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  “Good, then we have time on our hands.”

  He pulled her close, squeezing a little too hard and earning a breathy yelp that turned into a smile. Lorik turned to Spector.

  “Make sure the castle is secure,” he ordered.

  “And if I find resistance?” the wraith hissed.

  “Kill them,” Lorik said, looking back down at Kierian. “Kill them all.”

  Chapter 8

  The flight from Orrock to Felson took less than a day, but Zollin was glad to have a little extra time. Ferno stayed out of sight and landed a few miles from town. Zollin walked the rest of the way, taking advantage of the exercise to stretch his legs and back. Riding Ferno was surprisingly easy. The green dragon’s back was so broad that Zollin could easily stretch out whenever he needed to. But he still grew stiff after hours of lying still on the strong back of the dragon.

  Ferno was not a playful creature, and although dragons could communicate quite well, Ferno was not talkative. The dragon and wizard shared a comfortable silence during most of their travels. Both enjoyed the changes of scenery as they passed through Yelsia. The great Peddingar Forest gave way to gently rolling hills and wide fields. From the air the land through the middle part of the kingdom looked like a checkerboard in shades of green.

  Unlike Zollin, Ferno needed only a few hours of sleep per night and could go for several days without rest if need be. But while Zollin could sustain himself on meager rations, Ferno needed large amounts of fresh meat to stay strong. So while Zollin hiked into Felson, Ferno went hunting. The massive dragon could see prey from miles away, so it didn’t take long before Ferno spotted a large stag. The dragon could have feasted on the livestock of a dozen farms that were much closer to Felson, but instead it went in search of wild game. Ferno caught sight of the stag just before sunset, and the dragon raced forward, hoping to catch the large deer by surprise.

  Unfortunately, the stag spotted the huge dragon and ran into a thicket of trees. Ferno followed, flying close to the trees, its massive wings beating hard to carry the dragon forward as fast as possible. Even in the dwindling light, Ferno could see the stag as it raced through the trees. An open field lay at the far end of the wooded area, which was large by most standards, but not large or dense enough for the stag to lose the apex predator that pursued it. Ferno felt a thrill as it realized that, once the deer left the cover of the trees, the great dragon could swoop down and take its prey on the run. But the stag turned at the last minute, choosing instead to force its way into a thicket of brambles and close-growing trees.

  Ferno smelled the blood of the stag as the branches and thorns scratched and clawed at the deer’s hide. The stag’s antlers rattled against the wood of the trees, and Ferno was forced to circle in the air above the thicket, waiting to see what the stag would do. Several minutes passed, and Ferno’s stomach rumbled in anticipation. Night fell, and Ferno decided to try a different tactic. It could have incinerated the thicket and then eaten the roasted flesh of the stag at its leisure, but Ferno enjoyed the hunt. The massive dragon moved upwind and landed among the trees.

  Unlike most of the other dragons who had more supple bodies, Ferno was a hulking beast. Slinking through the forest was not possible, but Ferno was smart. The dragon guessed that the stag wouldn’t risk moving out into the open. As night set in, the stag would try to double back, and Ferno would be waiting. An hour passed, then another. Ferno’s keen eyes saw well at night, but it couldn’t see through the woods and had to rely on its keen sense of smell and hearing.

  A twig snapped not far away, and the smell of the deer’s blood grew stronger. The stag was playing right into his trap. The deer was moving slowly, carefully, trying its best to see in the darkness. Ferno’s green skin could easily blend into the forest, but at night it was nothing but another shadow in the darkness. As long as the dragon remained completely still, the deer couldn’t see it. The stag drew closer and closer; Ferno’s muscles tensed, ready to pounce.

  Then a sound not far away made the stag turn and bolt in the opposite direction. Ferno took to the air, flying just above the tree tops. This time the stag’s fear drove it out into the open, running as fast as it could. The deer was fast, but the dragon was faster. Ferno swooped down, snatching the stag in its massive talons and snapping the deer’s back so quickly the animal died before it knew it was caught.

