Chapter 16 – A Moment’s Respite

Tara couldn’t believe it. After what had just happened, it seemed incredible that Acalon had nothing more to say than, “Well done.” His posture and attitude invited some kind of retaliation, and breathing hard through her bitten lips, Tara wished she had the brains to give it to him. But she was speechless.

A flash of blue light made her cringe back. Oh for goodness’ sake, no, she thought, remembering the whooshing sensation of being sucked into Shieldmistress Altheria’s serene domain.

This time, she wasn’t carried away. This time, the blue light formed giant words that might have been impressive if they weren’t so ill-timed.

YOU’VE LEVELED UP

And seconds later, the message blazed to light:

TROPHY EARNED: TOOTH AND CLAW

“What in all the—?” Acalon took a step back, leaning his weight defensively on his left foot with his hand hovering near his knife. “What is that?”

Tara appreciated his imbalance, however brief. She sat among the bones of the dead grimp, knowing she couldn’t stand up even if she wanted to.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears, as if it were coming from far away. “Why did you come, Acalon? Did you want to see me fail?”

Immediately, the dark eyes between Acalon’s cap and his face covering narrowed to scrutinize her. Of course she’d triggered his suspicion. She wasn’t supposed to know anything about him, least of all his name and where he was supposed to be.

“Or did you think you were doing me a favor by just standing there?” asked Tara, bracing herself on her arms as she tried to pull herself away from the gross remains of the grimp. “You were only teaching me to survive. Is that it?”

“Do you think I wronged you, warrior?” said the dragon rider, the hiss in his voice distinct. “I could have left you to die. Is that what I was ‘supposed’ to do?”

Tara would have given a lot to challenge him the way she wanted to. She was angry, hurting, frightened, and weak all at once. Was she dying from blood loss or another injury that worsened over time? She wasn’t sure.

If she died, she wondered if she would lose the points she had earned that made her level up. Either way, she hoped Shieldmistress Altheria wouldn’t mind her complaining, because she needed someone to vent to.

But all that would have to come later. For now, all she really wanted to do was sleep…

Tara wasn’t aware that she slipped into unconsciousness. She felt oddly peaceful, like she was just waking up.

Juliana, I had the weirdest dream last night…

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Acalon moved forward as the young woman slumped to one side. He lifted her on his arm, pulling one glove free to check the pulse in her neck, and pinched the vein lightly between his fingers.

Was she more injured than he had first suspected? There was something odd, not to say off-putting, about this woman. He wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t know herself when she was seriously hurt.

He was pleased by a rapid heartbeat.

So she wasn’t dead. Not yet.

The dragon rider lifted Tara, grunting slightly at the stress her weight put on his injured leg. The wound wasn’t serious, but it could have been. Grimps were dangerous enemies, especially in large numbers. Acalon had never even noticed the one coming behind him, who could easily have killed him if it hadn’t been for this woman who seemed to fancy herself a warrior.

What did she mean when she said, “You’re not supposed to be here?”

Acalon couldn’t suppress a tremor. Something in those words disturbed him in a way he wasn’t used to. He didn’t understand, but after what he had seen and heard, he knew there was more to this woman than he had previously imagined. He didn’t appreciate the mystery surrounding her. There was too much mystery a the moment, in the unusual disturbances in the sky and the murmurings from almost everyone about some great doom closing on their land.

Even the Skor on their lonely cliffs were effected by the strangeness of the times. The dragons had become restless and withdrawn, less willing to leave their caves for the open air. The emergence of a third moon had caused the sea to rise, and some were saying that if a fourth moon was born, and a fifth, the world would drown.

Acalon did not like to speculate on what could happen. He only knew what was. He could not say that these mysteries pleased him. He did not like to dread the future, and refused to indulge his increasing doubts.

Limping out of the cave where they had killed the grimps, Acalon was glad to be under the sky again. The moons were no longer visible, having long since passed their height. He couldn’t see the dragon, but he knew from some inner sense that Fenryx was not far.

He called to the dragon and felt Fenryx’s answer immediately. The dragon was coming. Good.

Dragon-calling was not an art that was learned by dragon riders—it was a gift that was given. The ability to call a dragon depended only on a dragon’s favor. If a dragon considered someone a “friend,” they were able to summon it through a mental link that was neither verbal nor pure sentiment. The reason why few such links existed was because no one apart from the Skor considered the risk worthwhile. Many people had died attempting to befriend dragons.

Acalon sat down heavily, glad to take the strain off his leg. He gathered stems and leaves from the dry shrubs nearby to build a small fire. The flame enchantment that he had applied to his sword, purchased at a high price from a gnome peddler, was only temporary. His dagger blades still glowed with low flame, but were no longer so bright as they had been at first use.

Due to their high quality, the enchanted flames were damaging only to enemies, but capable of being used to ignite other substances as needed. The tinder was blazing soon and Acalon felt the welcoming relief of the fire’s warmth.

Fenryx alighted at a distance. Acalon was grateful for the dragon’s caution, knowing how the force of the beast’s landing could easily blow out his small fire. Even from a distance, the impact slightly imbalanced him.

Acalon glanced at Tara, but she was still unconscious.

“Did you finish the grimps?” asked Acalon, and Fenryx’s satisfaction was his answer. “Good.”

He felt a question he did not hear. Fenryx wanted to know what had happened in his absence.

“This woman,” said Acalon. “There is something strange about her. I cannot place what it is.” There was grim humor in his next observation. “The first time we met, I sensed this strangeness. Do you feel it too?”

The dragon’s nostrils flared briefly red. He was closer to Acalon and Tara now, stretching carefully beside them, his half-stretched wing providing shelter against the open winds.

“Do you know what became of her companions?” asked Acalon. “The ones you saw her separate from?”

The dragon’s answer gave him an impression of safeness.

Good. At least the only death tonight had been on the grimps’ side.

In the meantime, he would do what he could in looking after Tara’s wounds and his own. He kept a chest of provisions on Fenryx’s back. The massive dragon had no problem carrying both him and his supplies. Indeed, Acalon believed Fenryx was capable of carrying much more.

He was rising when Tara suddenly opened her eyes. One hand lifted towards her aching head and she blinked at the light from Acalon’s fire.

“I need a break,” she said.

And just like that, in a rush of strange light, she disappeared.