The Heart of Oldra

by Georgina Makalani

  She sometimes found him playing a game with Arminel in the Ancient’s cavern. It involved a wooden board with hollows carved in it, and small rounded rocks they moved between the hollows. It wasn’t a game she had ever worked out how to play, and she was never sure who won the games she did watch.

  She looked ahead for Deen and instead saw the carver, Tarn, waving her across to his hearth. Smiling, she walked towards him. She had somehow managed to lose her bow on a hunting trip, and her father had chided her over it ever since. She still wasn’t sure how it had happened. It was so well worn and familiar, and yet it had simply slipped from her hand. Dra had questioned if she was herself at the time. She had started to wonder if the repeated dreams of blue lights were impacting her days.

  ‘Hello?’ Tarn asked, and she blinked into his concerned face.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Did we talk about another bow, or did I dream it?’

  ‘Funny,’ she murmured to the man as he sat on the large mat by the fire and indicated that she join him. She remembered doing the same thing as a child, and then again when she was old enough and tall enough to carry a larger bow like her parents. Both had dragon-scale patterning, except Tarn’s father had made the first one. Tarn had worked with him for as long as Cora could remember. As his father aged, Tarn had done more and more until he became the carver. His own sons now sat with him on the mat, carving strips from chunks of wood.

  Cora reached out and lifted a handful of wooden curls to her nose. Her mother would often drop them in the fire, a playful glance across at Larek when she did, and Tarn would scold her like a child. They smelled sweet and, as much as Cora enjoyed the smell of them burning, she loved Tarn’s mother’s meat smoked with the wood better.

  ‘You have the replacement bow?’ she asked.

  ‘I would hope that you think of it more fondly than just a replacement,’ he murmured, reaching across the mat to collect a bow. ‘It isn’t finished yet. I wanted you to feel it.’

  ‘You are certainly taking some time with it,’ she said. ‘Father will send me with my first bow next time we hunt if it isn’t ready.’

  He laughed. ‘I imagine Pira thinks only of the needs of the cavern.’

  ‘There won’t be too much provided if I take that little thing out with me.’

  ‘I am surprised you still have it.’

  Cora shrugged. ‘We formed an attachment,’ she said. ‘Although my youngest brother teases me for it.’

  ‘He must be ready to ride out himself soon,’ Tarn said, looking in the direction of their hearth. ‘I am sure I saw some growth,’ he added, patting his chest.

  Cora shook her head. ‘He does not need the encouragement,’ she muttered.

  Tarn nodded once and then held out the bow. It wasn’t strung and appeared longer than it would once it was pulled back against itself. But the overall shape and length were similar to her last bow. She stood slowly, using the bow to support her, and then lifted it easily in one hand.

  ‘Is it too light?’ she asked, unsure whether it was just different from her last weapon.

  ‘It is a different wood,’ he said, climbing to his feet. His brows pulled together as he looked it over. ‘It could be that you have grown of late and are stronger than I remember.’

  Cora sighed. ‘I have not grown in some time. But perhaps I am stronger.’ She took the bow in her other hand and tested its weight. It was very smooth and felt comfortable in her hand. ‘Have you thought of a design?’ she asked, handing it back.

  ‘I thought I would wait for the wood to tell me. I’ll bring it to you when it is ready.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Cora said, bowing her head in farewell. Then she headed back to her family’s hearth. She wasn’t as focused on those around her, and she knew her mother would be preparing the midday meal soon. She tried to help when she could and keep watch over her brothers. Dra was at the hearth when she returned, and she greeted him first.

  ‘I thought you had disappeared,’ she whispered as she rubbed her face against his. The large silver dragon pressed forward to meet her.

  We explored a little further, he purred inside her head. I found a place where the turvie grow large.

  ‘As large as a dragon?’

  ‘And you didn’t bring us any?’ her mother asked, her back to them as she stirred the contents of a pot over the flames.

