"That is correct," said a voice beside them. Edwyn walked over. "I'm sorry this startled you, child. We had no warning ourselves. It seems the young Okami had followed us here to finish what he began in the woods outside his father's compound. We will not harm him, of course. His father is a staunch ally of the empire. His pursuit of you is merely misguided. I will attempt to speak to him, and if all goes well, he will join us tomorrow for the ritual and witness what you are doing for our empire so he may set the story straight with his father and others."
"Might I speak to him? That may help."
"Of course, child. Once he regains consciousness. I fear my men had to give him quite a blow to avoid using their blades. I suspect it will be dawn before he recovers, but you will get a moment with him if there is time. Now, come along back to your tent . . ."
Shortly after Ashyn returned to her tent, one of the women brought her wine again. She tried to refuse, saying she was quite tired enough, but the woman insisted. So Ashyn took a long drink from the skin, sank into her blankets, waited for the woman to leave, and then spat the wine onto the hard ground. The slight fuzzy feeling in her limbs told her that the earlier wine had indeed had more than fermented honey and rice in it. She had consumed enough of the sedative already to quickly fall back into slumber without needing more.
When Ashyn woke again, it was to another noise--the sound of ripping fabric. She rose, blinking against the darkness. Tova didn't even twitch and she wondered if she'd dreamed the noise. Then she saw a knife blade cutting through the rear base of her tent. She grabbed her dagger and shook Tova. The big hound only grumbled in his sleep. She was about to shake him harder when the knife withdrew and a slender hand pulled up the cut flap. A girl poked her face in the hole. She had bronze skin, like Dalain, and dark, wild hair like his, though nothing in her features suggested the resemblance was more than regional.
"Oh, goddess be praised," the girl said. "It is you, Ashyn. I thought I heard the hound snoring, but I could not be sure. It would be my luck to slice into the tent of those blasted warriors."
"Who are you?"
The girl gave a slight smile. "My apologies, little Seeker. You look so like your sister that I forget we have not met. I am Sabre. My father is a subject of Lord Okami. I came with Dalain to find you."
"You say you have met Moria?"
"Yes, I told her I'd join the hunt for you." The girl peered at her. "Ah, I see. You do not believe me. Clever girl. All right, then. Hmm. How is this? She said Tyrus was a fine swordsman, and I teased her about his . . . other sword skills, and she said she did not know about that but hoped to find out. Does that sound like your sister?"
Ashyn's cheeks burned. "Yes."
"Excellent. Now we need to clear up this mess. It does not appear you are being held captive."
"No, I'm with my grandfather. He . . . It's a long story."
"But the short of it is that we mistook the situation for a kidnapping, and the people here mistook Dalain for a kidnapper himself. We must straighten this out and get him free."
Ashyn sat up, shaking her head to clear the sedative from it. "You said Moria sent you after me?"
"Well, Tyrus asked Dalain to find you, given that he lost you the first time. Of course he was already looking. Warriors. So blasted honorable. Anyway, I told Moria I was going along to help Dalain."
"My sister is well?"
Sabre shifted, adjusting her position, which must have been uncomfortable, peering into the tent like that. "She was well when I left her."
"And with Tyrus?"
Another shift. "I saw her with Tyrus, yes. Now--"
"I am to trust Dalain then? I'm sorry, but I find that difficult to do when he shot my companion in the throat."
"What? Dalain would not--"
"He did."
"No, little Seeker. Neither Dalain nor his men would do such a thing. Tyrus asked Dalain to watch for you and your warrior boy while he searched for your sister. Dalain handled it poorly--not surprisingly--but he certainly did not shoot your companion. That would be dishonorable."
Sabre withdrew as if looking about, and when she poked her face in again, her whisper was softer still. "I must go and find Dalain's men. We were separated. I simply came here to explain and to ask that you insist on speaking to Dalain and straightening out this misunderstanding."
"I will do it now."
"Thank you."
