Quickburned

Stillness

Now...

On the fifth day after Surem's appearance, three days after he'd brought medicines, the pair received another visitor.

Caleb's vitality had seemed to drain along with his increasingly rambling words, until he fell into a lasting stillness after telling "Sati" of the pool, the crystal blade, and his intended death. She caught him watching sometimes through glazed and slitted eyes, but he didn't respond when she called to him. He was unconscious—sleeping or otherwise—more often than not, and Lysistrata didn't know enough of the medical arts to know if she should be so worried.

She'd held him for a long time after the story ended. Had taken his left hand and turned it over, noticing anew the long white parallel scars running from his wrist nearly all the way to his elbow. She traced them with her fingertips, and gooseflesh rippled along his arm. "Come on, darling, don't let the story end here."

The second of Descending Fire dawned hazy and red, dust in the air heralding a sandstorm to come and turning the light into smoke and blood. Neither seemed to bother Iyanden as her circlemate's dragon companion and sometime steed descended into the oasis near midday, prompting another squealing challenge cry from Dirt. Lys was washing her hands of the remnants of thick pale-yellow clay, one of Surem's treatments from a wood demesne along the elemental's river domain.

"Greetings, daughter of Mars," the brilliant citrine-yellow dragon rumbled, settling onto his haunches nearby. "On behalf of my master, I bring you gifts and news from Yu-Shan."

"And how is Caiden?" Lysistrata asked, stretching up to stroke Iyanden's mane; a caress he accepted with grace and hooded eyes.

"Up to his nose arranging the movement of several dozen destinies left over from Tides of Shadow, so—happy indeed. Sayuri, less so, as he is seldom where she wants him. But—here." The dragon reached into a large sash tied crossways around his chest and neck and withdrew several cloth-wrapped parcel from its folds. "Caiden sends apples from the heavenly orchards of Scarlet Hooves Shod With Swords for your friend's mount. This box, from the Division of Secrets, and this one—"

"From Kallias, is it not?" The sky-blue sash which wrapped the last basket shut was woven in feather patterns and tied with a flat knot so neatly intricate it could only be his work.

"Indeed." Iyanden, freed of his burden, stretched out like a temple cat with his forelegs at full extension in front of him. "My news will be less welcome than those, I expect."

"The Judges rejected my request to bring Raith to Yu-Shan while he recovers, didn't they." Lysistrata leaned against Iyanden's solid side and let her fingers worry the blue fabric of Kallias' gift.

"Not in so many words. It is in appeals. The documentation is in the box from Secrets."

"By the time they reach a decision, it would be over one way or another, besides. Ugh."

"I am sorry, Lysistrata."

She pushed away from the dragon and patted him on the shoulder. "Not your fault. Thank you for the news, and the gifts. Please tell Caiden I owe him, and I'm happy to assist him if there's anything I can do from here."

"I will." Iyanden stood, stretched, and nudged her gently. "Maidens be with you, daughter of Mars." And then he had jumped back into the dusty expanse and was gone in moments, heading for the north and the Pole of Earth.

Lysistrata ferried the gifts inside and carefully stashed all but one of the heaven-grown apples into a wintersbreath jar. That one she took to the corral, cutting it into quarters. Caleb's stallion had gained back some of the weight he'd lost on the deep desert journey of Shattered Earth, but his coat was rough and dull with ill-use and his head still hung lower than it ought. His ears pricked when she called him.