‘You are of no use to us if you refuse to eat,’ said Mindu Stormwalker, and he put a wooden bowl on the stump before Maeve.

‘We thank you, Lord. Although we would mayhap be more efficient with the cutlery, were our hands untied,’ observed Reynard. Mindu gave him a belly laugh.

‘Witty! But I am no Lord. We’ll untie three of you at a time. Don’t try to pull any tricks or else I’ll grow grumpy.’

Maeve shifted uncomfortable when she felt the naked blade scratching her wrists. After feeling the ropes fall, she immediately pulled her hands to her chest, gently rubbing her wrists.

‘I relish sincere talks. You possess two gemstones and there’s a Gifted among your ranks.’

For a moment, silence was pierced through only by the chirping of crickets and the gentle crackling of fire. Reynard slowly lifted his head, awkwardly avoiding looking at Maeve.

‘Are you Gifted yourself?’

The robust man stared at him, his dark eyes looming as depthless wells, his features dark in the night. The dancing flames of the campfire painted his face sinister as Mindu remained silent.

‘We do have gemstones,’ Maeve cleared her throat. Eyes turned toward her. She immediately regretted speaking. ‘But we hide no … Gifted among us.’

Sounds of a scrum, then a painful groan drifted towards them. Two of Mindu’s people took Lundahl away from the group. Maeve shivered at the sight of those soldiers—the various leaves and branches they hung onto themselves made them look like spectacularly grown nighttwigs. Lundahl was tumbling as the two soldiers brought him into the darkness outside the firelight.

Reynard tensed and stared back at Mindu. The man glanced at him askance.

‘Told you not to pull tricks. Now, young lady,’ he turned to Maeve, ‘I’ve just told you I like sincere talks. Yet you dare lie to my face. Why’s that?’

‘I am not lying.’ Maeve had no idea what she was doing, but now she felt she could not back down. She swallowed and tried not to avert her gaze from Mindu’s terrible glare. ‘There is no Gifted here.’

‘Is this a play of words?’ the big man snorted, looking some of the hunters in the eye nearby. ‘Gifted, Blessed, Reborn, it’s all the same. But very well. I see you will not cooperate. Denying a fact won’t make any difference. Now eat. We’ll reach Tusk Ridge tomorrow.’

‘If you insist one of us is Reborn, why do you let us be, untied?’ Maeve asked quietly before Mindu rose. ‘For all you know, we may pose a danger to your people.’ The girl saw Reynard tensing, but Mindu’s eyes glinted with curiosity.

‘How many Reborn have you known in your life?’ he asked.

‘There are not many who may wield the gift of the Gods.’

‘True. But how many have you known, how many have you heard of?’

‘Not many.’

‘But you have, indeed. I have no knowledge of any one gift nor curse which could be used to inflict harm. I should be more wary of those gemstones of yours. Why didn’t I seize them, then, you ask? They are simply broken. They don’t work. Here, on this part of the isle you cannot control the faelin unless it has touched you.’

‘Why?’

Mindu stood up. ‘Patience, young lady. Remember, we are not on good terms, not yet. After all, you are my prisoners. That could change, of course, if you are willing to share information. I’ll let you conspire by this modest meal now. Try to sleep after you finish, I don’t want you to fall behind tomorrow.’

‘What was that?’ Amodh whispered to Maeve after Mindu left the little company around the fire. Only a few of the Stormwalker’s countrymen lingered around, none of them too close to overhear them.

‘I truly do not know.’ Maeve was appalled at her honesty. Reynard leant forward while stirring the stew in his wooden bowl.

‘You do realize who that man is, don’t you?’

‘Mindu Stormwalker.’

‘Yes, Lady Maeve, Mindu Stormwalker. Do you know who he is?’

‘I, uh … I presume the Stormwalkers are … members of an influential family?’

‘Stormwalker is not his family name,’ Reynard answered in a low voice. ‘It’s his title. A Stormwalker is appointed by their Circle of Elders, following a series of trials. It’s the person who unifies the tribes. Basically, a king, the same as Bryne is to us.’

‘How is it possible to have more than one Stormwalker?’ asked Amodh. ‘Do each of the clans have one?’

‘No.’ Brief and terse. Maeve began to understand the gravity of the situation.

‘What of Anru Stormwalker, then? Isn’t he the leader of the rebellion?’

