Pulling the blanket tighter around herself, shivering a little from the cold, Nessa squeezed her eyes closed, begging for a reprieve from dark thoughts and nightmares.
Hunter emitted a low moan, one that came from deep in his throat, primal and anguished.
Too tired to feel much sympathy, Nessa flung back her blanket, dodged another kick, and reached out a hand, intending to shake Hunter awake. She nearly jumped out of her skin when someone grabbed her wrist.
“I thought you were asleep,” Nessa gasped.
Orm pulled himself out of the awkward sprawl he’d somehow got himself in, arched over Aoife’s tail and rolled his head, loosening the stiff muscles in his neck and shoulders.
“Oddly enough,” he murmured, releasing her wrist, “I wasn't. I just couldn’t get comfortable.”
“Mm, odd indeed.” Nessa turned back to Hunter as he groaned again, his head lolling from side to side, sweat beading on his skin. “He’s having a nightmare. Should we wake him?”
“Never wake a man from a nightmare,” Orm advised. “It’s bad luck. Anyway, he needs to face his devils. Otherwise, he’ll never be free of them.”
“And what devils is he facing?”
“Let’s just say that wasn’t the first massacre he’s got himself caught up in…”
∞∞∞
An odd smell drifted through the air. Nessa sniffed, trying to sleepily identify the offending scent, and pushed herself up on her elbows, uncurling from the ball she had slept uneasily in.
“Is that burning egg?” Hunter murmured, groggily rubbing his eyes.
“I think so.”
Horror washed over Hunter’s face, and he jumped to his feet. “Orm’s cooking.”
Nessa recalled Orm’s prior attempt at scrambled egg and stood, grimacing, praying that their sense of smell was awry after the trauma of last night. Unfortunately, though, she caught sight of Orm just a few yards away, sat by a small fire, nursing a pan that spewed noxious smoke.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve mastered this whole cooking thing,” Orm said with a wry grin, looking none the worse for wear. “Breakfast is nearly done.”
“Breakfast, eh?” Hunter peered up at the bright, blue sky. “If you say so.”
Orm waved a hand. “Breakfast. Brunch.” He shrugged and prodded at the blackened jiggling mass in the pan with a spatula. “Lunch. Same difference.”
Nessa glanced at Hunter, feeling a little panicked. “I thought we had no food supplies left.”
“We didn’t. We don’t.”
“Then where did the eggs come from?”
“When it comes to Orm, it’s usually better for the questions to go unanswered.”
“I don’t think I can stomach nice food at the moment, let alone something Orm’s whipped up from…I don’t even know where.”
“Yeah…umm…” Hunter cast around, looking for a solution. “Maybe, when he turns his back to us, we can fling our plate-load into those bushes over there.”
“That way,” Nessa said, relieved at the plan, “he doesn't get his feelings hurt, and we don’t have to eat whatever monstrosity he’s cooked up.”
Hunter grinned. “Everyone’s as happy as can be. It’s win-win.”
Carefully stepping over the scaled tail encompassing them, mindful not to wake the sleeping dragon, Nessa and Hunter cautiously made their way over to Orm. Nessa fixed what she hoped was a cheery smile on her face and sat down next to him, murmuring a greeting as she eyed the thing in the frying pan.
Hunter plonked himself down opposite them and leaned forwards. “And what, my dear friend,” he asked, jabbing their “breakfast” quickly with a finger, “is this monstrosity?”
Orm raised the spatula threateningly. “You know full well what it is.”
“A delicious meal?”
“Exactly.”
“It certainly looks interesting,” Nessa added, “and smells…”
“Divine?” Orm finished.
“Um.”
Hunter clapped his hands. “Well, as you said, you’ve mastered it today, so best dish it up so we can get on with the day and…and…”
“And what?”
“Yeah,” Nessa said slowly, “what are we to do now?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Orm asked, somewhat confused, using the spatula to cut their meal into three pieces before scooping them onto plates, where each bit retained its shape with disturbing perfection. “Has something changed with our plans?”
