When morning broke on another cloudy day, Mord came to take Mirra away as usual. Bane raised a finger, making the troll freeze.
“She stays with me from now on, Mord.”
As the troll bowed and backed away, Mirra asked, “Why?”
“My father has sworn to kill you. He will send more demons. The only way to stop them is if you stay with me. I have no wish to expend power and suffer headaches for your sake. No demon may manifest close to me without my knowledge.”
She smiled. “So you will not kill me.”
“Not yet.”
That day, Bane made Mirra walk beside the dragon, and her legs burnt with the effort. She often had to trot, and exhaustion took its toll. When, at midday, she fell and could not rise, Bane ordered Mord to carry her. The troll was immensely strong, and Mirra a small burden. His pungent smell was unpleasant, and his coarse hair prickled her skin, but her leaden legs blessed him. In this fashion, they travelled on towards the sea.