Verath the Red (Dragonwall Series #3)

Chapter 7 - Traveling Through the Wilderness

Northern Coast, Galadhal

Claire unbuckled her harness straps, preparing to dismount the moment Koldis landed. The air was thick with particulate matter. It swirled up around her as other pairs touched down. She jumped down and dragged her pack with her, leaving it beside Koldis to race away before he had the chance to transform.

She followed after several others with the same idea in mind. Walking was difficult at first. Her stiff muscles took time to warm up, especially in the cold night air, but it felt good after so many hours in one position.

According to Koldis, they had gained more distance than expected, taking advantage of a much welcome wind current. He had been so determined to utilize the tailwind, that he insisted they postpone the evening meal and keep flying well into the night. It would have been silly to waste such an opportunity. She was of the same opinion. But they couldn't fly forever.

When she threatened to pee on him, Koldis had finally agreed it was time for a break. She smiled at the memory of his reaction. No faster way to get a Drengr to land than that! The others might not have voiced their opinions, but she knew she wasn't the only one happy to be on her own two feet again.

Darkness surrounded their party. The moon was still hidden below the horizon, giving rise to a brilliant star scape. Pinpricks of light splattered every inch of the inky sky. The stars were different than those she was familiar with—very different. She missed the big dipper, the north star, and many others like Sirius and Bellatrix. She missed a lot of things....

But it would not do her any good to dwell on it.

Despite the absence of civilization, the night air was rich with sounds. The incessant chirruping of bugs permeated everything, reminding her of summer evenings spent on the porch with her boombox blaring Tim McGraw, book in hand, pages lit by the orange porch lights. She sighed. Those were good times...simpler times. No missions. No adventures. No kingdoms in need of saving. Just cornfields as far as her eyes could see.

Now all she could see, squinting against the darkness, was vast openness in every direction. Along Galadhal's coast, a long swath of deserted beach lay less than a mile north-east of where they had landed. Beyond the coast line, The Scattered Islands were invisible in the darkness, and to the north, the southern coast of Celenore. Their destination.

Finishing their business, she and the others returned to the rest of the group. It was a flurry of activity and conversations. A makeshift camp had been erected, torches burning brightly, though they would not spend the night here. They would stay only long enough to rest and eat. Belwen, Celill, and Manir had already gone about constructing a massive bonfire, while Rhywyth, Til, and three other Drengr had taken flight to hunt in search of game for their dinner.

Her stomach grumbled on cue. She considered reaching into her pack for reserves. Instead, she went to the bonfire, eager to chase away the chill. She rubbed her hands together and squinted against the blinding orange light.

"I found us a comfortable place to sit, if you would like to join me?" She jumped and turned, realizing a moment later the words were not meant for her.

There'd been a lot of that since landing. The Drengr and their Riders were more talkative on the ground. And in such close proximity, it was nearly impossible to tune them out.

She crossed her arms, hugging herself. For someone with such an ability, being able to hear multiple voices in her head all at once, these were the times she felt most alone.

The best medicine was keeping busy. She glanced around. One of the Riders, Elaine, plopped a handful of wood beside the fire, meeting her eyes before glancing away. She took a step forward. "I—I can help with that, if you need?" she said.