“At least a dozen humans, perhaps more,” Scet announced from the tent's entrance. She blinked up at him, still in shock at her findings. Here was where a symbol had rested, the very source of her troubles, or, at least, it looked exactly the same. So much so that her heart did a little thing where it tried to stop beating, but there was no way it was the same symbol that held Nex, that piece was buried beneath a mountain thanks to Lis. Not that it mattered much, she supposed, since Nex wasn't buried beneath the mountain.
The problem was, Nex was not just any Quatori. He was not like the invisible spirits of the forest, and he was different, too, from what she could tell, from the possession that became the creatures.
You are correct. They are inconsequential, I am not.
Adda frowned inwardly. And this? She tapped the cloth.
Also not inconsequential.
Scet stood at the tent's poles frowning at her.
She frowned back, using a surviving pole to cover her movements. Quickly, she buried the fabric she held. It was best, she decided, not to be associated with such a thing. Her fingers brushed the edges of a silken breast band, also white. Whomever these humans were, they seemed obsessed with the color. The quality was a little surprising. She had guessed that the encampment was used by human traders, but the clothing scattered around the tent was far too costly. And feminine. What in the Six Realms were human women even doing out in the forest?
Adda swallowed, imagining the burned and destroyed body as a woman with a taste for expensive things, it was difficult, putting personality to something so horribly mangled.
Strale appeared behind Scet, a clump of white fabric dangling from the Dragon Lord's fingertips. A hood, like some of the white garments in the trunk, but this one was not pure white, it was covered with vast amounts of fresh blood.
Her stomach lurched, not with disgust, as it should, but with hunger, as though she was looking upon the finest venison roast, with big fat rounds of bread, platters of fruits, and tubers dressed in that sauce her mother loved to make.
“Adda?”
Scet was squinting at her suspiciously...again.
“If you're not careful, your face will stick like that,” she warned him.
Nex was right, she had been able to ignore the hunger before now, partly because she had been so starved for the last week and a half that her body's signals failed to alarm her any more, and partly because they had been busy running from enemies. But being presented with something that appeared like food brought a fast wave of hunger to the forefront and made her very cranky.
She expected a smug response of some sort from her unwanted internal voice, but Nex did not say anything. She poked deeper at the reasons and realized that his attention was focused elsewhere for the moment. Odd. What could an internal demon Quatori bent on possessing her have to focus his attention on?
For a mortal, you are awfully self–important, but if you wish to know what I do, you need simply ask. I am focused on the trail that was left at the back of this camp, one you would no doubt discover eventually. You will find the explanations you seek have migrated that direction...assuming you are clever enough to put the pieces together.
Huh. She wasn't sure that what Nex told her was true, but the fact that he shared the information surprised her.
Why is that? I have shared information with you before.
To your own ends, I imagine.
Naturally.
Scet was squinting and scowling now.
“Do you always frown so much?” she asked, making her way out of the tent's boundaries and toward the back of the camp like Nex suggested.
“More, I'd say,” Strale announced cheerfully. “If misery was a competition, he would win without trying. What's the point of being alive if you aren't happy about it, eh Scet?” Strale backed from her path, idly twirling the bloodied hood around, wafting bursts of its scent in Adda's direction. She strode away from him, but was foiled from her escape when the Lord followed her. Scet stayed back, distracted by something near the pole where he stood, he crouched, running his fingers through the ash.
“I have a feeling I have encountered this Dragon before.”
Adda glanced sidelong at Strale. He wasn't so cheerful now. He studied the sky that was visible above the camp, a definite concern written on his features.
Did he worry about the Dragon's actions? Or was there something else on his mind?
“Not eager to fly off and avenge these women?” she asked.
“I long for battle, not death,” he frowned. It was a foreign expression on his handsome face. There was something truly bothering the Lord now, and Adda reconsidered her approach.
“Why are you here, Strale? You don't only seek glory or you wouldn't be so choosey to fight this Dragon. And it isn't simply approval of your general or you would have taken me back to your Aerie by force. In fact, you seemed more than happy to veer away from your Aerie. So what drives you?”
Strale glanced at her speculatively.
She shrugged. “It seemed like we were being serious. I thought it was a good time to ask.”
He stood beside her for a moment, and then his shoulders slumped a little. For the first time, she could see uncertainty in his cocky and self-assured manner.
“There is a woman...”
“And you're hoping to impress her with tales of battle?”
“I doubt battle would win this one over,” he glanced at her, “I do not know how to impress her.”
Adda gaped at the Lord. “You're admitting a flaw?”
In truth, she found it a little...charming. She had been under the impression that the Lords were promiscuous to the degree of not caring about their partner's identities. Those were the tales she had been raised on, and nothing at the Onyx Aerie had indicated otherwise, at least until they came across their mate. But Strale's admission showed far more emotion than she had expected.
His mouth quirked a little at her teasing, but there was no cheerful reply.
“So why are you here, if not to impress her?” Adda asked, curious now.
“Despite my obvious charm,” he posed and smiled at her, but it was halfhearted, “she avoids me. It's...frustrating. It was suggested that I might benefit from time away from the Aerie.”
Though Adda never expected to encounter such a thing, she found herself feeling sympathy for the Lord. She had been raised to think of those who resisted the Lords as right and proper, strong. Yet, her own sister had mated to a Dragon, and now she couldn't help but hope Strale might succeed in his endeavor.
Such an odd turn from the teachings of her life. She found herself a little ashamed at her people's biases.
“I do need to repair my relationship with my general,” he changed the subject, straightening himself. “And I feel as though this Dragon is up to something dark. I'm going to fly up, try to get a sense for the direction he was headed,” he shook his head a little, half-dried locks tossing about his shoulders. “It is too much to be coincidence that we are so close to your passage. You are still certain you must cross the mountains?”
