Risala topped up the magewoman’s drink before she could refuse. ‘You’re going back on your word?’
‘It is more complicated than you imagine.’ Velindre found that her throat was dry in the dead, dusty air of the storehouse. That was peculiar—everyone knew Aldabreshin wine was too weak to intoxicate but she would have imagined it would quench a thirst.
‘You do know how to defeat the dragon?’ Risala repeated her question.
‘I’ve discovered a great many things about dragons, which Dev almost certainly does not know.’ Velindre stopped short before continuing, ‘I need to discuss these matters with Dev before we can decide our best course of action.’
‘I thought we were agreed on the only course of action that matters.’ The girl set her own goblet down beside a twist of oiled silk and turned a silver and emerald ring around her finger. ‘We must rid Chazen of the dragon.’
‘That may be easier said than done—’ Velindre broke off as a wave of dizziness swept over her. ‘You don’t understand ...’ Further words clogged in her throat, her tongue thick and awkward. Darkness rushed in from every side, closing around the little lamp’s flame. Velindre stared at the golden point of light, her jaw slack. She didn’t even feel the spittle sliding down her nerveless face as she fell sideways off the stool and the blackness claimed her. The last thing she heard was the treacherous Risala shouting something in incomprehensible Aldabreshin.
Chapter Sixteen
It’s coming.’ Kheda watched the fire shrink in on itself in defiance of every natural pattern.
It narrowed and then doubled in height. The solid wall of flame advanced. Trees were silhouetted against it, lilla, tandra and ironwood. Their leaves and branches flared to ash, their blistered trunks vanishing in the scarlet blaze.
Dev glanced over his shoulder to see where they were retreating before returning his sickened gaze to the pursuing fire. ‘It wants me dead,’ he muttered. ‘It looked me in the eye.’
Kheda flicked his gaze up to see the dragon sweeping this way and that across the sky, studying the forest ahead of its fiery barrier. While it’s trying to kill you, it’s not killing anyone else.’ He sucked at a hand scratched by a stray tendril of thorny striol. ‘All we need is to keep one step ahead of it until we know how to kill it.’
We cannot return to any residence, or risk any ship, if your very presence is going to bring down disaster on us. It may not be following your magic, barbarian, but it’s still got your scent somehow. Seventeen days, we’ve managed to evade it so far. How much longer will we be able to, now it’s started burning the forest that covers us?
‘My lord!’ A swordsman appeared at the edge of a gully cut deep into the forest floor. ‘This way!’
The dragon’s menacing bellow of challenge sounded overhead again. The wall of flame picked up speed, turning the forest to charcoal before their startled eyes. It roared towards them.
‘Run!’ Kheda shifted his swords in his sash and raced for the shelter of the gully. Dev followed hard on his heels.
The swordsman was scrambling over rocks of all sizes littered between earthen walls parched and crumbling under the long assault of the dry season. The river that had washed the broken stones down from the island’s heights was barely a chain of mossy puddles lurking beneath feathery ferns, biding its time until the rains should swell it to foaming ferocity once again.
‘This way, my lord.’ The swordsman glanced over his shoulder. ‘There’s a cave and less tinder for the cursed beast to burn around us.’
Mindful of the shattered ground underfoot, Kheda couldn’t resist looking up to see the wall of fire accelerating along the edge of the cleft so fast that it left the sturdier trees barely scorched. He shrank into the shadow of a mossy overhang as the dragon wheeled overhead, peering down. The wall of fire curled around a stand of ironwood trees. The circle contracted, flames rising higher and burning white hot. The ironwood trees burst into blinding flame.
Kheda turned his attention back to getting through the gully without breaking an ankle. Stumbling on a patch of loose shale, he grabbed Dev’s shoulder to save himself. The wizard’s tunic was dry and hot to the touch, while the warlord laboured under the chafing weight of a coarse cotton tunic sodden with sweat.
‘Do you need another dose?’ he hissed urgently, shaking the mage.
Dev plunged on, crushing pungent ferns underfoot.
‘Here, my lord.’ The swordsman disappeared into a dank cavern.
Kheda followed, forcing a rueful smile. ‘That was a little too close for comfort.’
‘Yes, my lord,’ the swordsman replied obediently.
None of the other men pressed against the irregular walls of the cave said anything, mere shadows in the darkness, only their eyes shining as they looked at Kheda.
‘Who’s here?’ The warlord paused for breath, chest heaving, as the men gave their names in muted tones. ‘Where’s Ridu?’
Not back yet,’ said a surly voice from the blacker recesses of the cave.
fs it better to challenge that or let it pass? Which mould just make things worse?
He looked out of the cave entrance. ‘We’ll be safe here—’
Kheda’s next words were lost as the scrubby bushes lining the opposite edge of the gully burst into flames, swaying with the violence of the dragon’s passing. Kheda saw the flash of its pale golden underbelly as its roar of fury shook loose earth from the sides of the crumbling cleft. Dev stood motionless, eyes tight shut, face like carved stone.
The dragon’s roar came again, more distant this time. No one moved or spoke. They waited in the musty darkness and listened to a third roar and a fourth.
Like listening for the thunderclap after the lightning flash in the rainy season, to find out how close the danger might be.
‘Is everyone here but Ridu?’ Kheda asked. He nodded at the ragged murmur of assent. ‘Do we have anything to eat tonight? Have all the villages hereabouts been warned?’
‘We’ve plenty of food,’ one relieved voice assured him.
The next man sounded more dubious. We’ve told the islanders to hide themselves as best they can.’
‘It hasn’t flattened any more villages now that we’ve given each spokesman a bag of jewels to cache somewhere obvious,’ Kheda pointed out.
‘A lot of the villagers are going down to the coast regardless.’ The surly voice spoke again. ‘And taking boats to other islands.’
Kheda’s eyes were becoming accustomed to the gloom and he picked out a tall, lean man blowing on his hands as if to cool them. ‘Zicre, isn’t it?’
The man froze. ‘Yes, my lord?’ he said warily.
‘If you’re hurt, come into the light where I can take a look,’ Kheda ordered. ‘And where’s my physic chest?’
The men in the cave shuffled themselves awkwardly to let Zicre through and Kheda’s physic chest was passed to the fore.
‘Do we have fresh water?’ Kheda nodded as someone confirmed this. ‘Then let’s all have a drink. We may as well stay here till Ridu gets back. Take a rest while you can. Zicre, let’s see those hands.’
Kheda moved closer to the edge of the cavern as the rest of the men made themselves as comfortable as possible with the ragged assortment of wraps and quilts they had dumped to one side. Zicre joined him and gingerly extended his fingers.
‘What happened here?’ Kheda saw that both hands were red and swollen and a raw burn ran along the outer edge of his sword hand, black grime crusted around the weeping edges.
‘Change in the wind,’ the man grunted. ‘Too close to the fire.’
‘Greenfoot oil will clean it and roseate starflower should help with the healing and keep it from festering.’ Kheda knelt to open his physic coffer, silver bindings tarnished against the ebony.