  Ferno looped in the air, then landed quietly. It held the deer in one paw but didn’t eat its catch immediately. Instead, it watched the forest intently for whatever had made the sound that frightened the deer. After a few moments, it saw a small group of men come walking out of the trees. They were clumsy and loud. At first Ferno meant to ignore them. The dragon didn’t care for humans it didn’t know and usually tried to avoid them when possible, but Ferno wasn’t frightened of the humans either.

  The humans made their way across the clearing, oblivious to the huge dragon and its fresh kill just a few hundred yards away. Ferno was just about to turn its attention back on the stag, when something sweet and enticing wafted through the air. It wasn’t the humans themselves, which had their own strange yet familiar scents. Ferno had smelled humans many times—sometimes in small groups, at other times whole armies. But this time something was different. The men had something that Ferno wanted, even though the dragon didn’t know why it wanted it.

  Ferno left the stag lying on the ground, the dragon’s hunger completely forgotten. It moved silently across the field, staying on the ground and moving closer to the humans. They carried something that Ferno suddenly found tantalizing, something the dragon wanted desperately. Without giving its actions much thought, the dragon roared loudly.

  The humans froze, suddenly terrified. Ferno growled, letting flames billow up around its head. The men—there were six of them—shouted and turned to run the opposite direction. Ferno jumped into the air. With only a few flaps of its wings, it managed to race to the far side of the group of men. It landed, the massive feet tearing into the turf as it skidded to a halt. Ferno roared again, and this time the men huddled together, drawing crude weapons in a feeble attempt to protect themselves.

  “Leave everything,” Ferno hissed. “Leave everything and run.”

  Speaking wasn’t easy for the massive dragon. Its mouth, tongue, and vocal cords weren’t made for human speech, but Ferno had learned to say words, even though they were sometimes garbled.

  The men understood Ferno well enough. Two of them threw down their weapons and fled. The other four stayed together. One was talking in a low voice, but Ferno could hear him.

  “I ain’t giving up this gold,” the man said. “I don’t care what kind of creature that is.”

  The men were shaking, and Ferno sent a plume of fire billowing over their heads.

  “Leave everything!” Ferno commanded.

  “Come on, Darry, that loot ain’t worth dyin’ for,” said one of the men.

  “I won’t leave it,” said the first.

  “Well, you’re on your own.”

  Three of the men dropped their weapons and ran. Ferno knew that whatever was so tempting to the dragon was still with the last man. Ferno moved closer. It could smell the fear and sweat wafting off the man named Darry. Ferno didn’t want to kill the man, but it simply couldn’t resist whatever the man was carrying.

  Ferno’s tail was thick, longer than the dragon’s body, neck, and head put together. The end of the tail was rounded like the end of a club. Ferno turned, swinging its tail as gently as it could. It hit the man, who never saw it coming in the darkness. His body flew several feet then crashed to the ground. A tinkling sound filled the air, and Ferno saw round coins littering the ground around the man. The skies were cloudy, and the night was incredibly dark, but the small coins glowed almost like stars. It was gold, and Ferno wanted it all.

  “Give it to me,” Ferno growled as the man struggled to his hands and knees, frantically trying to pick up the coins.

  “Go to hell!” the man shouted as his hands found h
is spear in the darkness.

  In a futile attempt to fight the dragon, Darry drew back his arm, preparing to cast the spear. Ferno blew a gout of flame at the man that killed him in seconds. He fell to the ground, his clothes burning, his flesh charred by the fire emitting a horrid stench.

  Ferno wanted to leave but couldn't. The poor, confused beast was torn by conflicting emotions. Fighting, even killing humans was nothing new to the green dragon. Ferno had fought with Zollin and Brianna against the witch’s monsters and even against armies of humans. In those battles Ferno had felt nothing negative about killing people, but this time something was different. The dragon felt a wave of guilt. In its mind it tried to reason things out. Ferno hadn’t wanted to kill the man named Darry; it had given him ample opportunity to flee. It had warned him that the man was in danger, yet the foolish human had attempted to fight.

