Dela opened her mouth to protest, but there was no point. Nothing she said was ever going to make any difference. They’d had hundreds of years to grow their prejudices. Maybe they even had a point. Humans had taken half of Xantearos as their own, and divided the remainder up between the other races. They’d even taken the half that was fertile and easy to grow on, unlike the colder climes of the Inverlands and the scorched Vast Plains. None of the Western coast got much rain, unlike the Eastern coast, so they’d always known they’d struggle to grow a good harvest there, and so had control over food sources. The Treaty could have divided the lands from north to south rather than east to west, but they hadn’t, using the Great Dividing Range as the reason.
She gave her head a shake. “Arguing about the Treaty isn’t going to get us anywhere. We need to figure out how we’re going to get home.”
In a sudden surge of panic, she put her hand to her neck, terrified the string of leather she wore might have been pulled loose in the kerfuffle. But her brother’s ring was still there, safely tucked beneath her tunic. Then she reached down to where her dagger was normally wedged into her belt, but the space was empty.
“By the Gods!” she swore.
Of course, it had been in her hand when they’d been dragged through to this other place. She’d been prepared to use it on the demon that had been looking at her with murder in its red eyes right before Warsgra had hit the orb with his axe.
“What’s wrong?” Orergon asked her.
“I lost my dagger.”
Vehel’s bow and quiver of arrows had been strapped across his back when it had happened, and they were still there now.
Dela looked around, hoping she might spot the dagger somewhere nearby. A glint of silver in the sunlight caught her eye.
“Wait, what’s that?”
She hurried over, and bent to the item. It was the metal tip of a spear. Dirt had been blown over the weapon, partially hiding it, and she used her hand to uncover the handle, and then picked it up.
“That belongs to me.” Orergon walked over to claim it.
“So the rest of our weapons might be here somewhere as well.” She looked to Warsgra, who nodded, and started to kick his way through the sand and dirt, hunting for his axe. They had bigger things to worry about, but at least if they were all armed, they might feel a little safer.
Orergon and Vehel helped as well, even though they already had their weapons. The soil was a dusty red and flew up into the air, coating their skin as they searched.
“Ah-ha!” Vehel exclaimed, lifting Dela’s dagger.
A smile cracked across her face. It might only be a small thing, but, like her brother’s ring, it felt like a beacon of hope, and she was happy to have something of home on her person.
“Thank you,” she told the Elvish prince, taking the dagger from him. She squeezed the hilt tightly, before placing it back in her rope belt, and then tying the belt a little tighter to make sure she wasn’t going to lose it again.
He ducked his head to her. “Welcome.”
“There she is!” Warsgra growled. He pulled his massive axe out from the dirt and lifted the weapon above his head. The bright sunlight glinted off the shiny steel, then he brought the axe head to his lips and kissed it.
It was a small comfort, but at least now they were all armed. Of course, being armed hadn’t helped them in the Southern Pass, but Dela hoped they’d left the Long White Cloud and the demons within it far behind them.
What lay ahead, however, she couldn’t even bring herself to imagine.
Chapter 16
Orergon
Orergon wasn’t sure how he was going to explain to the others how far their journey was going to take them. The female human didn’t look anywhere near physically strong enough to make such a journey, though he’d been impressed with the fire in her eyes and the way she’d hit Warsgra. It took some guts to stand up to someone of his size and temperament. Warsgra was going to suffer with the temperatures up here, and Vehel had the largest distance of them all to travel. Orergon wasn’t even sure Vehel would be welcomed back in the Inverlands when he got there. From the things the Elvish prince had said, it sounded as though his own family were against him, though Orergon wasn’t sure why. Was it because they’d been aware of Vehel’s ability to do magic, and so had shunned him?
“We’re going to need to find horses,” he said. “There’s no possibility of us doing this on foot. Even on four legs, it’s still going to be challenging.”
Warsgra nodded. “We need to find food and water, too.” He turned to Vehel. “Any possibility of conjuring something up for us?”
Vehel shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. As you’ve already seen, the magic has more control of me than I have of it. Maybe if I’d been allowed to train and practice since childhood, as I should have been able to, things would be different, but the humans put an end to that.”
The woman threw her hands up in the air. “If you’re going to blame me for every single thing my ancestors did for the next however many weeks it takes us to get home, then I’m just going to do this on my own.” She stormed off, shaking her head, her long golden-red hair in a ponytail shimmering down her back.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Warsgra called after her.
“I have no idea, but this whole ‘humans are responsible for ruining everything’ talk is going to get old very fast.”
“But humans are resp—” Vehel started, but she spun back around and cut him off with a swipe of her hand.
“Maybe, but I was still more than a hundred years away from even being born, and while I appreciate that it all happened practically within your lifetime, for me it’s a very distant event.”
She turned away again and stomped off, picking her way down the stony hillside. Orergon stood with the other two males and watched her back as she put more and more distance between herself and them. He looked to one side at Warsgra, who shrugged his broad shoulders, and then to Vehel, whose lips twisted.
“Very well,” Vehel said with a sigh. “I’ll stop mentioning the human thing, even though it’s the truth.”
