“It’s probably only a day or so to the coast by foot. And I believe the island is visible from the shore, so it’s probably only a couple of miles out.”
“We’re lacking a boat,” Warsgra said.
“And the Northern seas are filled with sea beasts,” Orergon joined in. “There’s no way we can swim it.”
Vehel pressed his lips together. “We can build a raft. My people are fishermen, and it won’t be the first I’ve built. As long as we can gather materials, we can build something strong enough to get us there safely.”
Warsgra lifted his eyebrows. “Assuming we don’t get eaten by sea monsters.”
“Yes, assuming we don’t get eaten by sea monsters.”
Dela looked up at the sky. They were losing light by the minute. “It’s too dark to continue now. We should find ourselves somewhere to rest and continue in the morning.”
A sting in her palm snatched her attention, and she looked down to find blood dripping from the ends of her fingers onto the hard ground.
Chapter 2
Vehel
“You’re hurt.”
Vehel caught up Dela’s hand, her palm small in his, like the inside of a shell. Blood seeped from the grazes and trickled down her fingers to drip off the ends.
“It’s fine,” she said, pulling back her hand. “Just a graze from when I fell.”
He held on firmly. “You have pieces of rock stuck in your skin. We need to get them out. You don’t want to end up with an infection.” He looked around in frustration. “By the Gods, we don’t even have any water to wash it out with.”
“Rivers lead to the ocean eventually, so we’ll most likely come across fresh water soon,” Orergon said. “If we’re to find the Seer’s island, we don’t have any choice but to keep walking west, since we have Drusga between here and the north. When we hit the coast, we can follow it north.”
They looked to one another in silent agreement.
Warsgra shrugged. “I don’t think we have any better ideas right now.”
“I still want to find the ponies, though,” Dela insisted.
Orergon nodded. “We will. They can’t have gone far. I expect they’ll have wanted to get off the fire mountain and find somewhere cooler. They’ll most likely have found grazing land.”
“We’ll keep going and find somewhere to bed down for the night,” Warsgra said. “We’ll figure the rest out in the morning.”
Vehel chewed on his lower lip. He remembered his promise to himself not to allow his fear to take over, and he wasn’t going to let Dela down again. An infection out here, with no medical help for hundreds of miles, could mean the loss of her hand, if not worse. Perhaps he was over-thinking things, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t do something. His ability had been weakened when he’d brought Orergon back, but, as time passed, he could feel it building again.
“Wait.”
He held his other hand above her palm and focused inward to find the energy that lived inside him. It was faint after using so much to save Orergon, but it was still there, trembling at his core. Mentally, he gathered the small amount he had and pushed outward, channeling the magic down through his arm. He felt it leaving his body, and he opened his eyes to discover a blue light joining Dela’s hand to his own. Inside the cuts on her skin, the small black stones shivered with borrowed energy and popped from the wound, bringing more blood with it to rinse them away. But he didn’t have it in him to heal the graze, and he was forced to release his hold on the magic.
He gave a grunt of frustration. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t heal you.”
She smiled at him. “Don’t be. It feels better already.”
“I should be able to heal such a small thing.” He was irritated with himself, but Dela stood on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you.”
A wave of warmth spread through him at her touch.
It was only something small, but Vehel had learned something about his magical ability. If he took on a task that required most of his energy, like saving Orergon, it depleted his supplies and made magic harder. He could almost feel the depletion inside him, in the opposite way he could feel the magic as it was growing stronger. When it was strong, it was like a ball of light swelling inside his chest, threatening to burst outward and explode him into a million pieces. But when he’d done too much, the same place felt like a chasm that might pull him in, piece by piece, and swallow him until there was nothing left.
Dela wasn’t the only one who needed to learn what they were capable of. His powers might be far less important, but he didn’t yet know the full extent of what he could achieve. After all, hadn’t he been the one who’d breached a tear in their reality and sent the four of them to a different place in Xantearos? He hadn’t done so intentionally—he’d only been trying to protect them from what lived inside the Long White Cloud—but it had happened. Perhaps it hadn’t all been him, and his magic had worked with whatever dark magic created the Long White Cloud, or even a different kind of magic that existed inside the Southern Pass. Or maybe it hadn’t been him at all, and it had simply been coincidence that he’d been creating magic at the same time the tear in reality had happened, but he doubted it. Somehow, his magic had sent them to the north, and if he’d done it once, he could do it again. They might not need to travel on foot for weeks on end to make it back to their homelands if he could work out what he’d done in the first place to get them here.
But if it went wrong, there was the chance he’d send them somewhere even more dangerous.
The side of the fire mountain wasn’t a place they would be able to stop for the night. They needed to get off its rocky face and back onto normal ground. Vehel glanced up at the rapidly darkening sky. It wasn’t safe for them to keep moving across treacherous grounds when they weren’t able to see where they were going. Memories of the black sludge they’d fought through remained fresh in his mind, and he didn’t want any of them to have to go through that again. His magic wasn’t strong enough yet to help anyone if they got into trouble.
