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The next day, my body woke tense and sore from sleeping on the ground. My mind was an anxious mess, and my heart made of moths. I knew I’d be seeing Cian and Hellion again before the end of the day, and the thought left me with a giddy high.
I asked Xeltec about everything. The abandoned towns we rode through did not belong to any particular Nightmare, he said. Only Skaags and gargoyles lived in isolation. The reason for Skaags was obvious. Their breeding habits made them a scourge in most other communities. As for the gargoyles…
“They were once their own little kingdom,” he said, smirking to himself. “It was a very long time ago, but they have their own customs, their own way of life.”
“Odan made me earn my clothes by fighting.”
Xeltec barked out a laugh. “Sounds like what I’ve heard. I don’t know any gargoyles personally. Odan aside.”
“What about Nisang?” I watched another empty, burnt-out house pass.
“Nisang wasn’t raised with them. There is a practice called fostering. Did they have it in your lands? It’s where some second or third born son is shipped off to live with another royal family. Usually, the child is little more than a hostage, but Nisang…” He sighed and shook his head. “He was raised alongside Cian and his brother, partly as a playmate and partly as a scapegoat.”
“A scapegoat?”
Xeltec nodded. “He endured Lukesh’s fits of anger instead of Cian. Sometimes, without Cian ever knowing.”
“He’s been protecting him since they were children?”
The forgemaster nodded.
“How did Odan come into Cian’s service?”
He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “After the Terrors escaped. His story is sad, but Odan is a fierce warrior. They say he took down three Terrors all on his own before Cian found him face down in a circle of corpses. They were fast friends, and have remained so ever since.”
Soldiers appeared on the road a short while later, single-file lines of them moving down the road. Their uniforms were clean of any bloodstains, but their eyes… They looked haunted.
As the wagons trundled down the wide road, the camp came into view. I had been expecting a sprawling expanse of tired tents, morose soldiers, weapons, and armor everywhere. Instead, the tents were colorful and even decorated. We passed a line of blue tents with red dogs on the doors. On the other side of the road, tents with a black circle on a yellow square stood vigil. Several Skaags squatted outside the tents, tending a small cook fire. Horses wandered in the shade and drank from buckets of water. A large group of Skaags and Spooks worked together near the camp entrance, piling dirt around sharpened sticks. One Skaag had been given a bucket of red paint. He walked from stick to stick, slapping a messy coating of paint on the wood.
Moving further in, there were even more elaborate shelters made of mud and rough-hewn logs. They housed groups of Nightmares that seemed to be lounging, enjoying drink, cards, or company. We passed the biggest open-air forge I had ever seen, the only shelter a small half-dome of more logs.
Twenty Skaags occupied a dirt training area, roped off from the rest of the camp. They looked to be working on a drill with shields and spears. Another, smaller yard stood empty but for the soldiers clinging to the posts, chatting amongst themselves.
And there, near the training yard, stood an enormous tent with gold and purple stripes. Three flags in blue, purple, and gold marked it as the commander’s tent. I fixed my eyes on it as we rode by, expecting him to step out at any minute, but he didn’t. He was probably busy somewhere else.
Xeltec pulled the carriage to a stop. I scanned the group of soldiers moving toward us, hoping to spot him, but Cian wasn’t among them. Instead, we got to deal with Morlash.
The Skaag swaggered up to our wagon, thumbs hooked in his belt. “Which one of you assholes ordered delivery?”
The Skaags at his back chuckled.
“Good to see some things don’t change.” I stood up, stretching my legs.
Morlash’s face twisted into a scowl. “I remember you, boy. Cian’s pet. Did you get lonely back in your cushioned palace, or are you here to fight?”
I hopped down from the wagon, landing balanced on my feet. “I’m here to deliver the ballistas that are going to save your asses, since apparently it’s too much to ask a bunch of Skaag bastards to kill a dragon.”
One of the Skaags behind Morlash surged forward, snarling.
Morlash held him back with a fist, his snarl shifting to a smirk. “So, the pet’s grown a set, has he?”
“For someone who was whining about females last time I saw him, you seem awfully concerned about my balls, Morlash.”
Xeltec choked on a laugh.
Morlash sneered at him. “Something funny, hundred-hands?”
The forgemaster suddenly seemed very interested in a nearby rock.