‘That’s the curious part.’ Reynard paused for a few spoonsful of soup. ‘Only one Stormwalker prevails over the isles at a time. That either means Anru is dead and now Mindu is his successor, or that there is discord among the islanders.’

‘These are not mutually exclusive,’ Amodh shrugged and slurped from his bowl.

‘True. Yet revealing … certain things could be a grave error, in my humble opinion.’ Reynard stared at Maeve until she slowly nodded.

‘Understood. Not like I want to—’

‘Then don’t, Lady Maeve, I beg you. It is unlikely that they would harm you. But I doubt that privilege would also be extended to the rest of us.’

‘Mindu seems … decent,’ argued Maeve, though she felt it was a weak point. It was their second night after they had been ambushed by the Boar tribe.

Reynard sighed. ‘Pardon me, Maeve, but you are young. I’ve seen decent people going mad over more trifling matters. Our matter here is certainly not trivial.’

‘You speak as if you know what that matter is,’ Amodh said, putting down his empty bowl. He kept a hushed voice. ‘We have no idea what they want, but we have no idea what we want either. Did you speak to him about the living dead?’

‘Didn’t have the chance. As to what we want, I know it perfectly well: to leave this island behind as soon as possible. Word must be sent to the King about what transpired here.’

‘Do you think those monsters could pass the river and its barrier?’ Amodh turned to Maeve.

‘If they are bound by the faelin, it is unlikely. Apparently, gemstones don’t work here, so I must assume the faelin cannot be touched here. That, of course, does not explain why could a Reborn still have access to the power.’

‘That’s a riddle you must solve on your own, I’m afraid.’ Reynard finished his meal and stood. Immediately, an islanders stepped to him. ‘I would like all my people to be fed if that’s possible. I gladly take the chains in their stead.’

‘Prisoners rarely get what they would like.’ The soldier’s voice was quiet, gentle. He lifted Reynard’s chains and waited for the hunter to put his wrists together. ‘This shall be an exception, though. Rest assured; all your companions are to eat before sleep. Stormwalker’s orders.’

Maeve quickly spooned the rest of his stew, then obediently stood, putting her hands together for the soldier before her. He put the rope back on her wrists, albeit in a much looser knot. Nash and two other hunters occupied the trunks around the campfire, taking their portion of meal.

Maeve followed Reynard farther from the fire, where the man awkwardly took down his cloak and laid it on the ground. Maeve remained nearby and repeated the action in a discreet distance. Lying onto her cloak, she realised how much she would miss her bed on the Magnate. Numbness surged back into her limbs, and she listened to Amodh’s helpless mumbling with unfamiliar indifference as he was struggling to make his lair.

A few moments later an islander stopped by her, offering a blanket. ‘The night is cold.’

Maeve accepted the gift; she tightly wrapped it around herself. She lay on her back, indulging herself in the only thing that could offer her comfort—the starry night sky. She tried to be completely oblivious as all the hunters took turns around the fire, dining, yet for one twisted reason or another, her soul found tranquillity in the soft noises of their companions making their places for the night.

Soon after everyone hushed, a girl’s voice emerged from the silence. A beautiful, clear, soothing voice, singing a tune unknown to Maeve. She sighed deeply, truly feeling those notes in her bones. The singing seemed ethereal, bittersweet, reminding her of days of purity, of long-gone serenity. Quiet sighs filled the air all around her as many of the hunters reminisced in whatever thoughts the song invoked in them.

Iladath could sing pretty well. Ananda, too. All the kids gathered around them whenever they converged behind the tavern’s stables, well after their bedtime, to hear their beautiful songs of heroic tales or witty poems. Maeve was no older than ten when Ananda, a couple years older than her and the rest of her friends, decided to stay with her family and moved to Eastern Andoriel. Iladath still offered evening songs for nearly a year after, but soon left town for Shalyndar, capital of Andoriel, to study at the College.

Back then Maeve wanted to learn to sing, to dance, to play the flute or the lyre, but naturally, her father had different plans for her.

The singing drew closer, and Maeve curiously realised that Mindu and a slender, tall redhead girl from whom the song came stopped by her. Mindu was smiling as he sat on the ground, legs crossed. The girl held the last note of the tune a bit longer, then fell silent. Maeve did not like her features. Her lips were too narrow, her nose too pointy, her whole face too … fox-like. She must have been a few years older than Maeve.

