"Rib?"
Rib stirred on the stablehouse floor where he had fallen asleep, sheltered by the ongoing rain. Somewhere behind him, a horse whinnied in its stall. He opened his eyes to see Damara standing in the doorway, soaked with a flask in her hands.
"Damara!" he said and stood to meet her. His body was feeling better rested now, though the soreness was still very much present.
The young woman didn't meet his gaze. "I'm sorry I left you. We'd have drowned if you hadn't flown us here. Thank you for that."
Rib didn't reply, but was grateful for her words. Peering through his inner eyelids, he saw that the flask in her hands contained a sort of magic he'd never seen before.
"Is that the cure?" he asked.
Damara bit her lip and nodded. "Do you think you could give me one more ride? I understand if you're too tired from the other night?"
"I'd be happy to," Rib answered.
It's time you get home and heal your brother's wife.
Damara gave him a small smile, but a look of worry hid behind her eyes. Rib wondered if they were watery from the rain or tears.
"I live in Rookton," she said, not bothering with the saddle on the wall before hoisting herself up onto him. "It's somewhat near the castle. I'll direct you there."
Bareback, just like when I first gave her a ride, he thought, exiting the stablehouse and taking flight once more. So much has happened since then.
Rib mulled over all they'd gone through together over the past seasons. So many plans they'd made to replace the failed ones. Schemes and proposals gone awry. Now they were finally back and Rib didn't know how to feel.
He supposed if they both got what they'd been working for in the end, it'd be alright.
Damara guided him into lower Wystil over wet towns and villages full of weary-looking people that didn't seem to see them flying in the rain overhead. Not a muffle moth could be seen in the crops below or anywhere else, just as Tyrone had told him earlier. The insects themselves were gone, but the number of people they left plagued was serious.
Soon Damon will have them all cured.
Rib descended on a small town by a forest of yellow and red. Landing on the outskirts, he watched Damara dismount and step before a house, flask in hand. She stood slightly trembling, staring at the building exquisitely detailed around the borders with moulded designs. The windows were dark. There was no light inside.
Instead of entering, Damara's fingers tightened over the flask and with a faltering voice, she called, "Xander?"
Is anyone there?
A clattering came from within, followed by staggering footsteps towards the door, which opened. There appeared a man somewhat older than Damara, dark brown hair disheveled, eyes staring back at the young woman as though she were a ghost. He took no notice of Rib, but lurched forward to embrace her tight.
"Damara, thank God!" he sobbed into her shoulder. His hands gripped the young woman so firmly, it was like he was afraid she'd disappear in his arms. "I thought I lost you both?"
Both.
The word set in Rib's mind like a heavy stone.
No. It can't be?
Damara's narrow frame was still a moment, then she dropped the cure to the puddled ground and let out a strained, wavering note. Xander was the only one left holding her up as her knees gave way beneath her.
"Cath," Damara cried. "I'm too late. I've failed!"
Failed.
This is what she set out for?
And she's failed.
Rib turned away. He couldn't watch any longer. The despair in her voice, the sight of brother and sister weeping in one another's clutch?It was unbearable.
How can so much work and devotion be in vain?
Her one ambition gone to dust?
Without a glance back, he took flight and left them to their grieving, thinking of nothing else now but his own ambition.
Memory. I have to see her.
I won't let her be my failure.
. . .
Where is she?
Rib crouched on the banks of the Swaine, mostly hidden by the grassy slope which he peered from at the Huskhn camp close by. Through the rain, he saw the broken, black buildings of the ghost town and warriors moving about between them, but not Memory. Not even Zheal could be seen.
With heart pounding, Rib slunk along the river for a better view point.
She must be here.
I can't lose her.
Growing ever more anxious, he crept up the bank towards the town, where a half-crumbled house would conceal him as he got a closer look. His feet pressed into the sodden ground, leaving clear prints, but Rib didn't care. He just wanted to be sure his sister was alright.
"Rib?"
Nearly jumping out of his scales, the dragon wheeled around to see Zheal suddenly behind him on Memory. With ashen face, the Huskhn dismounted and gaped at him.
"What are you doing here?" Zheal breathed, almost to himself.
Memory looked delighted to see Rib, bounding forward to skip around him in the puddles. But his relief to see her was shrouded by the dread of being caught.
What have I done?!
Zheal came closer and stared up at Rib, eyes widened in undeniable fear.
"Where's Damara?"
Chapter 30
Dragon Fool Page 31