DUSKLIGHT ODYSSEY

Chapter 7

Ion trudged through sun-scorched dust lit as embers in dusk's light as Naim followed several paces behind. "Far west?" he asked.

"Far west, against frozen winds, past sorrowed—"

"Past sorrowed lands, and soaked in a never-ending sunrise, yes. And it was the wind what told you?"

"But that wasn't all it said! A lake where trees grew, and children laughed. Beneath the lake—"

"Far beneath, life can nest anew, and the sun will set on a world of hope again. Bring it there."

Naim huffed in frustration as she hastened her step to walk alongside Ion. "You didn't let me finish!"

Ion stopped suddenly and turned to face her. "Naim..." he began.

"Ye-e-es?" Naim replied in a mocking, sing-song sort of way.

"Where did you find that egg, Naim?"

Her arms tightened around it, as tightly as she shut her lips in reply.

"How long have you had it?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes.

Ion leered over her. "That egg is important."

Naim's pouting face was pointed in another direction. "This egg has a name, as you well know." She flicked her eyes toward Ion, expectantly.

Ion was loathe to play games with the girl, but it seemed to him there was little else that could be done. "Vio," he let out as a sigh.

The girl eyed him up and down. "I found him. I named him. And I've taken care of him." Her gaze returned to the ground. "I rescued him. From that pool of water where we met. One day he bubbled up. Eggs need to be taken care of, you know." She turned her head toward Ion. "Have you ever seen a bird?"

Ion shook his head.

"Neither have I," she said. "But my grandfather told me about them once. Colorful little creatures with two legs and long noses that used to sing songs from the trees—I've always wondered what songs they would sing. That's where eggs came from: birds. They used to sit on them, isn't that interesting? And after a long time, a baby bird popped out." She seemed amused at the notion. A warm smile spread across her face.

"And that egg—Vio—it's massive."

"He is," she said. "Can you imagine how big a bird must be inside? And if he's just a baby, just think of how big he'll be once he's all grown up!"

"I always heard that eggs were a kind of food," Ion said.

Naim's smile turned to alarm. "You're not going to eat him!"

Ion simpered flatly. "No, I am not." He thought for a moment, looking at the off-white orb nestled in her arms. "If birds lay eggs, then what laid him?"

"Well that's obvious," she said, "it was the pool. That's where he came from."

"Pools don't lay eggs."

"I'd have thought the same thing, till I saw it. Straight from the middle, he floated right to the top, with bubbles all around. Poor thing." She gently stroked the egg with loving caress. "A pool of water doesn't make for a good mother, does it? Every baby needs a good mother."

Ion looked away. "I suppose so."

"I had to swim out to get him," she recalled. "I almost drowned!"

"Yet here you are," said Ion. "Like it was meant to be." He turned to see the last remnants of mulberry light from the setting sun. "And the wind told you to take him that way. West."

"That's right," she said, "to a lake—an even bigger pool of water. If only you could see it: a darker blue than I could ever imagine." She let out a wistful sigh. "It was beautiful. Everything was so beautiful; and it was like I was really there. That's where Vio belongs."

"And that's where you'll take him."

Naim looked at the ground, then turned her eyes up to see the tall silhouette of Ion, whose long cloak billowed gently in the arid wind. He cast a minatory shadow against the darkening sky, the antlers of an élaf branching upward as twisting wings of thorn from his back, a cross of iron laid on his shoulder. "Ion," she began.

Ion broke his gaze from the horizon, but didn't turn around.

"Will you come with me?"

His voice, dry like the desert floor, replied in its low, scratchy monotone: "I will."