It felt as though the last note of the song still hung unto the chill of the night air. Maeve looked around—apart from a couple of islanders walking among the hunters, all were asleep, motionless. Then she understood that the echo she felt was not the echo of the song.

It was the subtle fading of the faelin.

Mindu lifted his hands to his ears and plucked something Maeve believed to be wax. A growing sense of despair surged in her chest as she sat up.

‘I did hope I would find someone else,’ Mindu admitted apologetically. ‘I also knew somehow it would be you.’

‘What’s going on?’ Maeve would have liked her voice to be far smoother.

‘This is Darine Hethlaw,’ Mindu pointed at the redhead girl. She did a little curtsey but did not sit. ‘She is Gifted by the Gods.’

‘Reborn.’

‘Yes. Such as you are.’

‘No need to deny, girl,’ scoffed Darine at her. ‘The song did not touch you.’

Maeve, however fearful she felt, grew angry. The next time someone calls me girl or child, I swear …

‘So that’s your power?’ Maeve asked her scornfully. ‘You can sing?’

Darine smiled with utter contempt. Mindu quickly answered in her stead. ‘That and much more. She could hum a bear to sleep. Sing a song that will drown your heart in sorrow. With her voice, she can make you stare into the very void itself.’

‘Impressive.’

‘How do they call you?’

‘Maeve.’

‘What is your power, Maeve?’

The young woman contemplated her answer for a second. She turned her head around once more, only to hear Darine clicking her tongue.

‘All of them are asleep. You could not wake them unless I let you so.’

‘How am I not affected?’

‘Reborn have natural protection against the effects of the faelin.’ Darine frowned. ‘You know little for a Reborn.’

‘I can heal a wound,’ Maeve quietly began, disregarding the girl’s words. ‘I can prevent death, restore life, banish anxiety and despair from one’s heart.’

‘And you pay …?’ asked Darine. Maeve met her eyes.

‘With the very things I am to defy.’

Darine slowly nodded as she took in Maeve’s skinny body, head to toe. Maeve saw the dark circles under the redhead’s eyes, and she also understood the toll her power would take.

‘Impressive,’ Darine said and sat in the grass.

‘Invaluable,’ Mindu whispered.

‘What do you want from me?’ Maeve demanded. She found newly born defiance by these two’s shenanigans.

The Stormwalker rested his hands on his knees and straightened in his seat.

‘I hoped you would have the answer.’

When the man did not give further explanation, Maeve shook her head helplessly. ‘I know not what you mean.’

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

‘Why are you here? What do you want from us? According to even my quite limited knowledge on Amrithean politics I do know I am surrounded by the Royal Hunters. Special Forces. I overheard one of your comrades mentioning “conquer” but that’s obviously folly.’

Honesty could not help, Maeve knew that much. She had never been good in lying either. She decided she would buy herself time.

‘You mentioned you hoped to find someone else. You meant a different Reborn. As if you had expected someone.’

‘Keen ears,’ Mindu nodded.

‘Who did you want to meet? I do not know any Reborn in Amrith, save—’

‘Save one particularly famous one. Or infamous, to be precise. Yes, Bryne told me he would visit Boar Isle a couple days after … well, you’ve seen the land yourself. After that.’

Maeve blinked.

‘Bryne? Told you?’

Mindu glimpsed at Darine, who shrugged, and picked violets from the grass. Maeve gestured toward the redhead suspiciously.

‘Who’s she? If I am to display trust, I need to know it works both ways.’

‘She’s Reborn, as I’ve told you. A rare privilege islanders are not known to have. Thus yes, I do regard her highly, and I would be a fool if I didn’t listen to her advice.’

‘Not like I don’t try to keep away from your ugly politics,’ Darine commented.

‘You are not here on Bryne’s bidding, are you?’ the Stormwalker turned back to Maeve.

Maeve instinctively shook her head and blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. ‘We wanted to negotiate the terms of peace. The war has already taken many lives on both sides.’

Certainly better than saying ‘Bryne’s son wanted us to wipe your tribe from this island.’

Mindu did not react.

‘Alas, we had difficulties with … coming ashore. We did not expect to see the complete desolation of Boar Isle.’

‘It’s not complete,’ Darine pointed around.

