---
Silence stretched between them. Then, softly, the fat orange bird opened one eye. It stared at Fenna. Then blinked. And blinked again.
It burped.
Fenna snorted. "Of course."
Zephyr grinned. "So… you're a mom now?"
"I guess I am," she whispered. She looked over her shoulder at Zephyr.
He stepped beside her and took her hand. "Together," he said.
The cavern was still aglow with a soft amber light, as if the volcano itself was holding its breath. The Ember Matron watched Fenna and Zephyr with an intensity that felt like standing before a dying sun—powerful, ancient, loving couple, and unwavering.
"She must stay here," the Matron said gently, but firmly.
Fenna blinked. "Stay?"
The Matron gave a slow nod. "I do not have long, but what remains of me, my flame, my wisdom must be passed on. You are to guide my daughter. But first, I must guide you."
Fenna looked down at the snoring fluffball, still sprawled on her back. Her feathers twitched, and she let out another tiny burp.
