“We have to go back,” Eric whispered.

  Inken winced in his arms and a cloud darkened Caelin’s face, but neither spoke.

  “No.” Alastair suddenly straightened. He shook his head. “We can’t give up. Not all the tribes are violent. The Gold dragons may know what has happened to her. We can ask for their help.”

  No one replied, and Eric found himself wondering if Alastair had finally lost his mind. To continue now, without hope, was suicide. Yet no one spoke against him, and Eric could not find the strength to argue.

  “What do you want us to do?” he asked.

  “The Gold’s nest on the coast,” Inken cut in, her voice laced with misery. “They wouldn’t have been here. The Reds or Blues would have found her first.”

  “Whatever the chance, we have to try. Without Enala, there is no hope,” Alastair pressed. “Not for anyone.”

  Inken shivered. “You know the tales about the coast, about Malevolent Cove”

  Alastair nodded. “I lived them.”

  “Malevolent Cove?” Eric whispered. The name called to him, and with a start he remembered where he had heard it. “That was where… that was where King Thomas disappeared?”

  “Yes,” Alastair looked away then, and his voice grew dull. “I have not returned since.”

  “It is the closest point on the coast to us,” Inken murmured. “Going around would cost another day.”

  There was silence for a moment, before Alastair spoke again. “It is a dark place, but we cannot afford to delay,” he paused. “I will go on, but it is up to each of you to decide whether you will follow.”

  “We can’t abandon her,” Eric echoed Inken’s words from the night before. Beside him, Inken nodded.

  Silently, Caelin and Balistor nodded their ascent. Together, they turned to see what the doctor would decide. Michael’s eyes were wide and his lips were trembling. He still wore the green robes of his order, but this was no place for a priest.

  “Elynbrigge asked me to help you, and so I will,” he straightened. “I think this is folly, but I will follow you, Alastair.”

  Alastair nodded and closed his eyes. “It might be folly, but I cannot give up hope, Michael. I have searched for too long to surrender now.”

  After that, there was nothing left to say.

  Firelight flickered across the clearing, casting shadows across the surrounding trees. They had left behind the humid valley, and now a cool breeze blew across the open grass. A pot sat over the open flames, a thick stew bubbling within. Eric’s stomach growled as he watched it, breathing in the rich fumes. A hot meal would be a welcome change. Balistor had lit the fire with a flick of his hands after finding the clearing, and no one had bothered to disagree with the decision. They were all sick of caution.

  Eric lay back in the grass and stared up at the tapestry of stars above. Balistor had assured them dragons returned to their nests at night, but his chest was still tight with anxiety. Dragon Country was a different world, ruled by creatures that were a law unto their own.

  “Here, Eric,” he sat up as Caelin offered him a bowl. “And one for you too, my lady,” he grinned at Inken.

  They accepted his offering with a word of thanks. Eric took a long sip, enjoying the warmth of the spices Michael had added. Heat spread through his stomach as he devoured the meal, fighting back the cold night.

  When Eric finished he handed back the bowl and glanced at Inken. She sat staring into the trees, her thoughts hidden by a grim mask. Her bowl was still half-full, the spoon dangling loosely from her fingers.

  Eric put an arm round her waist. “What are you thinking about?”

  Inken blinked and looked at him. “Sorry? I was lost in thought.”

  Eric kissed her. “I know the feeling. What were you thinking about?” he repeated.

  She sighed. “Do you really believe she is alive?”

  “Truthfully?” Eric spoke slowly, mulling over his words. “No. What chance did she stand against a dragon?”

  “So we’re chasing a ghost now. Why?”

  Eric gazed into her eyes, feeling oddly at peace. “Because there’s no other choice. Without her, he’s already won.”

  “You’re almost as stubborn as the old man, you know,” she looked off into the trees again, and then stood suddenly. “Come on, there’s something I want to show you.”

  “What is it?”

  “I found it earlier, when I was searching for firewood. You’ll like it. Come on!” she tugged at his arm, pulling him to his feet.

