Mornings were the time that Drakis liked best, for each of them worked in harmony toward their common good. Belag, who had disappeared the previous night, would return exhausted in the morning-but always with a fresh kill. RuuKag would quarter the creature and properly butcher its meat so that it could be cooked. Jugar would busy himself finding or making a properly clear space while Ethis constructed a fire pit. Mala and Drakis would cook the meat for them, while the Lyric always seemed to appear with wild roots or berries though none of them could determine just how or where she came by them. Then, their meal concluded and the remaining cooked meats packed for use later in the day, everyone would see to cleaning up the camp before setting off.
Belag would remain behind and sleep in the early part of the day, but he would always join them by afternoon, his deep-throated voice singing through the grasses as he approached.
By midday of the sixth day of their trek northward, they came upon a wide, meandering river that wound its twisted way across the plain. Wildebeest, antelope, and ibex appeared from time to time at the river’s edge to drink. . each one a sight that astonished the humans and even, Drakis noted with amusement, the chimerian. Jugar at each opportunity managed to spin a tapestry of knowledge about these beasts based entirely on stories he had heard or, Drakis was convinced, that the dwarf made up on the spot.
They followed the river for four additional days, but by the morning of the tenth day it was obvious that the river’s course was leading more toward the west. When Belag reported that there were watering holes to be found on their northern course, Drakis determined to abandon the river, and once more they set off across the plain.
It was on the evening of the thirteenth day that they saw the great dust trail crossing the plains to the north. For three days they followed the long cloud of dust that seemed to precede them. By the end of the seventeenth day on the savanna, Drakis could see that the clouds of dust they had been following ended at a brown knob too distant for them to make out any detail.
When Belag left on his evening hunt, he promised to hunt in that direction and report on what he saw over their breakfast.
Drakis waited from dawn of the following day to hear Belag’s report.
The manticore did not return.
“You’ve killed us, Drakis!” Mala screamed, her fists flailing against him as he tried desperately to restrain her without doing her any harm. He was finding it impossible to do either. “You did this! You killed Timuran. . destroyed our home. . destroyed our lives!”
All reason had fled from Mala. The despair and anger that she had pushed down behind a wall of apathy from the first step they had taken into Vestasia now exploded in a senseless rush of blind anger and rage focused on Drakis.
She shoved at him, pushing herself away and staggering back onto the trampled grass where they had all spent the night. Drakis was keenly aware of the audience around them. Ethis stood with both sets of arms folded across his chest, detached and observant. Jugar looked as though he were enjoying a play that was being enacted for his benefit, while RuuKag was openly enjoying Drakis being ridiculed and shamed by his supposed mate. The Lyric, at least, was paying no attention whatsoever.
Mala glared at Drakis. “I’ve walked for days. . days. . into this, this. . this nothing. . because you said we should. And now the one creature that provided for us. . brought us our food and made it even possible to live in this. . this armpit of the world has vanished because you sent him off to find out about something you know nothing about.”
Drakis breathed in deeply, reining in his own rage and embarrassment. “Mala, this isn’t the time for this. You just need to. .”
“No!” Mala shouted back, running one hand in frustration back from her forehead through the red hair that was now nearly an inch long. “I do not ‘just need to’ do anything for you anymore! You ruined it all, Drakis! Ruined our lives and led us out here to die!”
Drakis let out his breath and gazed up into the sky.
He could feel their eyes on him, waiting.
“Fine,” he said at last, a cheek muscle twitching as he spoke.
“What?” Mala said between clenched teeth.
“Fine. You’re right.” He was not looking at her, his gaze fixed on a horizon of his own choosing. “I did it all, Mala. . just the way you said. I brought down House Timuran and woke us all up to the lie we were living. I brought us into this dangerous, barren place. If it makes you feel any better, I agree with you that it is entirely my fault.” Then Drakis looked directly at Mala with the same cold stare through which he had often viewed his prey in battle. “But you, Mala, are here. All of us are here. How you got here or why isn’t going to change the fact that you are here right now. So you have a choice to make. It’s your choice, and you’re going to be responsible for it.”
He took a step toward the woman.
She stepped back. Drakis could not decide if her look was of fear or hate.
“You can either stay here, curse my name for as many days as you have left to you, and die,” Drakis said. “Or you can shut up, come with us, and do something that might get us through another day.”