SpringFire (5 page)

She paused just inside and glanced back at me with a scowl. “To relieve myself, of course.” And she carried on outside.

I came to a stop as Grey dashed up to my side.

“What’s going on?” he demanded.

I gulped. Now I’d have to admit what I’d done. “Xyla told me to untie her,” I said in a quiet voice, not wanting to say the words at all.

“What?” Grey’s shout echoed around the cave. He took my upper arms in a painful grip. “Are you mad? How could you let that viper go free?”

I cringed before his wrath. I hated it when anyone was angry at me, and this was worse than ever. I didn’t even try to get away from him.

“I just did what Xyla told me to do,” I said as tears rose to my eyes.

He gave me a disgusted look that made me want to crawl into a hole in the ground. But before he could start shouting again, Traz walked up holding Shandry’s knife. “At least she doesn’t have this,” he said.

Grey let go of me, almost as if he were throwing me away, and took the knife from Traz.

“I’ll be having that back,” Shandry said, walking back in at that moment.

“No, you won’t,” Grey growled, glaring at her and holding the knife in such a way that she couldn’t try to take it from him.

Xyla let out a snort that froze us all. “Enough!” her voice bellowed in my head. In Grey’s and Shandry’s, too, to judge by the startled expressions on their faces. “Shandry will lead you to Delaron, where you will find aid for me. Grey will stay behind to hunt for me. You will trust one another as I trust you. And you will stop disturbing me with this pointless agitation.”

She hadn’t said anything aloud, but, as if the outburst used up the last of her reserves, a stunned silence fell in the cave.

Traz broke it. “What? What did she say?”

Grey’s only answer was to grab Shandry’s upper arm and guide her back inside to the fire. Traz and I followed, me wiping the tears from my cheeks and hoping Traz didn’t notice.

I hated it that Grey had shouted at me that way. It just reinforced the difference in our ages, that he thought he could treat me like a child. And it made me actually feel like a child, too. In my misery, I almost missed the half-smile Shandry gave Grey as she glanced at his hand on her arm and then at his face.

We all sat around the fire, Grey fiddling casually with Shandry’s knife.

She was the first to speak, and honey practically dripped from her tone. “Shall we start over again? I’m Shandry. You all are?”

Grey pointed the tip of the knife at each of us as he spoke our names.

“And you’re here because?” Shandry asked as if she were a hostess at a tea party.

“I’ll ask the questions, if you don’t mind,” Grey snapped.

Shandry gave him a sweet smile and lifted her hand in agreement.

Grey’s face relaxed ever so slightly, but the rest of his body was as alert as a hunting cat’s. I just sat quietly, listening to the conversation but not taking part, not wanting to draw Grey’s attention back to me.

“Who exactly are you?” Grey asked.

I expected Shandry to give him a sarcastic answer, but Xyla’s commands seemed to have put her into a different frame of mind. “I’m not anyone, really,” she said, “just a simple peasant living alone in my cottage nearby.”

Grey raised the knife. “Not so simple, I imagine. But carry on.”

“There isn’t much to say. I do live quite alone, whether you wish to believe me or not.”

“Then why did you come here? I can hardly believe you’d just gone out for an evening walk in the woods.”

“No, I was seeking out the source of the disruption in the forest’s life force.”

I looked at her closely. It must have been her. Who else could it be? Why had she sought me out? The voice had said something about craving my power. I huddled deeper into my cloak and thoughts, closing myself off to her.

As if reading my mind, Grey asked, “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

Shandry’s eyes blazed as if she were beginning to lose patience. “Look, the dragon is satisfied with my being here. Surely you don’t think I fancy doing what she asked, leading a bunch of strangers on a journey across the mountains at this time of year, do you? And since I’m the one being inconvenienced, I think I have a right to know some things about who you are and why you’re here, too.”

Before Grey could reply, Traz said, “She’s right, you know. It’s only fair.”

I shook my head, though no one noticed. I didn’t want her to know anything about us. Grey summed up our story, telling Shandry more than I would’ve liked but less than he could have.

When he was done, Shandry, speaking in a soft and quiet voice, said, “You’re not from here. I didn’t understand when Xyla first told me, but I see it now. You’re not from here at all. You’re from there.”

Dragons were not always here. For many long ages, there were none such as these.