THIRTY-FIVE
The hardest part of making her request came right at the start. Tova did not appreciate being roused again and moved sluggishly enough that Ashyn would almost think he'd taken the sleeping draught meant for her. But she managed to get him moving and then went out and spoke to one of the warriors. He fetched Edwyn, and she told him what Sabre had said.
When she finished, he led her away to sit on a mat by the still-smoldering campfire.
"You say you had never met this girl?" he began.
"No, but she knows Moria and proved it to my satisfaction."
"The fact that she's met your sister does not mean it was under good circumstances, child. Is it not possible Moria and Tyrus were captured as traitors?"
Ashyn shook her head. "The proof she gave would only have come from someone my sister felt comfortable enough to joke with. I do not doubt the girl. Her story makes sense. Tyrus entrusted Dalain with escorting us to Lord Okami. Dalain simply handled it poorly, and we fled before he could clear up the misunderstanding."
"But that does not change the fact that he nearly killed Ronan."
Ashyn paused. Sabre had been emphatic on the matter, but if it had not been one of Dalain's men, then who?
She answered slowly, "It may have been one of Okami's men, but I accept that Dalain himself played no role in that. If I can speak to him, perhaps we can clear this up further."
Her grandfather nodded slowly, his blue eyes troubled, and she braced for him to deny the request, but after a moment, he said, "His father is known as a man of great honor. I trust his son is the same. We will speak to him."
Edwyn took her to the tent where Dalain Okami was being held. The young man lay on his back, his tunic removed, his left arm bandaged, more healing plasters on his chest. When Ashyn gave a small cry of alarm, Edwyn said, "It was a sword fight, child. He is lucky to have gotten off so easily." Then his voice went grim as he said, "Two of our men did not. One is badly wounded. As for the other, I will be asking you to say a few words for his spirit in the morning."
"I'm sorry," she said.
"It was not you who attacked them."
"I'm still sorry that it happened."
He squeezed her shoulder. "You have a good heart, child." Then, to the healer, he said, "We need to wake him. Has he stirred?"
"No, my lord. He is deeply unconscious, and I very much doubt you can rouse him, but you may certainly try."
They did, to no avail. Dalain was alive, but indeed deeply asleep.
It is exactly like Ronan, Ashyn thought. And then, Is that not odd?
When she expressed concern, she said merely that she found Dalain's condition troubling, and the healer assured her that rest was simply the body's way of healing. While Ashyn knew that to be true, he did not appear to be badly injured, and when she asked about that, the healer seemed offended, as if Ashyn was questioning her diagnosis.
"Speaking of rest," Edwyn cut in, "Ashyn needs hers. It has been a very tumultuous night, and that raises concerns about the ritual. It must be done at dawn. If we postpone it, then all the earlier rites must be repeated, which I know you do not want, Ashyn."
She absolutely did not want that. And she could see she would get no further answers here. So she agreed to return to her tent and asked her grandfather to wake her early, so she could try to speak to Dalain again.
When she was given yet another draught of wine in her tent, she repeated the process--feign drinking it and then spit it out. Once the camp seemed to have fallen silent again, she shifted over to Tova, who was already deeply asleep.
T
hat's not mere exhaustion. You know it is not.
Tova had been drugged. Her stomach clenched at the word. No, not drugged. Merely given a draught to help him--
No, he had been drugged.
Could someone be trying to thwart the ritual? This was a group dedicated to caring for, and ultimately waking, dragons. Glorious in its potential. Also terrifying in its potential.
What better way to stop the ritual than to ensure Ashyn was in no shape to perform it? True, killing her would be more effective, but that only meant whoever was interfering wasn't a monster, but simply a person who thought he was doing the right thing for his empire.
Or her empire.
Who would have access to the sleeping draughts? Who had tended to Ronan when he'd been so deeply asleep? Who now tended to Dalain, in an equally unnatural sleep?
The healer.
Ashyn did not understand the purpose of keeping Dalain unconscious, but it was easy to see with Ronan. He had been her companion. For all the healer knew, he was her lover, too. The healer had only to suggest it might be unsafe to move him, and Ashyn would balk and the ritual would be postponed until the woman figured out a more permanent way to stop it.
