That One Time I Went on a Quest

The Last Day

Three days go by without incident. Maybe the cultists have had a change of mind, found enlightenment in the scrumptious scriptures of the Maker and put away their ills...or maybe they're waiting for something.

Meanwhile, work on the Mirrors is almost done.

As I pull Kaishen from the keyhole-like slot on the western tower, Haylis speaks up from behind me. 'Is the blade supposed to look so dull? It's barely glowing at all.'

'It's because it hasn't eaten dragon fire in...two weeks now,' I reply as if I know all about it, 'and I've been using it every day on these...uh...mechanisms.'

'You know, that doesn't make any sense to me even though I know it's supposed to,' she says, eyebrows perked. 'How does a sword eat fire? How does it turn your arm into...that?'

Kathanhiel's arm, breaking apart in the wind like so many withered pedals –

'Because...uh...fire is put into you when you use it.' I offer it to her. 'Want to try?'

Haylis recoils like a cat, first leaping off the crate on which she was perched and then backing to the door. 'Nope. Not at all. Aunt Kath gave it to you not me so leave me out of it.'

I, a witless kid born in the labourers' quarters under the shadow of an abattoir, am offering someone the Bane of Dragons so she can try it out – that'll make good slapstick one day, in a tavern somewhere.

'This is the last Mirror anyway, so no more chances.' I ease Kaishen back into its expensive sheath, fumbling with the grip because it wouldn't come off. 'Did she mention anything else we should be doing?'

Haylis shakes her head. 'Nothing. Finish the Mirrors, that's it.'

'Maybe we should go ask for more –'

'Or, we could goof off for the rest of the day,' Haylis happily interrupts. 'Come on, I want to swim under the waterfall.'

'Uh...isn't the water kind of freezing –?'

'Cold dips are good for your lungs!' She's already charging out the door. 'Hurry up! We can study and train and die tomorrow, or we can have fun and die all the same!'

Scouts returning from the Western Forest report only emptiness and silence; everything larger than a rat within a hundred miles has either fled or filled a belly. Just this morning, a dragon was sighted circling high above the northern cliffs, the first since the siege. No one knows for sure how many of the brood are left at this point – we had killed so many – but they're gathering, and Iborus will have to fend them off. That's what it's meant to do, after all.

As I walk through the inner courtyard the soldiers stop in their training to greet me. Gone are the smug looks they had during my first days here – I'd like to think it's out of growing respect, but they probably just have heavier things on their minds.

The path just outside the inner gate leads to the dockyard, and from there it's just a small loop to the waterfall. The dry docks and the piers are all empty now except for a few old dinghies; the ironclads have all departed, loaded with refugees and the wounded. Close timing too, for already chunks of ice are tinkling down the stream; a cold night and the whole thing might freeze over.

Ripe for a swim, isn't it?

Haylis waves at me from up ahead, standing on a cute little peninsula that's just out of reach of the freezing downpour. 'Look who it is – isn't this just awkward!' she yells happily.

She's not alone. Kathanhiel is lying on a lounge chair by the lake and wiping herself down with a towel, her skin a healthy, cold-water-certified red. On the chair next to her sits Arkai, propped up with cushions like an indignant doll. His hair had been tied into a ponytail again, but apart from that there's no sign of his former self; the fresh bandages, the clean clothes...they do nothing to hide the deathly gloom on his face.