Nessa and Hunter shared a loaded look.
“Well,” Hunter said, hesitant, “after what happened last night and to…umm…Chaos—”
“Chaos,” Orm cut in, voice suddenly thick, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed his simmering emotions, “would expect us to continue with the original plan. So that’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to go to Ellor. We’re going to figure out why the bloody king is calling back his cursed Dragon Riders, and we’re also going to find out why he came here and razed an entire town. Then, when the time comes, I’m going to ensure that King Kaenar meets a very painful, very slow end for killing my friend.”
With tears in his whiskey-coloured eyes, Orm picked up his plate and hurried away, disappearing into a cluster of trees, swiftly vanishing from sight.
Hunter released a pent-up breath. “Well…I really don’t know what to say…”
“I don’t think there’s much to say,” Nessa murmured.
“Mmm. Seems like Orm is of a mind for a wee bit of revenge.”
“He was crying earlier,” Nessa confessed. “Before sunrise.”
“Oh?”
“You woke me,” she peered at Hunter through her lashes, gauging his reaction, “when you were having a nightmare.” He shrugged, appearing nonchalant, although Nessa saw a muscle tick in his jaw. “Anyway, Orm was awake too, and we just kind of, well… He just started talking about Chaos, rambling on about how he was going to miss him and how he thought he would always have Chaos to turn to if he needed help of the magical persuasion. Aoife mentioned something last night about how Orm looked up to Chaos as a father figure, but I think that Chaos meant a lot more to Orm than just that.”
Hunter cleared his throat. “Orm’s never met his birth father, and since his mother is human, when he came into his powers, he hit a rather rough patch that she couldn’t help him through. I think Chaos was the only one who could help, who did help, and because of that, I think Orm…” Hunter sighed. “Well, you get the picture. Now, quickly, fling the ‘scrambled eggs’ into those bushes over there before he comes back. I’m pretty sure mine’s moving.”
∞∞∞
Nessa ran a hand down the front of her long dress, smoothing out a couple of creases and checking that the lacing sat just right. With a twinge of sadness from knowing the fate of its seamstress, Nessa admired how well the dress fit, how fine the detailing was. Eliza’s fate. With a sigh, Nessa slipped her feet back into her shoes, which fit a lot more comfortably without being squeezed over Hunter’s chunky socks, and double checked that her arm warmers were covering her Rider’s Mark and that they sat neatly over the dress’ sleeves.
Bending over, Nessa picked up the bag which held a jumbled mixture of both hers and Hunter’s clothing, and moved out from behind the coppice of young trees she had used as cover whilst changing.
Hunter and Orm were sat shoulder to shoulder, poring over a map and bickering about which route to take. They had changed into fresh clothing too, not that it made all that much of a difference. Both of them were dressed in their customary tunic and trous, favouring plainer, darker colours today. Nessa left them to it, seeing as she wouldn’t be of much help, and went over to Aoife, who blinked sleepily at her.
I see you’ve gone with the blue dress.
I’m in a blue dress kind of mood.
Oh, Nessie. Aoife stretched out her long neck, touching the tip of her snout to the top of Nessa’s head. It was a dragon’s version of a comforting pat on the back, Nessa supposed. Mourn for tho
se who perished in Arncraft, but do not let sorrow consume you.
Nessa strapped the clothing bag onto Aoife’s back alongside the others, making a mental note to squirrel away Chaos’ strange book later, before Hunter and Orm could stumble upon it.
The book held secrets. Nessa wanted to be the one to uncover them.
Patting Aoife’s side, Nessa stepped back, her eyes running over the web of ropes holding three tents and bags of other things and supplies onto Aoife’s back, checking that everything was secure.
Thank you for the advice, Nessa said. Have you thought about sharing it with Orm? He seems to be on a warpath.
Aoife turned and peered at Orm contemplatively. Hmm. Hopefully, he’ll calm down in a day or two?
Hopefully.