  Ferno wondered if perhaps it could have fought the man off without killing him. In all likelihood the man wouldn’t have hurt Ferno with the spear. The dragon’s scales hardened in prolonged exposure to sunlight, so that Ferno’s scales were nearly impenetrable by most weapons. Yet the man had posed a threat to Ferno, so it didn’t make sense that the dragon felt remorse, yet it did. Ferno had killed the man for the gold. It knew that. It wanted the shiny coins for some reason it couldn’t explain. Perhaps, Ferno thought, wanted wasn’t the right word. It needed the gold, yet Ferno didn’t like the idea that anything would cause the dragon to lose control.

  And then there was the fact that Ferno had been around gold before. Zollin carried a few gold coins, and there had been other times in the dragon’s short life when it had seen gold, but never had the metal disks seemed so tantalizing before. The dragon’s stomach rumbled, and it could smell the carcass of the stag, waiting to be consumed. Ferno could also hear other animals slinking toward its kill, but before the dragon could go and feed, it had to have the gold.

  Picking up the small canvas sack was difficult for the dragon’s massive talons, but it managed it. Picking up the individual coins was nearly impossible. It settled for scooping up small mounds of dirt that included the gold coins and dropping it all into the sack. Once Ferno had the gold, it flew back to the stag, holding the bag of gold coins close. With a powerful rear claw, it snatched up the dead stag and flew away, hoping that distance would ease the guilt that it was feeling for having killed the man for his gold.

  Ferno found a small hollow between two hills a few miles away and landed there. It ate the stag ravenously, then it curled its massive body around the small sack of gold. It didn’t know why it needed the precious metal so much, but something about the gold was intoxicating. It wanted to feel the cold metal on its scaly hide, but it didn’t dare risk losing the coins by emptying them out of the bag. Instead, it held the bag tight and fell into a deep sleep as the last few hours of night passed.

  ***

  Zollin’s trip into Felson was uneventful. The town was quickly growing. When Bartoom had raided villages in the north over a year ago, many of the survivors ended up staying in Felson. There was also a large garrison with a tall watchtower just north of the city, which of course allowed a thriving trade for brothels and taverns. There were a number of inns that Zollin could have stayed in, but his first stop was to the home of Miriam, an animal healer and former lover of his father’s. Miriam had a nice home and a large barn for the animals she took in. She was a talented healer, with a magical gift that helped her understand what ailed most creatures.

  Zollin hoped that Brianna had stopped in Felson. It was on the way south from where she had parted ways with Zollin just outside the Northern Highlands. If she did stop in Felson, she would have almost certainly made contact with Miriam, and Zollin needed to know all he could find out about where Brianna had gone and when.

  He walked up to the wide porch of Miriam’s home and knocked on the door. After a moment a young girl answered. She was wearing an apron and had her long hair tied back in a loose ponytail.

  “Can I help you?” she asked politely.

  “I hope so,” Zollin said. “I’m looking for Miriam.”

  “She is here. May I tell her who is calling?”

  “Yes, my name is Zollin.”

  “Zollin,” the girl repeated.

  “That’s right.”

  She nodded then closed the door. Zollin stepped back and waited. Miriam was known for taking in children who had lost their parents. She had strong ideas about how a person should behave, including how Zollin dealt with outlaws. She was a believer in second chances, and Zollin hoped she would be willing to give him one—or at least share with him anything she knew about Brianna.

  The door opened again, and Miriam smiled at him. She looked older, tired, and just a little bit frazzled. He smiled back, hoping that she would welcome him.

  “Zollin, it’s been a long time,” she said, closing the door behind her as she stepped out onto the porch. “Is you father here?”

  “No,” Zollin said. “I’m alone. Well, not exactly alone, but Ferno didn’t come into the city.”

  “That’s wise,” Miriam said. “Dragons aren’t really welcome here these days.”

  “That’s part of what I wanted to speak to you about. Have you by any chance seen Brianna?”

  “No, I haven’t. But I have heard that she passed this way recently. Is everything all right with the two of you? I heard about the wedding. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” Zollin said. “There’s nothing wrong, but we got separated, and I was hoping to find her.”

