He hoped the Seer was right. Jealousy had never been a factor when it came to Orergon and Vehel, as things had just kind of developed that way between the four of them, but if this new guy thought he was going to muscle in and take Dela for himself, he was going to discover how sharp a Norc’s axe could be.
They traveled the whole of the day, only stopping for brief respites to rest and water the horses. The Southern Pass was miraculously quiet, though he stayed alert for any sign of trouble.
An hour before nightfall, the army stopped to pitch camp. The races still mostly stuck together, but he noticed how some of them were now talking, particularly the human men and Norcs who had been together the longest.
Warsgra, however, wanted to seek out Dela and the others. It felt as though it had been a long time since they’d spent any time together, and he figured he could leave his people overnight to be with them.
“Warsgra,” she smiled at him as he approached, “it’s good that we’re all seen together. We’re setting a good example to our people.”
“I hope that’s not the only reason you want to be around me,” he growled, but good naturedly. He knew it wasn’t, but he was feeling a little jealous of the amount of time Vehel had got to spend around her. It was stupid, as Vehel also didn’t have the support of his people, but that stab of envy had poked him in the heart.
She jabbed an elbow in his side. “Of course not. I’ve also missed your witty banter and eloquent conversation,” she teased him in return.
He scooped her around the waist, making her squeal and holding her against him. They’d set up camp at the front of the convoy and had positioned themselves so the back of the tent faced the men behind, giving them privacy. Vehel had already got a fire started and was settling down to cook their meal for the night.
Orergon also joined them, and together the four of them settled around the fire to eat and catch up on how things had gone that day. Dela made sure Iros had her fair share of the food, too.
Something had been niggling at Warsgra, and he found now was the right time to ask about it. “What were you talking about when you mentioned Dela almost getting herself killed?” Warsgra asked Vehel.
Vehel glanced over at Dela.
“It’s okay, you can tell them,” she said. “They’re going to find out eventually, anyway.”
Orergon frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Vehel took a breath. “Dela went into the catacombs to find her brother.”
Warsgra lifted his eyebrows. “She did what?”
“And you helped her?” Orergon asked, incredulous.
“She was going to go whether I helped her or not.”
“You should have told us,” Warsgra snarled. “She could have been killed. What the hell were you thinking, Vehel?”
Dela lifted both hands in a stop sign. “Yes, Vehel helped me because I asked him to. I’d have expected either of you to do the same. I won’t have you acting as though this is Vehel’s fault. I was the one who insisted on going after my brother. You can’t think I’m capable of leading the whole of Xantearos yet not believe me capable of making my own mind up about something like that. I needed Vehel’s magic to keep me safe, and the two of you would have just complicated things.”
Orergon ducked his head. “You’re right, Dela. I’m sorry, Vehel.”
Warsgra grunted. “Aye. I was just being hot-headed.” Still, that little thread of jealousy was back again. She’d confided in Vehel but not them. He didn’t want Dela to feel as though she couldn’t come to him if she needed help with something.
“I found my brother, and I wish it had had a different outcome, but at least now I know.”
Orergon leaned forward, frowning. “What happened to him?”
“He’s dead.” She shook her head. “That’s all you need to know. Maybe I’ll tell the story one day, but right now I can’t bring myself to even think about it.”
Warsgra pushed his hand through his long hair and studied her face. He hated to see the pain etched on her features. “Will you tell your parents?”
She shook her head. “Not the truth, no. Why torture them with something like that? I’ll tell them that he was captured by the Elvish and they put him to death, but I won’t tell them how he’s been living in hell these past three years, and that he died not even knowing who his family were any more.”
“And what about Vehten?” Vehel asked. “What are you going to do about him?”
Dela’s lips thinned. “For the moment, nothing. My revenge on him only distracts me from the bigger picture. That’s not to say I’ll just let this drop, Vehel. He not only took my brother, which I’m sure broke the Treaty long before your magic ever did, but he left him in that place for three years. I know he’s your brother, but I’m not going to just forget about it.”
Vehel’s jaw tightened. “I don’t want you to forget about it. I always thought I looked up to my brothers and my father. I wanted to impress them and make them proud of me, even though deep down I knew I’d never be good enough. But now I’ve no wish to impress them. After what they did back at the castle, trying to force your hand like that, the pair of them can rot down in the catacombs, for all I care.”
Dela reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry, Vehel.”
He shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. This is all on them.”
“You know we’re behind you,” Orergon said. “Whatever you need.”
“Thank you.”
The group finished eating and settled down for the night, all four of them finding a spot to curl up in the tent. Iros took a spot at the opening of the tent, like a large, fire-breathing guard dog.
“You’ll be able to go back to your people at first light,” Dela said as she lay with her arm slung over Warsgra’s chest.
He ducked his head and kissed the top of her hair. “You’re my people now.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Dela
IT HAD BEEN STRANGE sleeping among so many people. She’d dipped in and out of slumber, constantly disturbed by the number of snorers, or people moving around, or animals stamping the ground with their hooves. She was also more than aware of the perils the Southern Pass held, and though she needed to rest, she was also alert for any signs of danger.