Maybe Hunter will talk some sense into him?
Nessa snorted. Hunter and sense? I don’t think those two go together.
No, perhaps not. I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see how this plays out. If worst comes to worst, I could always fly him somewhere remote and abandon him there for a little while. Just until he sees reason.
At least we have a backup plan.
“Right, it appears that we are ready to go,” Hunter said, jumping to his feet and rolling up the map. “Everyone’s dressed. Aoife’s all loaded up. And our course has been decided.”
“Oh,” Nessa raised her eyebrows, “and dare I ask what that entails?”
Hunter smirked. “More walking for a start.”
Nessa groaned.
“We’ll be making a slight detour south. There’s a decent-sized village about six miles away. Orm managed to not only pocket his winnings last evening, but also managed to grab the other player’s coins as they ran from the attack, so we’re oddly well off at the moment, financially speaking. Hopefully, we’ll be able to purchase a trio of horses.”
“Horses?” Nessa was surprised. “I thought you weren’t to be trusted when it came to horses?”
“Orm’s changed his mind on the matter, provided I have nothing to do with them other than ride one to the capital.”
“Ah.”
“With horses,” Orm said, hopping to his feet, “we’ll be able to shave a day or two off our journey.” He began walking away from them, heading over to a group of bushes. “I want to get to the capital in time for the gossiping to start.”
Hunter frowned. “Then why are you going northward instead of south?”
“Because, my dear boy, I need a piss, and those bushes, northward they may be, look like a mighty fine place to have one.”
“I don’t know about you,” he said to Nessa, scowling as Orm disappeared behind the bushes. “But that was a bit more information than I really wanted to know.”
“Well, you did ask.”
“Yeah, but he could have simply said that he was going to deal with some ‘personal business’.”
“Mm, well. At least he seems cheerier?”
Hunter grimaced. “While you were changing, he gave me a rundown of his plans once he has King Kaenar in his clutches. It’s brightened his mood up considerably.”
“Ah.”
“There was mention of eye-gouging.”
“Ew.”
“With a spoon.”
“A spoon?”
“Yep.” Hunter looked a little too animated for Nessa’s comfort. “Apparently, the bluntness would add to his suffering, and the shape of the spoon would make for a nice scooping action.”
“He’s put an alarming level of thought into that.”
Hunter shrugged. “What can I say? Orm’s had a meditative night.”
“Oh dear.”
“There’s nothing like planning sweet revenge to warm the cockles of a man’s heart.”
Nessa raised a brow. “Oh, sounds like you’re speaking from personal experience. Don’t suppose that has something to do with what’s between you and Margan, now, would it?”
“Ah,” Hunter’s eyes brightened. “Margan. Yes, I suppose I am talking about him, in a way.”
“And what, dare I ask, are you planning on doing to him?”
“Apparently, I’m going to be leaving him to stew for a bit longer while I make sure my childhood friend doesn’t get himself hung, drawn and quartered for a failed drunken assassination attempt on the king.”
Both he and Orm are mad, Nessa said with despair, completely and utterly mad.
At least you know that, if you were to meet an unfortunate demise, then they would try to avenge you with a delightfully foolhardy plan.
“Oi!” Orm bellowed, startling a few pigeons from the nearby trees. “Why the bloody bollocks are there bits of scrambled egg over here?”
∞∞∞
There was talk of going back into Arncraft with a slim hope of finding survivors, people who might be injured or trapped beneath the rubble. When Aoife flew over the smouldering ruins, they quickly realised that there was no point. No one could be trapped. There simply wasn't enough left of the buildings for that to happen. Hours of hungry fires had reduced homes and businesses alike to little more than piles of fuming ash, with a few blackened beams and the odd section of stone wall here and there.
Arncraft was nothing more than a dark stain on the earth.
I can scent nothing but death here, Aoife told Nessa and her companions from above Arncraft as they crossed through open meadowland, staying their course for Ellor.
