I was growing distinctly cold, despite Akor's warm chest plates behind my back, and it was getting harder to breathe. I think I would have been near frozen were it not for being held close to that living source of fire.
After what seemed like forever (though later I realised was little more than the half of an hour) I felt something change, a shift in his body. By now it was full dark and not worth keeping my eyes open against the wind. I was cold and miserable and fighting for air, but I wanted to know what was happening. I tried to ask him, but my voice disappeared even as I spoke.
It was then that I understood with a shock why all the race of the Kindred had the Language of Truth, while to my people it was the rarest of gifts. How else could they speak to one another, here where the air was thinner than on the tallest mountain, the wind roaring past them and they separated by lit least two wings' distance? Surely the Lady—no, they called on the Winds, of course—surely the Winds had gifted them so they might speak with each other in this world they shared only with the birds. And the Dragons sang, too, I could hear it in their speaking. The music they would make must surpass belief.
I wanted to bespeak Akor, ask how long we had yet to go, but I remembered he had said that I could easily be heard by others. I kept my peace and concentrated on breathing. I longed for moonlight. From my position, in those moments when I managed to open my eyes, I could only see the stars nearest the horizon.
Akor's thoughts rose soft in mine. "Forgive me, little one, I had forgot you did not know. Our journey is nearly done. In a moment I shall glide down the Wind, Do not be afraid when the ground comes up to meet us." I could hear the gentle merriment in his thoughts. "I know all is new to you, but I have been flying for a very, very long time. You need have no fear."
When we started to spiral down everything changed. It was the best part of the flight for me. Akor's great wings were outstretched and still as he glided down; the wind still rushed past, but it was not so cold nor so turbulent as when he was beating the air. My eyes seemed to recover a little as my breathing eased; I saw dimly below us, in the center of the spiral, a large wooded hill with a clearing at its foot, and as we came closer I saw a darkness that might have been a pool at the edge of the clearing.
We were very close to the ground now but still moving quickly. I am afraid I yelped a bit when he started beating the air backwards: I don't know what I expected, I had seen birds land before, but this was a bit different.
He landed on his back legs, those vast wings flapping as he fought to stay upright. It seemed very awkward to me, but he neither dropped me nor fell over, so I supposed it was good enough.
He put me down gently. "Are you well, little sister?" he asked. He seemed out of breath, which cheered me. It was the first sign of physical effort I had seen in him, and it made him seem a little more human, or at least a little less distant in kind.
Before my mind's eye flashed the image of that slim silverhaired man with Akor's eyes. I must not think of that.
"I'm frozen solid, but aside from that, yes, I'm fine. Was it very difficult to fly carrying me?"
His laughter made steam clouds in the cold, clear night. "You are lighter by far than cattle. Were it not for having to land upright, I would, hardly have noticed I bore you."
"How do you usually land?" I asked. I did not wonder whether I might ask or not. All fear of Marik, all fear of the others of his Kindred had left me, and deep in my soul I knew that now we were here, there need be no long thought before a question was either asked or answered. We were a little like two children finding themselves together without a guardian, delighting in the privacy and whispering secrets together in the dark.
"We are made to land on four feet. It is fortunate that if was I who carried you; I know of no other of my people who has practiced such a landing."
"You've practiced this?"
It was amazing to see a creature so noble and so naturally frightening actually manage to look sheepish. "I have. Ah, Lanen, you have found me out! But come, you are cold. My chambers are at hand—if you will bring wood I shall make a fire for you and tell you how I came to do such a thing." He looked around and spied a huge log. "That will do to start," he muttered, and effortlessly picked it up in his mouth. It wasn't until he tried to say something around it that I started laughing. He gave me an unreadable look and moved towards a darker opening in the dark side of the hill.
I gathered a few smaller logs, still laughing. Not that the young tree trunk he carried wouldn't burn all night, but I needed to feel useful. Besides, I was trying to make sense my feelings. I watched the creature I had such love for walking in four feet, lifting and stretching wide silver wings stiff from the flight, long tail trailing after."
For an instant I saw a giant lizard with wings and was disgusted.
Then he spoke to my thoughts with that voice that chimed my heart. "The entrance is here beneath the trees; I shall await you."
I breathed a sigh of relief. For he was again Kordeshkisiriakor, a creature ancient and wondrous, and I did not care what shape he had, for I loved most the soul inside the form. I followed him towards the hillside, away from the clearing which we had landed. There was only starlight to see by, but the night was so clear it was enough. The pool I had seen from above lay open to the sky, and showed the vain stars their glorious reflections.
Akor had gone towards two of the tallest trees. They grew side by side and seemed in the starlight to be guardians, old friends who had watched together over this place for many years. He stopped before them, lowered his head and slipped between. I was amazed, there had not seemed that much of a gap. When I came close enough to see, I found there was easily fifteen feet between the two, though their ancient roots effectively blocked the passage between. It would surely difficult for one of the Kindred to enter who did not know those roots well. It was bad enough for me, clambering over them in the starlit darkness.
Just past the trees there was a low passageway in the rock no wider than the gap between the trees, but tall enough for me to walk upright with headroom to spare. I am astounded to this day that Akor could get in and out of that passageway but he did so with no trouble.
I took a deep breath before entering. I have never liked caves—in fact, I am afraid of them—and here I was, facing a walk in complete darkness down a passageway to I did know where. Did the passage narrow ahead? Perhaps it came to a sudden end and Akor had forgotten that I couldn't fly. I gripped the wood, rough in my arms, and forced myself to ignore such idiocy.
I managed to get perhaps five or six steps inside before I stopped.
I am ashamed to admit it, but the cave, the thought of a mountain of stone above me, would not be ignored, and with that senseless fear came the memory of every stupid childish tale I had ever heard about Dragons. In my terror I imagined the floor of the passage littered with human bones and worse things and I stopped moving altogether.
"Akor?" I called out weakly. I tried to force my voice to a semblance of courage but I failed completely. "Akor, where are you? I can't see. Are you there?"
I heard something moving not far away. I jumped, my heart began to race, I dropped the wood I was carrying and put my back against the wall. I was groping for my dagger when his voice came back, loud in the darkness. "Lanen, I am here. Wait only a moment while I set Fire to this wood."