others.
It was no more than an hour before sunset when she noticed him lagging behind.
Her first glimpse showed him more than a dozen lengths behind the others. The second glimpse revealed a bent-over Lochivan trying to maintain control of his drake, who was starting to run off to the side.
She signaled to the Tezerenee next to her that he should look back. Sharissa watched him stiffen when he saw the trouble the patriarch’s son was having with a simple task. The Tezerenee turned back to his charge and handed the guide rope to her. Then, urging his monstrous steed forward, he pulled up to the front of the party.
A handful of seconds later, Barakas was calling the party to a halt. By this time, Lochivan was probably at least a hundred lengths behind. His drake, in fact, had turned around and started back the way they had come.
“Lochivan!” the patriarch roared.
His son did not respond. Lochivan might have been unconscious for all he moved. Still, the patriarch tried again.
Sharissa had no patience for this. She turned her reluctant mount toward the distant figure. “If he does not come when you call, it might be because he has not the power to do so! He might be too ill to do anything for himself!”
With that, she urged her drake on, breaking through the unsuspecting Tezerenee and racing for Lochivan.
“No, Sharissa! Wait!” Gerrod cried.
Taking advantage of the confusion of the moment, Faunon ripped the guide rope from the hands of his own escort and rode off after the fearful sorceress. She gave him a look of thanks as he broke through after her, then concerned herself with trying to catch the other drake before it decided to take its helpless rider on a mad run into the wilderness.
“Lochivan!”
She saw him stir. He was still hunched over in a way that to her looked excruciating, but now he was at least acting. More than half the distance separating the party and the straggler were now behind her. She no longer had any idea if anyone was following her save Faunon. For all she knew, it went against the ways of the clan to aid someone who could not control his own illness. It would be just the draconian type of thought that the clan would choose to follow.
When only a third of the distance still remained, Lochivan suddenly straightened and glanced back. He kept most of his back to her, craning his neck just enough to see her. Even had he not worn the helm, it would have been impossible not to see his features, to read the pain that was likely near to crippling him.
She had no idea what to expect from him, but his reaction, when it finally came, so startled her that she almost reined the riding drake to a halt.
Keeping his back turned to her, Lochivan waved her away. Sharissa blinked, wondering why he would turn back the aid he so obviously needed. She had no intention of turning back anyway. Even if the Tezerenee thought he did not need help, the sorceress knew he did.
From behind her, Sharissa heard Gerrod’s straining voice. He, like his brother, wanted her to turn away.
“Lochivan!” she called. “You need help! You’re ill, Lochivan!”
“Turn away and flee!” he shouted. His voice sent shivers through her, for it was far, far worse than anytime prior. He sounded more like an animal struggling to free itself from a trap than a man.
The Tezerenee’s drake began to buck, completely confused as to what its rider wanted of it. Lochivan kept waving the reins as he sought to discourage Sharissa from coming any closer. “Leave me be! Ssssave yoursssself, you little fool! Lissssten to my brother!”
He was hunched up again, as if straining against his armor, of all things. Sharissa tried to get close enough to reach him, but her mount suddenly balked. She kicked its sides and swore at it as she had seen so many Tezerenee do, but the creature refused to go any closer, instead skittering back and forth where it was, much to her growing annoyance.
Lochivan was practically folded in two, and his pain was now so terrible that he did not even try to hold back. His shriek only made the situation that much worse, for it renewed the frenzied back-and-forth movements of the drakes. Sharissa had to hang on for dear life—and then wondered why she was bothering with the drake. It would be easier at this point to abandon the