“But it is to the north, isn’t it?” Drakis pressed with urgency.
“Aye, well, more west than north it is. . but that’s more than two weeks on stout legs with nary a rest between. And it would be well to point out that most of that is open country-not settled land by any measure of the term.”
“We’re provisioned,” Drakis countered as he unconsciously hooked his thumbs under the straps of his field pack, a plan forming quickly in his head.
“Aye, partial field packs but that’s not for the length of two weeks!”
“It will get us far enough,” Drakis continued. “We can take local game. . we’ve done that before on the longer campaigns. . and RuuKag, you weren’t always a gardener. I remember you in the work sheds. . didn’t you work for the butcher for a time?”
RuuKag’s eyes closed painfully, his long fangs bared. “Yes. . I was a butcher once.”
“There, then!” Drakis answered enthusiastically. “What about this water, Jugar. . can we drink it?”
“These are the sacred waters of the. .”
“Can we drink it?”
“Well. . yes, but. .”
“We’ll take our fill, rest here tonight and then set out at first light,” Drakis continued. “We’ll ration what provisions we have and then forage for the rest.”
“The Iblisi will come for us,” the Lyric intoned ominously. “They will not give up a Queen of the Fae.”
“Then all the more reason for us to travel quickly and to travel light. .”
“Stop, Drakis!” Mala interjected. “Just think for a moment! The Lyric hasn’t said one believable sentence since we fled the master’s House, and now you’re willing to believe she’s a queen of some place we’ve never heard of?”
“Jugar has heard of it,” Drakis replied, irritation creeping into his voice.
“Jugar said that anyone who went in never came back!”
“Look, if we’re going to survive and make any kind of life for ourselves, we’ve got to go somewhere!” Drakis heard his own voice growing louder with his frustration. “And if this faery place offers us asylum from the Iblisi then maybe I’d rather not come back from it!”
Mala wheeled to Ethis for support. “And you! You haven’t said anything for a while. What do you think of this insane plan?”
Ethis looked up as though returning his thoughts from a distant place. “What? Oh, I quite agree with Drakis. By all means, we should make for the Hyperian Woods.”
“What?” Mala squeaked.
The chimerian spread his four arms, then clasped them in two sets before himself. “The Iblisi surely will come for us. We are now considered-what is their term? — ah, yes, ‘bolters.’ They will have enough problems for a few days sorting through many others like us that have escaped from the armies-at least those who remain alive after the slaughter we’ve witnessed so far-but ultimately they will search us out. They cannot let us go free-no matter whether we have a ‘queen’ with us or not.”
Ethis turned and focused his eyes on the Lyric standing with regal grandeur in the light of the pool. “We have run and must keep running. It seems that our hopes now rest with the Queen of the Fae.”