The trio didn’t stop again until well after dark that night. Only when Ellyesce used his magic to perform a thorough scan of the area, three miles in each direction, did he risk building a fire, and even then it took some intense arguing with Jaax to risk even a small one.
“The light will act as a beacon to any who seek us,” the dragon stated, a bitter hardness to his tone.
“The Red Flange is still far to our south,” Ellyesce insisted, “and they’ve stopped moving for the evening.”
The dragon cast him a sharp look. “You haven’t been this precise before.”
Ellyesce grinned and pulled something from his pocket. It looked like a stamped piece of metal; a charm or a token, hanging from a string of leather.
“What’s that?” Jahrra asked.
“I removed it from one of the men at the crossroads. Since it’s been with the group, I can use it to show me where they are.”
Jahrra’s eyes widened. “Really? How?”
Jaax snorted, making his opinion clear.
Before answering Jahrra’s question, Ellyesce addressed the Tanaan dragon. “We are tucked back into an alcove. Unless someone wanders far off trail and finds the entrance in the dark, they will not see a fire.”
Jaax’s jaw tightened, but he said no more. Jahrra almost leapt with delight. The night promised to grow cooler and already she was shivering. Besides, Ellyesce had managed to out-argue Jaax. That, in of itself, was something worth celebrating.
Before moving over to a darker corner of their little nook, Jaax bent low to Ellyesce and breathed, “If we are discovered, this will be on your head. Those soldiers we encountered earlier today are not the only ones looking for us.”
The elf merely nodded, not smugly or sarcastically, but with the air of a man who knew that his decision posed a risk, no matter how small.
Once Jaax turned away, Ellyesce lifted the charm again. “This item holds memories, and a reflection of the life force of the man who owned it, as well as those he came into contact with every day. I am simply exploiting that connection by following the thread that is most tightly attached to one of this dead soldier’s companions.”
Jahrra scrunched her eyebrows together, the curiosity plain on her face. She had often wondered about his magic, but had not pried too much. She had not known where to start.
Ellyesce, picking up on her silent interest, released a breath and set the charm down. “Magic, Jahrra, can sometimes be a living thing. In this case, it is. Live magic is often sticky, clinging to the objects we use every day. This particular object,” he gestured to the trinket, “was handled often, and before becoming the property of our unfortunate soldier, it passed through the hands of several of the other members of his squadron.”
“You can tell all that using magic?” Jahrra asked.
Ellyesce nodded.
“Can you see it?”
“Not precisely, no.” He tapped his temple with a finger. “I can picture it, in my mind. Like the shadowy images on the edge of a dream, the magic I detect isn’t always clear to me. But it has a different feel to it.”
Jahrra opened her mouth to ask another question, but Ellyesce lifted a hand and cut her off before she could speak.
“I can’t really describe it, but I know it when I sense it. And this magic is letting me know the Red Flange is still very far away and like us, they are settling in for the evening.”
His face broke into a wicked grin. “They spent a good part of their day chasing after us on the eastern road. Their leader is not happy.”
That was some good news, at least. Soon afterward, they settled in for the evening, Jaax insisting on keeping watch all night. Neither Jahrra nor Ellyesce argued with him, for he was in a foul mood, and both she and the elf were tired.
That night, Jahrra’s dreams were plagued by images from the fight with the Tyrant’s men. She woke up groggy and feeling sick the next morning.
“It’ll wear off once we get moving,” Jaax told her. “Ask Ellyesce to fix you a cup of tea. You can drink it in the saddle.”
A thick fog had moved in during the small hours of the morning, sending its long, cool fingers into every crevasse of the mountains. The tea Ellyesce brewed was strong and sweetened with honey, and Jahrra savored its flavor and the warmth it brought to her numb hands as they rode.
By the time they stopped for lunch later that day, the mist had mostly burned off, and Jahrra was feeling much better. Their road had taken them just above a steep, narrow valley splitting two ragged ranges, and an exceptionally tall peak rose above the point ahead where the two ridges met. It was the last of the chain they had spent three weeks crossing, the last and tallest of the Hrunahn Footmountains. Beyond that, the greater mountains they’d seen before rose even higher, piercing the heavens with their snow-capped peaks.
“A few more days and we should be in Cahrdyarein,” Jaax murmured, eyeing the horizon in a similar fashion. He turned to Ellyesce. “Where are those who follow us?”
Ellyesce placed his hand in his pocket and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he opened them up again, his face grim.
“They have discovered our campsite from the night before.”
Jaax swore, causing Jahrra to jump and Phrym to move uneasily underneath her.
“How are they moving so quickly?” the dragon demanded.
“They have quahna,” the elf answered, his face serious, “and they do not have a cumbersome dragon walking with them.”
To Jahrra’s great surprise, Jaax did not react to that. He cast his eyes toward the mountain at the end of the valley and said, “I would fly ahead if I thought it would be of any use, but then you would be left unprotected, and their scouts might see me.”
“I am quite capable of defending myself, and Jahrra,” Ellyesce retorted.
“I’m not entirely helpless, either!” Jahrra insisted, though the memory of her fumbled attempt at taking on the Crimson King’s soldiers at the crossroads had her biting her cheek.
“That may be so,” Jaax said, “but if the Flange should catch up to you, or, Ethoes forbid, another troop of the Tyrant’s soldiers join them, you will need a dragon’s fire if you wish to have any chance at all.”
And, of course, he was right.
“We will just have to move faster, travel longer into the evening, and rise earlier.”
Jahrra gave a mental groan but knew if they wanted to reach Cahrdyarein before their enemy, they’d have to outpace them. But once they arrived, would they have any sort of reprieve? Would the mountain city become overrun by the dozen or so squadrons that trailed them? Were she and Ellyesce and Jaax only bringing danger to the citizens of Cahrdyarein? She hoped not.
“Then, we had better get moving,” Ellyesce said, nudging his semequin forward with his knees. Rumble, always even tempered no matter the situation, followed along without complaint.
Their path ascended from the valley floor, soon becoming a narrow strip of granite carved from the side of the mountain. Far below, a river, the water white from its swift movement, raced past in a hurry. Jahrra wished she and her friends could move as quickly, but when Jaax’s foot slipped, causing him to lean into the rock wall to regain his balance, Jahrra reconsidered her desire to pick up their pace.
“Be careful,” he called over his shoulder. “Too many of these rocks are unstable.”
She didn’t need the reminder.
Finally, just as dusk began settling in, the trail widened and entered a shaded wood. Jahrra breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to be away from the treacherous path. Jaax pushed them on for another few hours, and only when the horses became uneasy with all the sounds of prowling night predators did he call a halt.