As the final residues of light bled from the sky, the ground began to change, greenery sprouting in tiny patches at first, and then the spaces between them lessened, until they were eventually walking upon grass. The heat that had been seeping through the soles of their boots since stepping onto the fire mountain also subsided, though the night air continued to be thick and clammy. They hadn’t yet put enough distance between themselves and the fire mountain to escape the stink of sulfur, but either it had started to lessen or they’d simply grown used to it. A buzz of insects circled Vehel’s head. He hadn’t heard any while they’d been on the ridge. Was it the fire mountain that kept them away, or was it the proximity of the dragon? He doubted they’d find too many mammals or birds near this location either. The dragon must need to eat, and a creature of his size would consume a fair amount. What kind of distances must he travel in order to feed? Xantearos was a vast land, but the dragon clearly didn’t travel south to feed, even if he did fly down that way to observe them. His feeding territory must be in areas unpopulated by any of their races, or they would have heard of the creature’s existence long before now.
As they walked, a small copse of trees took shape ahead.
“That looks like as good a place as any to stop for the night,” Warsgra grunted.
Vehel agreed. It wasn’t much, and he was missing the comfort of the canvas and blankets the ponies had been carrying. But it was certainly a better option than the rocky side of the fire mountain they’d left behind.
They reached the trees. A thin blanket of fallen leaves and moss covered the ground beneath the canopy of branches. He looked around at the weary faces of his companions and knew they all felt the same way. Tomorrow, when they were rested and with the sun up for a new day, they’d be able to regroup their thoughts and make plans for what would happen next.
Orergon dropped to the ground first. Warsgra sat beside him, and Dela positioned hers
elf next to the Norc. Vehel was last to lie down, and he took the place beside Dela, sandwiching her between him and Warsgra.
Vehel reclined onto his back. Above his head, the stars winked on in the night sky, and Vehel could pick out the brightest peeping between the branches. His limbs were heavy with exhaustion, his eyes gritty with sleep.
Vehel couldn’t stop his thoughts turning towards his homeland. What was happening in the Inverlands right now? Had news of him breaking the Treaty reached them yet? Did his father know he was the cause of the Second Great War starting? Because of the long life spans of the Elvish, the memories of the First Great War were still within living memory of many of his kind. They, better than anyone, understood the true terror of war, how many lives would be lost, how brutally lives would be taken. And though Vehel knew there were far bigger things to worry about, he still couldn’t help the shame that made him feel as though his insides were shrinking.
His brothers had been sent to attend the Passover in previous years, and both had come back victorious, bringing gifts for the kingdom home with them, as well as achieving what they needed. Vehel had hoped to do the same, if not more. He’d wanted to use his own journey as an opportunity to prove to his father that he was worthy of his love, the same as his brothers, but instead he’d done the opposite. In his head, he imagined the Elvish court and how, when news got back, everyone would shake their heads and whispers would run riot, everyone saying how much of a mistake it had been to let Vehel represent them in the first place.
His brothers would probably take pleasure from the news. Not only had Vehel managed to make them look even better than they already were, he expected they rejoiced at the news of war. They were both too young, as was he, to remember the First Great War, but some men thrived during times like this, and he was certain his brothers would be those kinds of men.
If they had already heard the news, his father would be putting armies together, and Vehel knew his brothers would be at their heads. Did they all assume him dead? What would they think when they got word he was still alive? He doubted it would bring them any joy. Perhaps his mother would be pleased to hear he was still alive, but even she wouldn’t be allowed to show any outward happiness at his continuing existence. No, his father would see to that. She would be shamed if she showed any sign of joy at the news.
This night would be long, and Vehel knew he would spend most of it awake, gazing up at the stars and lost in thought. He doubted any of them would be getting much rest. They were sleeping on the hard ground with no shelter or comfort. The discomfort was further added to by the remains of the black sludge they’d been forced to wade through. It wasn’t as though they’d come across anyplace where they were able to clean off.
Orergon must have been feeling the worst. He was encrusted from head to toe with the black sludge, which had now hardened to a crust. The Moerian had managed to wipe the worst of it from his face, but it was crusted in his long black hair, and his leather clothes had hardened into a strange type of armor.
Warsgra and Dela weren't quite as bad off as Orergon, but they had both plunged arms and chests into the sludge to try to save him, and though their hair and faces only had a splatter of the goop, their clothing was thick and hard with it as well. At least Warsgra being bare-chested meant he was able to pick off the crust. Turned out it was far easier to clean bare skin than clothing.
“I’m hungry,” said Dela as they lay there, waiting for sleep to come.
“Aye.” Warsgra nodded. “Me, too. But an empty stomach for one night never killed anyone.”
“Sympathetic as always, Warsgra,” Orergon said, but there was a teasing note to his voice.
“Just pointing out the facts.”
