by Megg Jensen
Once Brax was sure they were all asleep, he slithered out of his bedroll, stepping carefully between the sleeping soldiers and support crew until he arrived on the outskirts of the camp. He stopped, listening for any sound of alert. None came. Even the guards on the front of the camp, between the soldiers and the orc town, didn't notice him. He considered berating them for laziness, but checked himself. They weren't watching their own people. Their eyes and ears were trained on the orcs far away.
Brax slipped into the forest, feeling like he'd entered an entirely new world. The tree branches created a ceiling so low Brax had to stoop to enter. Bugs sang in the darkness, their song so loud he shivered at the thought of how many surrounded him. He stepped carefully through the undergrowth, looking for any sign of his brother. He had hoped entering the forest would bring Ghrol crashing through the branches.
But, no. Brax was alone. Ghrol was nowhere to be seen.
His heart heavy with everything he'd lost, Brax sat on a nearby stump. The trunk of the tree was on the ground next to him, its broken edges sticking out like spikes.
"Ghrol," he called out weakly, not wanting anyone at the camp to hear.
It was completely pointless. He knew it, but he couldn't help himself. He had to try. Ghrol was his brother. Despite everything, Brax loved him.
At the same time, he knew he needed to sleep. If not, he'd be useless on the battlefield the next morning. He couldn't allow any soldiers to die because he was tired.
Brax stood, taking a few more steps into the forest. An intense buzzing caught his ear. Brax moved closer to the sound, coming upon a deer torn limb from limb and the remains of a dead panther next to it.
Few animals could have killed both. Perhaps a bear, but as far as Brax knew, there weren't any bears in this part of the forest. A rare beam of moonlight cast through the canopy, illuminating the deadly scene. Brax looked closer, stunned to find a broken arrow through the heart of the deer.
This wasn't solely the work of a hunter. Orcs were strong, yes, but they were too civilized to rip animals apart in this fashion.
It had to be Ghrol.
But who was he with? Who used the arrows?
Brax hoped it was someone who would care for his brother while they were separated. With his heart a little lighter, Brax crept back into camp and settled into his bedroll again. He fell asleep, dreaming of his brother.
Chapter 29
Ademar sat on the floor of the cabin, his back against the wooden wall. Tace lay on the bed on the other side of the room, her back to him and the dragon curled up at the small of her back. Its head rested on its forearms, eyes alert.
Already it loved her and protected her. Ademar still felt uneasy around the creature, mainly because it seemed to eye him as if it didn't quite trust him around Tace. Ademar had seen dogs do the same with their owners, snarling at anyone who came close. As a child, Ademar had learned to be wary of those dogs, and he'd give this dragon the same wide berth.
Tace sat up, her eyes locked on Kindara. "What do we do now? Wait here for another sign?"
Kindara opened her mouth, then closed it. She tapped her chin. "I knew to bring you this far. But now..." Her words trailed off. Kindara shrugged, wandering out the door and letting it swing close behind her.
“That’s helpful,” Tace said, clearly frustrated.
Ademar wanted to say something to soothe Tace's worries, but he had no idea where to start.
"I'm sorry," Tace said, her words laced with regret.
That wasn't what he'd expected from her. His shock left him mute.
"I know this isn’t what you expected, assuming you expected anything, I guess. We ran from Agitar to save our own skins. I never believed, not for one moment, that I had some grand destiny outside the city. My only goal was to escape with my life." Tace's eyes closed. "I'm a coward. I'm everything I hate."
Ademar inched closer to Tace, one eye on the dragon. It now seemed more concerned with Tace's distress than with Ademar, so he was able to slide over to the floor next to her bed. "Don't be sorry. And a coward? You are the bravest orc I've ever met."
A smile tugged at the corner of Tace's mouth. "Your life with Hugh was sheltered. I doubt you've met many orcs to make a proper comparison. The battle orcs, for instance, are far braver than me. They fight their enemies face to face, while I skulk around in the night, killing orcs from behind."
"You do an unimaginable service to your god," Ademar insisted.
