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I asked about Nisang. Asked the healers, asked the Skaags and the Nightmares coming into the makeshift infirmary. Anyone who could talk to me, I asked if they had seen him, but no one had, nor had anyone found his body. I knew I had seen him go into the river. Maybe his body had gone downstream.
“Sometimes soldiers just go missing,” said the medic, working on my back. “Sometimes, they’re never accounted for.”
Missing, presumed dead. That was the only thing he could be. Not taken. Not a prisoner of war. He would have died first.
After I let them apply some bandages, I meandered through the space of injured Nightmares and Skaags. Everywhere I went, murmurs followed. The looks ranged from fear to reverence. Some even put a fist to their chests and bowed their heads as I came by, murmuring, “Maelstrom,” which had apparently become my new nickname.
I should have been happy, or proud. Instead, I was numb. My head felt separate from my body, my limbs too heavy and misshapen.
A Spook brought me to a curtained off section of the infirmary tent where Morlash sat with his cot pulled up next to a large flat rock. He had drawn a rudimentary map on it with some chalk, or tried to. With one arm and one leg in a cast, he couldn’t do much moving.
“Of course you’re alive,” he said as I entered. “They tell me Nisang is missing.”
“He’s dead,” I said, and closed my fists around Thorn’s hilt.
Morlash spat a curse. “Him and nine hundred others. We lost nearly half our force and the other half is shot to hell. Hear you gave that dragon a good fight, though. My men are calling you The Maelstrom Mage. Almost has a good ring to it, Navahn the Maelstrom Mage, hero of the Battle of Lach Ban-Lenon.” He gave me a wary look up and down, assessing. “They say you conjured lightning.”
I wrapped an arm around myself and shrugged. “I didn’t kill the dragon. We lost.”
“Lost? Boy, just because it didn’t go the way you wanted doesn’t mean we lost.” He let out a low growl. “That dragon will never fly again. That’s a major blow, taking out their aerial advantage, especially since we sacrificed ours to do it. We sent them running too, the bastards. Maybe they’ll run right back to Brenna’s little castle and hide. And you… if it’s true that you’re a Storm Weaver…”
I wasn’t in the mood to talk. I didn’t even know why I’d bothered going to see him with nothing to say.
“I misjudged you, Nevahn.”
I only started because I didn’t believe my ears. “Is that your version of a compliment?”
He snorted. “My Headhunters don’t hand out nicknames like candy. How many did you kill? Twenty? Thirty?”
I closed my eyes, fighting the rising nausea. “Too many.”
“You should celebrate. A drink for every felled enemy!”
I shook my head and swallowed. “I can’t even keep water down right now. I don’t want to talk about it.”
He gestured to the crudely drawn map. “Any idea where they’re marching off to? I’m still waiting on an update from the Whisper.”
As if summoned, one of Devonay’s shadows appeared in the corner near Morlash’s rock. It touched the map and a white rock appeared. With a bow, the shadow stepped through the wall and was gone as fast as it had come.
Morlash grunted. “Damn creepy fuckers.”
I leaned over the map and pointed to a squiggly line running the length of the rock. “What’s this supposed to be?”
“The river, jackass. Isn’t it obvious? I’m notthatbad at drawing.”
I traced the line with my eyes, tried to reconstruct the map in my mind and place the dragon in the right place. “West,” I murmured at length.
“Southwest? Northwest? Or due west along the river?”
Sweat formed on the back of my neck and I knew… Knew why Brenna had fled the field, knew why her army had followed so eagerly at her heels.
She was heading straight for the pass, and she had hours of a head start. Straight for Cian and Hellion’s position.
“Horse,” I choked out, dizzy. “I need a horse.”
“Even at full speed, you’ll never get there in time. It’s a two-day ride under the best circumstances and you’re half-dead. We are better off waiting until—”
I rushed out of the infirmary. With a fresh horse, riding hard, I could be back at camp tomorrow. Even at that pace, I still wouldn’t arrive before Brenna, not if the shadow’s information was correct. Taking the dragon’s wings had slowed it, but not by much.
