Draka Chapter 310: The Unquenchable Flame At The Heart Of The Mountain (Patreon)

The living cave of ancient trees that Quake had made for himself and his mate was wide and tall enough for even Mother to walk in with her head held high. It was a single great space, from entrance to end and wall to wall. The inside was not quite as dark as one might have imagined; here and there were narrow gaps between the individual trees, and they let in some of the light that filtered down through the cover of the surrounding canopy; enough that I could clearly see Unquenchable curled up way at the back, the two cold points of her sapphire eyes watching us with suspicion.

“My mate claims that you are not here to finish what that red toad started,” Unquenchable hissed as we approached. “I am not so trusting as he. Know that though I may be injured, though you may be able to kill me, I can still make you remember me for centuries to come.”

Her paranoia wasn’t exactly encouraging, but I took the fact that she bothered to speak in Tekereteki as a sign that she had herself mostly under control. As I considered how to best approach my supposed ally, Mother chose her path without hesitation.

“I should burn you to ash and withered bone and vitrify the very earth on which you lie for speaking so, when you and my daughter have sworn solemn oaths to each other,” she growled. The sense of her anger grew almost unbearably oppressive, enough that the two dragons across from us flinched even though they were over a hundred feet away. I was thankful that it wasn’t directed at me; if it had been, I would have been whimpering in the dirt.

Kira wasn’t so lucky. She’d fallen to her knees the moment Mother’s fury ignited, and as Mother spoke she’d collapsed forward, shaking and covering her head with her arms as though in a futile attempt to ward off some terrible calamity. I immediately covered her up with my wing, hoping to give her some sense of safety in this place where her life suddenly seemed so very, very fragile.

“And yet,” Mother continued, heedless of what effect she was having, “knowing who gave you your injuries, I shall forgive your mindlessness. You know very well that your safety is assured here; you would not have returned if it were otherwise. Now. Daughter?”

“Kira?” I whispered to the little woman covering beside me. “Can you still do this? Do you want to leave?”

“I— I—” she stuttered, her face still hidden. “A— a moment, please. I— yes. I can. But a moment.”

“Alright. Take all the time you need,” I told her before turning to face Unquenchable. “I have with me a human, Kira, a healer who has had great success in healing our kind. When Behold Her And Know That All Things Must End made an attempt on my own life, my wing was stripped nearly to the bone.”

I spread my wing—the one not covering Kira—for them to see how perfect it was after all of Kira’s hard work—and a good, long rest on my hoard which they didn’t need to know about.

“The red lizard also wounded The Sun Need Not Rise In His Presence quite grievously. Kira, along with my other healer, Makanna, has not only removed his pain but set him well on his way to a quick recovery. I offer the same to you, in the spirit of our alliance. I ask nothing in return except your continued commitment.”

Though Mother had cowed her somewhat, Unquenchable’s glare intensified. It took some almost gentle coaxing from Quake before she spoke, but when she did, it was a reluctant, “Your human took away his pain?”

“She did,” I confirmed. “That part is easy. She could likely stop the infection in your tail as well.”

“Then you may approach.”

Sticking my head under my wing, I asked Kira, “How’re you doing?”

“Apologies,” she said, taking a long, slow breath. “I’m fine now. I was just a little…

“Terrified?”

“Overwhelmed.”

“Mother can have that effect. But you’re all right to get close to the grouchy silver over there?”

“I am,” she confirmed, straightening her back with great effort. “I’m sure she would not dare do anything to anger you or your Mother. She strikes me as proud and arrogant, not stupid.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure that you’d be safe. But just in case, I’ll be with you every step.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and the relief there told me that at least some of her confidence had been an act.

As we started forward, Mother growled something in Draconic that seemed to make the very trunks above us shiver. Unquenchable just glared angrily at her, but Quake replied, almost meekly. Almost; he was still an adult dragon, and he could only be so deferential. But with no warning to hold us we didn’t stop; I continued towards the wounded female, and Kira came with me.

When we got closer, Kira’s breath caught, followed by a sympathetic, “Oh, no!” And no wonder; up close we could see her injuries. For that matter, I could smell them: blood and rot. They were nowhere near as grievous as what Presence had suffered, but they were bad enough. Quake had clawmarks along his flank; so did she, in many more places, including a tear in her wing and what looked like some deep gashes across the back of her neck. But it didn’t stop there. Whatever had gone down between those three, it had clearly escalated to breath weapons, because the worst of her injuries was her tail. Half of it was simply gone. She’d lost the majority of the scales on the remainder, almost to her rump, and at the truncated end a vertebra jutted from a weeping mass of infection. It looked positively gangrenous, stank intensely, and it looked maddeningly painful.

Mother had talked of singeing her tail when she was still keeping these two from my shores. Behold Her had done so much worse.

With Unquenchable’s cold blue eyes on her, Kira bowed and said, “Great one, I must touch you near each wound to ease the pain of it. May I?”

