“What it says stays between us only,” I whispered.
“Surely,” he softly replied. The others had tumbled to the ground to catch their breath. Asdren turned his back to his underlings, wild black hair fluttering about his head as a coldwind caught it. It was a soft mass, much softer than it appeared, much like his beard. Unrolling the tiny scroll, he read it to me in a whisper that I had to lean in to hear. “First one is from the king, which you already know. Says to reply immediately as they are worried.” He glanced at me with bright blue eyes. “We are running late.” I nodded. His gaze returned to the note. “Says to look for a note from Le’ral.”
“That would be the second tube,” I said, turning my back to the others as well to pop the top and dump the missive into my palm. “I may be able to read this one.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it,” he replied as he passed the first missive back to me.
“No, I…stay. I trust you. You have proven yourself stalwart and brave.”
He glanced up at me with unreadable emotion. “I trust you too, Chirp.”
“Good.” I gave him a weary smile before gingerly opening the note. This one, from the Shadow Master, was simply worded, plain letters. I read it to him, stumbling only over the name listed on the note. “We are to meet…C’art…C’arte Gee…yes, C’arte Gee. Lettle Curve. White Sky Stable.”
Asdren nodded. “I’m not familiar with Lettle Curve, but to be honest, I’ve done my best to avoid the clans out here on the tundra. Far too much land, far too little money, and far too many tundra wolves.”
“I know of it. It lies on the northwestern side of Lake Falomar.” I returned my sight to the missive. “Gee news on CC.”
“Coelum Cadere,” Asdren mumbled. “Okay, then we head northwest to find the lake and track down this Gee person at the stables.”
“What of the troll?” I asked while ripping the missives into small bits before scattering them to the wind.
“Wolves, vultures, and crows will eat well.” He tossed a glance at Jaculi chewing on a wing. “You sure about him?”
“I am.”
“Okay, then he’s your burden to bear. Just know that if he goes feral, I will do what needs done, no matter how sad your pretty green eyes grow.”
“I understand.”
“Good. Now you need to talk to the ponies. I ain’t walking all the way to this Lettle Curve.”
Checking the barren landscape, I saw nothing that looked like a pony. Perhaps Asdren would be walking further than he had anticipated.
We found the horses several hours later, enjoying some tall grasses that had sprung up as the mountainside began to give up its hold on the land. Where there had been rock and scrub now was giving over to low-growing plants, some tall grasses, and trees. The land was softer. The frost having left the soil, leaving small pools of water. More animals and birds were seen. From small voles to hares to larger beasts such as the tundra oxen—massive cowlike animals with wide, long horns and shaggy coats—to russet bears and wolves. I’d not seen the predators of the area but had seen tracks and scat. Newt and his friends were quite lucky not to have been chased down by the packs of huge canines.
Food. Happy food. No apples. Sing song.
I gave Newt a good rub along his flank before breaking into song. Jaculi soared over us, hunting from the sky like a scaly raptor, as we gathered our steeds. The air was slightly warmer as we rode away from the base of the Witherhorns. I sang thesong of Stalwart Stonehoof, the strongest steed around, as we left the lands of the dwarves behind.
Lake Falomar was a huge freshwater lake fed by the melting snow runoff of the Witherhorns. It took us a full day and a night to travel to its shores, plus another pass of the sun and moon sisters to find the settlement of Lettle Curve. In the past, I had ventured into the tundra lands for various jobs, but never this far in when the clans were skirmishing. With Click having returned to Celear as soon as I could fashion a note to Fylson, we were using Jaculi as a far-lands scout. With each passing sun, our bond seemed to intensify. I had awoken last night from a dream where I was freefalling from the clouds. Heart pounding to break free from my chest, I sat up, panting, and caught sight of the ice dragonling careening downward above us, his lithe form slicing through the night sky as he dove at something sharing the full moons. Blinking away the fear, I watched him catch his prey then expand his wings to slow his descent. When he landed on my sleeping roll, he dropped a fat flying squirrel on my thigh.
For you.
I was touched.Thank you, but I do not eat meat. Please, you enjoy it.
He seemed perplexed.The short people eat meat.
Yes, they do. I do not. Our goddess, Danubia, guides us to give up partaking of the flesh of the beasts we oversee.
Sitting up on his haunches, he looked like a dog begging for a scrap, but he was no dog. His intelligence was far beyond any beast I had ever spoken with, including ravens or monkeys. Pigs were also quite smart, but nothing in comparison to this icy bluewyrmling. He had not been lying when he said dragons hatched with great intelligence. And he grew smarter with each passing sun. The more exposure to the world he had, the smarter he seemed, picking up new words rapidly. Now it was akin to conversing with one of the royal twins. In a season or two, his wisdom would dwarf all of ours, I was sure. What would happen then, only the goddess knew.
Does the goddess forbid it for dragons?
I rubbed at my sleepy eyes, the terror of that night vision easing.No, she knows that the beasts who eat meat require it for their survival. She expects higher beings such as elves, humans, and dwarves to exhibit more gracious examples. That did not make sense. I am tired.
The goddess seems wise. I will keep eating what I catch. You may eat grass like the ponies.
I smiled and handed him the bloody squirrel, which he then took to the meager fire to eat. Right next to Smuta’s sleeping form. I did not know if he did such things on purpose to rankle the female, but I had suspicions…
