Eye of the Oracle by Bryan Davis

“They don’t have much to do, so we’re seeing more births than we expected. In fact, the elephant is about to calve. I was coming up to get Shem or Japheth to help me.”
    “Oh. I thought maybe Naamah was down there helping you.”
    “Naamah?” Ham hesitated, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Yes, she’s down there, but she’s too small to help with the elephant.”
    “I see.” Makaidos pulled his head from the hole and aimed his eyebeams into Shem’s quarters. The faithful son of Noah slept soundly, nestled with his wife in their pile of straw. The soothing noises of human sleep drifted into the dragon’s ears, twin sounds of contented, rhythmic breathing.
    Ham climbed up the ladder and stood with his hands on his hips. “It’s a shame to wake them.”
    “Indeed.”
    Ham shuffled in and nudged Shem’s shoulder. “Elephant’s calving. Time to get up.”
    Makaidos slunk toward his stall, listening to the quiet voice of Shem’s wife behind him.
    “Of course I’m coming with you again. Pregnant or not, I can move straw around and clean up the blood.”
    “Okay,” Shem replied, “but be careful on the ladder rungs.”
    Noah stepped out of his quarters with his wife. “So,” he said, “young Madeline must have been with child, er, with elephant, before she came on board.”
    Emzara held out her hand. “Let’s go! I have never seen an elephant birth.”
    Stopping at the entry to his quarters, Makaidos looked back. Shem’s wife walked beside her husband, one hand on her belly and the other holding tightly to his hand. While Shem descended the ladder, she looked back at Makaidos. When their eyes met, she beamed. Such a smile! It would have melted the heart of the stoniest cynic. There was no doubt. Motherhood had dressed her with sheer joy.
    Noah kept a grip on his wife’s elbow as she maneuvered into position on the ladder. When she was safely on her way, Noah let go, straightened himself, and smiled at Makaidos. The old man nodded. “You seem perplexed, my dear dragon.”
    Makaidos sighed. “Watching humans has often perplexed me. They are so strange.”
    Noah stroked his chin and nodded again. “Is that so?” Carefully grasping the ladder, he started his descent, but before his head submerged below the deck, he stopped, and his bushy eyebrows knitted together. “Is love really so strange, Makaidos? Even at my age, after hundreds of years of being together, my wife and I are closer in oneness every day. My heart will always be with Emzara.” Noah then disappeared below deck.
    Makaidos slid into his quarters and gazed at Thigocia. With her eyes wide and her ears rotating, she looked more beautiful than ever.
    “Did you figure out who screamed?” she asked.
    “It could have been a parrot down below. It seemed pretty nervous.” Makaidos crawled to the middle of their stall and kept his gaze locked on Thigocia’s eyes. “There is a dark fog creeping about. That might have spooked the parrot. I felt danger when I saw the fog, but then Ham showed up. I think I might have felt him coming.”
    “I see.” Thigocia lay back down and scooted farther into her corner. “Are you going to sleep?”
    “No.” Makaidos lumbered back into the corridor. He lay on his belly but kept his head high as he turned to Thigocia. “I will wait here until Noah returns, and, if you are in agreement, I would like to attempt the covenant veil again.”
    A sharp chill snapped Naamah awake. She gasped for air, flailing her arms, ready to battle the pounding waves, but rather than the wetness she expected, cool dry air bathed her body. Jerking her head back and forth, she tried to sort out the blurry images. Everything seemed to bounce around, jumping and shaking, but as her senses adjusted, a view of sea waves and foam came into focus below her. Her arms continued to beat the air, each flap taking her farther away from the water.
    Glancing in the direction her hand should be, she caught a glimpse of a wing, a