Their ambush site wasn't at the mouth of the canyon. It was a few hundred paces further up, just past a bend in the canyon's path.

Faelon was nestled up against the cliffside, staying as out of sight as a mature red dragon could hope to. As it turned out, he was quite difficult to see. The trees and the rock wall did wonders at concealing his bulk.

As soon as they felt the delerion's influence, he would spring out and turn the choke point into an inferno, then push forward to make absolutely sure the beast was dead. Meanwhile, Aytin's job was similar to that of a small bird in a mineshaft. As soon as he started babbling about flying through the oceans or cities made of gold or some other nonsense, Faelon would know that their prey was near. Then Aytin could stand back and let the dragon do his job.

Now, if only they could get it over with.

"We should have raided the cache first."

"We did not know if there would be time. And there is nothing there to help us."

"Yeah," Aytin admitted. "But it would be nice to maybe have a few more arrows, at least."

He idly fingered the single shaft he had left in his belt quiver. His spear was also nearby, leaning against a rock, but if he was close enough to use it, the delerion had better be dead.

Almost seeming to mimic Aytin's thoughts, Faelon said, "If you need to use your bow, things have gone terribly wrong."

"But didn't you tell me earlier that plans always go wrong?"

"I believe I did." There was a hint of a smile on the dragon's face.

Neither of them stopped scanning the trees as they talked. Every once in a while, Faelon's nostrils would flare as he took a deep sniff. Aytin tried as well, but he didn't have the experience to pick anything out from the smells of the forest.

It was early afternoon, but the steep canyon walls meant they were hidden by shadow. Which was all well and good for the ambush, but the cool weather and lack of sun were hell on the cold blooded dragonette.

"A fire would be nice."

"And the smoke would give us away."

"It's not like it can't hear us, anyway. Wouldn't a fire make us less suspicious?"

Faelon huffed. "It is a beast, not a brigand." After a moment, he added, "Is it that cold?"

"I'll be alright. I'm just not used to this, you know? It feels like winter." Bundled in salvaged clothes as he was, Aytin could function. But his muscles were starting to feel just a little bit sluggish.

"Come here." The red dragon shifted his wing slightly. The motion swept a patch of ground at his side clear of dead leaves and branches.

Aytin moved and gratefully settled down against the dragon. The fire in his belly radiated warmth that drove the lethargy away.

"Be prepared to move when I tell you."

"I will." Aytin didn't want to get in the way of a dragon's charge.

His new position did make it harder to see, but that wasn't why he was there. Aytin was the trap's bait, not its teeth.

Although, it wasn't quite that bad. After so much exposure, he was getting better at recognizing the delerion's influence. He thought so, at least. But he still kept talking, just to be sure.

"You said you met Reed's mother Ivy when she was just starting off on her own. Did you have another crew before that?"

"She was my first trading partner."

"Oh, what did you do before that?"

Faelon wasn't one of the ancient red behemoths by any stretch, but judging by his size he was at least over the two century mark. Possibly even older. Even if Ivy had started her career exceptionally young, that still left the dragon with decades of adulthood before he met her.

But the dragon didn't answer right away. In fact, Aytin could feel the great muscles tensing slightly beneath him.

"I was in the royal guard," he finally admitted.

That was a prestigious post. One that paid well and had many opportunities for dragon and dragonette alike. Aytin knew it wasn't unusual for dragons to serve for decades or even a century or two before retiring to other pursuits.

"So what made you decide to become a trader? I thought a lot of reds spent their entire lives in the guard."

"Some do."

"But- oh." Faelon's tone finally registered and Aytin shut his mouth with an audible clack.

He hunted for some change of subject, but nothing seemed to present itself. Meanwhile, he could feel muscles clenching and relaxing beneath him, like the dragon was getting ready to pounce.

To his surprise, it was Faelon who broke the silence.

"I lost my crew."

"I'm... I'm sorry." Aytin could feel the massive heart pounding against him. When Faelon didn't say anything, he ventured, "What happened?"

"I killed them."

"You..." Aytin's eyes went wide as he stared up at the dragon.

Faelon refused to meet his gaze, instead keeping his head turned out towards the canyon entrance.

