Phoenix Rising (Dragon Legacy) by Previn Hudetz

you did go gray around the ears. This is just perfect.” He turned around and saw her, definitely older but still beautiful. He got up from his stool and started toward her with a broad smile.
    “Kai,” he began, finally remembering her name, but before he could finish, her palm shot out and smacked him across the face. Wow, that actually hurt! She stood there defiantly, eyes filled with fire, hands on her hips. Then a muscled youth of about sixteen walked into the room and saw them.
    He walked over and stepped up beside Kai. “What's going on here?” he asked protectively, crossing his powerful arms across a broad chest. “Who's this guy?” he jerked his thumb at Quinn.
    Uh-oh. That rugged jaw line looked awfully familiar, Quinn noted with a shock.
    “Quincy, that...man...is your father. Talk to him. I can't deal with this right now.” With that, she nudged her son toward Quinn and stormed out of the room.
    “Oh,” they said in unison.
     
     
     
     

Unexpected Guest
     
    Mtumba didn't like how things were going right now. Ever since Commander Tobias had arrived, Old John had grown increasingly distant. He was always working on something, and never seemed to have time to talk anymore. Mtumba missed that. He needed to talk with someone, and it couldn't be Stella or Rok, since it was sort of about them.
    Rok. What a dumb name, he thought. As in, dumb as a Rok. He snickered, imagining the golden boy looking at something with that quizzical expression he always seemed to have plastered across his face.
    That might be a little unfair, but he was frustrated and didn't know what to do. He sighed as he gathered up the radishes into the bin to carry them in for stew. Their last meal together, Old John had informed them with something like regret in his eyes. Sometimes Mtumba didn't understand people. If you didn't want it to be the last meal, then don't leave. Simple.
    However, with grown-ups out here, things were never simple. Always seemed like ten times more things to do than there should be. That's not how it was with his tribe, no sir. Well, at least not usually. He had to admit there were times...
    “Mtumba,” Stella called from the cottage door. He didn't look up. “Hey, Mtumba.” She walked over to him and stood in front of him. “You hear me?”
    “I hear you,” he muttered.
    Stella knelt down beside him. “Look, I told you I was sorry about that whole thing with the egg, so if you're mad about that, then-”
    He threw the trowel on the ground, then forced himself to take a deep breath before asking her what was on his mind. “Are we still friends?” There. It was out.
    Stella looked at him, concern on her face. “Of course we are.”
    “Really? Because ever since Rok popped out of that mountain it hasn't seemed like it.” He felt a sharp welling up in his eyes, and he felt his face trying to twitch. Dang it, he didn't want to cry. Crying was for girls. He looked away and took a deep breath, pushing those emotions down as deep as he could.
    Stella put her hand on his arm, searching his eyes. “I'll always be your friend.”
    He didn't know what possessed him, but he pushed her off and ran for the lake. He could hear her following him as fast as she could, yelling for him to stop, but he used to run the mountain trails with his brothers and fathers back on Kaj, and he was fast.
    He felt his legs carrying him like they used to before everything had fallen apart, and for a moment he let himself forget where he was and felt free. He was breathing heavily and looking up at the sky when Mtumba felt the water of the lake up to his waist, hands uplifted, and head tilted back. He was praying his birth song again, and his wimbaji mawe was thrumming strong against his chest, the echo to his broken heart.
    He felt the tears now, unable to stop them anymore, but closed his eyes and kept praying anyway. Finally, he came to the end, and let his hands fall to the cool water. He turned around, and Stella was