that, but could barely feel it. Her lungs burned, her muscles cramped, her heart thudded. The agony drove through her, but exhaustion drowned it like a gag muffling screams. She and Bayrin had been flying for a day and a night. Dawn rose around her, and still she saw no island, only endless leagues of sea.
She wanted to ask Bayrin how he was, but could find no breath. He flew by her, tongue lolling. Her wings felt like they could fall off. She could almost imagine it—one more flap, and they'd disconnect like sails torn from a ship, fly alone into the horizon, and she would tumble. Despite herself she laughed weakly.
"Bayrin," she managed. "Let's… let's swim for a while."
If she could no longer fly, perhaps she could swim, let her wings rest and her legs propel her onward. She began spiraling down, wings billowing, the smell of salt in her nostrils. When she reached the water, she nearly crashed into it. It stung her belly, ice cold, shocking her. She lost her breath and wanted to take flight again, but could not. Her wings hurt too much. Lashing her tail, she managed to flip onto her back, stretch out her wings, and float.
Bayrin spiraled down above her. He crashed into the water by her side, howled, and cursed.
"Stars, this water's cold!" He flipped onto his back and floated beside her. He panted, smoke rising between his teeth. "Gone is the hope for any future little Bayrins."
Mori smiled wanly, not sure she understood the jest, but thankful that Bayrin's spirit was high enough to attempt one. Though she shivered in the water, she was thankful for a break from flight; her wings cramped and blazed in pain. She lay upon the water, watching the clouds roil. They formed gray and blue shapes like swooping dragons which soon began to weep. The sleet pattered against her belly. Suddenly she found that she too was weeping.
"Mori!" Bayrin said. "I know you were hoping for little Bayrins, but… what's wrong?"
What was wrong? How could he ask that? Her world had fallen. Orin was dead and so was Father. Her city lay in ruin, Elethor was in the Abyss, and she lay here, a dirty and impure thing, floating in a sea that could never wash her shame. She wept for her fallen brother and father, for her soul that too felt dead. But how could she tell Bayrin that? How could she speak to anyone of the twisting guilt, grief, and agony inside her? How could she tell them that she still saw Orin's eyes, lifeless, staring at her from his burnt face as Acribus choked her?
Instead she only said, "Bayrin… I want to go home."
He sighed and his eyes softened. He reached out his wing and touched her shoulder.
"We will go home," he promised. "We'll fly over Requiem again, Mori. You and I, and Elethor and Lyana. We'll hunt in King's Forest, stargaze from Lacrimosa Hill, and lie in the palace gardens and watch the birds. We'll sit by the fireplace in Alin's Alehouse, drink sweet ice wine, and listen to minstrels play. You'll read your books with maps, and Elethor will whittle those little wooden animals of his, do you remember them? We will rebuild our city. We will go home again."
But was there a home? she wondered. Was there still a forest, and a garden, and an alehouse, or had they burned? Was there still a city to rebuild, or mere piles of ash and bodies? Did Elethor and Lyana lie dead underground, or twisted by black magic?
"I have to believe," she whispered. "Or otherwise let the sea claim me." She stared into Bayrin's eyes. "We will find the Moondisk. We have to."
Or else all this pain, this death, was for nothing.
Bayrin opened his mouth, as if about to speak, when suddenly his eyes widened. A cry of pain tore from his maw.
"Bayrin!" Mori cried.
He kicked and floundered. His wings fluttered, spilling water, and he rose from the sea.
Mori screamed.
A twisting lamprey clung to Bayrin's back, its mouth locked onto his scales. The creature looked like a great, writhing worm, tall and wide as an oak. Its tail lashed in the water. Hovering above the water, Bayrin tried to soar. His wings fanned the sea, sending ripples across it, but he was upside down, legs kicking uselessly at the air. He could not rise. The lamprey tugged, holding him down like a chain.
"Get it off!" Bayrin cried.
Mori flipped onto her