Chapter 360: 360: Friend is Waiting
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It had been eighteen days since the night of vows and the morning after. The mountain had settled into a new rhythm. The forge breathed heat. The egg chamber throbbed like a heart. The halls smelled of cooked meat and clean stone. And Miryam had learned to fly better.
She did not have wings. She did not need them. She could lift herself on the air like a leaf that had decided to be brave. She could rise a little, skim a little, and drift along the slopes with a light laugh in her throat. Most days she chased small desert beasts near the base of the mountain. She never went far. She knew the line where Kai said home began, and she liked to dance along it like a tightrope.
Often Kai went with her. He would let her lead. He would pretend to lose. He would look surprised when she appeared from behind a rock with a quiet grin. Even on busy days he sent a trusted subordinate to shadow her from a distance. Miryam liked to pretend she did not notice, but she always did. She would wave to the empty air and hear a soft cough of a laugh from a ledge somewhere above.
This morning was different. The egg chamber asked for him. It did not ask with words. It asked with a hum that pulled at the bones. Kai stood at the center essence pool with both hands spread over the runes and kept the flow of aura as even as a song. It had to be slow. It had to be steady. It would take hours.
"Hold," he murmured, and felt the seven cradles answer.
[Ding! Aura flow is stable. Maintain the current rate. Field coherence is high. Maintain this rate for six hours for best results.
System Note: For better focus the egg chamber is isolated from others.]
He did not look up. He did not hear the light steps in the hall.
Miryam stopped at the chamber threshold. She knew the line where she must not pass. She set both palms on the warm stone and peered in with one bright gold eye.
He did not nod. He let the confirmation settle and kept the pressure even. Each cradle answered with a faint, living pulse. It was like holding thousands of ropes tied to the same ship. Pull too hard and the knots tighten wrong. Let go too much and the ship drifts. He did neither. He held.
Above him the mountain woke to softer sounds. Water in bowls. Voices that did not hurry. The scent of cooked meat and herb tea. Somewhere near the south shaft, Skyweaver’s laugh carried up and faded. Today would be hot. The sun had decided that already.
Miryam padded into the hall outside the chamber and stopped at the door like a child who knew where a temple began. She pressed both palms to the warm stone and peered past the threshold with one bright eye.
"Papa," she whispered.
Her voice did not reach him. The hum of the aura work was a thick blanket over his senses. He felt the mountain more than any single voice. Miryam knew that look when she saw it, the look of a predator who was not allowed to blink. She bit her lip, then tried again, a little louder.
"Papa, I want to go outside and play. Will you come with me."
No answer came. The chamber kept its breathing. Kai did not lift his head.
Miryam rocked on her heels, then let out a small huff that would have been a laugh if she were not disappointed. She knew the rules. Ask first. Stay close. Never leave the wind line of the mountain. There was another rule Kai had never spoken out loud. Get used to being told to wait, because sometimes a king must be a rope and not a spear.
She swayed a little, thinking. Then she smiled, small and wicked and proud. She was a desert child and a wyrmling who could ride air without wings. She had learned to hide for fun, and then for practice, and then because it made the adults make funny faces when she popped out of nowhere. She promised herself she would stay near. She promised herself she would be quick. She also promised a friend she would come to play.
She bit her lip, then smiled to herself again. "I will come back before anyone notices I am gone. I am a big girl now. Papa said I am..." She had played here many times and had gone out many times. She would stay near. She would be quick. It would be fine.
She looked down both sides of the corridor. No one stood watch there yet. The morning change had not finished. She went very still. Then she faded from the doorway like a shadow that decided to belong to a different rock.
Outside, the light was clean. The air still tasted like night. Miryam hopped from ledge to ledge along a path only she used. She held her breath when she passed a turn where a watcher sometimes sat. Today no one sat there.
The eastern ledge greeted her with clear air. The sun was only a hand above the dunes. The sand below looked soft and new. Miryam lifted her arms and felt the air gather under her. She rose just enough to hop from rock to rock and then slid down the last slope with her feet together and her arms wide. She laughed when small whirlwinds chased her heels.
A pale shape waited at the first scrub patch. It was the size of Miryam and looked like a fox drawn by a child who loved ears. Its ears were thin and long and seemed to listen for clouds. Its tail was a soft brush that made neat lines in the sand when it turned. Kai had called it a sand kit when he first saw it. Miryam had called it Friend. Friend was a good name.