Gideon hadn’t missed, however, her brief glance at the satchel draped over Galanör’s shoulder. Thanks to Ilargo’s shared memories, Inara already knew what prize they had returned with.
“You saved the tree,” he complimented with half a smile.
“That’s an overstatement,” Inara corrected flatly. “Though I lent my sword to the effort, which is more than you can say,” she added sourly.
The old master took a breath to steady his rising temper - no easy feat since altering his bond with Ilargo. “You know as well as I that any war requires fighting on more than one front.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing in Davosai?” Inara questioned incredulously. “Fighting on another front? Is this the part where you convince me that Crissalith is naught but a weapon to kill Alijah and Malliath?”
“With the Hastion gem,” Gideon replied, “Crissalith is a weapon in our hands. It will sever Alijah’s bond with Malliath but, more importantly, it will sever the strings Malliath has used to control Alijah all these years.”
Inara raised a hand to stop him. “I’ve heard this argument from my mother. I am not so naive as to believe your intentions towards Alijah. You still believe he can be redeemed, that he deserves to be redeemed. A ludicrous notion when we can’t even count the number of bones he stands upon.”
“He’s your brother, Inara. Have you forgotten that?”
“How could I forget that?” Inara spat. “Because of him, my very name has been tainted, my bloodline questioned. When this is all over and my brother is dead, do you really think the people of Illian are going to tolerate another Galfrey with a dragon?” She shook her head, exasperated. “No, Gideon, I have not forgotten that he is my kin. The difference between you and me, is that he’s already dead in my eyes.”
Gideon didn’t hide his disappointment in her perspective. “We have a duty to save every life, Inara. Every life.”
“Duty?” she queried with a frown. “We are neither Dragorn nor Dragon Rider. We have no such duty. I am the Guardian of the Realm, a title thrust upon me in your absence. I am honour-bound to protect the people of Illian from evil, whatever form it takes. Killing Alijah and Malliath will ensure their protection. There ends my duty.”
Inara turned on her heel and made for the pavilion. “I need to save him, Inara!” Gideon growled, halting her mid-stride. “I need to save him,” he repeated hopelessly. “I am the one who failed him. He could have been so much more. His destiny could have been as glorious as I’m sure yours is. But I failed him. And because of my failings, he ended up in the hands of The Crow. So you see,” he said with a tired shrug, “I have to undo my mistake.”
Inara held his gaze a moment longer. “No,” she responded evenly. “You have to live with your mistake.”
Gideon remained rooted to the ground, the wind taken out of him by her sharp words. “Keep the hope alive,” he blurted, preventing Inara from completely turning away from him. “That is also your duty, is it not?”
The Guardian’s hard expression faltered ever so briefly before returning tenfold. “You will have to be quick about your report,” she said, changing the subject.
“Why?” Gideon asked with a hint of concern. “What’s happened?”
“Word from The Black Wood: King Dakmund has passed away.” Inara’s tone was simply matter-of-fact, though Gideon suspected it was caused by talking to him rather than the subject matter. “As he was the last dwarven king of Dhenaheim,” she continued impatiently, “a great deal of his kin wish to pay their respects before the next battle. There’s also the matter of a new king. Given its significance and subsequent impact on the realm, the council has decided to accompany them further north. It’s been decided that our forces will remain here and prepare to take The Vrost Mountains when we return.”
Gideon remained where he stood for a few seconds longer, watching Inara disappear inside the tent. She is carrying so much, he said to Ilargo. This is not the Inara Galfrey I know.
A great deal has happened to her, the dragon replied. We all change.
The old master shook his head slightly. Not like this. She has shut part of herself off to cope with it all.
Perhaps, Ilargo posed, that is what is required to kill her own brother.
Gideon was tempted to turn around and spot the dragon across the camp, well aware that his companion didn’t truly believe that. Whatever Alijah’s fate, we both know she will need all of herself if she is to defeat him. He is too powerful to be faced by anything less. I will speak to her again.
And soon, Ilargo prompted. When next they meet, I fear only one will survive.
52
Feeling It
Having taken on Gideon’s and Ilargo’s memories of their time in Ayda, Inara felt no need to be present for the report to Vighon and the others. Instead, she ascended to the heavens with Athis in the hope of finding fresh air to breathe, air that wasn’t shared with her old master.
From the sky, they watched the world go by. As the day waned, the council eventually set out from the mountains, trailed closely by several hundred dwarves of varying clans. She could also see the four human scouts on horseback, riding off into the valley.
Taking in The Vrost Mountains as a whole, Inara liked to think her brother and his forces were trapped in there. They had retreated in the belief that all they had to do was wait: wait for the tree to burn, wait for their most powerful foes to die away, and wait for The Rebellion to be at its most vulnerable.
Inara held her head high in defiance. After so much
