by Emma Hamm
Fire boiled in her lungs then expelled in one single breath. The fire jumped from her lips to the pile of wood which immediately burst into flames.
Gods, but the heat felt so good.
Sigrid stretched her hands forward, letting the fire nearly touch her fingertips. It wasn’t enough, but it would have to be. Could it possibly ever be enough for a dragon who felt as though the world was coming down around her ears? She added a few more sticks just in case, but reserved the rest for later.
Rubbing her fingers together, she wracked her brain for the next step. Beastkin had trained for situations like this. She knew how to keep herself and others alive. It had been a long time since she’d had lessons with Hallmar and his soldiers, but she remembered their words. She had to.
“Survey the surroundings,” she repeated as if Hallmar were standing next to her. “There must be something in the cave that is of use. If there are rocks to build in front of the mouth to stop the wind, then that is fine. However, there was a bundle of sticks already prepared. That means someone else has been here, and perhaps they’ve left something I can use.”
She staggered back to her feet, trying not to groan at the pain in her back. Sticks were something. Maybe the person was deeper in the cave, dead or simply gone. They might have left a bedroll, or a blanket. Something that would help her keep warm while she dried out the clothing she was currently wearing. That would be a good next step.
Her chest warmed for a moment. Hallmar’s approval or the dragon’s, she didn’t know. Both felt as though she’d done something right.
Sigrid looked around her, only barely keeping her jaw open. Another larger pile of wood was braced against the wall of the cave. Heavy pieces were big enough for her to build a fire that would certainly burn throughout the night. She wouldn’t have to worry about heat at all.
Was someone looking out for her?
She shook her head, dashing the thought as soon as it appeared. There wasn’t anyone else out here with her. No one would care that she’d come this far, and she wasn’t that close to the ancients… At least, she didn’t think she was.
Taking one of the smaller pieces of wood next to her, she lit it on the fire that crackled. With torch in hand, she made her way toward the back of the cave.
It appeared that the cave was naturally made. A great chunk of the earth had been taken out of the side of the mountain. Twisting slightly to the left, it was tall enough for her to stand comfortably and not worry about hitting her head. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, dripping onto the floor where their twins grew straight up.
She’d never seen anything like this in her life. Caves were abundant in Wildewyn, certainly, but never something this high up with no reason for it to exist.
A large boulder took up most of the path after she turned down the twist in the cave. Sigrid huffed out a breath. There wasn’t much farther she could go. It felt almost like a disappointment. The cave should have held treasures, but her body wanted to rest and her mind wasn’t certain it could hold up to any more surprises.
She turned to go back to the fire, but then felt a gust of hot air against her back.
“What?” she muttered, turning back toward the boulder and holding out her hand. There was heat coming out from a small crevice the boulder had created. Was there a hot spring back there? She was far too high up for something to be possible and yet… How else could there be heat?
Curiosity had always been her greatest flaw. If someone else had traveled with her, Sigrid never would have risked investigating.
“There better not be another dragon waiting for me,” she angrily said under her breath.
She could light the torch again if it went out, so she placed it on the floor. The fire burned just enough for her to see that the crevice curved a bit at the end, but she should be able to fit through it if she pulled herself along.
“I hate cramped spaces.”
Sigrid moved headfirst into the tight crawl space beneath the boulder. She didn’t want to touch it too much, worried that it might fall onto her head if she moved the wrong way. What a way to go. Searching for the ancients only to end up frozen in a cave where a boulder had crushed her head. The last thing she needed was that.
Slithering through the cold rocks, she reached forward to grasp a small handhold on the ground. She tested it a bit, making sure it wasn’t connected to the large boulder overhead before she used it to leverage herself forward.
Each wiggle made rocks shower down on her head. Tiny gravel stuck to her hair and cheeks as she pulled herself through. Her heart hammered..
Breathing started to be difficult as the air filtered away from the space. Or maybe that was the fear in her chest that was making her palms sweaty. Just a bit more, she could see the end.
The curved part came all too soon, and she couldn’t reach the torch anymore. She should have thought this through better and not just tossed herself into the tiniest crawl space large enough only for a child.
“Stupid,” she muttered, chest suddenly heaving with nerves. The curve was so steep she was almost sitting up once she managed to get herself in position. Rocks pressed against her back and front. If she moved in the wrong way, she’d be stuck.
Gods, she might die here.
Sigrid reached above her head and grabbed the top of the boulder that had fallen. It was the only handhold left, and she had to pray it was wedged in enough that it wouldn’t move if she shifted it. Sigrid wasn’t all that certain it was.
“If anyone is actually looking out for me, please don’t let this boulder move. It’s my own damn fault, and I have no idea how I’m getting out of this cavern now.”
The way back was going to be infinitely more difficult. She couldn’t go headfirst back, but how could she have known the curve was this steep?
How did she always get herself in situations like this when Camilla wasn’t there to take care of her?