  Cora tried not to sigh. Both of her parents, as Oldra, could hear all the dragons. Even though she fought against her mother’s ideas of everything else, Cora loved the constant conversation with the dragons, but it was never private. Arminel had the same skill, and yet it appeared he chose not to listen.

  Do you have your new bow yet? I am keen to show you what I have found.

  Cora shook her head and leaned into the great dragon. As the eldest, he was the leader of the dragons, although he had only stayed by Cora growing up while Ariandi had been more of a leader. Unlike her father, where little trails of grey gave away his experience and age, Dra was older than she could ever know.

  It was because she was Oldra that Dra had connected to her at such a young age. Unlike other children of the Penna, she had slept against him most nights and learnt to climb up on his tall shoulders and fly out into the wind. Her mother always smiled when she did. Others looked more nervous, and yet it was as though that was where she was meant to be. Dra had chosen her, and that was all there was to it.

  The Draga warriors were the only other members of the clan able to select dragons, or at least go out into the world and hope to find them, when they were deemed ready to fight. Although it had been some time since the Penna had needed to fight, it had been their way for so long that the traditions had continued.

  Despite her longing to be like the others, Cora’s connection to Dra was strong and she never wanted to be parted from him. Nestling down against him, she watched her mother work over the fire. Cora tried to imagine the woman taking on the dragonlight directly and wondered if her mother would ever tell her how she had managed to survive.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning, Cora woke to the frantic calls of her mother echoing through the cavern. Cora jumped up and ran after her just as the woman’s white tunic disappeared through the main doors. The cavern was still quiet, other than the slow waking of others at the noise her mother had made, and Cora realised the dragons hadn’t returned.

  Her mother held the large hide back at the mouth of the cavern, looking out into the dark and then back to the dimly lit crystal trees of the front cavern that marked the burial places of the Ancients. Cora had heard many stories of Wyndha, the last female Draga and Ancient who had died before the battle with the darkness. She also knew that her mother still missed her, as much as her own mother, only she had no mark of where she was.

  ‘What has happened?’ Cora asked, reaching out. Her mother jumped. ‘You should transition,’ Cora suggested as she changed her own skin to the hard, icy shell that protected her from the cold.

  Her mother shook her head and looked out again into the dark.

  ‘Mama,’ Cora said loudly, drawing her attention.

  ‘Your brother has run off.’

  ‘He wouldn’t go too far. He is probably hiding with his friends somewhere. Did you try the warm room?’

  ‘I know he isn’t in the cavern,’ her mother answered softly.

  ‘The birthing chamber? There are many who sneak off to hide in there of a night. I...’ Cora wasn’t quite sure what she was about to tell her mother, but her look of surprise made Cora gulp back whatever it was she was going to say.

  ‘Deen?’ her mother asked.

  Cora shook her head. She had hidden there at times with Deen when they were children, and perhaps once or twice since they’d grown. But it wasn’t as her mother imagined.

  ‘Why would he run off?’ she asked instead.

  ‘He thinks he is ready to be a Draga, and he wanted to prove to your father just how grown he is.’

  ‘This is something a child would do,�
�� Cora murmured. ‘Did the dragons go with him, or he with them?’

  Her mother shook her head. Cora closed her eyes. She knew the answer to that herself. They would have shared the knowledge, and all the dragons had riders.

  ‘Is anyone else missing?’ she asked.

  Her mother let the curtain drop and turned back to Cora. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Let’s check first and if needed, I will go and find him.’

  ‘Thank you,’ her mother said softly, throwing her arms around Cora’s shoulders. ‘I just knew he was gone, and I wasn’t sure what I could do.’

  ‘We’ll find him. Where is Father?’ Cora asked as she led her mother back into the warmth of the cavern.

  ‘Searching.’

  Cora nodded. She wondered if her mother had seen this coming. She might have tried to stop him if she had. Yet, her mother had never tried to influence them based on what she might have seen.

