“I wonder if she’ll come back,” Duranix murmured, head down on the ground once more.
Amero finished washing the dragon’s leg. “Why wouldn’t she?”
“Sthenn has marked her for his own, Amero. Sooner or later, she’ll betray you to him.”
Amero sat down by the dragon’s head. “Can’t you spare her some trust? I’ve been with her for days, and she’s done nothing wrong. Oh, she miscounted the raiders, but…” He waved a hand dismissively. “She could’ve betrayed us to them a dozen times, but she didn’t. She’s been nothing but what she seems — a girl, alone in the world, pursued by evil forces.”
In spite of his fevered exhaustion, the dragon cocked a metallic brow at his friend and teased, “Irresistible, isn’t she?”
“Oh, shut up.”
They listened to the crickets awhile, then Duranix’s nostrils flared. “I’m starving. Have you anything to eat?”
Amero looked in his shoulder pouch. “A little trail bread, some elk jerky — ”
“Give me the meat.”
The jerky was in two folded strips, each as long as Amero’s forearm. Enough to feed a man for three or four days, for the dragon it was less than a bite. It disappeared quickly into Duranix’s maw.
“We’ll have to move soon,” Amero said. “We don’t stand a chance against Zannian’s band by daylight.”
“You should go ahead on your own. I’m too slow. It will be easy for them to track me.”
“I won’t leave you behind.”
“Don’t be stupid. I won’t be able to defend you from the whole band.”
“Who asked you to? Have you ever considered that I might be able to defend you? ”
“Silly human! Think of the female, then. Do you want to see her killed?”
Amero’s argument died, the anger on his face fading into worry. He could take responsibility for himself and for the dragon, but not for Beramun.
Duranix closed his eyes tiredly. “You see? You must go without me.”
Before Amero could reply, Beramun returned with an armload of larchit leaves. They found smooth stones on the creek bank and set to pounding the fleshy green leaves to paste. Amero smeared several handfuls of the paste on Duranix’s wound. “You know this won’t cure me,” said the dragon.
“I know,” Amero said.
“Then why do it?”
“It will soothe your hurt. Isn’t that enough?”
Duranix lowered his head to the ground. “Stupid man,” he said, but there was no rancor in his words.
Beramun said little until Amero had finished ministering to his giant friend, then she asked, “What next?”
“We must get to Yala-tene,” he replied, rinsing the sticky larchit sap from his hands. “If we can get Duranix to the village, our healers can treat him.”
She chewed her lower lip and scuffed a heel in the dirt. “It’s a long way to the mountains. Do you think we can evade Zannian’s riders over that distance? I don’t.”
“You may be right. You should go.” Amero cleaned the dagger again and returned it to its sheath. “If you strike out due west, you might avoid the raiders altogether.”
She folded her arms. “You’re telling me to leave?”
“Yes. I want you safe.”
Beramun jumped up, eyes flashing. “Who said you could decide my fate? Those vipers out there wiped out my family. I will see them served the same!”
“Don’t shout,” murmured Duranix, eyes still closed. “They’ll hear you.”
She flushed, then snatched up Amero’s spear. “I’m hungry,” she declared more quietly. “I’ll bring back game.”
She stalked off, leaving Amero staring after her. Before he could speak his confusion, a low, bass rumble rose from Duranix’s throat.
Amero circled around to glare at the dragon face to face. “Are you laughing at me?”
“You’re making progress, boy. If we survive, she may give herself to you yet.” Hot puffs of air from Duranix’s chuckling stirred Amero’s hair.
“That’s not funny.” A smile crept across Amero’s face even as he said it. “Boy” indeed! Though he was thirty-eight, in
Duranix’s company Amero frequently felt like the thirteen-year-old he’d been when they met.
Soon, his laughter was mingling with his friend’s.
Beramun returned from her hunt empty-handed. The countryside was barren, she reported, everything chased away by Zannian’s mounted patrols. By then the eastern sky was blushing toward dawn. It was clear they would be dangerously exposed come daybreak.
Amero and Beramun cast about for some spot where they could make a stand. Hiding in the pit again was out. The sod was beginning to sag under the weight of the previous day’s rain. The sunken rim of the hole was a dead giveaway. The bottom of the hole was knee-deep with mud as well.
While the two humans traded increasingly desperate suggestions, Duranix struggled to his feet. He had feeling in his hind legs again, but they were still too weak to support him. Stretching his wings wide, he could tell by the pain in his shoulders he couldn’t take to the air, either.
He lifted his head as high as he could and surveyed the distant raiders’ camp. The sun, veiled by a lingering cloud, was rising behind the camp, and he could see the humans stirring. It was only a matter of time before their mounted scouts found his little group.
Duranix shifted slightly on his forelegs. Mud squelched between his claws. Looking at the viscous soil, a marvelous, far-fetched idea blazed through the fevered haze in his mind. Digging his claws into the mud, he bowed his neck until his jaw rested on the wet turf. From deep within himself, he summoned the fire inside.
Duranix’s brazen skin grew hotter and hotter. The mud on his limbs and belly dried to a gray powder and flaked off. Steam rose around him. He continued to pour his depleted strength into the damp soil, heating it until the previous day’s heavy rains were given up in the form of mist.
Amero was still searching for a likely place to hold off the raiders when he noticed the shallow creekbed was rapidly filling with fog. Already, all he could see of Duranix was the arch of his spine and the top of his bowed neck. Fascinated, Amero watched the mist fill the ravine, creeping up the hillside and flowing down the other side. A light breeze helped move the mist across the open plain. He was soon surrounded by one of the thickest fogs he’d ever seen.
“Amero? Amero, are you there?”
“Beramun! Over here!”
She appeared out of the murk like a black-haired wraith. “Duranix is weaving a mist to hide us from the raiders!”
They worked their way back to the creek and used it to guide themselves to the dragon. Golden morning light filtered through the fog, tinting it the exact color of Duranix’s scales, and they missed the dragon completely. They backtracked. In the end they found him only because Beramun walked directly into his chest.
“My ancestors!” she exclaimed. “He’s become fog himself!”
“Not quite,” Duranix replied. “But close enough for our purpose.”
“How long will the mist last?” asked Amero.
“It will remain only as long as the wind and sun allow. Once gone, I cannot renew it. My strength is used up.”
Amero grabbed Beramun’s hand. “Then we’d better get moving.”
Before breaking camp, the Jade Men left behind a macabre honor for their master: a mound of severed heads, taken from the slain prisoners. It stood higher than a man, and the green-garbed warriors forced the recaptured slaves to march past it. Nacris had not ordered the deed, but she approved it. The surviving captives trudged silently by the gruesome pile, their earlier pride in the escape completely gone. A few paces beyond the grisly warning, the mist swallowed them.
