The Return of the Dragonhawk

Chapter 30 -- More Fearsome than Starving Wildcats

Alyn's eyelids fluttered. "Are we home?"

"Not yet," Acontis answered, laying her down gently on his outspread cloak. "We must change horses and continue."

"How long?"

"Less than an hour to Condor Way. The rest depends on how the horses hold up."

"Take care. There are Northern troops on the road."

"We may surprise them," Acontis said. "My own powers are spent, but some of the others still have fire in them."

Alyn raised herself on her elbow and looked around. "Your company has grown!"

Acontis smiled grimly. "The Sons of the Hawk are sworn to help each other in times of need."

Alyn's elbow refused to support her, and she rolled onto her back. She could no longer feel her body. Her spirit drifted off to the cliffs of Helion. A crowd had gathered to gape at a ship hanging in the air near where Thureelor once stood. With a great whinny, Panax thundered towards the disembarking passengers.

Rhoz had returned, and Utor Horakkyn with her! Alyn tried to run towards her friend, and found herself being shaken instead.

"Stay with us." Acontis' voice, harsh with worry. "Drink," he said, pulling her into a sitting position and forcing a goblet between her teeth.

The mixture was so bitter that she retched the first mouthful onto the ground.

His hand tightened in her hair. "You must drink, before you disappear into the void."

With a heroic effort, she drained the cup. Its fumes cleared her head.

"I am sorry to be so difficult," she said.

"No matter," he said, lifting her into his arms again. "You must not allow yourself to wander. Talk to me."

"You know all my secrets already," she said, trying not to mumble. "It is your turn."

He set her on his fresh mount, and climbed into the saddle behind her. Holding her tightly, he pushed the rangy bay into a hard gallop.

"What would you like to know?" he asked, his warm breath in her ear.

"Tell me the story of you and Elitherion."

His arm tensed around her. "That is not a tale I care to tell."

"Then tell me something else about yourself." She let herself relax against him. "Do you have brothers and sisters? A wife? How did you become a mage? What are your loves and hates?"

He chuckled. "Very well. I will tell you, but beware -- you may not find it interesting enough to keep you awake. I was born in the middle of a family of three brothers and five sisters. Magic came naturally to me, but none of the others had the knack. I like fine horses and strong beer; I am prone to gambling; I cannot abide brassica root, though I am told it is good for me. When I was a boy, I had a great wolfhound named Feragh, who kept me busy hunting rabbits and roasting them for him. He liked his food cooked, and would look at me with great heart-wrenching eyes until I did what he wanted. He died bravely defending me from brigands when I was fourteen, and I have not known a finer companion since. . . ."

Acontis spoke on and on in her ear. Alyn slipped in and out of a realm somewhere between sleep and unconsciousness, and heard almost nothing of what he said over the thunder of hoofbeats. She leaned back against his chest while the great horse bounded forward between their thighs. Although the world was in chaos and death was as near as her own heartbeat, she felt safe in his arms.