Spinel had jumped off to scour the area while silent Larimar walked around the hatching holes, carrying Ansgarde yet again.

Her mind wandered to the times when dragons cared for their young on this very island. These holes could fit at least a hundred eggs. How many did they lay at a time? How often? How long before a fledgling was independent? He couldn’t have known that. Unless…

“Did Embers live here during dragon times?”

“Right after.”

Just as she thought. She wouldn’t be able to feed her curiosity until she freed the ancient race. Then she could ask them herself.

The sun bloomed on the horizon, making up for the warmth they left behind with the glowing tree. Long shadows stretched on the ground as if the night was looking for a way to hold on but losing the fight.

Spinel came back, holding a brown leaf in front of his face. He stopped and looked at Ansgarde in bewilderment.

She translated, “She wants to know if it’s safe to eat.”

“Oh,” he gave her a brief nod. “It’s fine. Not tasty but fine.”

She landed on Ansgarde’s arm and started chomping on the leaf. Ansgarde’s stomach twisted. She wished her tastebuds were as open as Spinel’s. So far, she had spotted nothing edible around here. What did these humans eat? She cringed as she remembered Mafic bite on a large insect. No, she would never be hungry enough to sink that low.

She leaned her cheek on his shoulder. The stiff cloth of his cape was surprisingly very soft. His brown hair tickled her hand, swaying to the rhythm of his stride. It was easy to forget what he was when he was quiet like this.

They went around a rocky wall, revealing a large purple pool in front of a small but steep mountain. A few trees like miniatures of the one they left behind grew around the edge, their soft glow reflecting in the water. A rushing stream split the rock in the middle. Ansgarde blinked, unsure if her eyes were deceiving her.

“The water…” her mind couldn’t wrap around what she was seeing. “What in the infernal pits is happening?”

Larimar did not answer but carried her closer. Spinel paused eating and stared at the waterfall, as shocked as she was.

Water erupted out of the pool and climbed the mountain in white streams, defying gravity. It bounced off the rocks and split into multiple paths, all ending at the top.

Ansgarde signaled for Larimar to let her go, slid out of his arms and took to the air. The closer to the mountain she got, the stronger she felt the change in gravity. It was very similar to the feeling of approaching the midpoint zone in Heliodor.

She held out her hand and laughed as the water hit her, stinging her palm.

“How is this possible?” she called out, but he likely did not hear her over the roar of the water.

She flew higher, basking in the ease of the lighter gravity. She missed this. The wind sprinkled her with droplets, soaking her tunic, but she didn’t mind. It was worth getting wet to experience this wonder. At the top, the water slithered and bubbled among slick rocks, the musty scent tingling in her nostrils. She followed it to the other side of the mountain where it fell like a regular waterfall into another purple pool. Vertigo hit her like a brick, and she faltered in flight. The gravity changed polarity again, pulling her down with force.

She made her way back to the miraculous climbing stream and glided down in a slow zigzag, under the water and back out, dangerously close to the rocks, feeling like a spawn in a fun-house.

She found Larimar halfway up the mountain, waiting for her, his cape left at the bottom. He sat on a ledge just in his brown skirt, bare feet dangling in the stream, and let the droplets rush between his toes.

She hovered next to him, not hiding her grin. Having a guide definitely had its perks. “What is this place?”

“Phoenix Bath.” He looked down and back up at her, squinting at the rain. “Baby dragons used these ledges when learning to fly.”

Ansgarde clasped her hands, imagining fledglings line up in a queue, awaiting their turn. This was a perfect place for safe practice: low gravity and water to break their fall. This island was the perfect nursery.

Larimar stood up, winked at her and jumped off the ledge, through the waterfall, and splashed in the purple pool below. He disappeared in its depths and emerged much further away. He swam to the edge in lazy strokes and lifted himself on his arms, dripping onto the grass. Without the cape, he didn’t look as intimidating. He was downright skinny.

As much as she wanted to play in the waterfall, she was too tired to continue. She flew down next to him and carefully landed on one foot. He held out his hands, and she took the offer, using him for balance. She was growing used to his disrobed state but still avoided looking directly at his bare chest. Standing next to him, she barely reached the top of his shoulder. She switched to holding onto just one of his arms, wanting at least a little control. He could carry her again later if he wanted.

“Where’s Spinel?”

He moved the untamed hair out of his face, where it dripped onto his bare back, and pointed at the bushes behind him. “She always like this?” He bared his teeth and imitated eating an invisible leaf.

Ansgarde exploded in laughter and nodded. It didn’t take long to figure out the little Brumal.

He led her to a glowing tree, where his cape awaited. They sat down to warm up by its roots.

The pool’s water rippled in soft waves, reflecting the golden rays of the morning sun and soft purple of the glowing trees. Tiny insects hovered over the surface, touching it with their thin legs.

Ansgarde settled on a large rock and allowed him a moment to gather his thoughts. He promised he would tell her about the curse, and she would hold him to his word.