Fate of Dragons

Chapter Fifteen - Part II

The creaks and rolls of the wagons seemed to be swallowed by the mist that hung in the air around them. Derol's friends sat silent on the benches in the wagons. The forest enveloped them in murky green. Occasionally, the mist would coalesce into a light rain. Derol didn't mind getting a little wet as he watched the wagon road wind away behind them from his perch at the back door.

At Fenn's news, their group had been overcome by a sense of urgency, followed by a sense of helplessness. They couldn't make the wagons hurry any more than they could strike out on their own in an unfamiliar land.

Derol thought of Astrid and reassured himself that she was okay. One of the mothers on another wagon had invited Astrid to ride on their wagon for this day's trip so she could play with the other children. Of course Derol knew the Senemi would look after her, but he couldn't help but worry when she was out of his sight.

Did he worry so much because of their circumstances, the danger of the mission? Or was this simply what it was like to be in charge of a child's welfare? If so, Derol felt a new respect for mothers and fathers, especially those who encouraged their children to go out and experience the world for themselves. How difficult it must be to do it when your strongest instinct was to watch over them constantly and protect them from all harm.

His eyes caught Eriya's. She sat chewing her bottom lip.

"Are you worried about them, too?" he asked.

Eriya's shoulders relaxed and she sighed out of her rigid posture. She laughed.

"I'm so worried! A bunch of kids and a dragon? What could possibly go wrong?"

Gypsy had been invited to the other wagon with the children, too. Derol had been thankful that Eriya let her go, knowing how much Astrid clung to the small dragon.

"It's not just that, of course," Eriya said.

Derol nodded. He knew what she meant. They were all worried about Tesa and the other riders. And the dragons, of course.

Fenn had written back on the bespelled letter to tell Tesa they continued on their way. The wagon leader had told them it was still many days' travel before they would reach Saldive, where Tesa was.

"And I'll be long gone of you by the time you get there," the wagon leader had said.

"You will?" Derol had asked.

"Wagons can only get you so far in Yennar Lei," the man had said, and left it at that.

They spent two more nights in the forest camping alongside the wagons. The third, they spent in the wagons, for the ground had become too wet for them to pitch tents. Derol was beginning to see what the wagon leader meant. The hard-packed dirt track they traveled on was soon punctuated by a series of wooden bridges that spanned small streams or just wet ground. Then, the dirt road disappeared altogether, replaced by a wooden path just wide enough for the wagons.

Pines and some scattered maples still towered above them, and in places the ground didn't look wet at all, but was covered by a lush carpet of rolling moss. When they stopped for a break, Derol went to the edge of the raised wooden road and reached down to touch the moss. He pressed down on its soft surface, and water welled up around his hand. He nodded to himself.

Soon even the moss-blanketed forest floor gave way to more water. The wooden wagon road rose higher above the ground on tall posts and hugged the edges of a stream that soon swelled to a river. The trees thinned as more and more streams criss-crossed the forest to join the river, until finally the trees cleared and the river spilled into a glittering lake.

It was large like Lake Morna in Arethia, which was so big that it seemed like a sea. Here, too, Derol could gaze out across the waters and see nothing but the sky meeting water. Except here, there was no big city with bustling trade, no big port with great sailing ships. They were still in the middle of the woods.