Dragon

Chapter 17

"Easy child."

Maay flinched away from the hand on her shoulder. Her head throbbed, as did her throat. Light streamed across her face, turning the inside of her eyelids a dark red. She opened her eyes, peering through her lashes at the shadowy figure bent over her.

Had Otunika, or one of her kin, come back to kill her? The voice hadn't sounded all that threatening, more soft and welcoming. Just the thought of it brought her adopted mother to mind.

The figure moved to kneel beside her, the outline revealing it to be a woman. More of the harsh light fell onto Maay's face. She put her hand up to block it. Sunlight? Golden and pure, it poured from the hole above. When had dawn arrived?

"Easy," the woman said. A hand dipped into Maay's limited view. The skin a pale crystalline shade that reminded her of midwinter icicles – even the woman's gown was a shimmering, icy blue. The woman tipped her head, the action allowing strands of silvery hair to escape the dishevelled, twin buns. They fell across a face wrinkled with age and framed by the broad, high collar that looked very much like the horned crown of a dragon's head crest.

Maay watched, stunned, as the loose strands shifted back into their place without the woman moving. "Who are you?" she croaked. She felt along her neck, fingers sliding under the cool metal band. It was the sorest under there. Maay rolled onto her side, instantly regretting it as her vision spun. Her head felt impossibly light and heavy all at once.

"Carefully." Once again, the female placed a hand on her shoulder and helped ease Maay into a seating position. "Try not to speak too much, child," the female said. "You'd stopped breathing by the time we got the hatchling free. Thank the Greatest One herself that Dorable was able to revive you."

"We?"

Eight more women stood in the shadows; two bearing skin a similar hue as the first, whereas the others were so varied in shades that she assumed they were all of the feathered, tropic variety. Except the brown and green pair. The green could've been either tropic or grasslander; though the brown one was certainly the latter.

Peering from behind the grasslander female's russet skirts was the hatchling's tiny, snowy head. Why hadn't they made themselves known last night?

The old female kneeling next to her stood up, the chain linking her collar to the wall going slack and rattling against itself.

Maay frowned at the rusty chains. How had she failed to hear that last night?

Hands clasped before her, the pale female bowed her head. Again the strands tumbled forward and were drawn back without her lifting a finger. "I am Jamoyia." Eyes the colour of ice reflecting a stormcloud looked Maay over, her narrow face curious and coolly guarded. "Why have they put you in here, scaled one?"

She hugged herself, feeling a sudden chill in the air and very much aware of her skin colour. Since as far back as she could remember, no one had ever treated her with suspicion. Yet the female's expression, given from a dragon of great age if the wrinkles were anything to go by, stung. "My blood is only half scaled."

"You're a half-wing?" Jamoyia bent down and assisted Maay in getting to her feet. There was still a hint of suspicion in her eyes, but it seemed as if the female was trying to hide it. "I thought they were all wiped out or converted."

Converted? No one had mentioned Kalon-reared dragons choosing to leave the kingdom for the wasteland. Is that what they'd planned for my mother? Unlike her father, they'd never found Leonra's body. Was it possible for her to have severed the link to her knight? She could've returned to her people. Had the council been afraid that Maay might have followed?