Page 68 of Fire in Stone

“No. Mother has no children, in that she never birthed any. But she is the Mother of our Order and the Head of the Sanctuary.”

Ertee returned, carrying a pile of wet rags.

“Here. These should help.” She set the rags on another rock, then took one and draped it over my leg.

The cloth was icy cold, soothing the burn. I moaned in relief.

“Good?” She smiled. “I layered the cloth with snow to chill the fabric.” Encouraged by my reaction, she promptly laid more pieces of cloth on my legs, arms, and head. She even fitted one gently between my thighs. “Feeling better?”

I gave her a small nod, careful not to disturb the fabric on my head. “So, you made me bald…” The last word lodged in my throat.

“There’s nothing wrong with being bald,” Ertee assured me. “Isar shaves her head. She claims it’s best in a fight. No one can grab you by your hair or strangle you with your own braid.”

What had the lives of these women been like if those were the things they had to consider when choosing a hairstyle?

I rolled my head to the side, my gaze falling on the statue on the dais.

“And is this your goddess? The one you worship?”

Zenada followed my stare to the statue. “Yes. It’s the Great MotherSalamandra.”

The statue on the dais wasn’t entirely a woman, I noticed. Her upper body was humanoid with a beautiful, serene face, a thick braid draped over her shoulder, and a pair of small breasts covered by a cascade of beads and jewels hanging from around her neck. She held a long spear in one hand and a bouquet of field flowers in the other.

The lower part of the statue was the body of a giant lizard. Two clawed feet poked out from underneath her skirts. A long tail curled around the dais, circling a pile of large egg-shaped objects at the woman’s feet.

“She is the mother of the seventeen sons, who founded our kingdom,” Ertee explained softly. “One became the king. The others started the noble bloodlines of the sixteen High Lords we now have in Dakath.”

Isar returned, carrying a bowl in her hands.

“The midday meal is long over. But since you missed it…” She thrust the bowl and a spoon at me, then stood uncertainly, unsure how to feed me while I was lying down.

“I’ll do it.” Ertee took the bowl from her.

Zenada helped me to sit up, supporting my head and shoulders.

The icy pieces of cloth on my body did their job, cooling off the burn. The cold air, however, now made me shiver uncontrollably.

“Oh no.” Zenada shook her head in concern. “She’s cold now.”

Isar covered me with the spare blanket Zenada had left on the rock nearby.

“It must be hard, having no control over your body temperature.” She tucked the blanket all around me.

“It must be very convenient to be in control of that,” I retorted, making them all smile.

With Zenada supporting me in my sitting position, Ertee offered me a spoonful of a dark porridge-like substance. It had a strong, nutty smell.

“Buckwheat,” she explained. “It’s good. Try it.”

My stomach seemed to have shrunk to nothing in the past few hours. It was empty, though I hadn’t felt hungry, overwhelmed by everything else.

“Thanks, but I can feed myself.” I took the spoon from her, then ate the warm buckwheat. It lacked seasoning and tasted rather watery, but I didn’t complain. The warmth settled pleasantly in my cold, empty stomach, and I reached for more with my spoon.

“How often do humans eat?” Ertee asked.

“Three meals a day.” I said around the mouthful, then added, “At least.”

Ertee exchanged a look with Isar. “We should let Mother know.” She then said to me, “We have one meal a day at the Sanctuary, but Mother may make an exception for you.”

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