"It was all I could do," he said, his deep voice barely a whisper. Aytin felt the words more than heard them.

"They were green, most of them. But Lieutenant Taelor and Sergeant Zeph were experienced. We had been together for more than a decade. Patrols and escort duty. Three years in a mid-sized keep a week's flight northeast of the capital. More years as part of the capital garrison. They were... they were very good years." A hitch forced Faelon to clear his throat, but he pressed on.

"We had just been assigned as part of a small wing of scouts. Banditry had been reported along a section of the frontier, and we were ordered to stamp it out.

"We flew from settlement to settlement for weeks. Traders continued to go missing while we found no sign of their ambushers. So we made the decision to split our wing up. After all, what could some brigands do against trained members of the royal guard?

"Apparently I never learned that lesson," Faelon added, his tone becoming even darker. There was a grinding noise as he clenched his talons, leaving deep lines in rock and soil alike.

"It's alright, Faelon," Aytin said. He awkwardly patted the dragon's flank, not really knowing what else to do. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do. After what we have been through, you deserve to know. And... I need to tell someone. A handful of others remember the stories. But few truly know what happened on that day."

Aytin nodded slowly. "I think I understand."

"I believe you do. Or you will."

Faelon took a deep breath and continued. "I spotted a group of dragonettes approaching where there should be none. They wore armor and carried weapons. It was a small group, not even a match for my normal crew much less the reinforced complement I carried. Lieutenant Taelor agreed we should investigate.

"They turned away the instant they saw our approach, but shifted course towards the edge of the island minutes later. Even in armor, I was faster, and they had no dragon of their own. Lieutenant Taelor believed that they had been fleeing towards their comrades and were seeking shelter in caves beneath the island when it became apparent that escape was impossible. And sure enough, the last of them disappeared into an ancient mineshaft just as I crossed the island's edge."

Throughout the tale, the stump of Faelon's left wing had been flexing involuntarily. Now it angled backwards, as if in a diving pursuit of the fleeing memories. He didn't seem to notice as he went on.

"Rather than wait for the group to disappear into the warren of tunnels some of these ancient mines host, Lieutenant Taelor decided we should follow on their tails. He wanted to capture one and force them to reveal the location of the main group. Sergeant Zeph disagreed. He said we should send for support. But he was overruled. I landed in the wide tunnel mouth, and immediately pushed into the depths."

When Faelon didn't continue, Aytin asked softly, "It was a trap?"

"Yes."

"But why? Why would a bunch of brigands-"

"They were not brigands. It was a band of darklings."

Aytin's eyes widened and his ears flicked back in involuntary shock.

"They covered themselves in chalk so we would not realize what they were until it was too late," Faelon explained. "We had reached a cross-tunnel and the crew had moved forward to scout when the roof of the tunnel collapsed. Whatever method they used, they timed it perfectly to trap me in the rubble. A few of the crew were buried as well. The rest were swarmed by darklings emerging from disguised alcoves.

"It was not even a fight. Focused to the front with weapons and shields angled ahead, they scarcely had time to realize they were under attack before the enemy was among them. I do not believe even Zeph managed to spill a drop of blood before he was beaten into submission."

It was obvious what was going to come next. "Oh, gods, no."

"They were most certainly not there that day." Faelon's words went beyond bitter. "I was forced to watch, struggling against an island's weight on my back as the crew was dragged up the tunnel.

"It was confusing. Many of the attackers were still disguised and it was dark. I thought these were rebels who wanted royal guards as prisoners to compel some sort of demand or ransom. I only realized the truth when I caught a glimpse of their leader's glowing red eyes staring back from a distant tunnel. Before I could burn the witch to ash, it had disappeared.

"I tried anyway. The flames splashed harmlessly against the bend. I tried until the air was stale and I was gasping for breath. I struggled until my hide was torn and bloody and my talons broke, but it was too much.

"And the whole time I could hear its insane laugh echoing back to me. It laughed loud enough to be heard over the screams of the crew. As they were silenced, one after another.

"They saved Lieutenant Taelor for last. I could hear the offer it made him. I believe I was meant to. It told him that he could keep his mind and continue to lead his crew if he donned a set of cursed armor and took up the mantle of a dark knight.