‘Because of the barrier.’ It was not a question. ‘At the river.’

‘Mhm,’ Mindu muttered, rubbing his temples. Maeve tried to organise her thoughts, she wanted to ask too much.

‘Bryne told you he would visit after … what, exactly? Had he known what fate would befall the isle?’

‘Perhaps. Perhaps he knew something bad would happen, but he did not expect the extent of this tragedy. He told me to leave the relic alone. To gather all the people from its proximity and bring them to safety. He told me it shouldn’t cause much trouble, but certain measures wouldn’t hurt.’

‘I am sorry Lord … uhm … Stormwalker, but I’m afraid I can’t follow you. What relic are we talking about?’

Mindu looked at her as if she asked why it is not snowing in the summer.

‘You’re Reborn, are you not?’ Darine asked. ‘Supposedly one of very few, maybe the only one in your … kingdom. Are you not close with your king?’

Maeve felt she blushed. ‘I wouldn’t say that, no.’

‘Those relics are the very reason that the people of Amrith are now divided to Royalists and Islanders, Rebels,’ Mindu explained. He paused for a moment, then sighed profoundly, his shoulders sinking, his whole posture collapsing. ‘You cannot be of help. I am truly sorry for disturbing your night, Maeve. Come, Darine.’

The Stormwalker stood, waved for Darine, and turned to leave when Maeve finally found her voice and said, ‘Wait!’

Mindu turned his head back, listening.

‘You do oppose this war, don’t you? We might be on the same side after all. I would like to help, but I cannot if I don’t know what help you need! I haven’t heard from Bryne for weeks now. I’ve been serving at his son’s side.’

Mindu stood quietly. Then shrugged and shook his head.

‘It does not matter anymore. Rest now, Maeve.’

The young woman remained sitting far longer after Mindu and Darine had disappeared into the night. Thoughts were racing inside her head, trying to make sense of the encounter.

It seemed Bryne knew of the destruction. It seemed he had expected it. He and Mindu in fact have met and discussed … something. Now that she gave it some thought she remembered hearing heated talks in court about relics and diggings on the isles.

Could it be connected to the stonework that was pulsing with the faelin?

She scoffed at herself. Of course it had to do with that! It could very well be that she was looking at the relic itself. Or whatever had remained from it.

What was this relic? Why did Bryne need it? What was the link between him and the Stormwalker? Was it Bryne who summoned the barrier?

And how did the living dead and those dreaded soldiers fit into the picture?

Sleep and dreams eluded her that night.

----------------------------------------

Tusk Ridge, as the Stormwalker had explained, was the name of the highest peaks on Boar Isle, entailing the entire highlands of the region. They walked countless miles before the terrain began to elevate and became more difficult. They followed no path in the morning, and only briefly touched the Main Road, which was entirely cobbled with huge slabs of stones, going against Maeve’s expectations. Not even South-Andoriel had cobbled avenues, and people seldom had the luxury of walking on anything between cities other than dirt roads. Maeve decided to see the islanders through different lenses going forward.

Now that the sun was well on its way to reach the horizon, Mindu led them to a narrow, winding path up the mountains. Although it did not look well-kept, Maeve could tell many people had been walking it recently. Footprints in the mud seemed fresh, the knee-high grass bent, branches of trees and bushes lay broken and tossed aside. She spotted crumbles of what she supposed was bread on several occasions, along with countless pieces of torn cloth, handkerchief, cords, and other small junk.

‘You are oddly silent today, Lady Maeve.’ Reynard stepped next to Maeve, his voice quiet. Amodh snorted on the girl’s other side.

‘I’ve only been appointed to her for three days now but even I know that silence is a natural state for the Lady.’

‘No, I just … couldn’t sleep well,’ Maeve shrugged, mildly annoyed by the Crownguard’s comment.

‘You might be in the minority with that, M’lady. The hunters seem ever so fresh.’

‘Mhm, about that …’ Maeve pointed at the front of the column with her head where Darine walked beside Mindu. ‘That girl. She’s Reborn.’

‘The redhead?’

‘Yes. She can put you to sleep with her voice.’

‘Impressive,’ whispered Amodh.

‘Son of a …’ muttered Reynard, lifting his bound hands to scratch his neck. ‘How do you know?’

‘We had an intriguing chat last night.’