  ‘What do you see?’ Cora asked, unable to keep her curiosity to herself.

  ‘Not Wyn,’ her mother said sadly.

  They stopped at the first hearth to ask if everyone was well and if anyone had seen Wyn. The responses were the same at each hearth they visited. Cora left her mother and tried hearths on the other side of the cavern, including Deen’s. Darring was sitting at the table while Temma leant over a pot on the fire. Deen’s younger sister, Junah, was still curled in her sleeping mat. Cora couldn’t see Deen.

  ‘He has gone out early,’ Temma said without turning.

  ‘Wyn has run away,’ Cora said quickly. ‘I was wondering if you had seen him.’

  Temma turned then, her brows creased. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Might he have gone with Deen?’ Cora asked.

  Darring looked up from his bowl. ‘Why would he do that?’

  ‘Mama is desperate,’ Cora said. ‘He thinks he should be training as a Draga. She fears he has gone to prove himself.’

  ‘Did he take his bow?’

  Cora nodded.

  ‘I think Deen would have sought Pira’s permission before taking his youngest into the woods. Although there are times that boy is still trying to prove something.’

  Temma rested her hand on her mate’s shoulder. Cora wasn’t sure what he might mean, but it wasn’t the time to be trying to work it out. Wyn was very much like Cora had been as a child, yet she had been given more freedoms because she was Oldra. The dragons could keep a close eye on her, so she had often headed out and hunted with them without either of her parents when she’d been younger than Wyn was now.

  She sighed. Theirs was a difficult family to grow up in. Despite the openness, and despite their considerate and accepting parents, they were the clan’s chiefs. Her mother was also a healer and seer. She would likely take Arminel’s place as Ancient when the old man eventually went to Essara. And they’d been encouraged growing up to do all they could to be of use to the rest of the people.

  Cora had only some of her mother’s gifts, but she trained with the Ancient. Her brother Ayden had their father’s skill with the sword and bow, and he had easily become one of the best hunters the clan had seen. He had found a dragon in the woods when he’d been sent to become a man. The beast had joined the rest of the clan and dragons with ease.

  Cora looked around the cavern. The dragons had still not returned, and it made her a little nervous. With four dragons at their hearth, she felt the space they left when they were out. She wasn’t sure how they could cope with a fifth, but Wyn was desperate to be like his brother and father.

  ‘Anything?’ her mother asked, finding Cora standing in the middle of the cavern.

  Cora shook her head. ‘Can I borrow your bow?’ she asked. ‘Mine isn’t ready, and I would rather be out looking in the snow.’

  Her mother nodded and then shook her head.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked, trying to read her mother’s expression.

  ‘Go to Tarn.’

  Cora looked towards the carver’s hearth at the far end of the cavern and felt a pull like she did when Dra needed her. She headed off at a fast walk. Only when she was nearly there did she wonder if her mother had called by this hearth and asked about Wyn.

  Tarn stood staring into the fire when she arrived. He turned sleepy eyes towards her, then held the bow in his hand out to her without ceremony.

  ‘Did mother wake you?’ she asked.

  He shook his head. ‘I dreamt of your bow and was up early finishing the carving.’

  Cora took it and again wondered at the weight of it. The wood was soft to the touch, and it felt different from her previous weapon. She turned it slightly and then lifted her arm. It wasn’t the time to argue that this might not be to his usual standard. She caught sight of the carving, which was also different from her previous bow’s.

  A vine appeared to grow along the edge of the bow. It disappeared on the hand hold, and Cora realised Tarn had tied soft, thin leather around the space. That was why it felt so soft to the touch. But the stem and leaves of the vine twisted up and along the rest of the bow as though growing from where she held it.

  ‘I don’t recognise the plant,’ she whispered.

  He shook his head. ‘Neither do I, but it is what it is.’

  In some ways, the leaves reminded her of the crystal tree that grew from Wyndha’s grave, yet it was something very different. Cora had a brother to find, and she didn’t have the time to be debating artwork with a carver. She bowed towards him in thanks, and he grinned.