With a troop this big, it took a while to get everyone moving again, stamping down their fires once they’d eaten breakfast and dismantling tents of canvas and animal skins. They were slow-moving, but that suited Dela for the moment. She was stiff from riding the horse all the previous day, and wasn’t looking forward to getting back on the animal. It was far more comfortable to ride on a dragon, she’d discovered.
Iros had already grown. She was already too big to ride comfortably on Dela’s shoulder, or curled around her neck. How long would it be until she was full-grown? At the rate she was growing, Dela thought it might not even take six months. Her wings were also stronger, and she was practicing flying by jumping from the horse’s back and flapping as she went down, slowing her descent. On a couple of occasions now, she’d managed to lift herself higher in the air, even flying a few meters, with Dela clapping her encouragement. The horse hadn’t been keen on being used as a jumping spot for a baby dragon at first, but he’d soon grown used to it.
Her thoughts went to Torggu. He would have reached Anthoinia by now, and she hoped he’d be on his way back to find her. Would he have discovered anything useful? If King Crowmere had managed to put together a second army from the people he had left, including those who’d returned to him from the Southern Pass instead of joining her, she wanted to know about it. Crowmere had weapons as well—big weapons, when all they had were swords and axes and spears. She’d hoped to have the Elvish’s archers on her side, so they would have something other than hand-to-hand combat, but that wasn’t going to happen.
But she did have the dragon, and he was better than all the Elvish archers put together.
The army got on the move again.
The temperature of the Southern Pass grew colder the deeper in they traveled. With its towering cliff faces on both sides of them, even though it was now morning, and the sun was rising, it would be mid-day before the sun penetrated all the way down here, and even then, it would only be for an hour or so before it once again passed behind the mountains.
Her horse had started to scuff his hooves across the ground as he walked, and every now and then, one of his knees buckled, pitching her forward with a jerk. The animal had already come all the way from Anthoinia and was now heading back again, so had covered some huge mileage. She didn’t want her mount to end up injured, so she pulled him to a halt and slid down his back until her feet hit the ground. Keeping hold of his reins and allowing Iros to stay perched on the horse’s broad rump, she walked alongside the animal to give him a rest from carrying her weight.
She slipped her hand into her pocket as she walked, her fingers skimming the Dragonstone.
Heat flared up through her fingers, and her heart lurched. She drew to a halt, her pulse suddenly racing. She was falling, plummeting into the tunnel that led her into the mind of the dragon. The towering walls of the Southern Pass no longer existed, and instead she was flying, looking down on the city of Anthoinia far below.
From this height, all she could see were the rooftops of the houses crammed in together, the line of the wall which kept the population inside the city gates, and the roof of the turrets of King Crowmere’s castle in the center. It was impossible to see from this distance if Crowmere was in any way prepared for them.
In the dragon’s body, seeing through his eyes and inhabiting a part of his soul, they flew lower, trying to get a better view of the castle. The place appeared deserted. Could Crowmere have given up and left?
It all seemed quiet. Too quiet.
What was that?
On the flat roof of the castle turrets lay something metal. There were more, she noted on the four other turrets of the castle, on each four corners of its walls. Was this something Crowmere had put in place to try to defeat her army?
Suddenly, a massive bang sounded then something whistled through the air toward them.
The dragon whipped his head around and exhaled a plume of fire, trying to burn whatever it was, but it didn’t work. The thing kept coming, and seconds later a huge metal chain net, which was now red-hot, draped over the top of his body. Torggu let out a screech of anger and rolled, trying to shake the chain off, but a second bang came from behind, and another ball flew through the air. He tried to swerve, but the chain net already hanging from his body weighed him down, and the second one hit, landing across one wing. He shrieked again, but already the chains were making it hard for him to fly, and he was losing height.
No, no, Dela cried in her head.
Crowmere’s men were firing balls with chains attached to them out of the cannons positioned on all four of the turrets. She’d assumed they’d been meant for her army, but now she saw they were meant for the dragon all along.
Another thick chain net fell over the dragon’s back, and he was unable to fly now, falling lower and lower, until he crashed to the flat roof of the castle, shrieking with rage. Soldiers ran toward him, perhaps hoping to claim their prize, but Torggu exhaled a plume of fire, and men screamed as they were caught in the blast, some disintegrating into ashes while others were only on the outskirts and now ran with their whole bodies aflame. Soldiers tried to grab hold of the chains, using metal hoops already embedded in the rock to pin him down, but he whipped around, the chains hitting the men trying to catch him and throwing them away. But Torggu couldn’t watch all sides at one time, and finally someone managed to pin down one side of the chain net, and someone else hooked the chains on the other side. He breathed more fire at them, sending them running, but once he was pinned to the roof of the castle, solid stone, he couldn’t break free.
Nooo, Dela screamed in her head. Leave him alone!
Though she wasn’t aware of it, back in her own body, she was crying hard.
How could she leave him, abandon him like this when he needed her? She knew he was aware of her presence. But she also couldn’t help him like this. She needed to go back to her body in the Southern Pass and tell everyone what had happened. Only her army of people would be able to free him.