Ronan had complained of his water tasting off. He'd done what she had with the wine: dumped it. And he'd woken when they'd been dealing with the fiend dogs and the healer's assistant had been killed, the healer herself with Ashyn. Leaving no one to give Ronan drugged water when he stirred.
What if the woman had done something to Ronan last night? If he had not truly left--
No, there was the note. Undeniably Ronan had left of his own volition. The healer's only tool seemed to be her sleeping draughts.
But why drug Dalain?
He must know something. Perhaps when the healer had been treating his wounds, he'd woken and . . .
Ashyn had no idea what Dalain might know or have said, but it wasn't important. Her hound was deep in a drugged sleep and could not help her. The young man who'd mistakenly come to "rescue" her was also unable to help. Two potential allies rendered useless. That had to mean something. To solve this mystery, Ashyn needed to wake Dalain.
Ashyn left Tova behind. There was nothing else she could do. By the time she decided it was safe to take a closer look at the situation with Dalain, her hound was impossible to wake. She reassured herself that his heart beat strong, and then positioned the blankets so, to anyone glancing in, she would seem to be asleep beside Tova.
She seemed to have waited exactly the right amount of time. The camp had gone silent, only a lone warrior prowling on guard duty, and the horizon showed no sign of dawn yet. With her cloak pulled tight, she darted from tent to tent, circling around while keeping out of the guard's way.
The tent where they were keeping Dalain was guarded, so she followed Sabre's example and cut a peephole in the back wall. Inside, the young warrior was alone and asleep.
Ashyn sliced a larger cut with her dagger and managed to wriggle through. There were things Ronan had taught her, not so much intentionally, but in spite of himself. By example. How to move quietly. How to use subterfuge. And how, sometimes, to harden your heart, just a little, and do something you'd otherwise consider cruel. Like digging her dagger tip into a bruise on the side of an injured young warrior when she was unable to rouse him.
She hoped applying pressure to the spot would be enough, but he never even stirred, so she kept pressing until the sharp tip pierced the skin and Dalain woke, struggling and gnashing against the cloth she quickly shoved in his mouth. Then she leaned over, so he could see her as she whispered, "It's Ashyn." Then, "Shhh! Please! They'll hear."
His eyes were glazed from the sedative, and he continued to fight as she reassured him, but after a few moments, her words seemed to penetrate. He went still and looked at her. Then he lifted his head to see his hands bound on his stomach.
"Are you calm?" she whispered.
He nodded.
"Do you understand that I'm here to help you?"
He nodded.
"Do you understand that there's a guard outside who is not here to help you?"
With his final nod, she tugged the cloth from his mouth.
"Where's Sabre?" Those were his first words, and she reassured him that Sabre was fine and had gone to find his men.
"Blast that girl," he muttered.
Ashyn arched her brows. "For fetching your men? Being free? Or being fine?"
He muttered something under his breath. Then his gaze moved down to her hands.
"You are not a captive?" he asked.
"No," she said. "There has been a misunderstanding. Several, it seems."
She explained as quickly and succinctly as she could.
"Did you say . . . dragons?"
"I know it sounds mad, but they're here. A mother and her two whelps. Sleeping. I've seen them, and I've felt them breathing. Now, apparently, I'm going to wake them."
"Wake the dragons . . ." He whispered the words, his gaze going distant, as if he was falling back into his thoughts. "Why would the Seeker be the one who can do such a thing?"
"The Seeker or the Keeper. Either of us can. While those are our titles in the empire, Seekers and Keepers can come from any region, any bloodline. They are simply twin girls with powers. In the culture of the North, one of their powers is--"
"Twins," he breathed the word. "Yes, twins. There is a very old story. We had a bard from the North who used to say that the way to wake dragons was--"
He looked to her, his eyes wide with dawning horror. "No." He began to struggle. "Cut my bonds, Seeker. Quickly. Please. We must get you out--"
The tent door opened. The healer came in with the guard at her shoulder. Ashyn backed up quickly, her dagger raised. The woman looked at her, no shock on her face. Just anger.
"Take her," she said to the warrior.
"No!" Dalain said. "Ashyn, run!"
The approaching warrior blocked the door. She twisted, diving to wriggle through the hole she'd cut. The warrior grabbed her. The healer pressed a stinking cloth over her mouth. Dalain shouted, trying to tell her something, but his words were lost as she fell into darkness.
THIRTY-SIX
Ashyn woke staring at dragons. She flew up, expecting to find herself bound, and nearly fell onto her face when she wasn't. Hands caught her by the shoulders.
"Careful, child."
She turned to see Edwyn. He smiled down at her, his hand resting on her shoulder.
"Thank the goddess you've woken," he said. "I'm only glad we had enough strong warriors to carry you in here."
She was in the dragon's den. A half dozen of Edwyn's people watched her with mixtures of relief, anticipation, and concern. Three were warriors. The other three wore cowled hoods, their faces hidden, but from their shapes, two seemed to be women, the third a tall man. The flames of their torches caught the gold and jewels, and the whole room seemed to dance and glitter. Ashyn had to blink more, getting her bearings.
"Tova . . ." she whispered.
"I fear your hound is in no state to join us," Edwyn said. "He must rest until the effects of that sleeping draught have passed."
"Sleeping draught . . ." She struggled to remember what had happened the night before. Something about a girl. And a young warrior. A blade cutting through a tent. She rubbed her eyes hard. When she looked at Edwyn again, his face had gone solemn, his blue eyes alight with anger.
"It seems we had a traitor in our midst," he said. "The healer sought to prevent--or delay--the ritual. I do not know her reason, but she confessed it when we could not rouse you or your hound this morning."
Yes. The healer. She'd drugged Ronan and Tova, and she'd tried to drug Ashyn. And there was someone else. A young warrior with dark hair and gray eyes and wolves--
She looked up sharply. "Dalain Okami. Where is--?"
Edwyn's gaze shifted and she followed it to see Dalain bound and gagged on the other side of the dragons. When he saw her, he strained at his bounds, eyes wild.
&nbs
p; He'd been trying to tell her something about raising the dragons . . .
"I must speak to him," she said. "He does not need to be bound. It is a misunderstanding--"
"Perhaps," Edwyn cut in. "But we believe he may have been working with our healer. There are many who oppose the very thought of dragons. It's safer to keep him bound while he bears witness."
Ashyn stifled her protests and lowered her gaze. "As you wish, Grandfather. I trust your judgment. After all, he did nearly kill Ronan."
Edwyn seemed to exhale softly, as if he'd expected her to argue.
"May I do something before I begin?" Ashyn asked.
"We truly must--"
"I would feel better returning this," she said, tugging the dove bracelet from her forearm. "I would not wish Isobo to wake and discover I have stolen it."
"All right. Give it to--"
"I must return it from where it was taken."
Ashyn was already walking toward the pile of treasure behind Dalain. She circled around him, turning away when he tried to motion frantically. She bent at the pile directly behind him, fussed at getting the armband off, and then set it on the pile before returning to Edwyn's side.
"You are wise," he said. "I am proud to call you my granddaughter."
She smiled weakly up at him. "Hopefully, you will be even prouder soon. If I can conduct my duty as you hope."
He embraced her and whispered, "You will, child. You will."
He led her to the dragons, had her kneel in front of Isobo, and positioned her just right.
"We don't want you to be the first thing she sees when she wakes," he explained. "She may be hungry."
When she looked up, startled, he chuckled and pointed at the carcass of a goat partially covered by a blanket.
"That will be the first thing she sees," he said. "I should not have jested, child. We are prepared for trouble." He waved at the warriors. One was holding a braided rope. "But there should be little need of food or restraints. She will wake as sleepy as you were. We'll bind her respectfully and then feed her and all will be well."
He adjusted Ashyn's position again. She was right beside the dragon, wedged in at Isobo's chest, rather like the two whelps to her right. He had Ashyn bow her head and shut her eyes, and then he chanted in the old language of the North as the others joined in.