  Eric stumbled as he stood, still exhausted from the day’s ride. The stitches in his side pulled tight, but he tried to ignore them. All he wanted to do was lie down and sleep, but Inken was tugging at his hand, and there was no choice but to follow.

  “There goes the couple again,” Caelin teased as Inken led him to the edge of the trees.

  Eric blushed, and ignored them. But as they entered the trees, he hesitated, pulling Inken back.

  “Wait,” he whispered. “It’s not safe out here.”

  Inken looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Her breath hissed between her teeth, and shaking her head, she stalked past him back towards the fire. Wincing, Eric made to follow her.

  “Stay there!” Inken shot him a warning glare. “I’ll be back in a second.”

  She jogged into the campsite, gathered her gear and ran back. Now she carried her bow strung over one shoulder and wore the cavalry sabre at her side.

  “Happy now?” she teased.

  Eric nodded reluctantly, knowing this was the best he would get. It seemed they were going into the woods whether he liked it or not. Inken shot him a mischievous smirk as she took his hand again, and dragged him into the darkness.

  He stumbled after her, tripping over roots and bumping into tree trunks in the pitch-black. He could barely make out the outline of Inken ahead of him, and without her warm hand in his, he would have been lost. Twice he almost fell, only for Inken’s quick hands to steady him.

  When they finally emerged from the trees, Eric was puffing and holding his injured side. But as he looked up to see where Inken had brought him, the pain fell away, and his mouth dropped open.

  The giant trees had parted to reveal a patch of low-lying ferns. A soft glow seeped from the ferns, their gentle luminescence banishing the night. Tiny insects buzzed between them, and these too shone with light. A creek threaded its way through the clearing, the currents playing a warm melody against the coarse pebbles. Steam rose from the water, blanketing the ferns in a thin fog.

  “There was only a faint glow when I found it,” Inken spoke in a hushed voice. “I thought you might like it.”

  “It’s… it’s beautiful,” Eric had no other words.

  Inken turned to him, the scarlet curls of her hair ablaze. She took his hand and drew him further into the ferns. They sat beside the stream, arms around one another, savouring the closeness of their bodies, the warmth of their skin.

  “Eric, I… I want to ask you something,” she paused.

  Eric leaned forward, reaching up to stroke her cheek. Her eyes closed at his touch. She shivered.

  “What?” he breathed.

  “What do you want, Eric? What are your dreams?”

  The question took him by surprise and he looked away for a moment.

  What do I want?

  He had not thought about the question for a long time. It hadn’t really mattered – not until Alastair.

  “I don’t know,” he realised then how tragic it was. “I guess, to help Alastair…”

  Inken reached up and entwined her fingers in his hair. She turned him to face her. “There must be something more. You had a life once, before the magic. What did that Eric want?”

  He closed his eyes, unable to meet her fiery gaze.

  “He was lost a long time ago.”

  “I know that’s not true. When you were meditating, I saw him. Now, what do you want, Eric?”

  Eric sighed, trying to think back, to remember the boy he had once been, before his magic had awakened. It seemed part of someone else’s life now, too innocent to be his own. The memories took a long time to surface, but Inken waited in silence, ever patient.

  “I wanted to be a carpenter,” he laughed.

  Inken rested her forehead against his. “Do you still want that?”

  “I don’t know…” he hesitated.

  Inken kissed him. “Go on.”

  “I want to be normal. To finish this business and start a new life,” Eric drew in a breath. “But if we can’t find Enala, what is the point? Archon will tear the world apart.”

  “There is always a point, Eric. Life is a fickle thing, and it must be lived. Archon will attack, or he won’t. It is no different to the farmer whose livelihood depends on the weather. He knows he may be ruined one day by a drought or a storm, but he battles on anyway. True bravery means pursuing what you want, no matter the obstacles. The world may end tomorrow, but what matters is what we do with the time we have left. Otherwise, we are already lost.”

  Warmth spread through Eric’s chest as she spoke. He drew strength from her words, but knew they were not enough. “I can’t put the past aside so easily,” he looked away. “It is an anchor dragging me down. I cannot move on until I have redeemed myself.”

