* * *

  It was a testament to just how tired the others were that they slept right through the most beautiful sunrise Aiden had seen in months. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the faint heat of the winter sun was enough to warm his face as he closed his eyes and bathed in the light.

  It had been a quiet night, without any sign of patrolling akorans or wild animals, and Aiden was looking forward to getting some rest once they had arrived at Bracksford. As the dawn brightened, Aiden noticed they had made camp next to an old graveyard, now overgrown with vines and almost unrecognisable, save for the entrance to a mausoleum in amongst the foliage.

  It was made of stone, and despite the cracked and weathered exterior, seemed to be mostly intact. The clearing was a curious place to camp and given the choice, not the location Aiden would have chosen.

  He noticed Nellise was awake and peering at him with an inscrutable expression. Aiden suspected that questions concerning his apparent return from the dead would be forthcoming and he was not disappointed.

  “I saw you die,” Nellise said quietly, the first words she had spoken since they left akoran lands.

  “You saw me injured and knocked out, perhaps,” Aiden conceded, not sure about telling her about his otherworldly experience. Informing the others of his dragon-related dreams had done nothing to promote unity within the group.

  “You were struck right in the head, Aiden,” Nellise pressed. “No-one survives something like that.”

  “I'm not going to contest that point,” he shrugged, poking at the fire with a large stick. “But I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for my reappearance.”

  “There's no need to explain it, I already know the answer.”

  “You do?” he asked, looking at her with surprise.

  “Yes,” she nodded, “God sent you back to save us.” Aiden blinked, caught off guard by her answer and unsure if he should attempt to correct her. Then he realised what the look had been about – absolute faith. She thought she was looking upon an angel, or something similar, sent by God to pull them out of hell, and it was this knowledge that was allowing her to deal with the abuse she’d endured.

  “I'm not really sure what happened,” he lied, “I woke up in the snow, and I knew I had to try and save you all. It was only with the aid of the relics I'd recovered from Ferrumgaard that I could pull off that rescue though. I wonder what Clavis would have thought of it?”

  “I can't speak for the dead,” she mused, “but I think you certainly honoured his memory. Thank you, Aiden, I don't want to think about what would have become of us if you hadn't...” Nellise's veneer of control crumbled, and she visibly recoiled from the memories. A look of such pain twisted her face Aiden didn't know what to do. Pacian had stirred during their conversation, and upon seeing her suffering, moved to comfort her.

  “Don't touch me,” she gasped, pulling back from his outstretched hand, wrapping the cloak tightly around herself and stumbling off into the nearby bushes. Pacian moved to follow her but Colt stopped him with a look.

  “Leave her be,” he growled, slowly getting to his feet. “Let her work through it in her own way.”

  “This is exactly what I was talking about,” Pacian muttered, a dark look on his face. “She went in there expecting tea and crumpets and look what happened to her. Well, from now on, I'm doing things my way, whether she likes it or not. It's for her own good. Excuse me, nature's calling,” he added, stalking off into another part of the camp.

  “That's not gonna go well,” Colt remarked, unimpressed with Pacian’s attitude. “But enough about that. How the hell did you do all that fancy sorcery last night anyway? And Nel's right, you were stone dead after that axe hit you.”

  “I... met an old acquaintance,” Aiden replied evasively, glancing meaningfully at Sayana, who was watching the whole scene with interest from under her cloak. “He is a master of healing, and was able to get me back on my feet. As for the sorcery, well, as I told Nel, it all came from Ferrumgaard. That old wizard saved our lives with his little stash of scrolls, not to mention this thing,” he added, hefting the sceptre.

  “Show me that,” Sayana asked in her usual peremptory fashion. Aiden walked over and handed it to her, watching with interest as she stared at it for a long minute. “I thought as much,” she whispered to herself.

  “What is it?” Aiden asked cautiously.

  “Its power is nearly depleted,” she answered, handing the sceptre back to him. “The crystals have been damaged, and you would be lucky to get one or two more uses from it.”

  “Is there any way to fix it?” he asked pensively, upset at the thought of losing the mighty weapon.

  “None that I know of, but my experience is limited.”

  “Maybe I can ask the dragon,” he muttered, loud enough for only Sayana to hear. She glanced over at Colt, who was starting to cook breakfast over the fire, then grabbed Aiden by the shoulder and pulled him closer.

  “Did it speak of me?” she whispered harshly, looking him straight in the face.

  “I – yes, actually,” he sputtered, caught off guard by her sudden intensity. “I asked why it attacked you in the dream and it seemed angry when I mentioned you, saying that 'you were not invited.'“

  Sayana continued looking at him for a long, searching moment, then reached up and touched the shard hanging from around Aiden's neck. She instantly flinched in pain, shaking her hand from what seemed to be a mild burn. He looked at her hand and indeed, saw a small red welt where she had touched the shard.

  “Something is wrong,” she whispered, staring in to Aiden's eyes. “You're different, somehow. I don't know what it is. Something is... missing.” The hairs on the back of Aiden's neck stood on end at this, and he didn't know how to respond. Sayana backed away from him a little looking coiled and ready to run away at a moment's notice.

  “Sy, it's me,” Aiden insisted, scarcely believing her reaction. “I don't feel any different, I don't think any different. I'm the same man I was yesterday.”

  “That creature has taken a part of you as payment,” she hissed, “you may not feel it now, but eventually you will find out what it took. You have become its puppet, Aiden, and I'm not sure I can trust you.” She turned and stormed out of the clearing, leaving Aiden to stand there confused.

  “What's all that about?” Colt asked from nearby.

  “I wish I knew,” Aiden replied, genuinely mystified as he looked off into the foliage where Sayana had vanished.

  “Bloody women are all the same, am I right?” Colt grunted in reply.

 
Stephen L. Nowland's Novels