Dagny: An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction.

5. The Edge of the Spine

5. The Edge of the Spine.

The prince's entourage moved slowly. He travelled with an abundance of guards and servants - too many, Dagny thought. He would almost be safer with less protection and better pace.

He'd be safer if he'd let us fly him to wherever he wants to go. Sverrir pointed out.

After nearly two weeks of travel, Dagny agreed. To Sverrir, she said, Oh, but that wouldn't work. He's a prince, he needs to do everything complete with pomp and ceremony.

She was irritable and so was Sverrir. The reason? Since about the second day of their travelling, it had been raining. Not just raining, lashing. Water was bucketing down from the heavens with vengeance.

Sverrir was in a foul temper, because the conditions made it technically unsafe for him to fly for long, extended periods. He had been walking for the majority of the journey.

Dagny was in a bad mood simply because she hated getting wet.

"Shur'tugal!"

She turned around at the cry, dropping from her perch on Sverrir's wide shoulder. The prince's company had paused for a brief respite, in the periphery of the forests of the Spine. The leafy branches above their heads provided a little protection from the spitting rain.

"Edal." Dagny greeted the young page warmly. He was most likely bringing news. Tornac seemed to have appointed him to keep her appraised of the general goings on in camp and of the news from Illirea. She was grateful, even if the gesture puzzled her a little.

The messenger was necessary, because every time she attended the prince's meetings, she was met with sullen silences and outright glares. The prince's advisors, mainly Lord Temair, wanted her to know she wasn't welcome. She was fairly certain Lord Sarrin disliked her just as intensely as his colleague, but he was more subtle about it.

Truthfully, Lord Sarrin worried her more. She'd started spelling her food to ensure it wasn't poisoned - which was absurd and paranoid, until the day it actually came in useful.

Along with the advisors, it seemed the captain of the unit protecting the prince had some issue with her. Dagny didn't know whether it was that she was usurping his position - which she undeniably was. Her very presence meant the Riders believed Captain Slake wasn't sufficient to protect the prince - or if he distrusted her because she was a Rider and a magic-user. She suspected it was a melange of both, as well as the fact that Slake believed a soldier's camp was no place for a woman.

Well, Captain Slake she could deal with. His blunt, forthright disapproval and disrespect were infinitely preferable to Lord Sarrin's sly, two-faced sabotage. Despite the captain's dislike of her, she respected him. He'd fought like a hero in the battle of Belatona and he was undyingly loyal to Nasuada's son. His men trusted and respected him, too. That was always a good indicator of a man's worth.

"Shur'tugal!" Edal beamed toothily up at her. She had finally taught him the correct pronunciation of that word, gods be praised. "I've a message from Prince Tornac, Shur'tugal!"

He broke off, giving Sverrir a half-fearful, half-awed look. The terror he had of her dragon had mostly given way to fascination. Sverrir, for his part, acted oblivious to the stares.

"That's wonderful, Edal." Dagny let a teasing smirk grow on her lips. "Do you think you might give me this message, at some point?"

His whole face turned beet-coloured at her words. The boy was too easy to tease. "It's here, Shur'tugal!" He thrust his hand out, holding a rolled-up missive of parchment.

"Thank you," she said, smiling sincerely. He nodded, threw one last incredulous look at Sverrir, and darted back the way he came.

She unrolled the missive, scanning it briefly. As always, it read: