* * *
For the first time in a long time, Riette awoke feeling refreshed. Part of her felt the urge to wake up and mind her responsibilities, but she was so comfortable. The pillow bed promised to cradle her for hours to come. The silence coaxed her back to the place between sleeping and dreaming. Whispers and the smell of food tickled her senses, but still she slept. When finally she did wake, the meal had gone cold. Riette's brain was finding it difficult to keep up. Ravenous, she consumed the food before realizing Emmet's bed was empty. For half a second, she thought he might have wandered off, but then she remembered where she was. All the comfort was gone like being dunked in cold water.
"Barabas!" she shouted. "He's gone! You monster, he's gone!"
Tuck arrived a moment later, his face a mask of shock and horror.
When Barabas came into the room, Riette threw the food tray at him. He was no more or less happy than usual. "Hush," he said. "We've got to go after your brother."
"What do you mean, 'go after'?"
"Emmet has left for the Firstland with Al'Drakon," Barabas said.
Tuck remained speechless, looking shocked.
"How could you let him go?"
"I did not know," Barabas said.
"Liar!"
The man nodded and accepted the accusation. "I'm going to find your brother. Do you want to come?"
How could she trust him? Why would she trust him? Because he was the only friend she had. Because no one else here had reason to do anything for her, let alone try to rescue her brother. Whether his words were true or not, Riette reasoned she had no other choice but to accept his help. In the end, if she had to choose based on trust, it would be an easy decision.
When Commander Gerrig arrived, Riette wordlessly turned her anger on him.
"I am very sorry about your brother," he said. "I did not know."
It was a common refrain, and she trusted him no more than she trusted Barabas. She no longer identified Barabas as "the captain." Now she knew who he was deep down: Barabas DeGuiere—traitor.
Commander Gerrig walked to the sleeping chamber she had shared with Emmet, the one she'd chosen because it had seemed like the safest choice. In the back wall, he slid open a secret entrance. The stone was real, but clever engineering allowed it to move as if floating.
Anger and resentment flooded Riette's being. This was how Emmet had been taken from her, but then she also realized her brother must have gone either willingly or by extreme measures. He had not tried to wake her, and she had to cope with not knowing what really happened. Somehow she knew he had gone of his own accord, a brave and noble fool. Feeling like a complete dolt, she followed Barabas through the same halls Emmet had used during his escape, feeling betrayed, abused, and unloved. A hand landed on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Tuck said.
"Get your hands off me, and don't ever touch me again," Riette said. She did not realize the extra insult until after she'd said the words and she continued. "You knew. You knew. You are not my friend."
The words took their toll. Tuck backed away, giving Riette at least some of the space she desired. He deserved it—every word—yet she felt bad for hurting his feelings. What madness had she contracted to be so conflicted about a single person? He was cruel and unforgivably dishonest, yet he had saved her life. He'd been nicer to her than even Brick had ever been. The thought made her shed a tear on her friend's behalf, no matter what had become of him. The way she had left wasn't something of which she was proud.
When they reached a natural orifice in the mountainside, dawn's first blush colored the horizon. A cool breeze whispered of spring, and the world below was blanketed in fog, some of which glowed from within or was burned away completely by massive fires.
"If you fly into the rising sun, you'll have the best chance of avoiding pursuit," Commander Gerrig said, "from either side of the war. No guarantees, though."
His words were chilling. Barabas was so unpopular, he was unwelcome everywhere. In some ways, she pitied the man. It didn't take long to get everyone strapped in, and Commander Gerrig wasted no time in going back the way he'd come. Dashiq did not bother to run; instead, she simply fell from the Heights. Riding the currents above the tree line, she made the act of departing quietly all but impossible. Gritting her teeth was the only way Riette kept from screaming, and she just managed, though her jaws ached. Flying into the sunrise was unpleasant. Crouching low, Riette hid from the intense light.
Few words were said for the rest of the day. Riette did her best to sort through a barrage of feelings. Through that reckoning, no one emerged unscathed, her outlook gloomy. When a stark white line of rock, looking lifeless and sun bleached, appeared in the waters ahead, Riette could think of few less appealing places to take a walk. Even with that in mind, the thought of stretching her aching legs and back was still attractive.
As they drew closer, a few signs of life were apparent. The land had strange trees with domes of hearty leaves atop a myriad of arrow-straight branches sprouting from equally straight trunks. Each one bore scars, though—some fresh, some old. Claw marks raked the white bark, fresh red sap flowing from the more recent wounds. Once they had disembarked, Dashiq went straight to the trees. She was the only one Riette trusted. A dragon could not know the crimes of men, and she had always done her best to keep Riette and Emmet safe. But now Emmet was gone. It was a circular thought pattern, one that brought anger and guilt. She was supposed to have protected her brother, and others had betrayed them both. Trying to chase the thoughts away, she took a much-needed walk.
"Dragon's blood trees," Tuck said from nearby.
"Oh," Riette said, not meeting his gaze.
"The dragons like the sap and use their claws to mark their territory."
"Mm-hmm," Riette said, not looking at him.
"Aw, come on," Tuck said. "You know you're interested. You're just pretending not to be because you're mad at me."
"Mm-hmm."
"Well, I never meant you no harm, and I might've saved your life a time or two, so I think you should forgive me."
"Mm-hmm."
"I didn't know this thing with Emmet would happen," Tuck said with what appeared to be sincerity. "The cap'n didn't neither."
"He doesn't seem to have many friends, this captain of yours," Riette said, not caring if he heard her or not. "Do you ever wonder why that is? Perhaps it's because he's a bumbling idiot."
"Just because he talks funny don't mean he's stupid," Tuck said. "Just like your brother ain't as stupid as you think."
"Don't you use my brother against me!"
"Sorry," Tuck said.
"You say that a lot, you know. Ever wonder why that is?" Tuck did not meet her eyes. "It's because you're a jerk."
"I deserved that one," Tuck said.
"And a lot more."
"And a lot more," he conceded with a sigh. "I didn't mean nothing."
"Anything."
"What?"
"You didn't mean anything," she said, no longer able to resist.
Tuck just shrugged and handed her a cask of wine, which did not hurt his chances for forgiveness. "Don't worry. The gods are with us."
"They are?" Riette asked. "I sure haven't seen them around."
"Ah, but you've seen magic," Tuck said. "And magic is of the gods." He held his hands in the air in a dramatic gesture.
"I've seen tricks and chemistry but not so much magic."
"You sure about that?" Tuck asked, looking sideways at Dashiq. The copper bridgework reconstructing her face was scratched and dented but nonetheless magical. The glass eye remained intact, though it lacked the life seen in her remaining eye. The old dragon chewed the red, sappy wood with one side of her mouth, which was clearly not the natural order, but she managed to squeeze out some of the desired nutrients and medicinal properties Tuck droned on and on about.
Barabas signaled them to load up, already knowing Al'Drakon and the others had stopped there. Fresh claw marks on almost every tree were bot
h evidence of their passing and a not-so-subtle message to Barabas—or perhaps more accurately, Dashiq. The dragon took it upon herself to leave a response. Riette could not imagine how the other dragons would interpret it or even how they felt about Dashiq at all. Were politics and rivalry purely human? Riette suspected not.
"I'm still angry with you," Riette said to Barabas before climbing back aboard. He nodded in acceptance and said nothing while helping her up. Tuck followed and made certain her straps were tight. It was among the reasons Riette couldn't doubt his sincerity in wanting to protect her, but she didn't always trust what he thought was right for her, and that was the rub. It continued to chafe as the journey wore on, always one step behind the Drakon—and her brother.