In The Lair of the Draca (Book 2)

In the Lair of the Draca (Book 2) Chapter 38: Fame Unwanted

Ziuta had become a coveted sort of celebrity almost overnight.

The events of the past day and night had so overwhelmed her that even now, perched safely atop a stack of kindling behind Mother's lodge (it was lonely back there, and she had found that she could hide from sloppy children and pointing fingers if she kept herself well out of view), she fingered the smooth coolness of Daara's dragon scale, which Mother had carefully removed from her old garment and sewn expertly into the bodice of a new chemise, and wondered what was to become of her.

In more than one way, Ziuta was like her Mother-- and Ziuta rarely thought of Siuntla anymore. She recognized from a cranial perspective that this should be a sad thing, but she discovered that she had less and less emotion or longing for the woman who had given her birth; Ziuta had decided firmly that the situation was what it was, and nothing was going to happen that could change the fact.

Her mother was gone-- had appeared as a beautiful apparition at Gormaq's window and then left her alone to sob her worries and fears to a strange new world-- and while there were plenty of people now who grinned into her face: who fixed her soups at home, handed her gifts, stuffed grubby offerings of dirt-encrusted sugar candy into her apron pockets, or made the warding-off gestures as she passed to protect themselves from evil, Ziuta felt that in spite of it all, she could trust no one.

And why should she?

These people, these grey-eyed Evening Folk whose white-headed children pattered about the place naked while their mothers gossiped at the center well and young men seared their lungs with grass sticks, were so much different than her own People, the Nasa'a-- so much less refined, less dignified. Where was their hauteur? Where was their pride? And why did they run away screaming when they encountered the vicious beasts, such as the earth- and water-draga?

On Kiwa, also, there had been large and formidable creatures; namely, the vurdke, a type of sharp-clawed cattle that could have easily ripped a grown men to shreds in moments; but even the Night women would have faced their deaths with noble stoicism. They would not have run about flailing like some of these Evening folk women did, shrieking with their hands in the air and acting as though they were helpless creatures who were nothing without their men...

Men.

Great Mother Star, Ziuta thought to herself, but that's another thing. What is this pre-occupation with men as a whole? Why do women think they needed a member of the opposite sex to make themselves one, complete, and safe?

It was true that men were needed to plant babies in their mothers' stomachs...but as far as Ziuta was concerned, that was all they were good for. Except for Gormaq, the man who had adopted her when he'd had every opportunity to throw her out to the elements, every young man on Weema could rot in the Afterworld for all that she cared.

Ziuta sighed and shifted on her stack of kindling. She hugged her knees with her arms and ignored the palm-sized spiders that scurried out of the dusty holes for safety (she was not afraid of spiders). Here, she could sit quietly and bask in the glimmering light of the stars. Here, she was safe from the incessant babblings of excited children. She could hear their questions now:

Are you a Dragon Queen?

Can you talk to the dragons, huh, Zai-oo-tah?

What do they smell like?

Did you really kill a Draca that tried to steal you?

And, of course, there was the grim favorite: Mother says she's seen marks on the side of your neck. They look like scales. Do you turn into a dragon at night? Are you one with them?