Page 90 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg
“I’ll be right there,” Zeb calls back, his voice carrying the slight hiss common to our kind.
Soon he approaches the opening and stares down at Mina, his pupils constricting into thin lines as he takes a step back. Fear radiates from him in waves, his scent souring with it. “She’s okay, she’s my mate,” I offer, seeing the fear in his eyes. His scales rise defensively along his neck, a subconscious reaction to perceived danger.
“Okay,” he says, the word clipped and uncertain. He offers me his hand and pulls me up into the entrance per tradition, his grip stronger than necessary. “I’ll let you gather your female. Meet me in the sitting room.” Zeb turns and leaves quickly, the sound of his footsteps fading down the tunnel.
I pull Mina up and in, and I watch her sniffing the air, her nostrils flaring slightly. “There’s more than my sister and her mate here.” Mina draws in a deep breath, and I watch as her dragonic slits recede, returning to more human-looking eyes.
“His family is here, as well as the matriarch.” I reach down and take Mina’s hand, feeling the tension in her fingers as I lead her down the tunnel. The walls here are smoother, polished by generations of basilisks moving through the narrow passage. Small glowing crystals embedded in the ceiling provide gentle illumination, casting our shadows in strange, elongated forms against the walls. I stop us at the entry to the sitting area, the sound of multiple conversations growing louder.
“Only family is allowed here, Balor. You know the rules.” The matriarch says as she stands, her ancient body moving with surprising grace. Her scales have lost their luster with age, turning from vibrant obsidian to a muted gray black, but her eyes remain sharp and calculating. The air in the room shifts, growing heavier with her authority.
“Mina is Amara’s half-sister and was requested to be here to represent her side of her family.” I pull Mina flush to my side, feeling the coiling tension in her body. Her muscles are tight, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation. The scent of her changes subtly, taking on a metallic edge that warns of danger.
“Her sister is a green dragon. They are not welcome here.” The matriarch says with a hiss, her forked tongue flicking out to taste the air. The other basilisks in the room shift uncomfortably, their bodies rustling against stone and fabric.
“Good thing I’m not a green dragon.” Mina’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade as she takes off her hood, letting her green and silver hair fall to her waist in a cascade that catches the light from the crystal lamps. The twin silver horns on her head that stretch back over a foot should have been enough proof of her heritage. She shifts her hands, allowing her silver talons to emerge as well as the mostly silver scales with an iridescent green sheen to them. The transformation is beautiful and terrifying all at once—skin giving way to armored plates that gleam with metallic brilliance.
The matriarch backs up two steps as Mina’s presence fills the sitting room. The air is growing heavy with power. “Our mother was a titanium and iron dragon. My sire was indeed a green dragon. If you dare to feel my scales, you know I am my mother’s daughter.” Mina hisses back at the matriarch, the sound more serpentine than human.
I take the handle of my knife and hit Mina’s scales. The metallic sound of metal hitting metal rings out, echoing in the chamber like abell. Her scales are as hard as an iron dragon’s, the proof undeniable to all present. The impact sends vibrations up my arm, and I suppress a wince at the unexpected intensity.
The other basilisks talk among themselves in hushed whispers, their voices creating a susurration like dry leaves in the wind. Amara emerges from a side tunnel, her movement fluid and graceful. Unlike the others, her scales bear a similar metallic quality to Mina’s, though hers lean more toward bronze than silver. She dives into Mina’s arms with enough force to make Mina step back to maintain balance.
The change in Mina is immediate—her scales recede as she snuggles her sister, the hard edges of her defenses softening in an instant. The scent of her emotions shifts from defensive to joyful, the air around her warming with it.
“You’re the dominant female. Do you have a flight?” Amara asks with a smile as she peppers Mina’s cheeks with kisses, each one making a soft sound against Mina’s skin.
“I am. I have twelve families under my protection as of right now. Another eight want to join,” Mina says, nuzzling her sister, their foreheads touching in a gesture of intimacy that makes my chest tighten with affection.
