“I said I’m fine!” I said, and my anger finally gave voice to my words. It felt like a wave of fire had moved through me, and I wondered if this was how dragons controlled their own deadly breath.
I opened my eyes to see that I was once again lying down, and looking up at the thin, gauzy material of a light Daza tent. It seemed that this was becoming a regular occurrence. Huddled to one side of where I lay on a thick blanket was Naroba, Tamin, and Abioye, and all three of them were looking at me in surprise.
“Nari—?” Tamin whispered uncertainly.
“What?” I burst out, lifting myself up on my hands.
Naroba, however, had always been a keener sort of person to share her point of view. “Nari? I don’t think you know what fine is, right now.”
“What under the skies and stars do you mean by that?” I threw the edge of the blanket from me, standing up with ease. Whatever the strange sickness had been that had affected me – for now it had appeared to have totally disappeared as mysteriously as it had first arrived.
“Nari?” The tent flap was pulled back, and in rushed Montfre, who must have been responding to Tamin’s request. Montfre was between my age and Abioye – and the two young men were the closest thing that each had to a friend, I think. He was short and stocky, with platinum-white hair and strange, sharp gray eyes that only added to the aura of power that flowed from him. He looked worried as he looked from Tamin, Naroba, Abioye, to me.
“They seem to think I need to be treated like a baby,” I growled uncompromisingly as I pushed myself to my feet, very aware of my friends’ glances as they judged my movements and actions. “See?” I muttered under my breath, moving to grab one of the waterskins. “Not fainting. Not falling over. I’m absolutely fine.”
“I don’t think you should be treated like a baby,” Naroba pointed out. “And in fact, now that you seem well enough to resume – I think we should get this campaign moving, before Inyene’s monsters come back.”
The mechanical dragon attacks! I suddenly remembered. How could I have forgotten everything that I had seen so easily and quickly? “The mechanical dragons. Inyene has been sending them out against the Daza,” I said quickly, flinging the waterskin to the ground in my urgency and haste.
“I thought as much,” Naroba growled, already turning. “We need to move, now.”
And for once, I found myself in complete agreement with her.
“Little Sister,” I heard Ymmen say in my mind as I was busy helping pack up the tent and organize the marchers. Looking up, I could see that the black dragon was sitting on his haunches a little rise away, giving us humans the space we needed to break camp and get moving. It was always a joy to see him, but as I folded the last stretch of cloth and bound it tight with the woven hemp rope – I looked up again to see that the dragon had cocked his head to peer at me intently.
“Not you as well,” I sighed, finishing the task and moving across the grass towards him.
“Something is wrong, Little Sister,” I could hear Ymmen saying in my heart. He was speaking – or thinking – a little quieter than his usual, Bull Dragon, strong and confident self. His voice was so slight in the edges of my mind where he and I joined that I couldn’t even detect any of those impressions of frankincense and smoke that I got when our minds drew closer.
“Speak up, Wyrm!” I laughed loudly and saw Ymmen do something that I had never seen him do before – and neither would I have ever expected him to do, either. He flinched.
“Ymmen?” I paused before him, still standing several meters away. Why was everybody treating me oddly? I thought with a flash of annoyance. I felt myself reaching out to the dragon’s mind with my own, sensing the warm shape of him there, as I pushed closer to his thoughts—
“Stop.” Ymmen suddenly flared into my mind, all hot coals and the bluster of smoke.
“What? What is it?” I blinked, shaking my head as I saw Ymmen rise and turn on his haunches to lope steadily ahead of the marching troupe. And what was worse, was that in my mind I could feel that Ymmen had pulled away somewhat. The dragon warmth of him was still there, beside my heart and my mind – but it was like there was a heavier veil now between us.
“Brother!” I whispered after his loping form, feeling that the world had turned itself upside down.
A gray mood descended on our campaign as we marched forward across the Plains. It didn’t help that the skies were a misty, somber gray as if the high winds had averted their gaze from these troubled lands. My mood was only growing darker as we marched, with me up ahead on one of the small ponies that had come with the Red Hounds with the other scouts.
Naroba had finally agreed with my insistence that we should split our forces, in order to send some of them to the Bndoui and the Akeet and other affected tribes in their burnt-out settlements. Although the new Imanu had argued that there was little that we could do for them – as our ramshackle group was still reeling from the prolonged weeks of travel and our recent battles – Naroba had finally consented. Probably because I had pointed out that we could move faster with a lighter number! I grumped.
But I suppose that we were at least making good time, I had to admit. The orange sea of the Shifting Sands was now just a distant memory, and the Plains around us were a mixture of grasslands and scrubby rises, with meandering rivers cutting towards the horizon.
It won’t be too much farther until we reach Souda territories, I felt – and then… Mother.
“Narissea?” said a voice, and I turned on my steed to see Abioye cantering up towards me, still in his threadbare and ragged cloak. He smiled a little, but his face was grave as he matched his steed with mine. He’s changed so much, I thought, remembering the young man with all of the expensive shirts and his obsession for drinking deep purple wines. He had been more scared of his sister, back then, I reflected as I nodded up to him.
“How are you feeling?” Abioye said easily, which made me a little puzzled. Why would he ask me that? I felt fine, didn’t I?
No, not really, I thought as I gazed up into the glum and gray skies. I hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that Abioye had asked me, I could hear that light buzzing in the back of my ears once again. It hadn’t gone away, had it? I thought. Maybe that was what was giving me a bad mood. The buzzing felt constant and uncomfortable. It set my teeth on edge and gave me the sharp beginnings of a tension headache.
“I think I’m just under the weather,” I admitted. Somehow it was easier to say that with him there, as we both rode together forward across the Plains, and it didn’t feel like he was interrogating me.