“How do I know that you are worthy? And that you are a good person?” Ymmen’s voice boomed and held me as much as Abioye’s distant arms did at the same time. “I have seen much in my long years, Narissea. I have seen kingdoms rise and fall. I have seen empires spread out across the face of the world. I have seen the land rent by ice and fire and dragon-battles. And I have seen into the hearts of many humans. More than you will ever meet in one lifetime!”
With his words came the certainty of what he was saying, all coming from that ever-burning fire of light and life in the old dragon’s center.
“And know this, Narissea of the Soussa Winds—I see you, and I know you. And you are worthy! You can take that as the sworn oath of a dragon—which is a truth that no man nor woman could ever break!”
And as those words flooded through me, I felt humbled—because I could feel their truth.
“SKREYARGH!” There was a roar from far above us, and a thunderous crack in the air like a peal of sudden thunder. But the skies were clear, and I knew that it was no Plains storm—it was Ymmen, speeding through the skies to our location, his maw open and fierce, and on his back were Tamin and Montfre.
Chapter 17
The Souda and the Dragon
“Dragon! Ware, dragon!” Naroba shouted in alarm, to be echoed by the cries of dismay from the other Daza all around. It was no surprise—even though my tribe of the Souda had a healthy respect for the creatures—the only ones that any of us had ever known before I had met Ymmen were the wild and dangerous dragons that occasionally came down from the mountains to terrorize the herds and villages. And Ymmen was many times larger than those savage creatures.
“Ymmen!” I said, rising from my crouch, and with Abioye standing at my side.
The great Bull dragon didn’t slow his descent as he swooped low over the dregs of the Sea of Mists, furrowing the fogs to either side of him like I imagined it must be when he flew low over water. Naroba and the others started to scatter, screaming, as the dragon stretched out his wings in one large snap!—just as he had done when after I had healed him in the Masaka, displaying the majesty of his size and the gleam of his scales to us tiny creatures.
But for all his speed and fury, I had no fear that he was going to crash-land as I had with the mechanical dragon. Instead, his sudden outward sweeping of his wings stalled his rushing flight, allowing him to gracefully land on the ground near to us with heavy thumps as his claws threw up drifts of dirt and sand.
“Little Sister,” he greeted me in my mind, at the same time as I heard his roar with my ears. I crossed the space between us quickly as he lowered his great snout, to wrap my arms as far across his face as I could. We leaned into each other, and it felt like a part of me that I had forgotten that I had even owned had come home.
“What!?” I heard the confusion and disbelief from Naroba and the others as they realized that the dragon was not about to eat me—or any of us. And in fact, that this dragon and I were friends.
Partners, I thought.
“Dragon,” I heard Abioye say a little less confidently, but he still stepped up before Ymmen with determination, and I saw him do his best to sweep a deep bow. He managed to appear noble—even given the tattered state of his robes.
“Nari!” came the pleasing cry of my god-uncle Tamin as he slid from Ymmen’s shoulder on one side, while Montfre did the same on the other. Both men appeared relieved, excited even to see us—and the sight of their welcoming joy did much to heal whatever hurts were left in my heart even after Ymmen’s act of—magic?
“Friendship is a form of magic,” Ymmen whispered into my mind, and I knew him to be right.
“Ymmen came and got us in the early dark,” Montfre explained, stretching his arms from his long flight. He must have returned to get them as soon as he understood that Abioye and I were heading out of the Sea of Mists, I realized.
Montfre turned to regard Abioye, and there was a brief moment of awkward tension between them before Abioye shook his head. “Montfre, my friend—I’m sorry for the words I spoke when we last met…”
“As am I,” Montfre said earnestly, and the two men grasped each other’s forearms in a brotherly greeting.
“It is so good to see you, Nari—alive and…” Tamin was saying as he hugged me fiercely, before stepping back and holding my shoulders to look at my face speculatively. “But not well.” His brow furrowed. He had always been able to read my face like the signs of coming weather and could see the shape of my recent sadness there. “What is it? The others…?” He raised his head to look around at the Souda camp, blinking in confusion as he tried to take it all in.
Yes, we were missing many of the Daza who had come on the expedition with us, I had to admit. But it wasn’t just that, was it? “It’s Mother…” I whispered low and hesitantly. I didn’t want to have this discussion now, and out here in the open before everyone. I knew that Tamin and my mother were close; they had always been blood-friends since childhood.
“Oh no—Yala!” I saw Tamin’s look of horror, almost reacting as badly as I had as his face blanched.
“It’s not that,” I said quickly. “It’s not as bad as it could be. But she will need us. She will need you, Uncle—when she returns,” I said.
“When she returns.” Tamin’s face went still and his eyes were pained as he understood perfectly what I meant. He took a deep, shuddering breath and I was once again surprised at the hidden strength of this man, as he maintained his composure—even if a new weariness was settling over his face. “I take it she is Walking the Spirit Lines?” he said, and I nodded.
“I should have seen it coming… I should have been here,” Tamin began to say, but I cut him off. I had the impression for a moment that the fire that Ymmen had gifted me of his own heart wasn’t something that I should—or even could—hoard for myself. It was a wisdom that was generous, and expansive.
“You did what you could,” I said. “You did everything you could. And we will find her, together, as soon as we can,” I promised. “And we will make her better, because I know that you and I can.”
Maybe it was spending so long in the company of Ymmen that gave Tamin his strength, or maybe it was merely the fact that Tamin was so much older than me and would be legitimately regarded as an Elder of the tribe. He had years of troubles and experience to draw on that allowed him to once again heave a great sigh and set aside the troubles for which he could do nothing right now.
“I understand, Nari,” he said softly, with the gleam of a tear in his eye. “And you are right. We will find your mother, and we will make her better.” He spoke with certainty, before looking beyond my shoulders to the others.
“Is it common for the Souda to cower in the dirt before old and new friends!?” he called out in a strong and clear voice.
“Tamin?” Naroba said in astonishment, coupled with the gasps of surprise from others amongst our tribe. My god-uncle had always been a bit of a rare bird to the rest of my tribe, I knew. His decision to go and study the ways of Middle Kingdom laws was unheard of, and although no one had ever spoken ill of him—it had certainly been regarded as odd behavior for a Souda.