I could feel it in you when you saw the dark shape, the red dragon said as he landed just below her on the beach. Quickly, climb on; we will see if it’s your sister.
Raffa’s jaws still dripped with saltwater as she rushed to his side. Hearing him gulp down a mouthful of tuna, she scaled up into her saddle. Saltwater pooled in the seat. She tried to flick it out before sitting down. As he opened his massive wings and set out low over the water, Maija’s rear became uncomfortably saturated, but the excitement of seeing Natalia again made her smile. Even though she had only really remembered meeting her for the first time just a few months earlier, the two had bonded quickly. I wonder what she’ll think of Raffa, she asked herself.
Within a matter of moments, she could see clearly that the dark toothpick-like shape was a ship’s mast. As they flew closer, she could see many more bobbing masts behind the one she’d initially spotted. They must be sailing with others from Southland, she told Raffagaun. I didn’t expect that they would be with such a large fleet.
We should try to contact someone onboard, Raffa suggested.
Good idea. Natalia knows how to communicate with the mindspeak. I bet she’ll hear us if I try.
Maija focused on using her telepathic abilities and sent out a probe to the ships. At first, she could only sense the rising waves in the foreground, but as she honed her mind, she found the ships. Using her new skill was like trying to feel objects in the dark. Singling out a specific ship, she recognized its distinguishing features. The mast, sails and hull. As she anticipated, Maija could sense life onboard.
Wow, there are so many on each ship, she told Raffa as she started searching for her sister. She didn’t know exactly what to look for but assumed the feeling would be similar to what she felt when the dragonriders had passed over them.
As soon as she began passing her mind over each person individually, a sick feeling began to form in her stomach. There was something very wrong with the way they felt. It was as if they were rotten on the inside. She withdrew her mind as a realization came over her. Raffa, turn around. Those aren’t humans.
What are those creatures? Raffa asked and Maija could feel that Raffa, too, had felt the rotten sense of the creatures onboard the ship.
Those are Merglan’s orcs, Maija told him; she was sure of it. We need to go back.
Raffa didn’t turn around.
What are you doing? They’ll see us for sure if we get too close.
Those are our enemies. I could kill them all right now.
By burning their ships? That’s crazy. It would create a beacon for the three riders that just flew past us. They would come after us for sure and, if they didn’t kill us, we’d be taken prisoner and hauled back to Merglan. I doubt he would treat us with the same generosity he did the last time I was his prisoner. He knows who I am now and the threat we pose.
Raffa continued on low over the waves keeping the ships in view.
Please, Raffa, don’t do this. I hardly know magic. If those three dragonriders come back, we will be bringing death on ourselves as well.
Raffa suddenly tilted and turned back, flying away from the ships. What shall we do about them? he asked in frustration.
Leave them. This is news we need to carry back to our allies. If the orcs are leaving their fight in Southland, that means they’ll be marching on Westland next.
What about Natalia?
Maija struggled to respond for a moment, then said, If she’s smart, she’ll sail to the Kewian Islands or the Rollo Islands. We need to warn Anders and the others of this.
I thought he already knew that a mass of enemies was approaching. Perhaps we should patrol the coast for several more days? Raffa suggested.
The orcs will reach land any day now. After that they’ll march. We don’t have much time if the people of Westland are going to form a plan. I think the safest route for us is to go back along the western coast. Anders and the others should be back in Brookside by the time we return.
As you wish, Raffa said and angled toward the coastline.
Chapter 76
A Southward Pull
Anders and Zahara made one last pass, examining those huddled near the medical tent for anyone who’d sustained a serious injury and was still awaiting treatment. With his energy nearly depleted by the use of the calculated spells, Anders shared Zahara’s need for food and rest. Making sure they hadn’t missed anyone in need of serious mending, Anders went to thank Ophelia for her help in calming the patients. He, too, would have been hesitant if a dragon had wanted to stare into his open wound.
“Hey, Ophelia,” Anders began, but something moving in fast from the battlefield caused him to pause.
I thought everyone had returned already? he asked himself.
Zahara heard his thought and answered, Everyone had. That’s Kirsten, she went back out on the battlefield a little while ago.
Anders’ vision narrowed. He focused on his younger cousin as she ran toward camp. She clutched her fist against her chest where a red stain covering her arm was spreading down her front and onto her leg. What the? I thought I removed the… Wait, that’s not venom, it’s blood, he thought.
“Ophelia, follow me,” he said and ran through the trees in Kirsten’s direction. I hope it’s not something that’s gone wrong with the magic I used on her.
Drawing near, he slowed to a jog, and asked, “Kirsten, what’s happened?” He searched her quickly, noticing that her left arm where he’d removed the venom was unharmed. The blood was seeping from her right.
Kirsten stopped a few feet away from him, “It’s just my hand.”
“How did this happen? You were fine last I saw you,” Anders said, reaching to examine her fist. She pulled away. He shot her a questioning look and Kirsten’s eyes told him why she’d retreated.
Ophelia came alongside Anders, “How can I help?”
With a sigh he spoke to Kirsten in his adult tone, “Kirsten, I know you’re capable of mending a cut on your own, but I can make it go away. Just let me have a look at it.” He held out his hand expectantly.
Kirsten hesitated for a moment, then offered him her hand.
“It’s just a scratch,” she said shyly and opened her hand, exposing where she’d gripped her blade.
Anders could feel Ophelia’s hair brush his shoulder as she peered over him to see the cut. “That’s the deepest ‘scratch’ I’ve ever seen. Looks like it went all the way to the bone, almost like a cut or a gash,” she said reaching for Kirsten’s arm to get a closer look, but Kirsten jerked it away.
“Kirsten,” Anders scolded her as if she were still a child, then stopped realizing that using this tone wouldn’t help. Starting over in a more relaxed approach, he said, “Kirsten, will you let us examine your hand? Ophelia is the surgeon’s assistant and can give me a proper diagnosis on which I can base my repairs.”