"He told them to drown in hell. His screams..." Faelon's voice caught, and he had to try again. "His screams were louder and longer than any of the others'.

"And then it spoke to me."

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A shudder went through the dragon. His breaths were coming faster now.

"It used magic to speak to me. It offered me power and rewards if I joined willingly. And it told me that I would serve one way or another."

His jaws ground together hard enough to crush boulders.

Aytin couldn't imagine what it must have been like. 'That could have been my family's fate. Captured and corrupted. And what could darklings do with unhatched eggs?' He shuddered at the thought.

Faelon had paused once more. When it became obvious the dragon was lost in his dark memory, Aytin asked, "How did you make it out?"

He got a sigh in return. "Luck. In my struggles, I must have shifted the rockslide. When the witch delivered its offer, I redoubled my efforts. Only rather than pushing to reach my crew, I was scrambling to escape. The rocks slid away and I could move.

"The witch must have used a hidden side passage to get behind me. It was there, painting some sort of dark symbols on the tunnel floor and surrounded by a crowd of darklings. I recognized the armor on many of them. The weapons that they carried. Sergeant Zeph's broken horn.

"And I burned them all."

There was silence between them, broken only by the whistle of wind through the canyon. Faelon looked like he had been carved out of some enormous block of red stone. He was staring out at the forest, not moving and clearly not seeing anything.

Aytin stood and walked around the dragon until he was standing directly in front of his massive breast. Faelon did not move a muscle, save his chest. It rose and fell in irregular spasms.

"Faelon," he said, reaching up with one hand. The dragon jerked when it came to rest on his neck. He looked down at the dragonette, nostrils flared and jaw clamped shut. "Faelon," Aytin repeated. "I... I can't imagine what you're feeling. But I think I know what it took for you to trust me with that memory. Thank you."

He gave Faelon's bulk a gentle shake; no more than a mouse might give a dragonette.

But the dragon dipped his head in a silent nod. He opened his maw and took an enormous breath. The breeze when he exhaled set the grass waving like a windstorm. Then he returned to his vigil, and Aytin returned to his.

It felt like saying anything would ruin the somber moment, but Aytin knew they had to keep talking. And so he asked, "Will you be alright?"

"I have relived that day in my sleep countless times over the decades. I will be fine."

"But how many times have you shared it?"

"Three," he replied. "Once to Colonel Lidel and her staff. Once to Ivy and then to Reed. You are the fourth."

"I... see. Thank you. I'll keep your secret."

Faelon turned to regard him. "It is no secret. It never was and it certainly is not now."

"Then why-"

"The more people who knew, the more questions they asked. That will not be a problem anymore."

Once again, the frank way that Faelon referenced his death made Aytin wince. He wanted to try and talk the dragon out of it. Needed to. There had to be some argument to convince him to abandon revenge and slip off into the woods.

They could survive for years together. And once Xantha and the brigands were gone, they could try to signal help. Nightly bonfires, stones arranged into messages big enough to be spotted from the air.

Who knew? Maybe with enough study he could find something in Zan's journal to heal his wing. Then he could fly for help. The last island they had been to was only a few hours away on dragonback. With some preparation, he could make that flight.

"I think..." he began, but trailed off. The ideas that made so much sense in his mind didn't want to become words. "I think if you just..."

Aytin paused once more. 'Just what?' What had he been about to say? 'Something about... flying?!'

"Faelon, I think it's here."

He could recognize the presence, now that he knew what to look for. And it was getting stronger.

"I feel it too," the dragon replied. "A... buzzing. In my mind."

The forest took on a weird double vision effect. It was still there, but at the same time the shadows below began to twist and ripple, becoming a maze of caves with red eyes shining from within.

Faelon rose slowly, carefully, into a half crouch while Aytin backed away. He was careful to stay clear of the massive red tail that twitched back and forth. The cliff was at his back as he retreated, and the feel of it alternated between the rough crumbling surface he remembered and the slimy gullet of some massive corrupted beast.

It was getting harder to distinguish between the real and hallucinations. The darkness was growing, pushing against the world Aytin's eyes showed him. Foreign thoughts bubbled through his head like it was a tankard of ale.

