“We will die if we do nothing,” a deeper male voice added to the collective. “The essence of dragon flows through us like water courses through a valley. Without magic, I believe we would simply die and become one with the forest.”
“We don’t know that,” another Drake countered.
“We could live,” Laga’Thak said, her opposing comment nearly two days old.
“We could survive,” a softer voice put forward.
“We do not live to merely survive,” Laga’Thak replied, though her response was very recent now, contradicting her earlier opinions. “We live to be in harmony with magic.”
Adan’Karth’s voice pushed through the ether. “Could we really live with ourselves knowing we could have done something, but chose to do nothing?”
Laga’Thak made to respond when her consciousness turned on Kassian. The Drake poured her mind into his and saw all that he was and all that he had been. “You do not belong here,” she said simply.
Before the Keeper could respond, his presence was ejected. His mind felt like it was slammed back into his body and with it a wave of nausea assaulted him. He staggered away from the tall Drake he had been touching and leaned against the nearest tree. After succeeding to keep his stomach in check, he straightened up and became aware of the freezing cold again. How long had he been standing still for, his muscles idle?
Working his way back to the clearing, the centre of the Drake-web, Kassian discovered that Adan’Karth was still at the heart of it all. He had been standing on that spot for two days, never once pausing to eat or drink the supplies Inara had brought back from Vangarth. A quick count informed the Keeper that seven other Drakes were currently touching Adan and each of them was being touched by three more and so on.
Just the sight of them made Kassian feel weary. He returned to the small fire of his makeshift camp, nestled between the Drakes. It took more time than he would have liked to warm up again, though he was hesitant to define it as warm. He decided he was simply less cold than before. At least, he thought, his appetite was coming back.
While consuming his flat bread and cold sausage, the Keeper heard a pair of feet crunching through the snow. This wasn’t unusual and didn’t give him pause, as Drakes had been appearing at all times of day. When the footsteps grew closer, however, he had cause to look over his shoulder.
Inara Galfrey.
Her red cloak was dark in the firelight of her torch. Kassian only needed a quick look at her face to know that she hadn’t found restful sleep in days, if any sleep at all. He was thankful to see her though. Besides the calm emanating from the Drakes, there was an eerie silence that permeated the forest from dawn till dusk that made him feel isolated. He also liked the food she brought him.
“Please tell me you stopped by a bakery on your way here,” he pleaded in a hushed tone.
Inara came to sit beside him with a knowing smile. From within her satchel, she provided a small cube wrapped in cloth and tied with a piece of string. Kassian stopped himself from snatching it and thanked her before even removing the cloth. The smell of the lemon cake was more intoxicating than any ale or cider that had crossed his path.
“How are things here?” Inara asked, casting a cursory glance over the Drakes.
“More turn up all the time,” Kassian replied with half a mouthful of cake. “They’re so far back now, you can’t see them all.”
“Have any of them moved? Said anything?”
The Keeper shook his head. “No. At least not in the way we understand. They’re as unmoving as the trees, but inside,” he added, tapping the side of his head, “they’re all talking at once, their emotions bleeding into each other. They share memories right down to the smell and taste of a thing. It’s incredible.”
Inara turned so that her blue eyes could bore into the Keeper. “Did you touch one of them?”
Kassian kept his gaze on the last few crumbs of cake inside the cloth. “I might have… brushed past one of them, yes.”
“Kassian!” she admonished. “I told you not to interfere.”
“So did they,” he muttered. “And besides, I’ve been stuck out here with them for days! It’s freezing and my magic is barely working. Pretty soon I’m going to have to keep this fire going the old-fashioned way.” Kassian stared at the flickering flames for a moment before realising he had no idea how ordinary people started fires. “I can’t stay out here forever,” he concluded. “Maybe you should stay here and I’ll go back to Vangarth.”
“We don’t have forever,” Inara agonised, ignoring his last comment.
The Guardian didn’t need scrutinising to see that the weight of the world was sitting on her shoulders. “How are things in Vangarth?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Athis and I have cleared it of Reavers,” she reported.
“That sounds like fun,” Kassian lamented.
“It had its moments,” Inara replied, a touch of levity added to their conversation. “Governor Harlan is very much on the side of The Rebellion thankfully. He’s already sent several carts of supplies to The Moonlit Plains.”
Kassian nodded along, glad to hear it all. He couldn’t help but notice, however, the look of concern that crept across Inara’s face. “What is it?”
“What’s what?” she countered, perhaps brusquely.
“What’s the cause of your concern?” he asked specifically.
“Besides the end of magic,” Inara quipped, “and the realm falling under the rule of a mad dragon and his pet?”
“Those are usually my words. You even got the tone right. All of which tells me you’re compensating for something. What is it?”
Inara rubbed her eyes and sighed. “Athis is getting worse,” she told him. “He’s already