  “Well, take this news with a grain of salt. Vivi, my new helper,” Miriam waved toward the house, “heard this from some of the other children. There are rumors that the soldiers went to confront Brianna and her dragon. At least I’m assuming it was Brianna. The stories are pretty fantastic, so I’m not sure what to believe.”

  “Why did the soldiers need to confront her?” Zollin asked. “Did she do something wrong?”

  “No, I believe they did it to prove something. Most of the soldiers in the garrison are young. They didn’t fight in the Witch’s War, but they’re eager to test themselves.”

  “What happened?” Zollin asked.

  “What you might expect. They bit off more than they could chew.”

  “How many died?”

  “None died, which is why I suspected that they confronted Brianna. The rumors are that they found a woman—they’re calling her a dragon keeper,” Miriam smiled, “and that they captured her. But then of course she called her dragon to rescue her, but the soldiers held the beast at bay.”

  “That sounds a little self-serving,” Zollin said.

  “Indeed. But here is the interesting part. The soldiers say another beast attacked Brianna’s dragon and took it down. There’s rumors it was a phoenix.”

  “Really?” Zollin said.

  “Just rumors, so it’s hard to know what actually happened. I don’t know who is exaggerating more—the soldiers or the children who told Vivi.”

  “So what happened?”

  “The soldiers say that the woman escaped using magical powers, killed the phoenix, and then escaped on the dragon.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “A week ago,” Miriam said. “That’s all I know.”

  “I can find out more. I really appreciate your help.”

  “Is your father well?”

  “He is. He’s living in Brighton’s Gate. We all are, at least close by there at any rate.”

  “Does he ever mention me?”

  “He does. He has nothing but kind things to say about you.”

  “I wish I had met him sooner, when we weren’t so set in our ways.”

  “You made a good match,” Zollin said, feeling just a little bit uncomfortable.

  “Well, it’s all water under the bridge as they say. I have my life here, and it’s a busy one, but we always have room for one more. Would you like to stay with us tonight?”

  It was getting dark, and Zollin did n
eed a place to stay, but he also needed to find out more about the soldier’s encounter with Brianna and Sorva. Fortunately, he knew just how to get the information he needed.

  “Thank you, but I need to get a little more information about Brianna. I’ll stay at one of the inns tonight. I’m going to Baskla for King Hausey, but I’ll be back, hopefully with more time to spare.”

  “That would be nice,” Miriam said.

  “Thank you so much for your help.”

  “It’s good to see you Zollin. Take care of yourself and tell your father I send my love.”

  “I will,” Zollin said.

  He left Miriam’s home with a sense of melancholy that he didn’t like. His father had left Miriam after giving their relationship a real effort, but even though they both had strong feelings for one another, living together was just too difficult. They had parted as friends, but it seemed to Zollin that Miriam at least still had strong feelings for Quinn. Zollin guessed that his father had strong feelings as well, but Quinn was never one to talk about or even express his feelings, other than frustration and impatience with Zollin.

  Most small towns settled as night fell. A few locals could be counted on to gather in common places like an inn or café, but in Felson there was hint of excitement in the air as night fell. The town had a large population of young people and plenty of places for letting off steam. Zollin needed to find a place that was popular with the soldiers who were stationed at the nearby garrison. He knew what to look for and found a tavern that seemed especially busy. There were men drinking, others gambling, and still others eyeing an attractive young wench who worked out of a back room in the tavern.

  Zollin went to the bar and ordered himself an ale. The drink came in a wooden mug. It was frothy and just a tiny bit bitter, but Zollin drank it just the same. Halfway through the drink, he couldn’t taste the bitter anymore and he turned to look around the room. There were lanterns hanging over most of the tables, and a dice game was being carried out in a corner near the fireplace. On the opposite side of the room, the tavern was darker. A row of tables with benches on either side was positioned near the wall. Only one man sat in the gloom. It was easy to see that he was a soldier, since he was wearing the standard uniform of the light cavalry. He did not look happy, and he watched the young wench’s every move.