Dragon

Chapter 25

Maay stared at the rocking egg in fearful awe. It tipped on its side to roll around the warming bowl. The rumbling as it spun in the confines of the now cold metal echoed in the chamber. Empty bar for her and it.

She longed to help the little dragon inside free itself from the heat-hardened prison. Only the memory of Jaimin's warning held her back. It must hatch on its own. Otherwise it was not meant to be. The words tumbled about her mind like a bad dream.

According to him, some had ignored the ruling older than the oldest Law and it had always ended in grief. She couldn't see the harm in punching the tiniest of holes through the tough shell. Just enough to weaken the smooth surface. To let her child break through and no more.

Sometimes, it is better to have a babe be stillborn than let it needlessly suffer.

The whisper of wisdom from the midwife she'd worked alongside of brought another memory with it to join her already frazzled thoughts. There'd been that one midwinter's eve when one of the babes she'd assisted with, having been born before its time, had also come into this world with the mother-cord wrapped round its neck.

It had survived. For a few days at least. Despite trying, it had been unable to feed.

She shook her head. Jaimin was right. However much it clashed with her own desire to hold their baby as soon as she could, the hatchling would have to break the egg under its own strength. All she could do was pray to the Great Ones that it would be successful. And wish Jaimin would return soon.

Maay pulled her gaze from the egg to stare at the chamber entrance instead. He couldn't be far. Perhaps not just down the hall, but surely he was in the lair by now. He'd only gone to gather their hatchling's first meal after all. Something small, like a rabbit. How long could that possibly take a dragon of his size?

The rumbling stopped. She frowned down at the egg, sitting as still as death in the hollow of the warming bowl. It jumped, rocked and stilled again. Not a single crack marred the ashen surface. Checking they were still alone, she gingerly placed a hand on the egg, caressing the smooth point she'd always considered as the top. "You better not be giving up, little one."

A dull tap came from within as if in answer, the shell directly under her fingertips lifting to touch her palm in a glorious screech. Another tap, this one giving way to the tiniest of cracking sounds, like a green twig being bent but not fully broken from the branch. Soon. She glanced over her shoulder and, upon seeing the empty archway, let slip with a frustrated snarl. Where was Jaimin? He should've been back by now.

More cracks and groans burst forth from the egg as the dragon within started the matter of hatching in earnest. Bulges appeared and disappeared on the shell, occasionally identifiable as a foot or joint. A ripple, running across the middle of the egg, spoke of a back and tail sliding by while the hatchling turned around.

Then the finest of lines appeared near the top, followed swiftly by another disappearing into the gloom cloaking the underside. A section of shell dropped off, leaving the glistening membrane behind and hitting the metal with a tinny clink. Something that looked very much like a snout pushed against the pinkish casing. The membrane bulged but refused to split under the hatchling's weight. Tiny points, that took a while for her realise were claws, scratched at the slimy film to no avail.

Maay reached out with a claw, hovering over the last barrier to her baby. The hatchling, despite its most valiant efforts, seemed to be having a lot of trouble with this last obstacle. Should she dare tear it open? It had broken the shell unaided.

Tipping the egg back, she gently dug into the membrane, surprised to meet resistance. Her child never would've gotten through this without her help. It must hatch on its own. She swallowed hard. Jaimin would just have to learn to forgive her.

Warm goo seeped out the opening she'd made, oozing over the egg and her hands, coating the warming bowl in its stickiness. With her thumb still wedged in the gap, she felt the hatchling's slippery, knobbly back slide against the knuckle. Jerking downwards, she lengthened the slit, scattering bits of shell into the bowl and onto the cave floor.

The hatchling slithered free of the egg. Maay jerked back, catching little more than the brief impression of a form. It landed in the muck that had accumulated in the hollow of the warming bowl, giving off a high-pitched squawk as it floundered about, stuck under the bottom section of shell it'd taken with it.

"Easy, little one," she cooed, dropping the empty remains of the egg. Lifting the semicircle of shell, slowly lest she startled it, she peered at the small form underneath, smiling when the torchlight also found its way under the rim to merrily glisten on the hatchling's wet skin.

Her smile froze. Oh no. She blinked back tears, not sure if all of them were entirely because of joy.

Its unusual hatching hadn't seemed to affect it. It was certainly quick enough in paddling round to face her, flinching only briefly from the light when she removed its impromptu shell roof. What would Jaimin think when he finally saw? What would he do?

Staring up at her, with the same intenseness she'd seen on every newborn babe she'd help birth, it let out a tiny chirrup. There was no doubt in the questioning note. Food? it seemed to be asking. Stepping closer, it repeated the sound. Its eyes, strikingly large as they were, dominated its face.

His face. There was little doubt in that either. Not with those eyes. Both a perfect, and wonderfully deep, crimson. Just like his hide.

What was Jaimin going to think?