Page 79 of Dragon Gods

“It’s a dragon feather,” Sofia said, unsure of what else Clarita wanted.

The woman only smiled and motioned for her to kneel. They faced the feather together. Clarita set her candle on the stone altar and prepared for the prayer, just as Sofia had done a few days prior.

“Do you know why our people revered the dragon feathers? Why their barbs were woven into the prayer belts?” Clarita’s eyes never left the feather as she spoke.

“The books say the feathers connected us to our gods—to the dragons.”

“You assumed it was a metaphor.” Clarita smiled, dragging her dagger across her wrist before letting her blood drip into the prayer bowl. “Our blood is the offering, but the feather—the feather is what connects us to the dragon. Not metaphorically, but truly. It’s the conduit to the dragon hearing us and our prayers. Without the feather, our prayers are lost on the wind.”

Sofia stared at the feather.

“When the blood king massacred the dragons, we didn’t just lose our gods. He and his men burned the feathers, too. Destroying them, either intentionally or not, broke our contact with any dragons that might have remained. Our tribe had a feather for a time, when Tía Muela was only a child. It was lost in a wildfire. I’ve never...”

Clarita’s voice cracked again and Sofia laid a hand across her arm.

“You’ve brought us back a small piece of the gods,” she continued. “We owe you a debt.”

Sofia left Clarita to finish her prayer. Her mind was spinning with the new information, and she didn’t want to disturb the woman’s time with the gods. Not while Sofia was formulating plans for war. Perhaps it was the feather that was the key to finding the gods of old. She’d prayed to a feather and a dragon had returned, if only briefly. She could do it again.

She could bring back the gods.

* * *

Sofia wokeup before the others, slivers of sunlight seeping through the vines above in an almost familiar way. Despite tossing and turning half the night, her mind on dragons and feathers, she was too anxious to stay asleep any longer. She was quiet as she moved around, draping herself in her borrowed cloak and going about getting ready for today’s hike back.

She hadn’t meant to leave Fox alone overnight, but the trek to the cenote had taken longer than she’d expected. It had been too late to return the night before. She wondered for a moment if he’d be gone when she returned. Perhaps he was headed back to Suvi, ready to tell his commanding officers everything he’d seen and learned. And yet, she didn’t think he was.

Instead of leaving the moment she was packed, she headed back into the dark hallway and into the dragons’ shrine. She’d give one more prayer to the gods. If she was a better person, she wouldn’t have thought about grabbing the feather and running.

“Your accent already sounds better.” Lumi’s voice was soft, but it echoed in the silent room and Sofia gave a small start, mind still on the feather. She turned and saw the shifter leaning against the doorway, eyes bright in the shadows. She could only hope Lumi didn’t see the guilt in her eyes.

“You don’t need to lie,” Sofia said. “I know I still sound like a five-cycle-old child.”

“Oh, no,” Lumi said, stepping forward, careful around the bones. “Little Julio sounds way better than you.”

Sofia allowed herself to laugh, even if the air felt too heavy for such levity.

“We can’t thank you enough for bringing us back here.” They kneeled beside Sofia, reaching a hand out, fingers passing just over the feather. “I’ve never seen a dragon feather before. I was never sure if I believed Tía Muela when she said the tribe used to have one.”

“I only did what I said I would,” Sofia shrugged.

“It’s more than that. These people will finally rest in peace.” Lumi motioned at the bones laid out across the room.

“I wanted to bury them, but I couldn’t?—”

“No one blames you. It seems you’ve done the best you could. The world isn’t kind to our people anymore.” Lumi placed a warm hand on Sofia’s shoulder and she felt herself sinking into the shifter. It had been cycles since she had trusted someone she only just met, and that thought had her pushing away. They might have had a common enemy in the king and his people, but they weren’t on the same side of this war. These people had chosen to stay hidden here instead of fighting, leaving the Dragonborn of Suvi to suffer and die.

“I’m glad you and your people will be here for them,” Sofia said after a moment, standing. “I should head back to check on Fox, but thank you for everything.”

“Let Clarita know you’re leaving, she’s in the kitchens going through the supplies.”

Sofia nodded and left, suddenly anxious to get back to Fox. Even if they weren’t on the same side, at least she knew where his sympathies lay and what he was fighting for.

Clarita was covered in dirt and dust when she popped in and told her she was headed back to the camp. The woman only waved her off, too busy looking through a series of jars and clay pots that she and Fox hadn’t seen.

She didn’t bother with goodbyes as she left. The others had woken while she’d been in the shrine and disappeared off somewhere. It seemed now that she had kept her word and brought them to the cenote and the feather, they trusted her enough to not care where she was.

By the time she was above ground again, the sun had warmed the air and the morning chill was gone. It was one of those days when the weather might convince her that the cold season was ending early, before the snow had even fallen. But she knew tomorrow or the next day, the icy winds would be back, bringing the frost layer down from the northern mountains.

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