Chapter 122

The air was hotter and dryer here but not desiccated like a desert.

Riley reasoned they had to be closer to the planet's equator, but that did little for her paws.

If she stopped too long, the heat in the off-white paving stones would catch up with her, afflicting her with hot feet that kept her moving.

The heat and the constant jolts of near or actual minor pain worked with her fatigue and the slow setting in of soreness from the day's battle, adding to her sense of overwhelmed exhaustion.

Once again, the world had tilted violently, becoming something unrecognizable and strange.

Thick spices drifted across the air, setting her nose to twitch and itch, while new languages arrived at her ears, garbled before finding their way to words within her brain.

"Where exactly are we going?" Riley asked for the third time.

They were moving under veil, avoiding the strange creatures that dominated this place.

It was clear they were far from home.

The dracovani roamed about, appearing as bipedal dragons of an impressive size, the smallest among them towering nearly seven feet in height. They moved in tight clusters of three females, the largest leading the smaller, most with a retinue of no more than five males that gaggled behind them.

The males were the slimmer and smaller of the two sexes here, adorned scantily in bright colors, wearing only loincloths that left little to question about their masculinity, barely hidden by loose-fitting cloth.

Their tails were long and slender, and many wore cosmetic powders on their face and down their arms, accenting the iridescent color of their scales.

Riley could feel the stress like a cord ratcheting ever tighter around her chest, reinforced by the strong sense of danger and outright fear from Tobias that kept her suspended somewhere between terror and wonder, which kept her eyes forward on the task and the hot, burning stones.

"I think towards help," Tobias said, finally.

"How do you know? We don't even know where we are, and... Ow! Damn!" She quickened her pace, trying to utilize Tobias as shade while they crossed a particularly sunny patch.

A wide and crowded marketplace stretched out before them with nary a human to be seen, but the dracovani were everywhere, and it seemed, enjoyed a less rigid social structure than the Ashenrealm. There were no torcs and little distinction between commoner and elite beyond jeweled adornments and the finery of what little clothes or armor they wore.

The women seemed to prize their armor, with the more affluent wearing shining plate mail and swords whose hilts gleamed, showcasing artful filigree, while the males seemed to prefer large jewels hanging from pendants or gleaming headdresses with silver wire.

"Those winged ones, how do you think they get their armor on?" Riley puzzled, her wonder distracting her from the distracted Tobias.

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"Carefully, I'd wager, but to answer your earlier question: When in doubt, look for the spire of a cathedral. The religion of the Thirteen Gods is everywhere, which means a little bit of home is everywhere," Tobias explained as if by rote.

"God, you're programmed," she scoffed as Tobias suppressed a laugh, all while dodging another cadre of giant, bipedal reptile people.

"Tell me who isn't a product of their environment and the culture they were raised in? Do you think you're any different, little Miss Perfect, with your ideas of equality and democracy and all that nonsense?" he challenged without meanness.

"It's different for me because I know I'm right," she shot back with mocking pride.

"Oh, ho. You're an imperialist, who knew?" Tobias accused as he looked up and then turned down another lane.

"Tell me again about the Ashen Wars," Riley shot back as they exited the market, which meant less chance to be stepped on, but were back in the winding streets and twisted lanes.

Very few roads seemed to run straight to Riley's recent experience, but for the first time, she saw it. A tall spire with a crystal apex. A bit of the Ashenrealm, like an outpost of familiarity in a strange and distant land.

It took another ten minutes to find it, but finally, a familiar, if small, building came into view that was part cathedral, part New England church, and part fortress.

Tobias broke into a quick jog, moving up the steps. "Riley, hold the veil until we're on the inside. We don't know who may be watching."

"You're nervous," she observed.

"We're military assets in a nonaligned country. We're on friendly terms with the Dracovani, but we're not allies. There's never been a need. I have no idea how they'd react to us being here," Tobias sighed.

Riley scanned around, "Maybe they'd understand. It's not like portals aren't known. It's not like we meant for this to happen,"

There had been no time to plan, only move, as the hunt had become a crisis.

"Do we really want to tell a neutral nation that there's a potential doorway, even if unstable, right to the heart of our capital city? I can see multiple ways that could go, none of them good. Now, can we get inside and off the street?" He snapped, the exhaustion and annoyance wringing out his patience.

Riley got it and flattened her ears. "Of course. Am I too trusting? How can I be too trusting?"

"You're naive, at least about Calaria, but that's because you're new," Tobias knelt down, taking the time to pet back her ears as Riley pressed up against him.

His black armor radiated the heat back into her already baking fur as she caught the scent of the sweat pouring off him.

"Are there any other races besides human and Dracovani?" Riley asked.

"Just the dwarves and the elves," Tobias replied, opening the door, and a thick burst of cooler air, scented with incense, washed over them, a benefit of the burning braziers up near the altar and the thick stones by which the cathedral was constructed.

"Dwarves...Huh...." Riley considered, grateful to be out of the heat. This cathedral was the smallest one Riley had visited, not much bigger than a country church, with its two banks of pews numbering five rows total. Three paths led to the altar, all straight, one up the center and one on either side.

Small stained glass windows, six on each side, paid tribute to the thirteen Gods of the Ashenrealm.

The place seemed empty, other than the smoking incense; there was not a human to be seen.

Tobias neared the backmost pew, then kneeled in respect before rising, cutting down the row, and making his way up the church's right side.

His intentions were clear as a small wooden door came into Riley's view.

"Hello, Father, are you in?" Tobias called out, wrapping on the door quietly.

The sound of snoring, followed by a surprised snorting, came through the door.

"Wha? What what! A visitor? Uh... Yes! Yes, my son, come in!" The voice was grandfatherly, wavering with old age.

Tobias opened the door, his eyes falling on a man and an office that looked like a museum piece. Old scrolls occupied dusty shelves. An ancient and weathered human sat behind a chaotic desk, wearing black robes and a golden torc.

He barely fit inside his clothes. His wrinkled skin was drawn in some places and saggy in others, matching well with his deep-set eyes and long but heavily thinned gray hair that spilled down to his neckline.

Around his neck was a gold chain, fastened to a crystal torc, the lines latched to the tines so that it always pointed up.

"I'm Father Thelfrith, my son, but what business do the Rangers have with me?" he asked with trembling hands.

"I need your help, Father. We fell through a portal and arrived here by accident. We need help to get home," Tobias said with all the seriousness his position granted him.

"Oh dear, you better sit down and tell me what you can about it," the Father said, motioning to a chair.