"What do you know of my god?" Tace asked.
"What do you think Hugh and I were studying in Agitar?" Ademar shifted into a more comfortable position, realizing he was about to have his first real conversation with Tace. "We came to the North to learn about your religion. We wanted to understand the orcs better, so that perhaps, one day, we could all live in harmony instead of suspicion."
"Why didn't you go to the Library of Filamir?" Tace sat up. The dragon crawled onto her lap. Her fingers absently stroked its scaly head.
"It's true, there is a lot of knowledge at the library," Ademar admitted. "But it doesn't compare to actually living among the orcs. Book learning is fine, but it's not the same as observing actions. Hugh's thirst for knowledge went deeper than most."
"And yours?" Tace asked. "Are you much the same?"
Ademar thought for a moment. His initial reaction was to say no. After all, Hugh was a living legend to him. Comparing himself to the man felt too lofty. Yet Ademar had often spent as many hours as Hugh poring over texts and observing the orcs as they went about their day, analyzing how they lived their religion.
The orcs worshiped a god who prized death, while Ademar's people worshiped a god who prized life. Once he'd entered the shadows of the orc religion, he was fascinated by the depth of their beliefs, particularly their views on achieving eternal life. In the dark of the night, while he should have been sleeping, he'd questioned his own beliefs, wondering if perhaps he preferred the orc religion to his own. He'd even spent one sleepless night pondering the orc god, Drothu, and whether he would accept Ademar into his arms after death.
But Ademar had never spoken of such things to Hugh, much less anyone else.
"I am a seeker," Ademar finally said. "I hunger for new ideas."
Tace smiled, fully and without reserve. "Then you must really be enjoying our little journey."
Ademar laughed so heartily his chest ached. He couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a moment to feel joy since Hugh's death, and he'd found it here in the middle of nowhere, in the company of an orc assassin and a dragon.
"So, where to next?" Ademar asked. "The voices told you to find them."
Tace shrugged. "How should I know? I wish they would have been more specific."
Ademar smiled again. He couldn't stop smiling, though none of this was amusing. Perhaps it was only the stress taking its toll, making him silly.
A knock at the door wiped smiles from both of their faces.
"Why would Kindara knock?" Ademar whispered to Tace.
"She wouldn't." Tace leaped out of bed, drawing her daggers with both hands. The dragon flew up and slinked around her neck.
Tace nodded to Ademar to open the door while she stood off to the side, in the shadows where the candlelight didn't reach.
Ademar opened the door slowly until he could see who, or what, stood outside. Then he flung the door open, reaching out just as the young female orc, barely more than a child, collapsed into his arms. Her dark hair cascaded over her face as she slumped into his embrace. He lifted her, carrying her to the bed Tace had vacated.
Ademar rested a hand on her forehead. It was warm, but not overly so, to his touch. No fever, then. "She appears to be exhausted. Dehydrated."
Tace sheathed her daggers and poured a cup of water, holding it out to Ademar.
He took it and gently rested it against the orc's lips. "Drink this."
She shook her head, pushing his hand away from the tangle of hair falling over her face.
"It's safe. I promise
you. You'll feel better if you do." Ademar dripped a few droplets onto her lips.
Her tongue darted out. She reached out with shaking hands for the cup, drawing a long gulp, between barely parted hair.
"Not too fast, or you'll make yourself sick," Ademar cautioned.
The orc ignored his warnings, drinking quickly until the cup was empty. Through the strands of hair covering her face, she looked at him with wide eyes.
Ademar blinked. There was something in those eyes, but he didn't know how to name it. All he knew was when he looked at her, he felt strangely calm.
"What's your name? Why are you here?" Tace barked behind him, the softness she'd shown earlier back under wraps.
The girl gazed at both of them, her eyes darting back and forth between the two. "I've been looking for you."
Tace pulled her daggers once more. The dragon hissed from her shoulder, its back arching. "Why?"
"I'm here to guide you," the girl said.
"Guide us where?" Ademar asked cautiously. If she was a spy for the Consecrated, guide was a strange word to use.