She had no choice. Though her heart was breaking, she forced herself to pull away from Torggu’s mind and open her eyes back in her own body.
Dela found herself standing in the Southern Pass, her fingers still pressed to the Dragonstone, with tears streaming down her face. People had gathered around her, staring at her in concern, but knowing they couldn’t interfere.
“Dela,” Vehel said. “Thank the Gods you’re back. What’s happened?”
“Crowmere has Torggu,” she blurted. “He fired metal nets into the sky and caught him.” She bunched up her fists and pressed them to her forehead. “This is all my fault! I never should have sent him there alone! I underestimated Crowmere and thought Torggu was invincible. I should have known better after the Elvish almost brought us down with arrows.”
Warsgra frowned at her and reached out to rub her shoulder. “It’ll be okay. We’ll free him.”
The big Norc trembled in her vision as she stared up at him. “Do you think they’ll hurt him? He’s burning anyone who goes near him, but I don’t know how long he’ll be able to keep that up.”
The leader of the human army, Seth, stepped up. “Dela, I know I’m not one of your right hand men, but I do know King Crowmere. If he thinks he can use the dragon against you, he won’t kill him.”
“Torggu will never hurt me. It doesn’t matter what Crowmere does to him.”
Seth shook his head. “No, but he knows having the dragon will hurt you. Crowmere will use him against you before he kills him.”
“How? How can he use him against me if Torggu won’t hurt me?”
“My guess is that the king will offer to release the dragon in return for you and the others,” Seth said, nodding toward Warsgra, Vehel, and Orergon.
She shook her head. “No, I’d never give them up. He can do what he likes to me, but not the men.”
“Dela!” Vehel exclaimed. “You can’t give yourself up.”
“I won’t let the last dragon die for me.”
“He’s not the last dragon,” Orergon said softly, nodding toward Iros.
Dela sniffed. “No, but he’s one of the last. I can’t let this happen.”
Warsgra drew himself to his full height. “We won’t. We’ll keep marching. If we move quickly, and walk through some of the night, we’ll reach Anthoinia in a couple of days, and then we’ll fight, just as we always planned.”
Dela’s eyes widened. “Two days is too long. I can’t leave him there for all that time.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Warsgra continued. “You can still visit him, though, can’t you? Use the Dragonstone and let him know you’re there and we’re coming for him?”
She dug her teeth into her lower lip, trying to hold back fresh tears. “But two whole days, Warsgra. It’s too long.”
“There’s no other way.”
Orergon nodded. “He’s right.”
She turned the Vehel. “What about your magic? Is there anything you can do?”
“I’m sorry, Dela. I completely drained my magic when I protected you in the catacombs. It’s returning, but it’s nowhere near strong enough to move an entire army to Anthoinia.” He paused and then added, “And besides, I think it would be wiser to save the magic for when we reach Anthoinia now. We’ll make better use of it during the battle.”
Still, she clung to her desperate need to be with her dragon. “What about just us? Couldn’t we free him together?”
“That’s exactly what King Crowmere wants you to do,” Seth warned. “You know he’s ready and waiting for you. Don’t fall into his trap.”
Overwhelmed, Dela clamped her hand to her mouth and turned away, shaking her head. She stood with her back to them for a mome
nt, her shoulders shuddering, and then she took a deep breath and straightened and turned back to them.
Her tears had vanished.
“Then we need to move now, and we need to move fast. Get your men together, and tell them to leave behind anyone who can’t keep up. If there are items that are slowing them down, leave them behind. But keep hold of all the weapons. We’ll be needing them.”
Spurred into action, the men nodded and turned to carry out her orders.
Chapter Twenty-five
Dela
WITH DELA AT ITS HELM, her army marched.
She knew she was being harsh, forcing them to leave those behind who would not be able to keep up, and only allowing short breaks for people to eat and rest their animals, but she had no choice. Darkness fell in the Southern Pass, and still they walked. The night brought with it a somber mood among her army. She hated having to put them through this, but the dragon’s suffering was worse.
She didn’t think she’d be able to cope if Crowmere killed him. She’d have lost a piece of her soul.
What good was a Dragonsayer without her dragon? She knew she had Iros, but her initial connection had been with Torggu, and he would always be her first.
Vehel, Warsgra, and Orergon rode up alongside her.
“Dela, the men need to rest,” Warsgra said. “They won’t be any good to you or the dragon if they’re so exhausted they can’t stand.”
She was exhausted, too, but she couldn’t stop. “No, we need to keep moving.”
“Dela, I’m telling you that we need to stop,” the Norc insisted. “People need to take a break, and I won’t have the animals dropping dead on this journey.”
“He’s right, Dela,” Orergon agreed. “I’m sorry, but you need to listen to us, even if it isn’t what you want to hear.”
She looked to Orergon and saw the genuine concern in his dark eyes. Then to Vehel, whose lips twisted awkwardly in a half-smile, and Warsgra, who glared at her with fierce determination. He rode his huge, white mountain goat to block the path ahead and forced her to pull her horse to a halt.
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