Is there no chance of survivors? Nessa asked, watching Aoife’s glittering form swoop down low over the ruins, stirring up clouds of ash and smoke in her wake.
Anyone who’s escaped the razing has scattered to the four winds. They didn’t linger, and neither should you.
What makes you say that?
Something foul resides in the air, like that of a dark presence.
Could that be the thousands of unfortunate people who got roasted?
I fear not. There’s nothing left of those poor souls other than bone and dust. But look at this… Aoife shared an image through their bond, implanting it directly into Nessa’s mind. It was brief, little more than a flash, but it was just enough for Nessa to see the town from a different perspective, from Aoife’s perspective.
Viewed from above, Nessa could see something that wasn't obvious from the ground, something rather peculiar.
The way the fires had burned… The way the buildings had burned…
There had been more strategy behind how the town was set ablaze than simply herding people towards the Rider and his dragon. There had been another purpose behind the fires.
A very sinister purpose.
Nessa looked at the scorch marks through Aoife’s eyes, committing the patterns, the arcane shapes, to memory.
Is that a…pentagram…?
.
Chapter 19
Nessa ran a hand over the book’s metal front cover, her fingers brushing over the delicate ridges and dips. Aoife’s eyes were bright, focused on her face, watchful and ever so thoughtful. Nessa ignored the hum of Aoife’s mind pressing against her own, half-tempted to throw up her walls of amethyst for a moment of peace. She didn’t though, thinking that it would be a bit rude, especially after recent events.
Aoife was still displeased at being barred from Nessa’s mind when she’d come face to face with the Dark Rider and his monster of a dragon, when Nessa had witnessed King Kaenar and his infamous dragon, Spite, using a villainous type of magic.
Even now, a shiver ran down Nessa’s spine when she recalled how close she had been to him, the one who would kill her for simply being who and what she was. With savage clarity, she remembered the gleaming blackness of his eyes and how powerful his magic had been, syrupy and smothering, sinister and tainted. His strength was terrifying. Nessa couldn’t understand how Hunter and Orm thought she would someday be his rival. Surely only a god would be his match?
Nessa was positive that she was no god.
Nessa turned the book over to inspect the peculiar lock holding the covers firmly closed. She was careful with wher
e she put her fingers, not wanting to be pricked again. Nessa had enough cuts, scrapes and bruises as it was. She was unwilling to add another wound to her collection, even if it was a minuscule one.
It’s certainly a strange book, Aoife said, lowering her head, bringing it down beside Nessa’s for a closer look.
“I wonder why Chaos had it all wrapped up and hidden?”
Maybe he didn’t want nosy girls to go around stealing his stuff.
“I had only planned on borrowing it,” Nessa grumbled. “Borrow. Not steal. And it’s not like I can give it back to him, now, is it?”
Aoife snorted. You sounded so much like Hunter just then. It’s a little alarming.
“Well, I have apparently known him for years,” Nessa sighed as she tried to pry the metal covers apart, “so something must have soaked in, even if I can’t remember exactly what.”
Aoife fell silent, and it took a moment or two for her to find her voice. If you didn’t steal it, then why don’t you want Hunter or Orm to know about it?
Nessa set the book down on her lap with a sigh. The pewter glinted with a golden hue in the dwindling sunlight. “I’ve already explained it as best I can.”
Ah, yes, your delightful explanation of “it called to me”.
“It did,” Nessa argued. “It still does. Kind of.”
And how does a book, an inanimate object, call to someone?
“I don’t know,” Nessa confessed. “I suppose it’s nothing more than a sense that I was meant to find it. A feeling in here.” She tapped her chest, her heart. “I’m meant to discover something about it. Something that’s only meant for me.”
And me too, now.
“Well, I could hardly keep it a secret from you since you caught me trying to hide it.”
Indeed. That should teach you a lesson about stealing and trying to hide things from a dragon.
“You scared me half to death,” Nessa said. “I thought you were asleep. And it’s not stealing. I’m just borrowing it. Indefinitely.”
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