A single, angry hiss escaped Unquenchable, and she looked like she might be about to lunge. I was about to pull Kira out of there before Quake interposed his neck between her and us, growling at his mate softly. Several seconds of silence passed before she looked at me and said, “If she must, your human may touch me.”

I decided not to make an issue of her disrespect. Not yet, anyway. “Well, you heard her,” I told Kira. “If you still want to, go ahead.”

I never expected Kira to use the opportunity to change her mind, nor did she. She simply walked up to the maimed dragon before her, gently laid her hands near the nastiness that covered the end of Unquenchable’s severed tail, and got to work. And I could see with my own eyes the moment the pain of that awful wound vanished; the proud dragon sagged in relief, her eyes becoming a little less focused and a little less angry.

I was sure that her other wounds still pained her, and Kira took care of those as well. But when you had one wound that was a 10 on the pain scale, and a bunch of 3s and 4s, the 10 was the only one that really mattered.

Once she was finished dulling Unquenchable’s pain, Kira turned to Quake, and asked if she may be allowed to do the same for him. And after he’d agreed, and she’d done so, she turned to me. “May I finish?” she asked, and I understood what she was asking. If she still had the juice, I saw no reason to deny her. “Go ahead,” I said, and Kira turned to address her first patient again.

“If I may, I will attempt to remove the infection in your tail, and promote healing,” she said. “You may feel some minor itching or tingling afterward. That is normal, but it is important that you do not scratch. The flesh will be far more fragile than normal.”

“Very well,” Unquenchable said. Her tone wasn’t friendly by any stretch of the imagination, but neither was it an angry hiss. Most importantly, she spoke directly to Kira. Nothing to earn a modicum of respect like removing someone’s blinding pain, I supposed.

Afterward, as we were returning to the glade to leave, I asked Mother, “What did you say as we were approaching?”

“I reminded them under whose protection you both were, and that if any harm should come to your Kira, I would take their wings and let you hunt them through the forest for sport.”

There was nothing about her that made me think that she was joking. She had negative patience for disrespect.

Take their wings. I shuddered at the thought. Twice now I’d been flightless for a while, and it had been absolutely awful both times. And I at least had hope. Stuck inside the walls of Malyon, they would have known that there was little chance of them ever escaping. Just a short, painful, miserable life of being stuck on the ground, staring at a sky that they’d never sail again.

Then I realized that there was another aspect to what she’d told them. Mother didn’t boast idly, and she’d said that she’d let me hunt them. That implied that she had confidence that I could do something like that. I wondered what Unquenchable and Quake made of it.

The next few days passed idly, if you could call my constant ferrying around of the two healers idle. With one dragon to restore to full health, and another whose pain we wanted to manage, I was busy, busy, busy. But it wasn’t emotionally draining, and that was good enough for me.

To make sure that Kira got enough rest, I decided to bring Mak instead of her the next time I went to the younger pair—supervised by Mother, of course. It turned out that Mak could handle Unquenchable’s pain as well as Kira, though she couldn’t perform the same massive, full-Rift’s-worth healing that her friend could. And that was a very pleasant discovery, because I was getting properly worried that Mak might start feeling neglected. This way I could spend extra time with Mak before, during, and after each visit to the fantastical tree cave, while between everyone else when I was back at the palace. Between all the time I spent away, and their continuing explorations of the subterranean complex that they were slowly revealing under the palace grounds, I still couldn’t give everyone nearly as much individual attention as they deserved, but it was a small improvement if nothing else.

Of course, as soon as I was starting to get comfortable Conscience had to go and remind me that I had other responsibilities.

You promised Herald to take her back to Karakan, she told me one evening as the humans were getting ready to sleep. And you promised yourself to free Barlo and Jekrie. That was five days ago. Looks to me like you’re procrastinating.

I’m not! I objected, quite indignantly. We need Presence healed!

I’m sure Sandstorm would be only too happy to fly Kira around, she countered. You know how sookey she’s been about everyone being away underground most of the day. I guarantee you she’d love to spend all day with Kira!

Yeah, you’re probably right, I admitted. It was Herald and Avjilan in particular that Sandstorm really wanted to spend more time with, since they had the best stories, but she was fond of Kira, too. We’d need Mother to escort us, though.

Tell her that you’re going to speak with the Council. You should do that anyway, and since you’d be taking Herald to two of them it wouldn’t even be much of a fib even if you can’t get a full meeting. Though you probably could, very easily, because the war is at a stalemate and I don’t see that going well for the side which doesn’t have reinforcements coming.

Shit, I swore vehemently. Really? Is this new?

Yeah. Parvion was venting to Onur while I was checking in on him. They’re getting some token support on the sea from the League, apparently, but still no boots on the ground. And Karakan just doesn’t have the manpower to keep pushing. Doesn’t help that news is reaching the army about the Big Burgundy Bitch, either. Knowing that they have a dragon and the enemy doesn’t has been, like, the whole damn foundation of the army’s morale for a while now. And they know red from black, I’m sure, but as far as they know red is on the enemy’s side.

