In The Lair of the Draca (Book 2)

In the Lair of the Draca (Book 2) Chapter 64: Beside the Turrets

"There is no need to hide your 'baby' any longer," entreated Franek. "Up here among the turrets, you are safe. But for Azee and I, no one else is brave enough to walk among the Draca, even for training exercises. Not even Dragura has gained the strength or willpower to come up here and keep company among her-- her Offspring."

Franek held out her hands, as though to take Sasheka's bundle. The two women leaned easily against the cold stone walls; moisture seeped through from the stone into their garments, but the rain had stopped. On the tower, the Twin Moons were once again visible as shining orbs that cast their light upon the Ice-Capped mountains, but the sky was still blacker than a rainstorm.

"But they are not her Offspring," Sasheka protested. "They belong to the women who live in this Fortress...or don't they?"

Franek nodded assent. "Our Draca are no more Dragura's Offspring than your name is truly Sasheka," she said pointedly, "but until you surrender your 'baby', there will be no more information passed between yourself and I. You have come here to warn us and enlighten us: therefore, I consider you a friend. There can be no secrets-- or lies-- between us."

Sashek sighed, pulled the now-putrid smelling fowl from beneath her apron, and handed it to Franek, who accepted it gingerly. She rather expected the refined, grey-streaked woman to make a face or offer some comment about the coarse upbringing of a woman who would dare pretend to be pregnant by stuffing a dead bird into her clothing, but Franek did nothing of the sort. Instead, she took the bundle to the edge of the turrets (ignoring the questioning snouts of the hungry Draca) and tossed it over the side. It landed with a splishhhhh into the moat below and was immediately snapped up by a lingering water-dragon, one with a sheer white hide.

Sashek joined her at the turret and peeked over the side, nervously aware of the clink and clank of chains as the Draca extended their noses, hoping to catch a glimpse of this newcomer's scent. "A dangerous place, this one is," she murmured. "How can you stand to be up here among creatures that could tear you to bits?"

Franek turned to face her, and there was a new hardness in her grey-tinged eyes. The whites looked bloodshot and wet, as though she wept frequently.

"Your name, young lady. What is your name?"

Sashek looked down. "It is not Sasheka. Were that true, the a at the end of my name would signify attributes such as homeliness and resistance to change-- something my father, Gormaq, might have given his one good leg for if it meant I would stay at home and keep out of trouble. But I am neither of those things. I am simply Sashek."

Franek's eyes teared. "Why are you here?"

"I didn't want to be! As much as I love exploring, there is no place I would rather recline right now than at the sleeping bench beside my father, my sisters, and the Star-Children that my family adopted when their Disc of Secrets broke apart in the sky. They had no homes, no food, nothing but the clothing on their backs. How could my father refuse them? I am the one who found them. I cared for them, kept them safe, and brought them back to our village, Looks Thrice."

"Ah." Franek slid down the cool stone wall until she rested in a crouch near the ground. "Then who sent you on this truth-telling mission?"

"Our Healer, Pomoq," said Sashek. "He sees something special in the Star-Child which the rest of us did not, much as we loved her. I'd have given anything to refuse...but one does not say 'no' to the greatest Deliverer in Looks Thrice. So I went...and here I am." Sashek crossed the few steps that led to the southern wall and crouched beside Franek. "For years, we lived as all Evening folk do: to breathe, eat, drink, and bring our babies safely into the world," she continued. "We, too, hid from the sacrifices that Dragura demanded every ten years and wailed when loved ones were stolen. We avoided any semblance of travelling too far from our homes, less we be seen near a dragon or, even worse, be assaulted by one. Then the fairy-dust came--"