Maeve informed the hunter captain on the encounter the night before. She spared no details and she only sighed when Reynard’s eyes widened at Bryne’s name.

‘I thought you could provide some insight on the king’s dealings.’

‘I had not the slightest of idea,’ the man mumbled, frowning at Mindu’s back. ‘I did know he had visited the isles a couple of times, but I’d never asked what really happened there. The relics was a topic everyone in court tried to avoid in his presence. Many opposed the idea of seizing parts of these islands, huge parts of lands, only to excavate some ancient stones none knew a thing about.’

Maeve jerked her head up at the word stone.

‘What are these relics?’

‘Damned if I know. Bryne wasn’t particularly generous with sharing information on his plans.’

‘You’re the leader of the Special Forces!’ Maeve lashed out, frustrated. ‘How don’t you know anything?’

She felt humiliated about a particular thing Darine said to her the previous eve, and she needed to cope with it somehow—even if it meant immediate regret over her words.

Reynard was clearly taken aback by her sudden rebuke, no less than the others. He bit his lips, then cleared his throat.

‘I understand we are in a difficult situation, Lady Maeve. But fighting over something out of our control won’t help.’

I really need to learn to think before I speak.

‘I’m sorry, Reynard. I’m … just—’

‘Not a problem.’

‘Why are your hands still bound?’ Nash asked Maeve suddenly. The Crownguard followed them from one step behind. ‘I see why he doesn’t want us all to roam free. But why you? You’re Reborn. If he needed one, you might help him.’

Maeve shrugged. ‘We did not become friends overnight. Besides, he already has a Reborn. He told me he had expected to meet Bryne. I …’ The Reborn shook her head helplessly. ‘I don’t think I can provide anything nearly as valuable as the king could.’

‘Merv!’

The shout came from the front. Reynard frowned, Amodh grinned widely. Maeve blinked, confused, when she saw Darine waving.

‘Come on, Reborn one! Pace up!’

‘It’s Maeve,’ the girl murmured after she quickly closed to the redhead girl.

‘Apologies,’ Darine said with a shrug. ‘I’ve been meaning to talk with you.’

Maeve stared at her in silence.

‘Yes, I guess it’s gonna be quite the talk,’ the redhead scoffed.

‘Will you tell me what you want?’

‘Come, walk with me.’

Darine sped up, soon leaving the group behind.

‘Where are you running?!’

‘Move!’

Maeve followed her reluctantly, she only turned back once to see Mindu giving them an approving nod in the middle of a discussion with one of his men.

The path kept crawling up the mountain, through a scarce grove of dreampines. Maeve felt ever so fascinated by the look of these bright blue trees.

‘You’re the first Reborn I can talk with,’ Darine began.

‘Your loss,’ Maeve murmured. The redhead girl chuckled incredulously.

‘Your self-esteem must not be too high.’

‘It’s healthy, thanks.’

‘With a pinch of self-destructive sarcasm. Whatever suits you.’

‘Stop this stupid lecturing, you don’t even know me. What do you want to talk about?’

‘You,’ Darine said without slowing down. ‘Me. Us. The faelin, Boar Isle, everything.’

‘Do you really think it is the time to befriend each other?’

‘It should be. I have an itching sense which tells me the next couple of days are gonna be living hell on this island.’ It already is. ‘In difficult times, keep to your own, right?’

‘I don’t think this conversation have much sense.’

Darine stopped and pulled a dagger from her belt. Maeve frowned and took a step back, but Darine leapt to her, grabbed her wrists, and cut the rope binding them with one quick slash.

‘There. When did you find out you’re Reborn?’

‘Why is that important?’ Maeve stretched her arms, feeling grateful for the freedom they regained.

‘I’m curious whether you had a mentor.’

‘I didn’t.’

‘Good! Now you have one.’ Darine turned and continued to stride higher on the path.

‘What? Wait!’

The path took a sharp turn at a steep cliff. Darine stopped and beckoned Maeve. Down, several turns past she saw their group approaching slowly, Mindu and Reynard walking beside each other, both looking stern. Further down Maeve saw the wide, green ocean of grass stretching far beyond her vision. Dusk was settling down, and the deep red shades of the sky invoke memories in Maeve …

… of the burning Royal Fleet.

‘You wouldn’t think at all from here that the land is actually dead,’ she murmured.

‘It’s not dead. Marred. But not dead.’