One big pull and she slid out of the tiny crawl space like a child being born. Breathing hard, gasping in air like she was a dying woman, Sigrid remained on the cold stone ground for a few moments. Just to get her bearings, even though that wasn’t really why.
She told herself she was brave and strong, but she wasn’t. That was the problem in every aspect of her life. She wasn’t as strong as she wanted to be, and no matter what, she always managed to disappoint herself.
This should have been simple. She should’ve known she couldn’t fit through it and should’ve left. It would only be more cave beyond it, so why should she go through all this trouble?
Because something in her chest whispered there was more to this place. No one would have set up a camp like this without having a reason to. No one was as insane as she was, struggling through the mountaintop only to set up a fire in the middle of a forgotten cave.
Someone had to either still be here, or have found something so important they caved the whole place in. Right?
She hoped she was correct in her musings, or this was all for nothing.
Sigrid pushed herself up, lifting her chest from the ground and searching the darkness for something she could light.
“Dragon?” she asked the shadows. “Any chance you can see in the dark better than my human eyes?”
Although the creature was thoroughly exhausted and needed to warm up, it still woke for her. Sigrid felt the heat behind her eyes, the strange feeling whenever the dragon took over a part of her body. Her pupils shifted, splitting down the center, and the cave around her burst into grey shadows.
“There.” Just beyond her reach was another stick, this one wrapped with some kind of fabric.
Someone had been here before her. That meant there was something more to this place than just a cave. Why would someone have left a torch? An honest to gods’ torch.
Sigrid scrambled on hands and knees to the item and lit it on fire without having to ask the dragon. She could force the flames out of her own lungs if she was desperate enough, and in this moment, she was.
&n
bsp; The orange light burst to life and cast the small cavern into a warm glow. The dragon inside her reached for the fire. Sigrid wanted warmth too, so she held the flames in the palm of her hand and let it burn through her flesh.
She wouldn’t have any blisters from the heat. As always, dragons could not burn.
Her eyes feasted on the wall in front of her.
“I knew it,” she gasped.
Paintings stretched from floor to ceiling, old and crumbling but still there. They depicted so many things her eyes couldn’t detect every single detail. Countless images of stories, each painstakingly left for someone like her to find.
Lifting the torch, she stepped forward and gently touched a single figure on the wall. It was a dragon, or something that looked like one. Golden as the sun, it didn’t look anything like her own dragon or that of Nadir’s. This creature was more than just a dragon.
It was a god.
Rays of sunlight burst out of it and showered down upon the green rolling hills. Beastkin were painted there as well. Some in human form, others as animals, some mid-shift and looking more like a monster than a person. But they were there.
Someone had come into this cavern and painted a story unlike anything she’d ever seen before. How could she have? This was made by her people so long ago they’d forgotten the story.
She traced the lines with her gaze, shocked to see that there was so much here. The ancients were real. They had to be. Who else would have painted this? She refused to believe for a second that it was some wandering Beastkin who had seen an opportunity to paint.
This had to mean something.
Sigrid stepped a few paces back then sank onto a larger boulder, staring up at the paintings. In some strange way, a story began to form in her mind from the paintings. She whispered the words to herself.
“The great dragon goddess created the world with her breath. A single exhale, and her fires scorched the earth, bringing about a new beginning. From the ashes rose a phoenix, a horse with mane of flame, and a swimming creature with a long neck that immediately made its way toward the sea.
“She ruled with her families. One made of water, who gifted the oceans with Beastkin whose powerful legs and gills let them breathe in their kingdoms. One for the air, who flew through the skies on feathered wings. One on the land, who made creatures that trampled the earth. And herself, a creature of fire and brimstone living deep in the mouth of a volcano with her people.
“Together, they ruled the lands until something else appeared.
“Man.
“The humans seemed good at first. They talked with the Beastkin, had a conference that…” This part had been scratched off the wall until she couldn’t tell what it had originally been. Strange, every other piece of the mural was intact but this one.
“After that, things changed. Some of the Beastkin wanted to help the humans. Others wanted to ignore that they existed. The Beastkin of the water wanted the destroy the threat, saying that humans would eventually take over the world with their greed, their arrogance, and their weapons that plunged through Beastkin hide.
“The sun goddess waited to hear everyone’s opinion before she said each tribe must make its own choices.”
Sigrid’s voice choked up as she saw the mural where the Beastkin descended from the mountain and made their way toward the human villages.
Unable to give voice to the painting, she stood once more and made her way to it. She traced her fingers over the cage bars where her people were imprisoned. She touched the chains around the neck of an elephant, the spears in the heart of a lion. So much war, and pain, and violence. All because they had given the humans a chance.
Even seeing this, she couldn’t give up on mankind. Not yet. They were prone to violence and war, yes. She’d seen what they could do to a kingdom when someone disagreed with them, but she wouldn’t allow history to cloud her vision.
They could be good if they were given the chance. If they were taught that Beastkin weren’t terrifying and if people took centuries of work to make sure everyone was on the same page. She had to believe this.
Otherwise, her entire life was a lie.
