“Favorite story?” I ask. “You have more than one?”
“You’re a popular subject at supper.” He winks at me and dives right into the story. “Watching from above on the airship, I saw a young woman atop a dragon of fire, lobbing heatwaves at Kur. The First-Ever Dragon was terror incarnate.” Naresh deepens his voice to frighten the children. “He had blue-black scales and talons large as a man. His demon commanders were hideous and had powers much like bhutas.”
Naresh goes on in detail about Kur’s attack. I half listen, more interested in my second helping of stew than remembering that battle.
His captivating narrative pulls me back.
“When the stars and moon had faded, and all seemed lost to the evernight, the Burner Rani turned Kur’s venom against him and burned his snout and eye.” The children gape at me. “Kalinda sacrificed her hand and saved us all.”
My chewing slows. Naresh’s retelling of the war is missing the most important part. Had I saved everyone, I would not be here in need of his help.
Maida jumps into the break in conversation. “Tinley, you should see the sleigh Bedros built me. It’s large enough for a whole family.”
Tinley’s chin jerks up. “Are you with child?”
“Not yet.” Maida clutches her belly and beams. Bedros glugs down half a glass of wine. “We want a son.”
“With your temper and Bedros’s indecisiveness?” Tinley asks.
“No,” Maida protests. “With his big eyes and my powers.” She centers her attention on me. “I inherited my mother’s northern Aquifier abilities. We can manipulate ice and snow, unlike those half-Aquifiers from the south.”
“Tinley and I have an Aquifier friend from the Southern Isles,” I reply, sounding appropriately offended. “She’s healed me many times.”
“I’m certain southern Aquifiers are good for something,” Maida counters, “but I couldn’t bear having my powers be so limited.”
“You better hope you’re never in need of a good healer,” Tinley mutters.
Bedros downs the last of his wine and dismisses himself from the table. Maida’s hold on her chalice tenses. Frost creeps out from her grasp and shrouds the cup.
I lean into the chief’s side. “Might we have a word?”
“Please.” His eyes sparkle. “Let’s escape.”
Sosi fills the silence between her daughters with chatter about the weather. Naresh and I sneak off to the reception hall. I left my fur cloak behind, so he covers my shoulders with his vest, and we stroll down the corridor. The center of the icy floors is textured for traction, the outer areas gleaming pale blue.
“My daughter told me why you’ve come,” Naresh says. “You’re not the first to seek absolution from the woes of mortality by finding the paradise of the gods.”
“I don’t seek Ekur for myself.”