Orergon gestured to her retreating back. “She’s going to get herself killed if you don’t.”
“And we care because …?” Warsgra growled.
“Because we were the ones to get her into this,” Orergon replied. “Because like it or not, we’ve ended up in this situation together. Because if we don’t figure out a way to work together, we’ll all most likely end up dead. We’ve got hundreds of miles between us and the Vast Plains, and it won’t be an easy journey. If we’re going to make it back to our people, we need to work together.”
“And you think she has strengths we can use?” Warsgra nodded toward Dela’s retreating back. “The Norc females have more strength in their little fingers than she has in her entire body.”
Orergon jerked his chin toward her. “She’s brave. You saw her in the Southern Pass. She took charge when it was time to do the Passover. She wasn’t intimidated by any of us. And then when we were about to be swallowed by the cloud, she stood at our shoulders, ready to fight. Yes, she might be small, but she’s fierce, and she looked like she knew how to use that dagger.”
He’d known a woman with the same kind of fierceness before. Because of her small stature, she’d been underestimated, but she’d proven herself to be a strong and brave warrior. But all the bravery in the world hadn’t made her strong enough to fight the things that had killed her.
The thought of death made him think of those he’d lost in the Southern Pass as well, Aswor and Kolti. They’d been good men, and their families would grieve terribly when they heard the news of their passing. Their souls would be running with the wild horses on the Vast Plains now, assuming the demons weren’t able to drag them down to the underworld with them. It wasn’t something he wanted to consider, or even that he would mention to their families. He’d give them hope, and tell them they’d died bravely in battle, so when the famil
y members rode across the plains with the wind in their hair, they’d be able to feel their loved ones’ spirits running along beside them.
Orergon dragged his thoughts back to the present. The woman had already managed to put some distance between herself and them.
What other choice did they have but to follow her?
He exchanged a glance with the other two, who both wore the same, resigned expression he was sure was on his own face, and then shrugged and took after her. The sun beat down on their heads and shoulders. He was used to the heat and being out in direct sunlight, but both Warsgra, and especially Vehel, with his pale skin, hair, and eyes, would suffer if they were out in it too long. Up here, high on the rock ledge, there was no shelter, and they had no choice but to move. They’d be better traveling any long distances at night, and resting somewhere near food and running water during the day. Once they’d made it farther south, the temperatures would cool again, but that would still be weeks from now, and they would struggle before that happened.
His long strides meant he caught up with Dela quickly. Warsgra and Vehel were close behind. She didn’t even break her stride or glance in his direction, and though physically this young woman was the weakest of all of them, he had the strange feeling that she was the one leading them.
“So,” boomed Warsgra, “anyone actually know where we’re going?”
“South,” replied Dela from over her shoulder.
“And do we know what lies between here and south? Do we have villages we can head to so we can ask for their help? I’m a proud man, and not someone who asks for help easily, but I’d say our current situation probably needs it.”
“This far north isn’t owned by any of our kinds,” said Vehel. “The inhabitants may not take too kindly on a group such as ours descending on them.
Orergon nodded in agreement. “And it’s not as though we have anything valuable to trade in exchange for food or horses.” He looked around. “Do we?”
“We have our weapons.” Warsgra’s fist tightened around the handle of his axe. “But we’d be fools to give them up.”
“He’s right,” Vehel agreed. “We need our weapons more than anything.”
“There won’t be much need for weapons if we’ve died from heat stroke or starvation,” Orergon pointed out.
Warsgra frowned. “There must be something else we can trade first.”
Vehel placed his palm on the chest of his armor, right above his heart. “I can trade my armor. I may need it, but it will be worth it if we’re able to get a couple of horses in return.”
“Anything else? Jewelry?” He directed his question at Dela. “Don’t you have something around your neck?”
She whipped around, her hand at her throat, her brown eyes bright with anger. “No! You’re not having that. I don’t care if I have to starve to death, or if I have to walk until I rub holes in the bottoms of my feet. Nothing will make me part from this.”
“A simple no would have sufficed,” Warsgra muttered.
She glared at him. “No. No, no, no.”
He returned her stare. “I think we all understand you.”
“Good.”
She turned back around and kept walking.
“How many hours do you think we have left before it gets dark?” Vehel asked. “We should probably try to find somewhere to shelter before then?”
Warsgra gestured around them. “Shelter? Shelter under what?”
Orergon realized the Norc was right. The short distance they’d already walked had brought them to a lower altitude, but it still seemed there were mainly grassy flats and stony outcroppings. A few hills like the one they just navigated down, which he assumed would also hold similar flat stones jutting out of the sides. They could try to fit under one of the flat rocks for shade, but that didn’t solve the problem of them not having any food or water. Food, they could manage without for a few days, but they wouldn’t last long without a water source.
Keeping the sun over their right shoulders to ensure they were staying on the same path, they kept going. Warsgra muttered under his breath the whole way, while Vehel appeared lost in thought. Orergon noticed Dela had lost a little ground from her earlier lead, and he hoped she wasn’t struggling too much. He didn’t know much about her kind, but he knew she wasn’t made to cover huge distances with the sun burning down on her, which was what was happening now.
