“That why you asked if she sought death?”
He nodded. “Kerlings can be a handful.”
“Known many?”
“No, but I’ve killed my fair share.”
Brogan gasped and glanced over her shoulder at Falcyn.
With a fake smile, he waved at her.
She let out a squeak and sidled closer to Blaise, who cast a fierce grimace in his direction. “What did you do?”
“I smiled.”
“Ah, that explains it, then. It’s such an unnatural act for you that you look like some questing beast whenever you try.”
Falcyn screwed his face up as Blaise allowed the kerling to lead them.
They walked on while Urian listened to them bantering and tried to figure out if there was any truth to Xyn being alive. Or was it an elaborate lie by Kessar?
Wouldn’t be the first time the demon had done such treachery. And a person could go mad thinking about it.
Once they reached their cave, Urian used his powers to seal them in.
Out of patience, Urian turned to Brogan. “You think if I called for Acheron he might hear me and come to the rescue?”
“You can try.” Falcyn waited.
After a few seconds of trying, Urian growled again. “It was worth a shot.”
“Anyone know a dark elf?” Falcyn glanced to Blaise, who made it his habit to party with them.
“None that I want to call.”
Falcyn lit the cave with his fireballs. “Too bad we don’t have Cadegan here. A dark hole like this is right up his alley.”
“Illarion’s, too.” Urian reminded Falcyn of his other brother.
Falcyn nodded.
Medea gave him an arch stare. “I would have thought you were at home here, too.”
Falcyn grimaced. “Stop with the stereotypes. Not all dragons hibernate in closed quarters. I lived on an island, on top of ruins. In the open and quite happy not to be penned in. My brother Max lives in a bar.”
“Aye to that,” Blaise chimed in. “My home was a castle.”
Brogan cocked her head. “Most of the dragons here are cave-dwellers. They fire our forges. The rest hide so as not to be enslaved.”
Clearing her own throat, Brogan motioned toward the backside of the cave. “There should be a tunnel that leads toward the underground channels where we might be able to find a path to the porch.”
“The porch?” Medea asked.
“Aye. It’s the plateau where the elders meet to watch the other realms. There’s a portal there.”
“Why do they do that?”
Brogan scoffed at her question. “In case you haven’t noticed, my lady, there’s not a lot to do here, other than survive and make weaponry for the gods and fey beings. So the elder wyrdlings look out, pick a happy mortal, and ruin their lives. For fun and wagering.”
