Sky Woman: Book One of The Empress Saga

CHAPTER SEVEN

Deebee was silent for several minutes before Enfri realized the dragon didn't mean to continue. She remained curled above the hearth, basking in the heat radiating off of the glowing embers, and appeared content. Deebee stared at the ceiling and savored the last vestiges of her story.

"And what then?" Enfri asked.

The dragon blinked and came back to the moment. "Hmm? Oh, nothing that needs telling of, really. Children growing. The trees they climbed and the rocks they dug up. Beetles to catch, rabbits to chase, and chores to be done. It was a peaceful time and remained so for several years."

Enfri lay in her bed and adjusted the blankets around her. As she listened to Deebee's story, she had taken her hair down and brushed it thoroughly. One hundred strokes, just as Mother said it should be done.

A distant memory came to her— Enfri sitting on the floor while Mother knelt behind her, the sensation of a brush through her hair, and the sound of Mother's voice as she sang to her. Mother used to tell Enfri how beautiful her hair was.

"Like silk woven from sunbeams," she had said. "Your father had hair like yours, but his was always so tangled. If he could see you now, he would shed tears at how lovely you are."

Those were all too brief moments, when Enfri could close her eyes and just believe. She would imagine that her back was straight and strong, that Father would soon return from the war, and that Mother would always be like this. Then, the dullness would come into Mother's eyes and steal away her sparkle. Then came the weeping, the resentful glares, and the harsh words.

"Deebee?" Enfri said as she let the brush come to a rest in her lap.

"What is it, girl?"

"Before..." Enfri blinked away the moisture that appeared in her eye. "You said you knew my mother well."

Deebee grunted. "I did. Once. I loved your mother, Enfri. I truly did. But..." The dragon sighed. "Mortals can change, and the spirits know that Mierwyn had cause to."

Enfri's knuckles turned white as she gripped the brush handle. "I suppose so."

Deebee watched Enfri out of the corner of her eye. "Would you like to hear more about her?"

"No," Enfri replied. "I think I can get to sleep again, now. Thank you for the story, Deebee."

"As you wish. Lay down, love. I'll see to the lights, and we can speak more if you have trouble sleeping. I'll be awake if you need me."

Getting comfortable in her bed was hard. Her back was what made it difficult. Enfri placed a pillow beneath her hip to support the curve in her spine, and shifted her weight until she found a good position.

The bed seemed so empty now. Before they died, Enfri had shared the bed with Mother and Grandmother. Both fidgeted and snored something fierce, and Enfri was pleased to know that she didn't inherit that from them.

Despite what she said, Enfri was wide awake. She lay with her eyes closed and took deep breaths, but sleep wouldn't come.

Deebee's story unsettled her. Though she was giddy to finally know for certain that it was for Father's sake that the dragon was in Sandharbor, Enfri couldn't shake the feeling that there was more that Deebee hadn't said. Enfri recalled one of Grandmother's favorite sayings. Half a truth can be fully a lie.

Enfri sniffed and wiped at her eyes. She felt a powerful urge to sit back up and demand more answers, but thought better of it. Deebee had been gracious to tell as much as she did. It was plain that she could feel heartache as keenly as a human, and if Enfri pushed when it wasn't welcome...