Daughter of the Dragon

Chapter 20: The Traveler (UPDATED)

Darya ran as fast as she could, dragonbone bow in one hand, scavenged quiver of arrows in the other, rucksack slapping against her back with every stride. Over the bridge with its cracked flagstones, across a weed-choked meadow, then off the path and straight up the steep, rock-strewn slope. To keep running and not look back. To get away from the burning revenant. To never have to look into dead eyes again and endure the smell of half-rotted flesh roasting.

"Darya! Darya, Stop!" Valant shouted after her, but she kept running as fast as she could, not slowing until she reached the crest. Only then did she stop and—somewhat reluctantly—turn around. The thick mist they had stumbled through still blanketed the graveyard, all the way from the bottom of the hill to the dense birch forest on the far side. If there were more revenants, they were mercifully hidden from view. Darya kept staring at the mist, and when no undead stumbled out of it, it felt like a great weight had lifted off her chest. She had escaped. She was safe from being eaten alive or turned into a revenant or whatever the undead did to the living.

Her companions were partway up the hill, following Darya's footsteps and ignoring the winding path trod by generations of grieving villagers. Meika was struggling to get up the steep slope—she clearly wasn't fully recovered from her ordeal in the tunnels—but she had Valant supporting her, and between them, they made pretty good speed. Darya didn't feel particularly tired, which was odd because she'd just sprinted five hundred yards up a hill.

Just to be on the safe side, Darya pulled out an arrow from among the odd dozen in the quiver and inspected it. The shaft was reasonably straight, and the feathers were in acceptable condition. She leafed through the rest, finding the rest to be workable, if a little worse for wear.

Darya notched the arrow and pulled to see if her divine strength was working. The string came all the way to her ear with hardly any effort. If anything came out of the fog, Darya could hit it. However, she was unsure if arrows could hurt the revenants. The ones Valant had fought had taken a lot of brute force to put down. What if she could light the shafts on fire like she had the spear? It was a good idea if only Darya knew how to call forth the flames—it had just happened without thought when she stabbed the revenant.

By the time her friends reached the top, Valant was half carrying, half dragging Meika. "I'm glad you finally stopped," Valant said. The little witch dropped to her knees, gasping for air.

"Are you all right?" Darya said.

Meika nodded weakly, too out of breath to reply.

"You don't look all right." Darya pulled out a flask from the pack and knelt down. Meika took the bottle, drank deeply, coughed, and handed it back. "I'm sorry about not waiting for you. I was sure you were right behind me," Darya said. It was hard to lie. Not impossible, but weird. It left an oily feeling in Darya's mouth. She had some water, but the foul taste didn't go away.

Meika coughed again, then smiled. "Right behind you? We tried, but you ran as fast as a horse."

"It's true. Never saw anyone run as fast. Straight up a hill," Valant said.

"I... I had to get away. The revenants... I couldn't take any more." Darya felt a lot better after having told the truth.

"No worries. I get it. I'd rather not have to face a revenant again. I saw what you did with the spear, by the way. The fire... how did you do it? I made frost again, but I don't know how I did it."

Darya felt better knowing that Valant also struggled to make sense of his powers. And it was even worse for Meika. Ela's girl hadn't manifested anything resembling what her companions had. Darya wondered what it meant. Maybe Meika would grow into her lineage eventually. Or perhaps she hadn't been chosen after all? The shock the stone had given her... maybe it had rejected the healer's daughter instead of giving her powers?