He looked at her now, an earnest, trusting look. The memory of the cloth she had found rattled around in her conscience. The Lords of the Onyx Aerie were always distant and uncaring about Shifter females, especially ones that were not interested in becoming their sexual partners. This Lord, however indomitable, seemed genuinely interested in her goal, which, in turn, made her feel guilty. She had no idea what she was leading them into. She wanted the orb, yes, but somehow, when she pictured approaching Harvok's Alpha, she didn't think about any unusual dangers that would be in her path. Illaise and her pack were bad enough, but now some rampaging Dragon?
Maybe she should just share her problem with Strale and Scet, show them the cloth with the burned symbol, and let them decide whether they still wanted to help her, or abandon her to her fate.
It was the last part of the thought that bothered her the most. She wanted life. She wanted to live, and there was a growing possibility that, without the help of Strale and Scet, she would have no chance of even finding the orb, let alone gaining the use of it. Was it wrong to hope that they would simply stick with her? That she might apologize for her guile once she was possession free?
“I am certain,” she nodded, affirming her own words to herself.
“Then I will track him. His presence doesn't bode well for anyone, my Archon, and my general will wish to know what he is up to. I have a duty to report what I can discover, but it might require me being gone for a period of time,” she could feel him looking at her again. “Scet is no Dragon, but he is a capable Shifter, he assures me that the cause of this,” he swung his arm wide to encompass the smoldering camp, “is gone. There is nothing I can do here if you do not need my direct protection, but I could be of use discovering this Dragon's purpose. Are you comfortable with his protection if I am gone?”
It was the first time Strale had spoken well of Scet. Adda glanced at him in her periphery. A little crease had formed between his brows. He was worried, torn between duties.
“We will be cautious. I don't plan to make trouble.”
The look he gave her was one of slight disbelief. His other duty must have called strongly to him, though, for he nodded after a moment. “I will return when I can.”
He stepped back from her and transformed, and she became aware, immediately, of the difficulty of his task ahead.
The brilliance of his scales glimmered beneath the late afternoon sun, scattering millions of shining lights to the ground around him. His Dragon was meant to attract attention, something that wouldn't do him any favors when he was hoping to avoid such things. He leapt straight upward, massive wings beating at the air and buffeting the ground, stirring up clouds of ash.
Scet joined her, but he did not look surprised at the event. Obviously, they had already talked and Strale's plan was a foregone conclusion. Why, she wondered, even ask her, at all?
As big as they were, Dragons were fairly agile and fast. It only took a few moments for the last traces of Strale to disappear over the edge of the forest.
“He's like a big flying target,” she muttered. “He'll be lucky to remain unnoticed, at all.”
Scet grunted, his gaze upon the sky where Strale had disappeared, but his expression agreed with her.
She wondered if it was Strale's woman's influence. Had his desire for her frustrated him so much that he was reckless with it? Adda took a deep breath and shrugged. There was nothing she could do if the Lord was determined to throw himself into danger.
Adda refocused her attention to the rear of the camp, the place that Nex had indicated. She didn't really expect to find anything there, or not anything helpful anyway, but she didn't want to give up the chance of gaining information, either. The idea that Nex already had more knowledge than her about what was going on made her nervous.
Scet followed, but he was frowning, again.
“Are you really always frowning?”
“Are you always so irreverent?”
“Ah...yeah, this is pretty much me.”
Scet snorted softly and matched her pace. He gave her a sidelong look.
“I don't always frown,” he admitted. “Sometimes, I scowl and I've been known to snarl, as well.”
She faltered to a halt and turned to face him, letting her surprise show.
“Was that a joke?”
Something flashed in his eyes. It was long buried, but she thought she spotted humor there.
“...mostly,” he tilted his head, a lock of his hair fell forward to brush his shoulders. He truly was magnificent.
Adda grinned, unable to help it. It might have been foolish, standing in the center of such a scene, but his attempt tickled her. Scet's lips lifted in response, and for a moment it was hard to breathe.
“I approve bear-man.”
Disgusting. If you have to do that you could at least warn a higher creature.
Do what?
Courting, it's enough to turn my stomach...if I had one.
I'm not courting. Adda turned away from staring stupidly at Scet and his far too handsome features, and focused once more on the clearing. The tent she had investigated was toward the forefront of the area, toward the road which the humans must have used to haul their gear in and set up. Yet there were no signs of wagons or the horses needed to pull them. The other tents spotted the area, but all had faced the same treatment as the first.
“Was that hood Strale found from the body we investigated?” Scet's smile disappeared, something like disappointment on his features.
“No, there were several more women, in a pile just up the road. Not burned, but throats slit.”
Adda blinked. “Throats slit? That is not the actions of a Dragon, not one in beast form anyhow...is it?”
Scet shook his head, then tilted it back to study the canopy and the spot of sky that the clearing formed. “I believe our Dragon had his own friends. I checked the perimeter and they appear to be gone from here, but other than that, I cannot scent anything over the stench of the fire.”
That she believed, her nose nearly ached with the overload of strong odors that filled the clearing. Other than the first whiff of smoke mingled with death, she had not been able to distinguish any smell from another. She frowned, realizing that a great number of their senses were impaired in the clearing. The biggest loss was that of scent, a Shifter relied on such things, even in human form.
“Maybe we should leave the valley.”
“Undoubtedly,” Scet agreed. “But we need more knowledge. The only thing we have learned is that this human group was decimated, we don't know what they were attacked for or why women would be traveling alone, at all. The bodies on the road left no clues.”
Adda swallowed. She had a feeling she knew what they were attacked for, but what were these humans doing with such a thing? Were they trying to prevent its use? Or keep it for themselves? Friend or foe?