Serpents, yes. And lizards, and other creepy-crawly things. Birds aloft on wing. And all other beasts needful to populate the world.

And then came the dragons.

One moment, they were not. Next moment, they were.

None knew whence they came.

None knew how.

None knew why.

None knew the place they would take in our world. Or if they would ever leave us and return to their home.

~from the teachings of Gedden, lore master

Unable to stand it any longer, I shouted, “Here? There? Where?” The sound echoed around the cave, startling Traz and Grey.

Shandry shot me an indecipherable look, one that made my skin crawl. Then her eyes took on a dreamy cast, and after a long pause, she began to speak in a sing-song sort of voice.

“Many, many long years ago, an age ago, the red dragons came to us. Civil war had broken out in their home, and to escape destruction, they came here, to Stychs.” My heart skipped a beat, then started up in double-time. “At first, they were seen as interlopers, a threat to the perfect balance that had long been sought and only recently found. Although they could breathe fire, they chose not to use it against the peoples and creatures of this world. They went to Delaron to dwell there in the desert with the sages until such time as they could return to their own world. And they did not disrupt the perfect balance. In the end, they contributed their own knowledge and wisdom, so that eventually, the sages realized that they were an integral part of the balance. Now they are revered. And so it has been from then until now.” At this point, she shook her head a little, and her voice lost that recitation quality. “But it has always been said that one day, the dragons would return to their own world. When they were summoned back by one of their own.” She turned and looked at Xyla.

I stared first at Shandry, then at Xyla. “How,” I started, and it came out as a squeak. I tried again. “How could Xyla … bring us to another world?”

“That I cannot say. You will have to ask the sages.”

“The who?”

Shandry sighed. “The sages. At Delaron. Where Xyla has told me to take you. The red dragons live there.”

Grey cut in. “All right. It’s clear that Xyla wants the three of you to go. How long is this journey?”

“I’d guess about two weeks this time of year. Maybe longer if the weather doesn’t cooperate. It’s not like there will be caravans going over the pass this early in the season, so we won’t be able to hitch a ride.”

“Two weeks?” I exclaimed. “Isn’t there a faster way?

Shandry shrugged. “As far as I can tell, we can’t exactly fly.”

My heart sank. Despite her sarcasm, she was right. Which meant another journey. On foot. With someone I didn’t trust. I looked over at Xyla who hadn’t moved.

Grey rubbed his eyes. “Let’s pick this up again tomorrow. Donavah, why don’t you finish your watch.” He might as well have said something about botching my first one; the message was loud and clear in the tone of his voice. “Then the usual rotation.”

Before long, everyone but me was sound asleep. I stared at the fire, trying to make sense of everything that had happened in this long, confusing day.

The peacefulness of sleep settled through the cave, and I had a hard time keeping my eyes open. The flames danced before me, snapping and popping in a syncopated rhythm. They seemed to drain my worries and anxieties, leaving me feeling calm and open. I struggled to stay awake.

The outline of a face appeared in the fire. It started as a vaguely head-shaped outline, but soon the features grew clear. My heart skipped when I recognized Anazian, the traitor mage.

His words filled my mind. “The game board is set. It’s your move.”

As always in the dream, I didn’t reply.

Then his rollicking poured through me. “Perhaps you should give up and go home. Yes, that would be a plan. Home, where all is not as you left it.” The laughter turned brittle. “Go to your mama and papa, where you are truly needed. If it’s not too late.” His evil chortle filled my mind, my ears, the cave, the whole world. And then it faded away. The last thing I heard was, “Your move.”

Home. I must go home to Mama and Papa. I rose to my feet and went outside. There was no discernable path, so I pushed my way through the trees. Branches caught at my clothes and snagged them. Twigs scratched my face. But I kept on.

Which way was Barrowfield? I looked up to try to see the stars, but the trees were too thick overhead. I couldn’t even see the moon. Or perhaps it hadn’t risen yet, or had already set.

Panic set in. What had Anazian done to my family? And why? I moved faster, the need to get home pressing on me like an unbearable weight.

Fear darkened my vision, and it became harder and harder to move forward. Once, I struck my head on an overhanging branch. I stubbed my toes on rocks, biting back yelps of pain so that Anazian wouldn’t be able to find me.

The trees themselves seemed to be working against me, impeding my progress. I tried to summon my maejic so I could command them to assist me, but it was gone. Anazian had taken my maejic. Again.