The skittering of rocks drew her attention. Sigrid narrowed her eyes and looked toward a darkened corner of the room which appeared to have a corridor leading away from the mural.
“Hello?” she called out.
No one responded, but she had the distinct feeling she was being watched.
She didn't want to leave this cavern with the vivid paintings on the wall. It felt far safer than any other place she’d been on this journey. Sigrid was close to the memories of her ancestors here. She could almost feel their souls helping her, guiding her on a journey that would change everything.
And yet, she couldn’t stay here when she knew something was watching her.
Blowing out a breath, she walked away from the beautiful paintings, the first hint that she was doing something right, and made her way down the corridor.
The firelight never cast its rays on something that lived in the cave system. She was guided by the sound of stones, but never saw who made the sounds.
“Am I going mad?” she whispered.
A gust of cold air was her answer. She rounded a corner and found herself in a very similar mouth of a different cave. It had to be a separate cave, there was no way she had somehow made her way back to the exact same one. There hadn’t been any other exits other than the one with the boulder, and the one that led out into the storm.
She eyed her pack sitting on the ground next to a fire that was almost as big as the one she had left. Cautiously, she approached the pile of her things and nudged the leather bag open.
Nothing appeared to be disturbed. But something had definitely moved it.
Sigrid’s legs suddenly turned rubbery, and she sank down onto the ground next to the fire. “Thank you, whoever you are.”
Her words echoed in the chamber and nothing responded. Her body took over then, incapable of staying awake any longer.
Sigrid drifted to sleep knowing something watched her.
9
Raheem
Leaves crunched under his feet, the sounds of the forest decorating the air around him like visible pings of light. He’d never thought the sound of birds calling could ever be so beautiful that he’d think of poetry. Here, the land spoke to him like nothing he’d ever experienced.
Everything was so green. The colors flooded his eyes until he was nearly overwhelmed. How did the people here live without standing still simply to gaze upon the beauty? The Earthen folk wandered around without a care in the world. Possibly, they took the greenery for granted, but he never would.
Raheem breathed in the scent of moss and dirt. He’d thought it would smell… well, dirty. Instead, the loam smelled like the growth of land and the great reach of trees who had been in the soil for centuries.
Hefting the pack on his shoulder, he stepped over a fallen log and continued toward the keep where the other Beastkin awaited. The welcome he’d receive likely wouldn’t be all that good. His goodbye hadn’t been much more than a good riddance.
It made sense they didn’t want to trust him. He was a human, for one, and a Bymerian man for the other. They’d persecuted the Beastkin people for centuries.
Telling stories about his wife had helped. A few of the Earthen Beastkin had blushed when he’d described her dark eyes. How they’d sparkled even in the starlight, because she’d always worn her love so it was visible to everyone who looked.
Gods, he missed her every day.
Raheem reached up and patted the trunk of a tree as he rounded it. Four men wouldn’t have been able to reach around the width, it had to be centuries old. But then, everything here was. Dripping in emeralds, so vivid it burned the eyes, and so ancient that stories seemed to radiate from everything by the moment.
The keep loomed in the distance. He straightened his shoulders and kept his eye peeled for any unnatural movement. The Beastkin were hard to spot, e
specially in animal form.
The gates were new, he mused as he stood in front of the keep. Where had they gotten those? The last time he’d been here, supplies were hard to come by.
He touched a finger to the wrought iron, surprised to find it was sturdy and well-made. Had they picked up a blacksmith somewhere? That was the only person he knew who could do something this intricate.
Opening it, he ignored the creaking sound and strode through the gates toward the keep.
A few Beastkin loitered outside, but far fewer than he remembered. Raheem narrowed his eyes. The hairs on his arms lifted. Something was off, but he didn’t know what.
One of the Earthen Beastkin, a woman with pale skin and yellow eyes, paused in front of him. Her gaze shifting. “Raheem?”
“Quite a welcome home,” he replied, chuckling even though he felt as though a terrible change had occurred. “Where is everyone?”
The Beastkin woman twisted her hands. “In mourning.”
“For who?” His gut already knew. There was only one person who could turn the entire Beastkin population inside out with her death. When the Beastkin woman didn’t reply, he ground out a quick, “Enough.”
Raheem didn’t see much of the rest as he stalked toward the keep. His mind couldn’t focus on the details of the world around him when something so precious had been lost.
Sigrid.
She was unlike any woman he’d met other than his beloved wife. She’d fought the world head on, unafraid of what it would think or do. He’d come to think of her as a close friend. There was no question in his mind she would listen to any trouble he had and act accordingly. Now she was gone?
He couldn’t believe it. It felt wrong to imagine a woman so full of purpose and determination having fled from this life.
An old feeling of regret and pain bloomed in his chest. He’d lost a woman like her before; he wasn’t certain he’d survive it again.
The doors to the keep slammed open, barely registering that he was the one who had burst through. His despair and rage took over his body until he was nothing more than an angered beast trying to find someone he could blame.