Fate of Dragons

Chapter Twenty-Eight, Part I

As the camp had sprung to life around him, Derol sat, feeling forgotten. He watched the riders and their friends scurry about once more, having barely settled in at this camp before having to tear up their tents, their roots, move their ailing dragons. At least the dragons had begun to heal more quickly, now that they were on this island, free of the influence of the bound magic.

Derol had spent the last evening with Amina, discussing their own preparations in light of the dragon riders' preparations for their journeys with the eggs. They would start with Enval, and if they could, they would continue to help people from all over Arethia who wanted to escape.

He wondered what life was like in Enval now. It had been nearing spring as they'd fled Areth, and by now spring would have surely reached Enval, too. He wondered what had become of his farm. Had his farm hands been allowed to stay? If they had, would they have planted the fields? He chuckled softly to himself. Perhaps they wouldn't even want to leave, having been given charge of the farm without Derol there to direct them.

Surely the Karume, that marching band of mages who had invaded so swiftly, wouldn't have had any interest in farming. Food, though, everyone had an interest in. If the Karume had no interest in doing farm work, they would at least have interest in controlling the farm.

All around him, dragon riders packed, or had hurried discussions, or donned leather suits meant for flying into battle. The camp seemed town between two goals: one, finish the planning for their new mission to transport the eggs through doors back to Arethia, and two, fight off the mages of Yennar Lei, who would arrive on their shores in a matter of hours. The only problem was that the person they needed to help them make the doors, Emric, would be arriving with the mages of Yennar Lei on his heels.

Even if they could open even one door on time, what would Derol do, bring the refugees from Enval back to this island, while it was under attack?

Distant shouts told Derol that Tesa and Orrie had probably returned with Emric and the missing dragons who'd escaped from the temple at Saldive. He looked up at a movement. Amina appeared through the trees, holding Astrid's hand. He detected a faint trace of worry in Amina's features, but Astrid looked unruffled by the commotion around them. Perhaps she had become used to such constant action, Derol thought sadly.

Right now, he would give anything to be sipping a cup of strong, hot coffee on the porch of Tesa's parents' farm house. He sighed. He'd always envied that farm, how much Tesa's father had built it up over the years. Of course, he'd had two sons to help him, before they left. And then Tesa had gone, too. Derol had daydreamed of inheriting the farm, if he'd married Tesa. Having children, building the farm up even more. Now all of those hopes were gone. He'd have to start over, somewhere else.

"You look sad," Amina commented as she took a seat on a log across the fire pit from Derol. Astrid crawled into their tent and retrieved a small piece of embroidery she'd been given by one of the Onami girls back when they were in the wagons. She sat on the log next to Derol, pressing herself close. He could feel the movements of her arm as she drew the needle in and out of the fabric on the wooden embroidery hoop.

"It's hit me again, how much I've lost," Derol said. "All the work I've done, building my farm. And any chance I had of building it further is gone." He sighed again. "And now we've got to run again."

"With purpose, this time," Amina said.

Derol frowned at that. "I've had purpose all along. To save the people of Enval."

"You're right," Amina said. "With a plan, then."

Beside him, Astrid's arms stilled. She set the embroidery on her lap.