  ‘Go and find the boy,’ he said, rubbing at his eye with the heel of his hand as he tried to stifle a yawn.

  She ran towards her own hearth. There were less people around, even for the early morning, and she wondered if they were all out searching for the wayward boy. Her mother stood stock still before the fire at their hearth, her eyes closed.

  ‘I’m going to find him,’ Cora said, reaching for her sheath of arrows. ‘And I’ll find the dragons on the way.’

  Her mother nodded and then turned to her, reaching out for the bow. She sucked in a breath before closing her eyes again. Cora waited, but she simply released her hold and turned back to the fire without opening her eyes.

  ‘Go,’ her mother whispered.

  Cora turned and raced to the doors, which already stood open to the cold. Out in the snow, the wind pulled tendrils from her plait before she transitioned. The hard ice shell protected her from the cold, and she closed her hand tighter around her bow. It felt warm in her hand. She put the other hand to the strap of her sheath, just to reassure herself that it was still there. She reached out for the dragons. Although she could sense them, they were far away.

  The hunting is good, Dra hummed in her mind. The boy will not be far. Perhaps he has found a dragon of his own after all.

  Cora wondered what he could mean. They would surely know if another dragon had found its way to a Draga. But was Wyn ready to be a Draga yet? She struggled to remember when Ayden had found his dragon. He might have been a similar age, yet it seemed as though his dragon had lived at their hearth forever. What was it that prevented Wyn from being the man he was so desperate to be? Had Cora’s mother seen something she wasn’t willing to share that had prevented her from letting him go?

  Her mother’s reaction to the bow had been unexpected. What had she seen that had made her react so? But she had still sent Cora out into the world, so it wasn’t death or danger, or she might have protected her from that too.

  When Cora was younger, she had asked her mother what she saw for her, but her mother would only smile. ‘You will be what you will be,’ she would say. ‘Knowing it will make no difference to either of us.’

  There were times Cora had wondered if her mother might have seen something she didn’t want for Cora, or something that might make her worry. But either way, she would not share it. There were times when she had woken tearstained before the birth of a child, and Cora had known the birth would not go as the mother hoped. But it was not something their people talked about, an
d Cora could only offer silent comfort to her mother.

  She sucked in a deep breath. No matter what she thought her mother might want for her or what she might see, it wouldn’t help her find her youngest brother. Wyn had always wanted more than he could have. Even when he was little, he would take balls and the like from other children and their father would march him across the cavern to return what he had taken. When Cora had her first bow, Wyn had spent the first hour of her return to the hearth trying to take it from her hands, although he was only just walking on his own.

  Yet, he had been much older than she had been when he received his first bow. For Ayden, their father had insisted on a bow from the moment he was old enough to close his hand around it. Perhaps if her brothers had been treated the same, Wyn might not have wanted for as much, but then her parents always had a good reason for everything they did.

  Cora looked up in the sky then, longing for Dra to appear and carry her away, but he didn’t. She knew the dragons were still some distance away. The snow was thick, but it had been trampled down by the entrance to the cavern. Footprints disappeared too quickly in the snow as others searched for her brother.

  It didn’t take long for Cora to get into the thick of the forest, the trees closing in around her and blocking out the early morning light. It was the first time she had come out alone, she realised as she stepped up onto the tall root structure of a tree. There had always been someone or a dragon with her, and the silence now was momentarily overwhelming.

  She closed her eyes, remembering a story her mother had once told her of the snow. But the snow didn’t talk to Cora, nor did it appear to give her any hints as to where her brother might be.

  Unable to feel anything around her, she wondered what other skills she might have. Her mother was so determined that Cora would be something great, and yet she had nothing. Only the dreams, but they were always of the past, even if it wasn’t her own. For a moment she could see blue light amongst the trees, and she shook her head. She hoped the dreams weren’t preparing her for her own loss.