Chapter Twenty-Five
We entered the mead hall where Enaid, Nest, and Aeron stood around the table with several others, looking grim and making plans.
“It looks like they're expecting an attack soon,” Mordon said, frowning.
Aeron and Enaid became grim, sitting heavily in their chairs.
“You're here to get us to go talk,” said Aeron.
“At Thessen's request.”
“And you brought with you that woman,” Enaid shook her head and frowned.
“Mother,” scolded Mordon. “Fera has had combat experience.”
“Any of them dragons? Has she even sparred with you?”
“Fera is more than capable.”
I coughed. Eyes turned to me.
“Wasting time,” I said. “Mordon, I know you support me. You don't have to fight with your mother to prove it. I will stay with the children and hopefully my assistance will not be required.”
Mordon had his mouth open to object, but the crackled voice of Nest halted all other conversations. “I will stay as well.”
Aeron said, “We will need you at the talks.
“No,” Nest said in her slow voice. “Not this time.”
Enaid bit her lip but agreed they could do without. “You will stay with the gate guard.”
“No,” Nest said, raising a shaking hand to point at me. “I will stay with Feraline and the offspring. Give my regards to Thessen.”
No one tried to object this time, but inquisitive gazes kept coming my way throughout the remainder of the preparations. Though it happened rather quickly, it seemed to be ages before the Drake Elders were assembled—most older than Nest—and the troupe departed.