggled against her side. She looked up angrily.
“I do not know. She must have taken him while I was asleep,” said Dalkeira, glaring at Aslara.
Trista stared at Aslara, who seemed as calm as ever, then back at the dragon.
“Don’t be absurd. Why would she do that?”
“Well, she is not denying it, is she?” said Dalkeira, matching Trista’s tone.
“I don’t react to foolish accusations,” said Aslara calmly.
“Look, I don’t know what your problem is with Aslara, but you’re not helping,” said Trista angrily. She picked up the baby, the movement so sudden the child woke and started to cry.
“Why don’t you do something useful? Take to the air and see if you can spot him!”
Trista felt frustration burn inside her. She did not understand why Dalkeira was being so problematic about Aslara when her brother was missing.
Wavebreaker (Book II of the Stone War Chronicles): Part 1 - Trickle Page 43
