16. Cycles Ago.
Cycles Ago...
E ad Tajawl was descended from Dragonriders and queens, but her stomach was a twisted bundle of nerves as she stood before the Mother’s Womb consumed with thoughts of fire and flight.
Ead went to the Mother's Womb because once upon a time, it was the place to hatch dragons. For the last nine hundred cycles, the mountain had been dormant and cold, but Ead supposed she'd find a way inside and travel downward towards the Crust. There must still be fire there because it was where the dragons slumbered.
But the Mother always watches over her children. Ead's climb would not be down, but up.
Ead blinked in surprise when she first spotted the orange lava that drooled, thick and slow, from the peak of the Mother's Womb. She blinked many times to be sure she witnessed reality and not the fires that flickered inside her own mind.
But it was real. The Mother’s Womb had woken up.
That made her laugh. Many things did lately, she noticed. Anything surprising or delightful or devastating. Her emotions had transfused into a single fluid stream—they were either up or down. It was strange, but she did not give it much thought. Only noticed it, without emotion. It did not make her laugh.
But the thought of climbing up the side of the Mother did. She hadn’t relished the idea of digging tunnels to reach the Crust, but she was not eager either to climb the tallest mountain on the continent to reach the open hole at the top. She wished there was a slot at the bottom where she could shove the egg inside. But at least the climb would be simple, if not easy. She would drop the egg into the mouth and that was all there was to it.
As she climbed, Ead considered what came next. Though she dreamt of the Rebirth and imagined a great destiny for herself, she hadn't thought past finding the egg. Now she realized that she must become a ruler. When Asherah was born, she would need a strong, unified people ready to serve and protect her.
Ead didn't know how long it would take Asherah to hatch. The ancient texts said it might be cycles or decades. The Mother’s Womb was only just warming up. She might warm slowly like the stone oven Ead’s mother cooked in.
That would be fine, Ead thought, because it would take time to unite the disparate hordes who roved the Broken Realm. Perhaps it also would take time to learn to rule them. She'd only ever bossed around her little sister before.
Fire licked Ead’s insides, filling her with the warmth of hope even as her trudge up the mountainside made her skin feel colder and colder. Why was it so frigid up here when liquid fire burnt so close by? Ead did not know or care. She scavenged for food and guzzled fresh water. The egg grew excited. At least, she imagined this was the reason it grew warmer.
“Soon, my child,” she crooned to it. She’d taken to carrying it under her arm as she walked, though she did not know why. It made it harder to catch herself when she stumbled, and her elbows were covered in scrapes.
Was it right to call a dragon her child? Yes, it was. She was Asherah’s mother in this life. The ancient god would be born again from her blood, her sweat, her belief.
A lava flow blocked Ead’s path to the peak. She stared forlornly past the blockade. She was almost at the top and the wide open mouth yawned, beckoning her. She imagined dropping the egg inside and watching it fall into the lava lake below. It would float for a moment on the surface, and then sink, and be consumed. This was as it should be. But she could not reach the place.
Instinct urged Ead to put her foot forward. It galled her to think of turning back. But if she continued, the lava would burn away her feet and she would die here, and the egg would come to rest in this lava stream, which might carry it down the mountain and away from the pool of the Mother’s heat within.
No, no, that wouldn’t do. What a silly thing for her mind to suggest. She meant to meet her child. To ride her dragon. To lead her people out of the dark age. She had to be alive for that. Ead blinked to clear the thoughts of fire that danced in her mind.
There must be a way to get closer. Ead backed down the mountain some, found another path up, and began to climb again. She made it further this time, but again was stopped by a thick river of fire.
She huffed, irritated to be so close and yet so far away from her goal. No laughter bubbled from her now. Her slitted emerald irises stared with intensity at her obstacles. She closed her eyes to track them in the Threadworld and gasped at the brightness of the Threads of the Mother's Womb. Then she backtracked down the mountain again.
An image appeared in her mind, unbidden, of herself hopping into the lava river like a child in a puddle during the wet season. Liquid fire droplets splattered around her and she laughed.
Ead blinked the picture away. She came back up the mountain and found the same blocks as before.
“Gahhhhhhhh,” she screamed. The air, hollow up here and empty of life, swallowed the sound. If only she had wings, she could fly the egg to the top. Maybe that’s how it was done in the days of old.
Ead took the egg out from under her arm. “Maybe I could just drop you in the lava river,” she said to it. “Would that be enough?”
She knew it would not. The egg would roll down the mountainside, tumbling over itself until it accidentally got shoved out of the river and onto rock. It must go in the Womb.
The egg did not seem to like the idea either. It grew so hot that Ead cried out and nearly dropped it. She placed it carefully on the rocky soil instead and stepped back, shaking her hands. The egg was glowing, lines of copper accentuating its scale pattern. The red heat baking it was so intense, Ead felt it on her shins and took another step back. The red-black glow on the surface of the dragonstone danced like a bed of coals. Ead stared, entranced. Was it about to hatch?
No, that couldn’t be. It needed heat and she'd offered it little. She must keep on.
But the egg must be too hot to carry. Ead ripped her clothes. She would fashion a sash to help her hold it. It was then that she noticed that her palms were unburnt. She stared at them. The skin was not even red. Not a single blister marred their surface. They didn’t hurt anymore either.
The flames in Ead's mind swayed in their hypnotic dance. As if in a daze, Ead took a step closer to the egg. Then another. She bent down and laid the flat of her palm against the surface.
An offering to the ancient gods, she thought, expecting to hear a sizzle and the horrible smell of burning flesh. But the gods did not want her offering. She lifted her hand away and stared at it, amazed. She was whole.
Now the laughter came. Why did she laugh? Thrill and terror and elation and horror were a soup inside her as she gathered the egg into her arms like a precious child. She cradled it tight against her stomach and laughed over the hiss of her clothes burning away where the egg touched fabric. Not looking down, Ead took a step up the mountain. Another.
She'd heard of this. It was said in the ancient books that the Tajawl kings and queens born during the Age of Dragons had the power of fire. But her father certainly didn't. Ead had thought the magic a myth, or at least, long-lost. That she had it felt like proof that her dreams had been given to her by the gods. She stepped forward with renewed confidence. Rider. Ruler. Queen. She would be all these things and more—whatever the gods required. She swore it, a solemn vow.
When Ead stepped into the lava river, her boots burned away. The texture of the land became slippery and strange. She slipped on rocks and the sharp edges of them hurt her bare feet, which made her laugh harder. Imagine complaints of a cut as she swam through a river of fire.
The feeling of power that flowed in her was intoxicating. She wanted to throw out her arms and fall back into the fire and float in it. She shouldn't do such silly things. But why not? Who was here to see? It was a kind of worship, she decided. An offering of joy.
Ead swam to the mountaintop, treading water that wasn't water. Her clothes burned away and she was naked. Reborn in fire, just as Asherah would be.
She pressed her lips to the glowing egg. Waves of heat emanated from it, baking her face. “I’ll see you soon,” she said. She still did not know how long the egg needed to incubate before hatching. This did not bother her. No matter how long it took, Ead would be here when her dragon hatched.
She had faith.
Ead shoved her egg over the lip and watched it fall into the lava lake below. Plop. Little ripples showed where it had fallen, and then dissipated as the egg sank below.
“Ahhh,” Ead breathed out in relief. She swam down the mountain, and when she came upon a group of goat-herders in the foothills, they bowed. She didn't even have to say anything.
It has begun, she thought.