“She is your mate?” The matriarch directs the question to me, her ancient eyes narrowing suspiciously. Her voice carries the weight of centuries, dry and crackling like old parchment.
“She is.” I stand up a little taller, proud of the female I get to call mine. My chest expands with the declaration, shoulders squaring as I meet the matriarch’s gaze without flinching.
“We are losing too many males to the dragons. Our species will die out, eventually.” She growls, the sound rumbling deep in her chest. Mina’s head whips toward her, the movement so fast it disturbs the surrounding air.
“Evolution is about change.” Mina says calmly as she pushes her sister behind her, the gesture protective and instinctual. “Dragons are doomed to die off because they favor a dragon bond above all others.” She glances over at me and lowers her eyes for a moment. A gesture of respect in basilisk culture that doesn’t go unnoticed by the others. “Your people, like mine, are suffering with infertility issues because of limited genetic diversity.”
Mina flexes her hands as if ready to get into a fight, the soft sound of her talons extending, sending a ripple of tension through the room. “I am immune to your venom and your stone gaze because my bloodline is diverse. By the looks of the main pit, you are having more weaker-born basilisks than strong ones. It’s from lack of diversity.” Mina narrows her eyes at the matriarch, the golden color intensifying with her emotion.
I feel the shift in the matriarch before it happens—a subtle change in the air pressure, a faint scent of venom. Her eyes shift to her basilisk form, slitted and deadly, and she tries her stone gaze on Mina. The power of it ripples through the air like heat waves, making the very atmosphere distort. Mina thankfully covers her sister’s eyes in time, her movement swift and precise.
Within seconds, Mina’s eyes glow golden as they shift to her dragon’s, the light from them illuminating her face from within. She stares back, unflinching in the face of an attack that would turn most creatures to stone. “You can’t hurt me.” A deep growl escapes Mina’s lips as her dragon’s dominance floods the room, the sound vibrating in my chest cavity.
The other basilisks hit the ground as Mina’s presence makes the room feel dangerous, the weight of her power pressing down on them like a physical force. The sound of bodies hitting stone echoes through the chamber, followed by the rasp of scales against the floor as they prostrate themselves. I’m the only basilisk left standing, and I tilt my head, looking at her with undisguised admiration.
Mina winks then touches the scale on the back of her neck—my scale—the one we exchanged during our bonding. The scale exchange is what’s protecting me from her dominance display. The connection between us hums with energy, a tangible link that keeps me anchored against the storm of her power.
“My love, release them. I’m sure they’ve learned their lesson.” I kiss Mina’s cheek, tasting the salt on her skin. She turns and presses the bridge of her nose under my jaw, a submissive gesture that contradicts the display of power she just unleashed. Her warm breath against my throat sends a shiver of pleasure down my spine. Slowly she exhales and settles down almost immediately, the pressure in the room dissipating like fog under the morning sun.
“As you wish, my love,” Mina says loud enough for everyone to hear her, the declaration of submission to me specifically designed to save face for the other basilisks. Her voice has returned to its normal register, the growl gone as if it never existed.
“Our eggs should be hatching any minute now,” Amara says as she moves to stand before us. Her excitement is palpable, her scent sweet with anticipation.
“I can’t wait,” Mina says as she holds my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze that conveys her mix of emotions—excitement, nervousness, and a lingering trace of apprehension.
Amara leads us deeper into her pit, the tunnel narrowing before opening into a warm chamber filled with soft nesting materials and the pulsing heat of incubating eggs. The scent here is different—new life, warm stone, and the distinctive odor of hatching fluids beginning to seep from the eggs’ tiny cracks.
Today could have ended very badly. Thankfully, Mina’s temper is finally under control. I squeeze her hand in silent appreciation, feeling the weight of what we’ve accomplished. We’ve navigateddangerous territory, both literal and metaphorical, and come out stronger for it. As we approach the clutch of eggs, their surfaces beginning to show the first signs of hatching, I can’t help but feel a surge of hope for the future—for us, for our kind, and for the evolution that Mina spoke of with such conviction.