Tears streamed down my face, making it even harder to see. But I couldn’t stop my feet from running.

Both my heart and my body grew cold, and I no longer felt the pain of crashing into things. Faster and faster I moved, until a large object tripped me up and I fell in a heap, striking my head on something hard.

Someone was shaking me. “Donavah. Wake up. C’mon, wake up.”

I opened my eyes to find myself lying in mud next to a fallen log. I was so cold I could hardly move.

The someone shook me again. I struggled to sit up, and strong arms helped, then began wrapping me in a cloak—my cloak.

“Are you all right?” And now I recognized Shandry’s voice.

I peered at her, to find her looking at me with a concerned expression.

“Are you all right?” she repeated.

My teeth chattered so I could hardly speak. “I … I think so. What hap … hap … happened?”

“Let’s get you moving first. Can you stand?”

Barely. I certainly couldn’t have without her help. We started walking slowly, carefully, back to the cave. I leaned against Shandry, and she kept an arm around my shoulders, guiding me along the way and using her free hand to push branches aside.

“I couldn’t sleep and decided to try to find some water to drink, and I found you dozing next to the fire.”

I groaned. I’d fallen asleep on watch. Even in my confused and half-frozen state, my heart sank.

“When you got up and went out without putting on anything warm, I thought you must be walking in your sleep. And you were moving fast. I grabbed your cloak and followed, but I lost you when you started running. Lucky for you it didn’t take me long to find you once you fell.”

“Grey will kill me when he finds out I fell asleep on watch.”

“Then we won’t tell him.”

My ability to think seemed to be thawing. “Why are you helping me?”

“I couldn’t just let you die. You would’ve, you know, on a night like this with nothing to keep you warm.”

“A few hours ago, I bet you wouldn’t have minded letting me die.”

After a short pause, Shandry said, “Not strictly true. I might not mind letting Grey die. But I don’t have anything against you. Watch your step there.” She steered me around a small boulder.

“Grey’s not so bad,” I replied.

“Hmm. Maybe not,” she said in a suggestive tone that I didn’t like one bit.

Back in the cave, I sat near the fire while Shandry heated some water. I drank it without bothering to make it into tea. Then I got a rag from my pack and used the rest of the warm water to clean the mud from my face and hands, and as much from my clothes as I could. It wouldn’t do for Grey to notice it and ask. When I felt recovered enough, I woke Traz up and lay down to sleep until my next watch.

In the morning, both Shandry and Grey moved slowly and stiffly, as if they were in pain, though neither of them would admit it. Shandry was true to her word, not saying anything to Grey or Traz about my lapse the night before. We were all hungry, which didn’t improve our irritated tempers. Still, we had to start planning this journey Xyla had set us to.

Grey, bruises purpling on his face from the previous night’s fight, took charge. “There are two main things,” he said. “The route to get to Delaron, and supplies for the road.”

“As far as the route,” Shandry said, “I know the way. There’s a road not far from here that goes over the mountain pass and down to the desert. Delaron is a little less than two weeks journey by foot into the desert.”

Grey gave a curt nod. “Which leads directly to the question of supplies. We,” his finger sketched a little circle in the air indicating himself, Traz, and me, “don’t have anything.”

“Again, not a problem,” Shandry said, giving Grey a flirtatious smile that set my teeth on edge. “I have supplies at my cottage. And a pony we can use to carry the baggage. Speaking of which, I need to get back soon to feed him.”

“So it’s just as simple as that?” Grey asked, his tone heavy with suspicion. “Last night you try to kill me, and this morning you’re willing to leave everything behind to help us?”

Shandry’s shoulders drooped a little, and she looked down at her hands. “Well, you know, it’s a chance to get away, do something different.”

I opened my mouth to ask what she meant, but Grey made a motion with his hand and I remained silent. In a low, neutral voice, he asked the question himself.

When she raised her head, the expression on her face was bleak. “Do you know what it’s like to be alone—truly alone? To never have anyone to talk to, to do things with? Because that’s what my life is. Looking after myself, a pony, and a bit of garden. Seeing other people twice a year when I stock up on supplies, and them not wanting to talk to me beyond setting the price of goods. Have you ever been just plain tired of your own company?”

I felt the anger go out of Grey at these words. “Yes,” he said softly, and I knew it to be true. “Actually, I do know.”