“But it seemed to me that he was already not going to get better. We tried to do something to help him, but he made it seem like there wasn’t going to be anything that would make a difference for him.”
“There would not have been,” Sashaak said.
“What if he had been in your lands?”
“The only difference is that he would not have been targeted there.”
There was a quiet that stretched on for some time. It seemed as if Sashaak was sleeping, or trying to. Laric wasn’t exactly tired, as his mind kept working over the memories that Sashaak had given him and the possibility that he might be able to find something more within those that would help him know what they needed to do.
“Why did you come to these lands?” Laric asked, even though he didn’t think he would get an answer. And if he did, he wasn’t sure that the answer would be one that would help him all that much. He understood that there were things that the dragons had been through that they couldn’t change.
“We were chased,” Sashaak said.
“By mages?”
Sashaak breathed out, a bit of heat swirling from his nostrils as he did. In that heat, Laric could almost make out some of the different shapes that were there, as if Sashaak were using something that was very much like a spellcraft form, though with differences. He wasn’t sure how—or why—only that it seemed as if there was a current of energy there.
When Sashaak didn’t answer, Laric turned to focusing on the different spellcraft forms that he had learned. He used the one that created smoke, and it curled around him, then seemed to be absorbed by Sashaak.
The effect of the smoke was quite lovely, almost, and as he felt the smoke swirling around Sashaak, he also wondered if there was going to be something about it that he was even able to identify.
Finally, Sashaak stirred and looked over. “What was your last question?” the dragon asked.
“You said that you were chased. I asked if you were chased by mages.”
“No. Something worse.”
Laric pursed his lips. He hadn’t expected that.
“What’s worse than a mage?”
That was not the kind of thing that Laric would’ve ever asked before all this. He had always trusted and believed in the mages. But now, after having experienced everything he had with the mages, and after having felt the way they were willing to fight and chase them and target Sashaak, Laric couldn’t help but feel as if the mages were worse than anything else he could’ve dealt with.
“There are many worse things. And many other things that have power,” Sashaak said.
“And they are in your land?”
“They are—”
Sashaak was interrupted by a sudden boom.
Laric wasn’t sure what it was, but he felt pressure behind his ears. He tried to brace himself, immediately readying for the possibility of an attack, having no idea what it was except that he could tell the source of that power, even if he couldn’t see where it was.
Magic. Spellcraft forms.
Worse, it was close.
He got to his feet and hurried over to the others, though none of them were getting up. There was another buildup of power, this time a steady force against him.
It was behind the portal.
Sashaak shuffled closer to him, and Laric recognized that Sashaak was doing something, granting him something. The dragon pushed some of his potential out from him and toward Laric. Power began to build slowly and steadily.
The portal was about to open.
“Can you stop this?” Laric asked, looking over at Sashaak.
“Yes.”
“What would it cost you?”
That seemed to be the more important question, after all.
“Perhaps everything.”
And so Laric readied for the door to explode, for the attack to come after, and he braced for everything in it, as he could feel some part of it growing stronger. Though he had no idea what the attack would look like, he recognized that Talia was attempting to break free.
Chapter Eleven
Laric wasn’t fully ready for the moment the door exploded.
It didn’t do so with a massive burst of power or any sort of loud explosion, but rather with what felt like an almost innocuous pop. That left a faint trail of energy in the back of his mind and behind his ears, as he had been struggling to figure out what he might be able to do to counter the power that was there.
Sashaak had stepped in front of the door so that he could try to deflect anything that was going to come through, but that wasn’t necessary. Nothing emerged.
“What was that?” Malcolm asked, stirring from where he was resting. He had curled up against the wall and had his arm tucked under his head and knees up to his chest. When he spoke, he barely moved his position, as if he were just asking about a dream he’d been having.
“Talia,” Laric said.