‘Hethlaw doesn’t strike me as an Islander name. How did you end up here?’

‘Maeve also falls far from being a local name. You have your story, I have mine.’

‘It’s unusual for settlers to live on the islands.’

‘But not unprecedented. Do you really believe no Andorieli or Temdathean live on Serpent Isle? Neraki? Undhra?’ Darine scoffed. ‘You use the word settlers as if Amrith had been unpopulated or barren before your arrival.’

‘What’s this mentor thing you’ve said?’ asked Maeve to steer the conversation to a more pleasant subject. Or to a less uncomfortable one.

‘Mindu and I’ve been talking. Reborn are invaluable, it is pretty rare that one just walks into your homeland. So, I will try to train you. Your potential—’

‘Pardon me when I say it’s nonsense. Every single Reborn is different. The way you use your power is unique.’

‘You couldn’t be further from the truth,’ Darine shook her head. ‘It’s the faelin you touch, and it will always be the faelin. I won’t teach you how to heal better. I will attempt to help you in using the power in a more diverse way. You couldn’t even sense that I was around. Did you even feel the essence when I sang?’

‘I did,’ Maeve said, blushing.

‘Believe me I have better things to do. I’m not that teacher-type person. There’ll be cases when you won’t understand my explanation and both of us will be frustrated. It is what it is. But it’s gonna help you in the long run. I hope.’

‘I don’t understand one thing,’ Maeve said when they began climbing uphill once again. ‘Why doesn’t Mindu let us go? We are of twenty or so. Wouldn’t wreak havoc on the island. In fact, we would be leaving as soon as possible.’

‘If there’s only one thing you don’t understand about this situation, you are one lucky bastard. Mindu won’t let you go for obvious reasons. And the hunters? I guess you’re aware of the rumours surrounding them. The Stormwalker likes it when odds are on his side.’

‘Then we are prisoners, after all.’

‘Prisoners alive. Better than free dead-men. Boar Isle would consume you in no time.’

‘Do you even know what’s happening on the other side of the isle?’ Maeve stopped and looked Darine in the eye. ‘Who came to your shores?’

Darine remained silent. She looked to the horizon, watching as darkness was creeping through the land.

‘It’s not happening only on the other side of the island,’ she said quietly. Maeve shivered at the sorrow in her voice.

‘What happened?’

‘Three ships in the North. Anchored by Inghoka, a city by the sea. They came ashore and attacked. Reports said the city stood against them, but the dead were piling up by the time the battle was over. Many fled because they feared another attack may come.’

‘Were there any … unusual … descriptions about the soldiers?’

‘Red scale armours, giants in their ranks, flying reptiles, invincible troops.’ Darine studied Maeve’s face. ‘I believe the reports may exaggerate a bit.’

‘A bit,’ Mave nodded, ‘but not much. There are indeed giants among their ranks. If they attacked from the North as well—’

‘Those are dead. Who are they? At first, I thought the Royalists wanted to end this war for good.’

‘I assure you they are not from Amrith.’ The memory of the dead waking appeared before Maeve’s eyes. ‘No kingdom fights under banner with red snake eyes.’

They fell silent.

Soon Maeve heard sounds of distant racket. Looking up, she saw flickering spots of light among the dark blue pines, two or three hundred yards away.

‘What’s that?’

‘This is Tusk Ridge,’ Darine answered, smiling. That smile seemed genuine, and Maeve, confused and astounded as she was, found the benign look on Darine’s face oddly heartwarming.

‘Does that mean we can rest?’ The smile proved to be catching, even when Maeve thought about her aching legs.

‘Rest, eat, drink, even dance if you want to!’

A shriek pierced through the thick, silent greyness of the sky, a shriek so sharp and sinister Maeve wanted to hide. She turned; her eyes scanned the sky for clues—it took her only a second to spot it.

A dark silhouette flew across the dim firmament, a silhouette of a winged reptile with no forelegs. Its batlike wings languidly flapped on occasions, as the shadow of a man on its back, its rider, leant to the side from the beast’s back.

A second shriek broke from the creature’s throat, this time from much closer, much more aggressively. The monster took a turn above the rocks and cliffs, shrieked again, and flew closer to the lights.

Maeve looked at Darine. Even in the thickening darkness she could see her face turning pale.

‘Is that … is that a fucking dragon?’