That Nol Baggar is tenacious, I considered irritably.
“He’s a hungry dog.” Ymmen’s presence swept into my mind, and immediately I felt a whole lot safer. Knowing that there is a dragon who’s got your back can do that… Even if Ymmen couldn’t help us directly, given the peculiarities of the Sea of Mists.
“The mists are retreating,” the dragon in my mind announced, although the news didn’t sound as though it filled him with joy (I could tell, as our communication wasn’t just words—I could feel the surface of Ymmen’s reptilian-mind next to mine, and sense his displeasure at something…)
“What is it?” I whispered, finally stopping and gesturing for Abioye—who also looked haggard and exhausted—to crouch on the grass beside me. I still felt a little like a taut bowstring however, expecting the sound of the Red Hounds at any moment…
“The fogs are growing smaller around the edge of this place, but I cannot see those who attacked you. They must have moved on, or deeper into the wetland, where the fogs are still strong,” Ymmen said irritably. His desire for vengeance against those who had tried to hurt me thrummed through me, and I felt embarrassed to have one so strong and so defiantly brave defending me. Just like Abioye did, too, I thought for a moment.
“Or they used the dragon salve.” My thoughts echoed his annoyance. Still, I guessed that they had now done what they had come to do, hadn’t they? They had scattered our expedition to the four winds, and perhaps managed to get their hands on Abioye’s mechanical dragon, too. What would Nol Baggar do with a dragon! My heart quailed for an instant when I thought about the possibilities of the Red Hounds riding mechanical dragons. But no, I consoled myself, they didn’t have Abioye’s necklace that powered it, did they?
“Some of your people made it out,” Ymmen informed me, but then he told me how many—only eight or nine (dragons apparently, weren’t big on counting exact numbers—to them, their thoughts were filled with ‘small’ or ‘enough’ or ‘too many’).
“Maybe the rest are still lost in the mists.” I swallowed, feeling a sudden lump in my throat. Had we really just lost almost fifteen souls to the mud pits and the blades of the Red Hounds?
“I will continue looking, and I will await your exit, little sister,” the dragon said in that always practical way that he had. I suppose that if he and I hadn’t been bonded, I would have found his nonchalance upsetting—perhaps even insulting, a little—as if the dragon couldn’t really care about the dangers that we faced.
However, being bonded as we were, I could sense that Ymmen’s apparent disregard for us was only because he was also certain that I had the skills to make it out of this place. It was a sort of confidence in me that was born from him knowing the insides and outsides of my mind, through and through. Added to that, of course, was a dragon’s sensibility—that if there was nothing that he could do right now, then he had changed his preoccupations in that animal way. No sense mourning a lost kill, I remembered one of the early pieces of dragon wisdom that he had given me when we had first bonded.
“I will be there,” I confirmed, and felt Ymmen’s wave of approval of my courage and tenacity.
When I looked over at my human companion however, I knew that I had a much more difficult task…
The young lord sat huddled on the damp grass, with his arms wrapping his chest and his eyes fixed on the opaque whites of the Sea of Mists beyond. Apart from his fineries and the fact that he was clearly a Middle Kingdomer—he had that same faraway look that I had seen a thousand times on the faces of the Elders, seers, and my mother when they stared into the fires of the communal hall to seek wisdom.
Only, I didn’t think that it was wisdom that Abioye was receiving now. Or not the sort of wisdom that we would be needing.
“I failed,” he whispered, not taking his eyes from the ever-shifting, opaque mists.
Yeah, I was right. I inwardly groaned. Abioye wasn’t receiving anything good at all. “It could be a whole lot worse,” I said a little irritably—probably because I was tired. Really! I thought. There were people out there who had lost their lives tonight—he should’ve been worried about that!
In response however, Abioye just turned his head to stare me full in the face and said one word. “How?” As soon as he looked me full in the eyes, I could see the depth of the devastation of Abioye’s soul, and immediately felt bad for my anger.
“Abioye, I’m sorry.” I moved towards him, but when I put a hand on his shoulder he remained as still as a statue.
“It can’t get any worse than this,” Abioye whispered. “I’ve lost the expedition. Those who haven’t been captured by the Red Hounds will probably have been killed!”
And then I realized how badly I had misjudged him. He wasn’t feeling sorry for himself—or not just for himself maybe—but for the fact that the expedition—the people—that he was in charge of had come to such a calamity.
“Abioye—there was nothing you could have done,” I tried. “How were you to guess that the Red Hounds were coming for us, and probably have been coming for us from the moment we left the Masaka?”
“It was my job to know,” Abioye said morosely, before adding, “or at least to protect the people under my care…”
The slaves and servants, you mean? I felt the familiar flash of anger at how the lordling’s choice of words hid the truth of his relationship to the people he led—but I knew what he meant, anyway. He felt responsible for the Daza and the laborers—even the guards—which was a step in the right direction. It was a hundred times more empathy than his sister, Inyene, had ever showed anyone, I knew.
“But how are we ever going to find the Stone Crown now!?” Abioye burst out. It had been a long time since I had heard any sound of our pursuers, but his raised voice still made me wince as he carried on. “We can’t. We’ve lost. Either the Red Hounds will get it—and the stars alone know what’s going to happen to it then—he’ll probably sell it to the highest bidder!” Abioye talked fast, barely any time to take a breath. “Or my sister will… In which case we’re all doomed anyway. Everyone will be doomed. Everywhere—and it’s all my fault!”
“Abioye, that is ridiculous—you can’t blame yourself for everything—” I tried to break into his torrent of misery, but it proved to be a more than difficult task.
“And Inyene said that she was sending reinforcements. Who will probably find us and kill us,” Abioye said morosely. “And even if they don’t—even if we manage to escape? Where are we going to escape to? The whole world is going to be at war if either my sister or the Red Hounds win!”
“My village,” I said simply, and it appeared that the words were so unexpected as to take the young man completely by surprise.
“What?” Abioye blinked, looking at me.
“We could go to my village. They will take us in. And look after us, until we figure things out…” I pointed out. “And we still have Ymmen, right? That has to count for something!” I offered.
But it appeared that even the fact that I had a very large and ferocious fire-breathing dragon as a friend didn’t lift Abioye’s dark mood.
“You don’t get it.” Abioye dropped his head into his hands, massaging at his temples as if they pained him. I had never seen him this upset. “It won’t do any good. None of it will do any good. It’s not just that Inyene or the Red Hounds or whomever will control every dragon there ever is or was—it’s the fact that I will be involved in it.”