  “And you think saving Enala will do that?”

  Eric nodded.

  “Oh Eric,” she hugged him. “I think you have already redeemed yourself. You’re learning to control your power. You’re doing all you can to prevent the past repeating itself. And you used it to heal Chole. What more can you do?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s not enough.”

  Inken sighed. “I understand. Maybe there is nothing you can do to put those ghosts to bed. But you still have to live, Eric.”

  “I know,” he smiled as he looked at her. “There’s something else I want, you know.”

  “Oh?”

  “I want you, Inken.”

  She stood then, her eyes still locked to his. “Well I’m right here, Eric Storm. Come and get me,” she teased, walking backwards towards the stream. As she moved she pulled off her leather jacket, then the shirt beneath. The rest of her clothing quickly followed, until she stood there grinning, wearing nothing but the soft curves of her sun-touched skin.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, his eyes feasting.

  “Going for a swim,” Inken grinned. “This stream is fed by a thermal spring. Are you going to join me?”

  Springing to his feet, Eric followed her into the steaming waters.

  23

  Eric and Inken lay wrapped in each other’s arms, eyes closed, the hot water streaming over their naked bodies. Neither had spoken for a long time, and Eric lay at peace in the tranquil silence. Warmth wrapped around his stomach, and for just a moment, he forgot about the world waiting beyond the luminescent clearing.

  Then a roar shattered the darkness.

  Inken reacted instantly, rolling from Eric’s arms and leaping to the bank in one fluid movement. Scrambling in their pile of clothes, she came up a second later with her bow. Eric clambered after her, his eyes scanning the canopy overhead as the roar came again.

  The camp!

  Barely pausing to pull on their clothes, Eric and Inken took off towards the campsite. The darkness fed their panic, as terrified screams came from ahead of them. Eric hardly noticed the pain in his side as he stumbled through the trees, only Inken’s steadying hand keeping him on his feet.

  Inken emerged from the trees first, exploding through the undergrowth and out into the long grass. Eric followed a second later, his arms still raised to protect himself from the low-lying branches. Ahead, Inken came to a sudden halt, and before he could stop himself, he slammed into her back. Reaching out a hand, he caught Inken before she fell. Then they turned together to take in the clearing.

  The others stood in the centre of the campsite, weapons held at the ready, eyes fixed to the sky. Flames leapt across the long grass, stretching up into the night. Looking up, Eric caught a flash of red as something huge passed across the moon.

  Then the sky erupted into flames, revealing the beast hurtling towards them. Fire licked from jaws large enough to swallow a horse whole, and bloody fangs flickered in and out of sight. The black orbs of its eyes swept the clearing, lingering on the group of men cowering in its centre.

  The ground shook as it landed, flinging them from their feet. The horses screamed and tore free of their ties. The thunder of their fleeing hooves echoed in the darkness.

  Lying on the ground, Eric stared up at the dragon, scarcely daring to breath. It crouched on all fours, its scaly red hide filling half the clearing, as claws the size of men raked deep grooves in the earth. Giant wings splayed out on either side, blacking out the moon. Its tail flickered out behind it like a snake, and a stench like rotting meat carried to Eric’s nose. A blast of heat struck him like a furnace as it turned towards them, its tongue sliding out to taste the air.

  It roared again, and fire gushed from its jaws. The grass burst into flames as Inken dragged him to his feet. Together they stumbled backwards.

  Across the clearing, Alastair stepped away from the others. His cloak spun out around him, the silver embroidered lines glowing in the light of the moon. The air shimmered as he pointed a hand, and a dull ache began in the back of Eric’s skull as power surged across the clearing.

  The Red dragon shrieked as Alastair’s magic struck, picking it up and flinging it into the trees. The ancient trunks groaned and toppled backwards under the beast’s weight. The dragon thrashed, limbs tearing at earth and wood, before its wings beat down.

