57. In the darkness
57
IN THE DARKNESS
An earth dragon might have warned Anahrod of the danger, but neither Neveranimas nor Peralon were earth dragons. Perhaps more importantly, neither were foolish enough, desperate enough to try what she just had. The problem was not that the Cauldron was a volcano, or rather, the problem was not that volcanoes were creations of fire and stone.
The problem was this: active volcanoes were children .
Any active volcano was a budding child, still tied to their mother’s magma-hot apron strings, still sucking at her teats. Volcanoes were fed by the pressures and geological movements that had borne them and they were still joined with their parent.
To become one with the Cauldron was to become one with the world.
Anahrod’s problem was diving too deep. Those few seconds were a lifetime’s temptation. At first, she wondered if this was what it was like to be a dragon, her affinity tied to the earth and all the fires beneath it, but it was more. She perched on the edge of being joined to something that never judged, never lied, was never hateful, or ambitious, or cruel. The world only ever told the truth, with endless, infinite patience.
But if the world was never cruel, it was also never kind. It showed no compassion, couldn’t forgive, and held no capacity to love. Its truth was as hard and unyielding as one might expect of stone.
She dragged herself back after a few seconds that lasted years. She dragged herself back and remembered that her name was Anahrod. She dragged herself back, and then threw herself forward again, this time into the inky black chasm of Ivarion’s mind.
She made it just in time.
Ivarion appeared much the same as his sleeping form in the Cauldron, but he was smaller, younger. At first, she thought he slept there, too, until he opened his red eyes.
[Ivarion?] She stepped forward.
Nothing surrounded them. Just blackness, everywhere, except for Ivarion, except for her. Space didn’t matter here. Likely, neither did time.
[Is that who I am?] He sounded faintly puzzled.
[It is. My name is Anahrod, and I’m here to free you.]
He narrowed his eyes, more in confusion than anger. [From what?]
She stared at him. [Don’t you know that you’re trapped? You’ve been asleep for a hundred years.] Anahrod found it difficult to summon up the proper feeling, but she made her best effort.
A hundred years wasn’t that long to a dragon—or a mountain.
[That sounds bad.] He was just being polite.
[Problem is, for me to do that—] She took a deep breath. Why was she doing this again? Oh yes, to free Seven Crests, countless people, and the Deep from Neveranimas. To try to change things, this time from the inside—
The dragon gave her a strange look as she laughed. Anahrod wasn’t sure how to explain that the universe seemed done with subtlety.
She cleared her throat. [For me to help you, I would have to become your bonded rider.]
[Oh,] Ivarion said.
There was a silence, and then he asked, [Don’t I have one of those?]
[You remember? That’s a good sign. Yes, you did. Do you remember his name?]
He gazed at her sadly. [I haven’t the slightest idea.]
Ivarion had only been bonded to his rider for a few days before Neveranimas had struck. Perhaps he truly didn’t remember. [It was Varriguhl,] she told him. [Although that was a hundred years ago. He’s dead now.] She’d get into specifics later.
[And you want to take his place?] Ivarion suddenly looked distrustful. [Why? You don’t know me. We might hate each other.]
Anahrod raised her arms in faux surrender. [I know! Believe me, I know. I have the same concerns. But if I can’t wake you up, terrible things are going to happen by the claws of a dragon who’s only in charge because she’s kept you asleep. People I love might die.] She paused. [Already have died. And people you love might die, too. So, I must trust that you—that you won’t mind how imperfect I am. And I’ll try my hardest to do the same for you.] She swallowed, suddenly full of nerves and dread. [If I had a different option, believe me, I would offer it. I won’t force you to accept though—]
[ Could you force me?] Ivarion sounded intrigued by the idea.
Slowly, Anahrod nodded. [Probably. Yes. I have a lot of power over dragons. But I don’t want to be the person who would only ever use that power to my benefit, at the expense of everyone else.]
If this were anywhere else, she’d roll her eyes before Claw had the chance, accuse herself of being unforgivably trite and lying to everyone, herself most of all.
She didn’t think she could lie there. There was still enough of the mountain to this place to forbid it. Or maybe that was just a result of being in Ivarion’s mind.
Anahrod tried to smile. [So, what do you say?]