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Charlie slid from the rock, landing on his feet. “You should get some sleep before tomorrow, Corayne. We all should.”
“At least that we can agree on,” Garion grumbled. He stood with far more grace.
When Charlie reached for Corayne, she stepped away from his arm, dodging his grasp.
“After I speak with Valnir and his council,” she said with another step back.
Exhaustion loomed and Charlie gritted his teeth. “Corayne—”
“I should be there,” she shot over her shoulder. “I’m the only one of us who has seen a dragon in three hundred years.” Her voice softened. “Up close, I mean.”
“Then I’ll go too,” Charlie said, slipping his arm into her own, matching her gait. “And see youdosleep at some point.”
“You know, I haven’t had a nursemaid in about ten years,” she cut back.
“People your age generally don’t need them, but here we are.”
She offered a grateful smile in reply.
There were no campfires for the Elder company and the cold night air fell sharply as they crossed the hill. Charlie shuddered against it, drawing Corayne close.
“Dragons and haunted woods and bitter cold,” he cursed. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I think I’ll prefer the mountain passes to my own country.”
Behind them, Garion scoffed. “I will remind you of that when we’re both frozen solid.”
Most of the Elder company waited below the hill, tending to their horses or staring at the stars with vacant expressions. Charlie shook his head at them. No matter how much he tried, he would never truly comprehend the immortals.Nor do I really want to, he thought.
Valnir and his Elder lieutenants collected around another rocky outcropping, its face smooth and flat like a table. They spoke in low voices,trading words in the Elder tongue. To Charlie’s annoyance, he realized they stood in darkness, their immortal eyes keen enough to see without torches.
At their approach, one of them was good enough to pull out a lantern. It sparked to life with a strike of flint and steel.
“Corayne an-Amarat,” Valnir said, putting out a hand of welcome.
At his command, two Elders moved apart to allow them room among the council. The immortals looked neither annoyed nor inviting, apathetic to their mortal presence.
Despite all he had seen, Charlie still felt some apprehension around the Elders. Dom was one thing, but two hundred of them was unsettling. Their ethereal, deadly grace put him on edge. He glanced down the rocky table, noting the mixture of faces. Male and female, pale white or darker skinned. Worst of all were Valnir’s kin, with their red hair and yellow eyes. Even against the night, they seemed to glow.
“What plans have you made?” Corayne asked bluntly, laying her gloved hands flat on the stone.
Valnir straightened beneath his opulent cloak. In the semidarkness, he was a statue of polished marble, the lantern light reflecting on his smooth face.
“All that are needed,” he answered.
Corayne’s hand tightened into a fist, her jaw set with frustration. “Valnir.”
With a flick of his eyes, Valnir indicated to his captain of the guard, Castrin.
“A dragon is most dangerous in flight. It is the wings we must attack first,” Castrin said. “If this is indeed a young dragon, our arrows should be enough to puncture the skin, and tear enough holes to keep the beast from flying.”
Elders or not, Charlie could hardly picture it. He saw the same doubt on Corayne’s face.
“It is what we did three hundred years ago,” Valnir ground out. His sword was suddenly in his hand, the motion too quick for mortal eyes. The steel reflected the weak lantern, every curve of the metal fluid like a river. “I saw the last dragon on the Ward die. It is fitting I kill the next.”
The next is already out there, flying around the realm,Charlie wanted to say. Instead he bit his tongue.
Corayne wisely did the same. “So, archers first. Swordsmen next.”
“Yes,” Valnir clipped. “The dragon is new to this realm, and we must hope it is not yet under Taristan’s sway.”