  Bounding into the air, it circled the clearing, then folded its wings and dived. Fire gushed from its jaws as it roared. The inferno raced across the grass towards Alastair and the others.

  Alastair spread his arms, and flung the blaze back on itself. Burning wood crackled as the trees around the clearing burst into flames. Smoke drifted low to the grass, and Eric bent in two, choking on the acrid air. He staggered, straining to hear the crack of the dragon’s wings over the roar of the flames.

  It appeared suddenly through the smoke, catching Alastair off-guard. He raised a hand in defiance – but too slow. The dragon slammed into the ground, knocking the old man from his feet, and unleashed a torrent of flame.

  “No!” Eric screamed as fire engulfed Alastair.

  Unbidden, his magic boiled up from the depths of his body. For once, he did not try to stop it. He let it grow, feeding it with his rage. High above, the wind stirred, and gusts swirled down into the clearing, whipping up the flames. They gathered around him, converging in a thunderous gale.

  Squinting through the smoke, Eric searched out the dragon. It still stood over Alastair, fire streaming from its mouth. To his shock, Alastair was on his feet again, his arms outstretched in defiance of the flames. Roaring, the dragon lifted its claws and lashed out, but the monstrous talons ground to a halt a foot above Alastair’s head.

  Drawing himself up, Eric pointed at the dragon, and unleashed the gale. The air rushed away from him and cascaded into the beast. The wind caught in its wings, lifting it from the ground and hurling it towards the trees. Before it struck, the great wings beat down, carrying it over the treetops.

  Beside him, Inken groaned as the dragon turned towards them, but Eric was not finished yet. He gathered the winds, encircling the creature with their fury. Gritting his teeth, Eric pressed down with everything he had, and watched in triumph as the red wings folded and the beast toppled into the forest.

  Eric’s shoulders slumped and letting out a long breath, he released his power. The strength fled from him in a rush, and he sank to his knees, an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. A tremor went through him. The brief exertion had drained his already weakened strength.

  “Eric, stop it!” he gasped as Inken grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.

  “What?” he cried over the whistling wind.

  Inken pointed.

  The blood froze in Eric’s veins as he looked up. The wind had not dissipated. Instead, they raced around the clearing, sucking flames into the air. A column of fire was taking shape above the clearing, whirring around with the circling currents. Tree trunks groaned as it gathered force, and saplings were torn from the ground and hurled up into the tornado, where the flames quickly devoured them.

  Eric gaped as Inken shook him again, wrenching him from his shock. Reaching down, he sought out his magic. But the pool of blue was gone, and only a spark remained to light the darkness. His strength was gone, his magic depleted – there was nothing he could do.

  “I can’t… my magic… not strong enough,” the wind tore away Eric’s words.

  Inken’s eyes widened and her knuckles tightened around her bow. Reaching down, she grasped him by the shirt and hauled him to his feet. “Then we’ve got to go. Run!” she yelled, trying to signal the others through the smoke and flames. “Run for the cove!”

  Then they were on their feet, running, fleeing the burning air, the smouldering heat. Gusts of wind sucked at their backs as the inferno chased them, the crackling flames leaping between the trees. There was no trouble seeing the way now – the fire was everywhere.

  A roar came from overhead as the canopy exploded, and the dragon came crashing down. Its wings shredded the bark from the trees as it landed with a thud, halting their desperate flight.

  Eric dug in his heels and his hand whipped out to catch Inken’s collar, hauling her back. The dragon stood across their path, its eyes glowing with a visceral hatred. The flames raced through the undergrowth to either side of them, and the tornado howled at their back. They were trapped.

  The dragon crept towards them, its black tongue flicking out in rapid succession. Then it paused, hesitant, and Eric realised it had been wounded in the battle. A thick branch had impaled one leg, and the webbing of its wings hung in shreds. Thick blood ran down its scales.

  But it did not need to attack to finish them. The tornado was drawing closer, and the air was hot and suffocating. Flames flooded the forest floor, taking light amidst the leaf litter. Eric could feel his skin beginning to burn.

 

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