"To your destiny." As she sat up straighter, her hair fell to the sides, revealing a large pink mottled birthmark stretching across her entire face.
“What happened to your face?” Tace asked, blunt as always.
“Nothing. I was born this way.” The girl squared her shoulders. "If you must know. I am Nemia, the trueborn princess of Agitar. The other orc was an imposter, put on the throne to hide the truth about my disfigurement."
"The mark gives you a certain dignity," Ademar said.
The girl stuck her tongue out at him. "I have visions, too. Dark, disturbing visions of the future. I cannot calm them. I cannot send them away. They come unbidden, tormenting me. The only thing that has kept me from taking my own life and ending the pain is a vision I received recently. It led me directly to you." She reached out, taking Tace's hand.
The door swung open, and Kindara stumbled in, an arrow sticking out of her back and blood streaming from her lips. "Run, now, while you still can! The Consecrated have found us!"
Chapter 30
Tace reached out, catching Kindara before she fell to the floor. She cradled the old woman, using her cape to wipe the blood from her lips. "What happened?"
Kindara's eyes settled on Nemia. "She is the one we've been waiting for." She took one more rattling breath, then fell limp in Tace's arms. Tace yanked the arrow out of Kindara’s back, threw it on the floor, and then placed her body on the bed.
“I can’t believe this,” Tace said. “Why would anyone hurt Kindara?” Though she’d shed tears at her mother’s murder, Tace couldn’t muster them for Kindara. Years as an assassin had hardened her, but something rustled in the pit of her stomach, reminding her she did have feelings for the old orc.
"I think we should do as she says." Ademar looked at Nemia. "We need to get out of here before whoever killed Kindara comes after us."
Nemia stumbled as she made for the door. Ademar caught her, hoisting her onto his back. The girl didn't argue. She wrapped her skinny arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder.
Tace grabbed her pack, slinging it over her shoulder, careful not to hit the dragon, who'd taken up residence around her neck. Tace had already grown used to its presence. "Let's go."
"Where?" Ademar asked. "And how? We have no means of transportation. We don't know where to go."
"Go north," Nemia said weakly. "I saw it in my visions. We have to keep traveling north."
"Then we go north," Tace said to Ademar, putting on a confident face. He trusted her decision. Or maybe he, too, felt they had no other choice. Tace didn't have time to puzzle through the human's feelings.
Tace stormed out the door, glanced at the sun to orient herself, and took off in a run. Ademar kept pace behind her. For a human, he was strong. She hadn't known many humans personally, and none as well as Ademar, but she'd always been under the impression they were physically inferior. Ademar was quickly changing her views.
A rustling noise behind them grabbed her attention. Tace looked over her shoulder just in time to see a giant orc leap through the trees, wielding a bloody ax. "Ademar!" she yelled.
With surprising grace, Ademar feinted to the left, then the right, the orc missing him by a hair's breadth. Nemia looked up at the orc, screaming out a string of words Tace couldn't understand. It didn't sound like orcish. The orc dropped in midair, landing on the ground in a solid lump. Dead.
Nemia collapsed back on Ademar.
They ran as fast as they could, away from the dead orc, until Tace felt as if her heart would leap out of her throat. Slowing her pace, she waited for Ademar to pull up alongside her. He huffed, his chest straining with every breath. Nemia lay draped on his drooping shoulders. "I'm fine," he said, "keep going. What if there are more of them?"
"There aren't. They would have caught up to us by now. And you're not fine." Tace took Nemia in her arms, setting the fragile orc on a log. "You," she pointed at Ademar, "sit."
"I'm fine," he said again.
Tace crossed her arms over her chest. "We're not moving until you rest. I can't carry both of you, and if you collapse, I'm leaving you behind."
Ademar stood his ground for a few moments. Soon enough he gave up and sat next to Nemia.
"Good. I'm going to pull some water from that stream over there. Then we'll get started again. And this time, I'm carrying Nemia." Tace swiped Ademar's waterskin from his hand before he could protest.
