Moya looked back and forth between the armies and the serpent, who miraculously wasn’t eating Rain. She lowered her bow and ran to Fenelyus. Shaking her, she shouted, “Wake up! Wake up!”
The Fhrey’s head lifted.
“We’ve got armies behind us and a giant snake-thing in front. Could really use that lightning again because my arrows aren’t doing Tet.”
Fenelyus shook her head weakly. “Bankors are figments, not souls.” She pointed at the serpent in front of them. “That ariface is real, as are the soldiers behind us. They won’t vanish any more than I just did.”
Rain continued to stand within an arm’s length of the giant worm, staring up at it.
In a blink, Brin appeared at Tesh’s side, and he felt her take his hand. She was trembling. “I’m scared,” she whispered.
“Aren’t you the same girl that jumped into a pool of slime?”
Brin tried to smile, but it came out as an overwrought frown. “I was scared then, too.”
Tesh took hold of her by the shoulders. “Listen, you made me a promise. You said you’d run, that you’d leave me if you had to, remember?”
“There’s no place for me to go, Tesh.”
He glanced back at Rain, who was inching closer to the snake.
Tesh pointed at the armies. They were close enough that he could see the eyes of those in the front rows. “We don’t stand a chance against them, but there’s a possibility that you might manage to run past that snake.”
Brin was shaking her head. “But, Tesh—”
“Shut up and listen to me. I can’t make it. You understand?” His voice was desperate, cracking under pressure. “You must have noticed how slow I am.”
“Tesh—”
“I can’t run at all, Brin. But you . . .”
“Tesh, I can’t—”
“You can run, damn it! You’ve always been fast, but not like now . . . I’ve watched you. You’ve been holding back. Whatever is dragging me down is somehow speeding you up. You’re not even tired, are you? I can see it in your eyes. I’m exhausted, can barely stay on my feet, but you look fresh as a newborn fawn. I don’t think any of the rest of us are going to make it. Do you understand what that means? Brin, you have to take the key from Tressa and run for that bridge.”
“But I—”
“Take it and run as fast as you can.”
“But—”
“You run for that bridge, and you don’t stop until you get through the gray gate on the far side.”
“But, Tesh!”
“I want your promise!”
“Tesh!” Brin grabbed his face and turned it so that he could see the bridge. The snake was gone, leaving the route clear.
“Everyone!” Brin shouted. “Run for the bridge!” The high pitch of her voice carried, and Moya was the first to react. She pulled Fenelyus up. “Go! Go! Go!”
“With Elan as my witness and Eton as my judge . . .” Fenelyus muttered, stunned.
She wasn’t the only one to see they still had a chance. Horns sounded, and with a thundering roar, thousands of soldiers gave up their orderly march and charged.
With Tressa still in his arms, Gifford sprinted forward with Roan at his side. Half dragging a groggy Fenelyus, Moya chased them. Brin pulled on Tesh, and he tried to run, but all he managed was a slow walk. His feet were heavy and as awkward as swinging buckets of water. There was no hope.
Tesh jerked his hand back. “You promised!”
“Tesh, we can do this.”
“You can. I can’t. My feet don’t work anymore. Go!”
“But, Tesh!”
He could see the buckles on the belts of the charging line, hear the jingle of their gear. Some had spears, others javelins.
“Brin, you don’t need me! Run!”
She didn’t move. “You’re wrong. I do!”
“No, you didn’t come here for me. That’s not why you died. Go save Suri. It’s okay. I can’t die, I already have.”
The first javelin flew. He saw it fly at Brin’s back. Tesh shoved her aside.
Pain burst across his chest. He didn’t have a body, but it felt like it. His legs gave out and he fell to his knees.
Brin grabbed his arms. She pulled, trying to drag him.
“Go!” He coughed blood and pushed Brin away. “Pl—please. You prom—”
In terror and tears, Brin looked at him one last time; then finally, mercifully, she did as he asked.
She ran.
For a moment, Tesh was scared a second javelin might hit her, but as he watched, as he saw her run, his breath caught in his chest. Nothing could catch her. He was right; she’d been holding back. The girl was a bolt of light.
Chapter Fifteen
Dragon Secrets and Mouse Slippers
Poor indeed are the infallible, for facing failure teaches us how to prosper. — The Book of Brin
Suri’s second meeting with the fane was not in the throne room. Instead, she was escorted under dual guards to a smaller chamber in the palace. A long table of polished wood dominated the space. She was instructed to sit in the chair at the far end. This delighted Suri as it was the seat nearest a tall window. She sat in the chair, but sideways so she could look out. She hadn’t had much chance to see Erivan, and the view was beautiful. From her position several stories above Estramnadon, she could see across the plaza to the far hill that was crowned by a white, domed building. Trees dotted the landscape. Most of them had lost their foliage, and what remained was yellow and brown. Without the leaves, the sunlight was able to reach the ground. It glistened off homes, shops, and dew-slick streets.
Although she still wore the collar, the Orinfar markings had been negated. Suri was free and once again connected to the world of the Art. On the first try, she had mastered the blocking shield that Makareta had demonstrated and she had received a concerned look of astonishment from the young Miralyith. If the fane attempted to betray Suri again, she would surprise him as well.
Lothian entered quite a while later, yet it seemed far too soon for Suri. He walked in with the two bodyguards she had seen before, the big and the little. The fane moved to the chair at the opposite end of the long table, which seemed a bit absurd given there were many closer seats. While still in the process of sitting, he asked, “Are you prepared to tell me the secret of dragons?”
“Yes,” Suri replied.
The Fhrey ruler shooed out his escorts and sat down. He waited until they were alone, then leaned to one side and propped an elbow on the chair’s arm. He appeared calm, but his eyes were as bright as full moons. Thoughtfully, he rubbed his lower lip. The fane and the mystic watched each other in silence. The glass of the window let in light but not sound: no wind, no songs of birds, no murmuring voices. The eye of the world was on her, waiting to see what would happen.
Suri thought about Arion.
Is this what you expected? Is this the moment you saw?
“Before I tell you how to make dragons, I must ask that I be granted Ferrol’s Protection in return.” Suri expected the fane to explode, to demand that she not make requests, but he didn’t.
Imaly had stressed that she must obtain this concession before telling him anything, and she also cautioned Suri to be specific about the term. This two-word demand was something the Curator had drilled into her, insisting it was Ferrol’s Protection and not the Protection of Ferrol, as the latter was something completely different. Ferrol’s Protection was the decree by their god that Fhrey cannot kill Fhrey; the other had to do with the horn and the choosing of a new leader.