Shit, shit, shit, I muttered. Instinct? Would you talk to Mother about heading south?

“You intend to squander our servants, and you ask me to help you?” Instinct asked bitterly. “No. Be glad I do not fight you every step of the way.”

I supposed I should’ve expected that. She’d made her position on liberating anyone if it wasn’t absolutely necessary quite clear, after all.

Fortunately, the next morning Mother let herself be persuaded, and that was in large part thanks to Instinct. She didn’t cooperate as such, but she chose not to scupper the whole operation when she had the chance.

Mother outright asked to hear from her, and it wasn’t like I could refuse. I honestly expected my headmate to complain that I was trying to impoverish her, or something like that, but all she said was that yes, it would be best for us to have a talk with the Council, to reassure them that we were still alive and on their side, and with it having been nearly a week since we were last in the south, a visit to our hoard would be welcome.

So, first of all, thank you, I told Instinct afterward, as I went to start arranging everything with Sandstorm and the humans. Second, why? Why help?

“The city is more important than Barlo or Jekrie,” she grumbled. “If the city feels abandoned, it may stop paying tribute. If we impress on them that only we can deal with that red reptile, however…”

Then we may be able to squeeze them for a bit more gold, I replied. It was such a naked moneygrab, so very Instinct, that all I could feel in the moment was a sort of muddled affection. To thine own self be true and all that.

Sandstorm was, as I’d imagined, only too happy to take over flying Kira around for a day or three. She left immediately to tell Indomitable, either ignoring or not hearing me at all when I tried to tell her that Mother had already gone. Kira had no objections; she liked Sandstorm well enough, and as long as she was allowed to keep healing Presence, she was happy. Herald was a bit apprehensive about returning to Karakan, but that was, I suspected, her guilt talking.

I left her to pack. I had one last person to talk to.

Mother might be unhappy with me for going to Unquenchable and Quake alone, but I didn’t want to wait for her to return. Besides, it was important to show the two young adults that I wasn’t afraid to face them on my own.

I was, of course. I was bloody terrified. I just kept my distance and did my best not to show it as I told Unquenchable that I was going to be gone for a few days, and I wouldn’t be able to bring Mak around.

Her response was dismissive. “Do you think I am so wretched as to be reliant on those moments of relief your humans brought? I am not! I have endured worse before without aid, and shall do so again. I must wonder if you intend to insult me—”

She went on like that for long enough that by the time she wound down there was no doubt in my mind that she was massively disappointed, and that she was dreading the moment when the effect of Mak’s last round of pain management wore off.

I returned half an hour later with Mak. It may have been a stupid risk to take, but the knowledge that the pain must already be returning gnawed at me. It seemed unnecessarily cruel to leave her like that for longer than necessary. This time, though, I did ask Mother to come along. I wasn’t going to let Mak approach Unquenchable without the threat of Mother’s fury hanging over them. All I told Mother was that I wanted to bring Mak for a final round of pain relief before we left, and though Mother rolled her eyes at that, she didn’t object. And if she knew or suspected that this wasn’t my first visit to the tree-cave that morning, she didn’t comment on it.

Even after Unquenchable’s pain was dealt with, the guilt of leaving sat heavy inside me. So as I returned Mak to the palace, I told her, “If Indomitable is willing to take you, or to come along with Sandstorm, you may go help Unquenchable while I’m away. But not Sandstorm alone, all right? Somehow I can’t see those two being as patient with my cousin as Grace and Presence have been. I need you to promise that you won’t go without Indomitable.”

“Got it,” she replied. “If I have the opportunity to ask your granduncle, I will.”

“Great. Otherwise, take care, all right? You’re in charge until I’m back, and I’m counting on you.”

Mak smiled, but when she replied she was serious. “Don’t worry, dear sister,” she said. “If anyone needs to be kept in line, I’ll take care of it. As for safety… I don’t mind admitting that for anything bigger than a troll, there’s not much we can do but hunker down below ground.”

“And the fact that you’re willing to accept that makes you perfect for the job,” I told her, nuzzling her hair.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, leaning into it. “Before you go, can I ask something of you?”

“Of course. Anything you want.”

“If you should have the time, and the opportunity comes, might you get a message to Terdam? Nothing that needs writing down. Just that I’m all right, and that I miss him.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” I promised, trying not to let my guilt show. I was the one who’d insisted on taking her so far away from the big sergeant she’d grown so attached to. Trying to hide it was pointless, of course; if I felt it strong enough, she’d know anyway. “If I can’t meet him myself, I’ll tell Alanna. Hell, I’ll tell the lord commander if I have to.”

And that was it. I’d already said my see-ya-laters to everyone else, and both Herald and Mother were ready to go.

I wasn’t. I wasn’t ready at all. I went anyway.