At the stream's edge, Tace crouched. While their waterskins filled with water, she took a moment to breathe. The dragon slithered off her shoulder to the ground, taking a long drink from the stream. Its head snapped up, a fish between its teeth.
"Good job," Tace said, laughing. She patted it on its head. "I bet you have a name, and I'd like to know it."
The dragon ate the fish quickly, then sat back on its haunches, staring at her.
Tace released the second waterskin, letting it float in the stream. The dragon's deep black eyes were mesmerizing.
Raseri.
"Raseri?" Tace said aloud. The feminine name had appeared in her head.
The dragon ducked her head underwater for another fish. She emerged, then tossed the fish to Tace. Twice more, she did the same, leaving the fish at her feet.
"For us?" Tace asked, a little shocked.
The dragon climbed back onto her shoulders.
"Thank you, Raseri." The dragon snuggled into her neck.
"I can't believe I'm talking to an animal as if it can understand me. Still, Raseri is as good a name as any." Tace scooped up the fish in her arms, carrying the two waterskins between her fingers.
When she arrived back at the log, Nemia and Ademar were playing a game using hand signals. After three shakes of a fist, they'd make a gesture at each other and dissolve into laughter.
"I have fish. We can cook them quickly before heading on our way," Tace said. "Raseri caught them for us."
"Who?" Ademar asked, smiling at Nemia as he made another strange signal with his hand.
"The dragon," Tace said.
"You named the dragon? That's great!" Ademar said as he and Nemia played one more round of their strange game. He stood, wiping his hands on his pants. "I'll gather a little firewood."
Tace sat next to Nemia while Ademar built a fire. Nemia made the hand motions at Tace, but she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't know your game."
"It's easy to learn," Nemia said.
"Why don't we talk about what happened earlier?" Tace asked Nemia, trying not to recoil at the girl's strange face. A birthmark like that was unheard of, even feared.
"When I killed the orc?" Nemia asked.
"Yes."
"I killed him because he was trying to hurt us. I kill things sometimes." Nemia shrugged as if she'd said she enjoyed eggs for breakfast.
"Well, thank you for saving us," Tace said. "You won't kill us, right? You can control it?"
"Sort of."
&nb
sp; It wasn't the answer Tace wanted to hear. "Sort of?"
"If I want something to die, it dies. I recently learned I could do this. I promise, I don't want either of you dead. I want you both to stay alive, and I'll stop anything in our way to make sure of it." Nemia took a long drink from Ademar's waterskin. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
It was very unlike how a princess should behave. Tace wanted more details about this girl's strange life, exiled from the royal family. Tace might have grown up poor, but at least she knew her parents loved her.
A knot formed in her stomach as she recalled her mother’s body being carried through the town square. Dead. Her family all gone. No one was there for her now.
Pushing her feelings into the back of her mind, Tace checked on Ademar's progress. He had cleared the ground and stacked the dry branches. Ademar rested a stick on a rock, spinning it between his hands, trying to start a fire. Before he could get enough friction, Raseri trotted over, blowing flames on the sticks until they caught fire.
"Thanks, Raseri." Ademar reached out to pat Raseri on the head as Tace had done so many times, but the dragon would have none of it. She snapped at Ademar, nearly taking off the tip of his finger.
He laughed. "I guess we aren't close enough for that yet." Ademar winked at Tace.
Such a strange human. Always laughing about something, whether it was Nemia's game or getting rejected by a dragon.
"Come on," Ademar said, as he speared his fish on a stick. "That was funny. Even you have to laugh at that, Tace."
"Good dragon," Tace said to Raseri, goading Ademar. She wasn't laughing, but she did her best to play along. It would be good for her to enjoy a lighter mood. For the moment, they weren't in danger. It was a nice feeling.
Raseri resumed her place around Tace's neck. Tace and Nemia found sticks for their fish, roasting them over the fire.
“So, Nemia," Ademar said, "how far north do we need to go?"
Nemia looked from Ademar to Tace. "To the Frozen Wastelands."
"No." Tace finished her fish and tossed her stick into the fire. "We can't go there."