Dela sighed. “Warsgra’s right. We should be happy to be alive. I shouldn’t moan about being a bit hungry.”
“Thirsty, too,” Oregon added.
She grinned at him ruefully. “That as well.”
“Now, that’s a lot easier to die from.” Warsgra cocked an eyebrow.
“You’re not helping,” Orergon said. “Anyway, we’ll find fresh water tomorrow, I’m sure of it. We’re heading in the direction of the coast. Let’s just try to get through tonight.”
Warsgra slipped his arm beneath Dela’s head, offering his chest as a pillow. Despite the kiss they’d shared, Vehel didn't mind the Norc’s proximity to Dela. All that mattered was that she was safe and comfortable. It didn't matter who gave her those things, as long as she was all right. And the more time they spent together, the more Vehel started to think she needed them all equally. And that was okay with him.
Chapter 3
Warsgra
The following morning, Warsgra woke to find his chin pressed against the red gold hair of the Dragonsayer. Her head rested on his chest, her small body curled up against his, her arm around his waist, one knee hooked over his thigh. Warsgra ducked his face and pressed his lips against her hair. A rush of protective emotion swelled inside him, and mentally he tried to pull himself back from it.
He wasn’t used to feeling anything for a female, especially not one he hadn’t even fucked yet. But even that word didn’t feel right when it came to her. He’d never had a problem letting women know exactly what he wanted in the past. If this had been a Norc woman in his arms right now, he’d most likely have already grabbed her hand and shoved it on to his rapidly hardening cock. But with Dela, he found himself angling his hips away so she didn’t notice his reaction to having her so physically close.
Other needs commanded Warsgra’s attention. His mouth was so dry his lips stuck to his teeth, and his tongue felt like a thick, furry insect in his mouth. The taste of the fire mountain coated the back of his throat, and he imagined the others would feel equally as bad when they woke. He needed water, but from where? They were still close to the fire mountain, but he hoped they’d find some in the next few hours.
The sun had almost fully risen now, and he was able to get a better look at their surroundings. Even this early in the morning, the sun held promise of another hot day. He missed the cool climes of his homeland of the Southern Trough. His kind was never meant to be this far north.
The other two men, as well as Dela, still slept, the sound of their soft snores filling the air. The ground Warsgra had slept upon was hard, and that, combined with the events of yesterday, had left his muscles stiff. Moving carefully, not wanting to disturb Dela, he edged his arm out from under her head and carefully lowered her to the ground. She moaned slightly in her sleep and shuffled around to get comfortable. When she didn’t find his body to cuddle into, she switched to her other side and found Vehel there instead. Still sleeping, the Elvish prince moved toward her as well, so they met each other in an unconscious embrace.
Warsgra got to his feet and took a couple of steps away from the trees to get a better view of their surroundings. It had been dark by the time they’d bedded down, and he hadn’t been able to assess their location properly. It was certainly far greener here. He hoped they’d soon come across something in the way of food as well as water.
He was relieved there were no signs of the dragon. Few things in this world made Warsgra nervous, but the dragon was definitely one of them. A beast like that could raze whole armies to the ground in a matter of minutes. There was no doubt in his mind that whoever controlled the dragon—or even dragons, if there proved to be more than one—would also be the one in control of Xantearos. The question was, whose side would Dela take? She was human, after all, and weren’t humans the enemy here? He didn’t think she would work against them, but what if her family back home was threatened? People always had a weak spot, an area that would be used against them, so what was Dela’s weakness? It occurred to him that they may be helping Dela to gain control of the dragon when there was a chance the day might come when she would use the creature against them.
He looked back to where she slumbered. No, she wouldn’t do that, he felt sure. They could trust her. She hadn’t understood what the Treaty
meant for them all, but now she did. She’d unite them, not drive them farther apart.
And yet, as he watched her sleeping face, he was filled with the strange certainty that he knew her somehow—knew her from before. Dela had told him this was the first time she’d ever left the city of Anthoinia, and it was a place he’d never been himself, so how was that possible? Maybe he’d dreamed of her, just as she’d dreamed of the dragon ...
Was such a thing even feasible?
Warsgra tore his gaze from her face and looked out in the direction where the ocean lay beyond the hills and trees. They had at least a day or two to travel before they reached the coast, and they needed to find food and water before then. The land ahead looked lush with trees and vegetation, and he felt sure they wouldn’t have any trouble finding what they needed. He hoped they’d also come across pools similar to the ones they found before reaching the fire mountain. The stink of the sulfur clung to his skin, as did the remnants of the goop they’d been forced to fight their way through. Warsgra wasn’t a vain man, and while journeying or fighting with neighboring clans, it would often be weeks before he thought about washing or a change of clothes, and yet he’d have given anything for clean clothes and a bath right about then. Was it simply that he was uncomfortable, or that now Dela was around, he was a little more conscious of how he looked and smelled?
With a Dragon's Heart Page 2
