“What happened to the trail once the dragon cleared the woods?” Jo prompted the dwarf.
Karleah harrumphed at Braddoc as she sat down, and Jo turned to the older woman. The wizardess bit into a steaming piece of meat and, seemingly oblivious to the heat, said to Jo, “He lost it. Wouldn’t think a creature so close to the ground could lose a trail—a dragon trail at that—but the dwarf did.”
“I did not lose the trail!” Braddoc barked.
“You sure enough did!” the old woman retorted.
Jo held up her hand for silence, about to speak, but the words died on her lips. The gesture she had just made was one of Flinn’s, and she was shaken. She didn’t know whether to be surprised that she used the gesture or heartened that she was following in his footsteps. Jo managed to say, “That’s—that’s enough bickering, please. Just tell me what happened after you broke through the woods, Braddoc.”
Braddoc shot Karleah an I-told-you-so look with his good eye, then turned back to Jo. “The trail continued once I was through the woods and into the Wulfholdes,” the dwarf said sharply. He paused, then shook his head. “Flinn severely injured Verdilith, by the looks of the blood trail the dragon left. In fact, I’d wager it was a close fight.
My guess is Flinn very nearly—”
Jo winced and put her hand to her eyes. Braddoc halted his words, and Jo silently thanked him. By the Immortals, she thought, Flinn would have lived if I had been there, regardless of Karleah’s prophecy.
“Johauna …” Braddoc said tentatively, his voice quieter than Jo had ever heard. “I’m sorry I said that. I thought you’d be comforted to know that Verdilith paid dearly for—”
Jo winced again. “Thank you, Braddoc. I know,” she said heavily. “I just wish I’d been at Flinn’s side, like a good squire—”
“Don’t think that, girl,” Karleah cut in with her high-pitched voice. “Fain Flinn rode to his doom that day, and he knew it. He knew, too, that any who went with him would meet their doom as well. Flinn did a brave deed that day—don’t belittle it by thinking you could’ve saved him.”
Jo looked at her plate of food and then at Karleah. “You believe your prophecy, Karleah; I’ll believe my instincts. I could have saved him.” Jo frowned bitterly.
Karleah snorted, and her dark eyes glittered at Jo. “Harrumph! My prophecies have never failed me, girl. Had you been in the glade with Flinn, you both would have died.”
And how much better that would have been than this! Jo’s heart cried. She gripped her bread tighter and stared at the crone. “Believe what you like, Karleah,” Jo said coldly, “and leave me to do the same.”
“I’m glad you didn’t die, Jo,” Dayin said softly, his eyes shining at Jo. The young woman stared at the boy, unable to decide if she felt grateful or annoyed at his feelings for her. Dayin’s eyes averted from Jo’s before she could decide.
The boys shoulders hunched slightly, and Jo turned back to Braddoc.
“So you were able to follow Verdilith’s trail into the Wulfholdes?” Jo asked briskly, determined to change the conversation. She bit into a piece of bread.
Braddoc nodded, swallowing some food. He said, “Yes, I followed the trail—it was clear and obvious. Then I rounded a hill and—”
“—and the trail disappeared! The dwarf lost the trail!” Karleah cackled. She slapped a bony knee beneath the shapeless gray shift she wore.
A wicked grin slowly crossed Braddoc’s face as he fixed his good eye on Karleah. “That’s where you’re wrong, old hag,” he said gleefully.
“Eh?” Karleah’s tiny black eyes widened suddenly, and her mouth hung open. “That’s not what you said before,” she noted worriedly.
Braddoc nodded slowly, still grinning. He waggled a finger at Karleah. “I didn’t tell you, old woman, because I wanted to tell Johauna first,” Braddoc said and then turned to Jo. The smile left the dwarf’s face. “I may have lost the trail, but I haven’t lost the dragon.”
“What do you mean, Braddoc?” Jo asked. She placed her cleaned plate by the fire, then licked her lips and frowned. An odd aftertaste lingered in her mouth. I hope the rabbit wasn’t spoilt, she thought, then thought better of it. Karleah never brought home carrion when she hunted in wolf form.
Braddoc held out his hands toward Jo. They shook slightly. “Johauna! Listen to me!” he said excitedly. “I lost the trail because the trail ended! The trail ended at the hill!”
“The hill? What hill, Braddoc?” Jo asked, just a shade testily. She blinked rapidly, trying to stifle the sudden urge to close her eyes. The lack of sleep is catching up with me, she thought, but I won’t sleep now. I don’t dare. “The Wulfholdes are all hills!” Jo yawned abruptly.
Braddoc glanced quickly at Karleah and then turned back to Jo. “Does one particular hill—a slightly rounded hill, with a stunted pine nearby—interest you?” Braddoc asked quietly. Beside him, Karleah drew her breath in sharply. Dayin looked up from his food, then leaned closer.
Jo blinked, only then aware that she had stopped breathing. Then, with a long intake of air, she asked, “You found the hill? You found Verdilith’s lair? You found the dragon?”
“You’re sure it’s the same hill we saw in the crystal?” Karleah asked sharply.
Jo interrupted, “Is it the hill, Braddoc? Did you find the dragon?” She yawned again. A great desire for sleep washed over her, but Jo shook herself mentally. I know you’re tired, she thought, but there are more important things than sleep. You must listen to Braddoc.
The dwarf stared at Jo, his good eye not blinking. Jo struggled to focus her eyes on him. Nodding, Braddoc said, “Yes, it’s the right hill. But I spent the better part of three days searching and I couldn’t find an entrance anywhere—nothing!”
Jo’s vision swam. She stood shakily, oblivious of the concern on her three comrades’ faces. “W-we have to find an entrance somehow. We must. Surely we can reach this hill before sundown—”
Karleah broke in. “Not today, Jo.” The old woman stood, too, and put her hand on Johauna’s arm.
Jo’s russet eyebrows rose in perplexity as she struggled to understand the wizardess. Then anger knitted her brow.
“Why n-not today, Karleah?” she stuttered, angry at her sleepiness. “You’re not in charge—”
“No, I’m not,” Karleah said agreeably. The crone lifted one thin hand and touched Jo’s cheek. She nodded at the younger woman. “No, Jo, you’re in charge. But you’re exhausted and need to rest. I think the powder I put in your stew is beginning to work… .”
Johauna’s eyes rolled backward as she fell into Braddoc’s waiting arms. Karleah drugged me? Jo thought in disbelief. She could hear her friends’ concerned voices, but the voices seemed to come from far away. A roaring filled her ears, and a strange lethargy seeped into her body. She struggled against it, suddenly afraid of what her dreams would bring. No! she cried, unaware that she made no sound. No! I mustn’t sleep! I mustn’t sleep!
But the sleeping powder and her own exhaustion were too much for Jo. Fatigue descended, surrounding her and dragging her into dreaming. Jo’s last conscious thought was one of mingled dread and longing: she knew that in her dreams, Flinn would live again. She knew, too, that when she awoke, he would not.
But, for now, she dreamed of Flinn.
Flinn lay in a world of cold and ceaseless flames. He was naked. He was dead. And the body that he occupied was somehow like his own, and somehow different. It floated numbly about his consciousness, as though his limbs were made of water and sponge. And the world of flames around him seemed to purify his watery form.