“There are still a few open wounds.” Flor pushed Sofia’s shoulder down harder than was probably necessary. “I’m going to fix a few of these stitches and get more of the healing balm that Clarita helped me make. I know she says they don’t know magic, but I swear there is something like it in that balm.”
Despite what Florsaid about Sofia’s back healing well, it was still over an hour before she finally allowed her to slip a tunic back on and join the others where they were arguing. Sofia had passed along the information on the dragon’s home base to the others, but Flor had immediately dragged her away after seeing the blood staining her shirt.
Another waste of time.
The two groups were gathered in the main chamber of the cenote, clustered around the fire. Most were sitting with mugs of tea, and others simply watched the debate with interest. But Micael, Clarita, and Javi were standing and shouting as though they didn’t even notice they had an audience.
“We leave immediately.” The conviction in Javi’s voice surprised Sofia. The soft-spoken man rarely yelled, let alone at Micael—the leader of the resistance. “The sooner we get there, the faster this all ends.”
“Move too quickly, and we’ll spell our own demise,” Micael said. “We need to gather more information and think this through.”
“And what sort of information are you planning on gathering?” Clarita said, throwing up her hands. “At the very least, we can start making plans immediately,”
“We can’t wander into the mountains on a hunch.”
“You know it’s more than a hunch,” Javi said.
“Is it?” Micael said. To Sofia’s surprise, he was met with silence, and the man’s eyes turned to Clarita and back to Javi. “Well, is it?
“Just imagine what we can do with the dragons on our side,” Javi finally said.
Clarita turned to Javi, face turning pink. “But the dragons aren’t simply weapons or pets to be found and used. We’ll be negotiating and entreating them for help.”
“Wewill do nothing of the sort,” Micael cut in. “You said this isn’t your fight. You’re only here as a temporary truce.”
“I won’t stand by and let a bunch of warmongering rebels be the first to find the dragons,” Clarita said. “You’ll only push them further into hiding if you aren’t careful.”
Sofia was tempted to turn around and walk away. This wasn’t the argument she wanted to have. She wanted to talk to Chalia. She wanted to check on Lumi.
“Even if we wanted to leave now, we have almost no supplies and no access to smuggle them from the city,” Micael said, ignoring Clarita’s argument completely. Sofia empathized with her as she rolled her eyes.
“If we start making plans,” Clarita said, “I can contact another tribe I know and ask for supplies.”
“You’re not coming!” Micael snapped.
“I can confirm the location with Chalia,” Sofia said, stepping forward despite everything inside her wanting to run away. “She refused to hand over information, but perhaps now that I know it, she’ll at least confirm if it’s true. And as for supplies, I think Clarita is right. The mountains won’t be easy to navigate with what we have now.” She turned to Micael. “And everyone who wants to come comes. We can’t ignore any ally we have.”
“You don’t get to make that call,” Micael said, though he looked exhausted even saying it.
Sofia shook her head. “You’re right. Chalia will make the call on who gets to come.”
She felt a spike of contentment and pride rise inside her, and she knew Chalia had been listening. The dragon hadn’t spoken to her since they’d returned. She knew she was angry.
“Yes,”Chalia said, voice like a light smack to her mind. She was fascinated by how the dragon could transfer emotions so viscerally through her speech. There were probably books somewhere that would explain how the dragons’ ability to speak and show emotions through the mental links worked. Or perhaps such knowledge had been lost. She’d mentioned as much to Flor but had only received a blank stare in response. Flor was never one for philosophical debates and pondering when there were wars to fight.
“I’m going to speak to Chalia,” she said, not waiting for confirmation. “Clarita, if you could contact your friends, we need furs, blankets, cloaks, and boots, at the very least.”
Sofia could use a fresh shirt that wasn’t stained with three layers of blood and torn to near scraps.
She knew she’d hear plenty from Micael later regarding her behavior, but she didn’t have the energy to care. She’d been better at listening to him and working with the others, but that also meant that Micael needed to recognize that she had power no one else did. Like it or not, she had important things to say.
Flor squeezed her hand before she turned, and she was happy she didn’t need to explain to her friend why she needed to be alone right now.
Chalia was easy to find. She was resting at the top of the cenote, nose peeking just over the edge as if she’d been listening in on the debate. Which she probably had been.
“I’m assuming you’ve heard everything by now.” Sofia made it to the top of the cenote, not quite approaching Chalia where she was lying. The dragon was curled into a tight ball along the side of the clearing.She couldn’t lie directly on top of the cenote without cracking the ceiling below. They’d learned that one early in their stay.
Chalia blinked at her, unmoving and silent.