Words were becoming difficult. Twice, he opened his mouth only for nothing to come out, before finally managing, "It cloak- close. It's... close."

That was all Faelon needed.

The shadows boiled away under scorching dragonfire. Where moments before there had been a chill in the air, now even shielded as Aytin was, it felt like he was standing under a midsummer sun.

Instantly, Aytin's mind cleared. He could clearly see Faelon finish turning the narrow canyon into a furnace. The slight breeze redoubled, now a whistling draft that fed the flames, driving them towards the river.

Faelon pushed forward along the empty creek bed that ran through the center of the canyon.

Red dragons could handle fire and heat, but enough could overwhelm their resistance. The blaze he had started might be too much even for him. And he needed to breathe, just like everything else.

So Faelon kept to the cleared areas as much as possible as he stalked forward. Every once in a while, he let loose with a jet of fire. The breath weapon, so much hotter and more concentrated than ordinary flames, would reduce the target to cinders.

Something moved within the flames. A great winged beast exploded outwards and upwards, flying straight towards the heavens.

"Faelon!"

The shout was involuntary. There was no way the dragon could have missed it. And, yet, he didn't seem to notice. Instead, he kept pushing forward, deeper into the flames.

"Faelon!" he yelled, louder this time. But there was no response.

Which was... wrong...

Aytin's heart dropped into his stomach. 'It's still here!'

There was no way. Absolutely no way it could have survived the flames. Was it behind them, closer to the river? 'No, if it could reach that far, I'd never have even caught a glimpse of it last night.'

He tightened his grip on his bow and scanned the area. Nothing could have hidden between him and the flames. Unless it was an illusion? But Aytin found that he could easily differentiate between reality and the flashes of hallucination. Almost as if they were weaker than before, their source further away.

Something caught his eye on the edge of the far cliffside. It was difficult to see, but a dark silhouette moved against the smoke-clouded sky.

'That... I think that's real!' Aytin was sure of it. And the black, quadrupedal figure matched his memories from the previous night.

Cunning, Faelon had called it. Cunning enough to anticipate their trap, and set its own. Even now it was pacing the dragon as he pushed deeper into the flames. Perhaps far enough to be dangerous.

There wasn't time to plan. Aytin ran for the far side of the canyon, slinging his bow around his shoulder as he went. Whether from panic or the influence of the delerion, the dragonette leaped the final distance, extending his wings and beating hard.

Instantly, searing pain shot through both membranes. For a split second, he was back there, Xantha standing over him, glowing knife in hand. Then reality reasserted itself as he slammed into the rock wall and scrambled for purchase.

Showers of scree fell as he dug talons into soft, crumbling rock. One hand came loose as the root he latched onto tore free, but the rest held. With a grimace, he reached up with his free hand and began to climb.

Without a magical sense of balance, Aytin would have ended up broken and bleeding at the cliff-bottom any of half a dozen times. More chunks of rock gave way. In one place, there were no hand holds and he was forced to edge along until he found a new route. He even found himself reaching for a knotted rope, only to realize at the last instant that there was nothing there.

Despite it all, he fairly flew up the cliff. It was a matter of seconds before he pulled himself over one final ledge and onto the plateau above.

His lungs burned and heart hammered, but Aytin forced himself to his knees and then his feet.

The delerion was there, a short, blackened shape staring down into the canyon below. Beyond it, clouds of smoke tried to shift into monsters and demons.

Aytin ignored the hallucinations. He pulled his single arrow from where it was stuffed in his belt and nocked it.

The range was long. Not beyond that of a skilled archer, but well past the point he could guarantee a hit. Especially in the state he was in.

It hadn't noticed him yet, apparently still intent on Faelon. He could close the distance, unobserved.

Aytin crept forward, balancing speed and stealth. And as he moved, reality began to twist around him.

It was easy to ignore at first. A direwolf prowled out of a rock to snarl at him. A sudden wave of sweet smelling cider splashed across the cliff to wash it away. Thoughts suggested themselves to him. That he should fly back to the keep to get his missing knife. Or if he only called out, a squadron of royal guard would be there in moments.

Aytin managed to unravel the real from the hallucinations. It took effort, but at this point he had practice. He could tell the subtle differences between what he saw and what the magic was telling his mind.

