Shaman Saphir had raised his staff—a simple wooden thing that somehow commanded more attention than any jeweled scepter could have. With Moki perched on his shoulder, he began walking the circumference of the circle. As he passed each standing stone, I could have sworn the symbols carved into it grew more distinct, more meaningful, though their meaning remained frustratingly out of reach.
It had to be another trick of the light, another hallucination brought on by exhaustion, hunger, and thin air.
"Look at his feet," Codric whispered.
I did, and for a moment, I couldn't understand what he wanted us to see, but then I saw it, or rather didn't see it. Despite the loose scree that covered parts of the summit, Saphir's steps left no marks. It was as if he was walking just slightly above the surface, his boots not making contact with the ground. But that was impossible.
"It's just..." I started to say, but I couldn't think of a logical explanation other than hallucinations again.
"Just what?" Alar asked.
I shook my head. "I don't know. I'm not thinking clearly. None of us are."
Shovia laughed. "Maybe that's the point."
Another dragon swept low over the circle, close enough that I could feel the vibrating air like a thud in my chest. Its scales were a deep burgundy, and its rider sat tall in the saddle, and I saw something pass between the rider and Saphir—a silent communication.
Moki once again turned his small head toward our group, his pointy ears standing to attention as he looked straight at me.Those big brown eyes held mine, and I felt as if he were reading my mind.
"Ridiculous," I muttered, but I couldn't look away.
Moki's gaze seemed to bore into me, past all my carefully constructed explanations and rationalizations. I felt exposed, as if every doubt and fear I'd been carrying was laid bare.
"Kailin?" Alar's voice seemed to come from far away. "Are you alright?"
I blinked, and the moment shattered. Saphir and Moki had already moved on, continuing their circuit.
"I'm fine," I responded automatically. "I'm just imagining more and more absurd things."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Alar asked.
I shook my head. "What's the point? It's just nonsense that my mind makes up. Besides, I'm too exhausted to talk."
That was hint enough for Alar to stop asking questions, and I was grateful that he wasn't pushy like Shovia, who wouldn't have given it a rest.
The sun was setting now. The dragons overhead had settled into a slower pace, circling above in a lazy gliding pattern.
"It's starting," Shovia whispered, and I didn't have to ask what she meant.
Shaman Saphir had returned to the center of the circle, and as the staff in his hands caught the last rays of sunlight, I could have sworn that I saw patterns of light spreading out from it across the ground, connecting all the standing stones in a web of energy.
It was just another illusion. Just another trick of the light, another hallucination brought on by exhaustion and thin air and three days without food. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to center myself.
When I opened them again, everything looked normal. Well, as normal as anything could look at the top of a sacred mountainsurrounded by ancient stones and circling dragons. The symbols had stopped moving, the light was just light, and Saphir was just an ageless man standing in the middle of a circle of rocks.
Moki was still watching me, though, unless I was imagining that as well, which was entirely possible.
41
ALAR
"The Circle speaks three truths:
What was,
What is,
and