Orergon increased his stride and caught up with her. “I wish I had some water to offer you.”
He was expecting a sharp remark in return, but instead she sighed. “I wish you did, too. I don’t think I’ve ever been so thirsty.”
“We’ll reach a river soon, I’m sure of it.”
She glanced to one side, looking into his face. “You are? What makes you so sure?”
“We’re at lower ground now, and besides, I’ve seen something.”
Immediately, her back straightened and her head twisted from side to side, hoping to spot what he’d seen. “What? Where?”
He lifted his hand and pointed into the distance where a few specs of black dotted the otherwise unbroken blue of the sky. “Do you see those birds?”
She shot him a confused look but nodded. “Yes.”
“They’re grain feeders, meaning they don’t get any kind of moisture from their foods, so they never stray too far from a water source. If they’re over there, then we can be sure water will be close by, too.”
Vehel had overheard them. “Is that true?”
Orergon nodded. “Of course.” He couldn’t imagine why the Elvish prince would think he’d tell her an untruth.
“So, that’s good news,” Vehel said.
Orergon hoped he was right. He knew the lands—it was what he’d grown up with, after all—but this was farther north than he’d ever been, and the truth was that he didn’t know exactly what they were going to come up against. None of them did.
“Let’s just keep going in that direction. Follow the birds. They’ll lead us to water.”
“That’s good,” Warsgra growled, “’Cause I’m about an hour away from drinkin’ my own piss.”
Dela glanced over at him, her nose wrinkled. “You wouldn’t actually do that, would you?”
“If it meant life over death? Aye, of course, I would.”
She shuddered.
“It won’t come to that.” Orergon shot Warsgra a glare. There was no need to make a bad situation even worse. He didn’t know why he wanted to protect the human woman, but he found he did. Was it just because she reminded him of someone he’d lost? He wondered about the ring around her neck, too. She’d had such a vehement reaction when they’d asked about using it for barter. It clearly meant a lot to her. Did it belong to someone at home? A lover or a husband? Had they given it to her as a keepsake for her to remember them by while she was away? Was that same person now grieving at home, believing her dead? It was none of his business, yet he found his thoughts turning the possibility over and over.
Above their heads, the sun thankfully began to lose some of its strength, and the light took on a softer glow. Each of them had slowed their pace, but though the cooler temperatures made traveling easier, night would also bring its fears.
Shapes in the distance began to take on form. “What’s that?”
He narrowed his eyes, trying to bring them into focus. “Trees.”
Warsgra increased his pace, stomping on ahead of them. “Trees might mean water.” His long legs took him ahead within a few strides.
He exchanged a glance with Dela.
“Is that right?” she asked.
He nodded. “I hope so.”
She looked back at Vehel. “Any time that magic of yours feels like it’s coming back, just say so. Something to get us there faster would be appreciated right now.”
The corners of Vehel’s lips twitched. His cheeks had grown pink under his pale complexion, and beads of sweat had formed at the hairline of his brow. He still wore a layer of armor, and even though it was made from E
lvish steel and was the lightest metal known to their lands, it must have been stiflingly hot under there.
“Believe me, if I had any way of conjuring such a thing, I would have done so several hours ago.”
She sighed. “Shame. Guess we’ll have to keep on walking, then, though I hope I don’t have to take another single step once this is all over.”
“I can carry you.”
The offer from the Elvish prince made both Orergon and Dela lift their eyebrows in surprise.
“I’m stronger than I look,” Vehel added hastily. “All Elvish are.”
Was Orergon right in thinking the pink to his cheeks had suddenly deepened?
Chapter 17
Dela
Dela’s mouth dropped at Vehel’s offer. She hadn’t been expecting that.
“Umm, no, I’m okay, thanks.”
“Of course.”
He kept walking, picking up his pace as though to try to catch up with Warsgra. Carry her? Was that some kind of Elvish custom she wasn’t aware of? Admittedly, she didn’t know much about their kind—only what history and gossip had taught her. She knew they lived to be far older than humans, some of them as much as three hundred years old. She wondered how old Vehel was. He looked to be in his mid-twenties in human years, but in Elvish years, was he considered young or older?
She was using the thoughts of him to distract her from the way her tongue felt fat and fuzzy against the roof of her mouth, and her teeth kept sticking to her lips. Her spit was so thick, she struggled to swallow, and even her eyes were scratchy every time she blinked. Sweat had dried at her hairline and across her eyebrows, so when she ran her fingers across her skin, salt came away on her hands.
But as they walked, the silhouette they’d seen on the horizon began to take shape. Two hills appeared on either side, so they looked to be walking into a valley. Beneath their feet, the ground began to turn greener, and they had to navigate small clumps of bushes. It wasn’t much yet, but she stayed focused on that copse of trees, and, as they covered more ground, the copse grew larger. It wasn’t only one or two trees, but several, and the trees looked as though they stretched onward, too. The trees didn’t just offer the chance of water being nearby; they would also give them some much needed shade.
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