But as he closed the distance, that was getting harder.

His vision swam. Suddenly, where the delerion had stood a moment before, there was a tall, white armored dragonette with a copper band around one horn. A huntress.

It was Lin. Lin was standing there on the cliff edge. She turned and smiled at him, like she was overjoyed to see him there, aiming an arrow at her stomach. And... and Aytin couldn't remember why that was wrong.

"Tintin!" she exclaimed, and held her arms out for him.

Aytin relaxed his grip and let the bow point to the ground. He felt his own grin mirror his sister's as he got ready to meet her embrace.

The world faded for a moment. Superimposed with his sister was a four-legged black beast, turning to regard him with hate-filled eyes. An angry line of red marred its flank, a token from their last meeting.

Rage ignited inside of Aytin's chest, with the burning intensity of one of Faelon's breaths. His bow snapped up of its own volition, pointed right at the delerion's chest as he snarled, "Fuck... you..."

He loosed the arrow. And this time, it flew true.

Lin's visage popped like a soap bubble. One instant she was there, the next, it was gone. In its place, the delerion let out an otherworldly spitting howl of rage and pain. The scream quickly died in a wet, choking cough as blood flooded its lungs.

Teeth bared, ears pegged back, Aytin sprinted forward. His hand fell to his hunting knife and he drew it just in time to plunge the blade into the delerion's still heaving chest.

Red, mammalian blood gushed from the wound, and Aytin stabbed it again. And again. It screeched once more, in animalistic pain. The scream ended when the knife found its throat. A gush of ruby blood soaked the dragonette before diminishing to a trickle as its heart ceased to beat.

Aytin stood, panting and looking down at the corpse. His hands shook as he wiped his blade on his filthy shirt.

It was over.

"Not yet."

The dark voice of corruption whispered through Aytin's mind. He jumped, whirling, hunting frantically for its source. There was nothing on the wind swept wasteland of icy rock and snow. Below him, the delerion melted into a black tar that covered his talons. The darkness began to spread, climbing his legs and leaving the ashen scales of a darkling in its wake.

"Noooo..." Aytin whimpered.

It... wasn't... real...

He pushed back against the fake vision. As if from a great distance, he could faintly hear Faelon calling for him. Things swam in and out of focus, replaced from one moment to the next. But through it all, he managed to pick out one thing. On the far side of the canyon, staring at him across the gap, was a second delerion.

Aytin tried to speak. He tried to call for Faelon. But under the full psychic assault of the beast, it was no use.

And it would be so easy to slip into the insane illogic of it all. An insidious voice whispered to him that he should just give in. It would be easier. Everything would make sense again.

"No. No! Gods, help me, no!"

For a brief moment, he pushed through the hallucinations. He could see the other delerion. It seemed close enough he could have hit it with a rock, much less an arrow. An arrow...

The other body was still there. It still had an arrow stuck in its side. Aytin's hands scrambled for the blood slicked shaft. It emerged with a sickening squelch, and black bugs flooded out from the wound to cover his arms. They... they weren't real.

But it didn't matter.

The shaft had hit bone. It was snapped, the iron point held on only by a few splinters of wood. Broken. Useless.

If an animal could feel joy, this one certainly did. Hallucination or reality, Aytin couldn't tell. He just knew that the beast seemed to smile malevolently at him, its two dark antennae waving in pleasure at the sight of its prey's futile struggle.

It was hard to tell which of them were more shocked when an arrow sprouted from its back.

The beast spun, illusions shattering as it prepared to fight or flee. Before it could take a single step, a blue and white blur flashed by.

When it passed, it left behind a short spear, buried deep into the delerion's flank. It took a stumbling step forward, then another. For a moment, the pressure returned to Aytin's mind and its eyes seemed to glow red.

But all at once, the light left the delerion's eyes. It collapsed, and its body tumbled from the cliff edge. The corpse had time to spin twice before it slammed into the ground with a crunch like wet fruit hitting firewood.

Aytin took an involuntary step back as the flying figure circled around and turned directly towards him. But at the last moment, the dragonette flared her wings. She came to a running stop less than an arm's length away from the frozen Aytin.

And there his savior stood, staring.