The Dragon Writers Collection by DragonWritersCollective

Author:DragonWritersCollective
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Anthology
Publisher: Tom Bielawski
Published: 2014-01-07T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Of all the varied life forms on the planet Godsland, the pyre-orchid is the most curious, only blooming in the wake of forest fires.

--Sister Munion, Cathuran monk

* * *

Catrin opened her eyes for a moment, adjusted the pillow beneath her head, and pulled soft blankets over her shoulders. The morning air was cool, and she closed her eyes to drift back to sleep when voices awakened her. When she became fully aware, she noticed her surroundings. She lay on a light, fluffy bed with a similarly made pillow, which she guessed were both stuffed with down.

A small tent, made of sheer material, shaded her. The breeze passed through the fabric, but bugs could not. It was artfully made and was doubtless the finest the Arghast had to offer. Still dressed in the clothes she'd lived in for days, she was in desperate need of a good bath. Pushing back the tent flap, she walked out into a bright glare that momentarily blinded her, and she heard the sudden murmur of many hushed voices. When her vision cleared, she found all of the Arghast watching her intently. She was not sure what they expected, but their stares were intense and disconcerting. It took some time for her to decide what to say to the assembled crowd, and what came from her mouth was the plain truth.

"If I could trouble someone to help me, I am quite hungry. Is there any food left from the morning meal?" she asked almost timidly. The activity resulting from her request was astounding, and it seemed they all felt compelled to try to help. Some men scrambled to set up a small table; others made a comfortable seat for her from several large cushions, and still others erected a makeshift sunshade made of the same material as her tent.

She sat at the table and waited. People began to approach her with a lavish array of foods. Women were now part of the group, some in typical female clothing and others dressed like the men. Catrin had seen no women the day before and was surprised to see them now. The crowd was now nearly double the number she recalled. Men and women offered fruits, meats, breads, and one elderly man brought her more of the drink she remembered Vertook had given her. Catrin recognized him from his castigation of the tribal leaders, but he gave her a kindly smile.

"What is this drink?"

"Desert mist," he responded with a wink. "How to make is secret, something only spoke in private. We speak alone soon, yes?"

"Yes, of course, and thank you." She paused to take a sip of the desert mist. "What are you called, sir?" she asked.

"Called Aged Goat by most," he said with a toothless grin, "but true name is Mika. You call me Mika. Yes?"

"Indeed, Mika, I will," she responded warmly, and Mika retreated through the masses. Catrin had never been served in such a way, and she found it disquieting; it felt wrong to

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