A Dawn of Dragonfire - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,91

trees.

"Let's go," he said and began to walk, leaving the beach and entering the forest. Mori walked at his side, head tilted back, gaping at the distant treetops.

They walked for a long time, though Bayrin could not judge how long. He couldn't see the sun; when he looked up, he saw only mist, branches, and leaves. His stomach twisted with hunger, but he found no food in this forest; birds hooted and cawed but remained hidden, and he saw no other animals. He rummaged through his pack, but found only moldy cheese and a soggy bread roll. As they walked, he scraped off the mold and shared the paltry meal with Mori.

A glimmer of white flashed between the trees.

"Bayrin, look!" Mori whispered.

He narrowed his eyes and stared. "I saw it."

Whatever it was, it was gone. Only mist remained between the branches, undisturbed. Bayrin cocked his head, listening, but heard only the distant sea, the wind in the pines, and the hooting owls.

"What was it?" Mori whispered. "Did you get a look? I saw only something white and flowing, like a silk scarf."

Bayrin sighed. "That's all I saw too. It was just another owl."

She shook her head. "No, it was larger than an owl. Let's go look for it."

They walked across a carpet of leaves, trunks rising around them. A stream gurgled ahead between mossy boulders. Across the stream, a boulder rose white and sharp upon a knoll, drenched in a sunbeam. On its craggy surface glowed a rune of three stars around a crescent moon. The moon glowed soft blue, while the stars glowed golden.

Bayrin and Mori approached the boulder silently, boots sinking into pine needles and crumbly earth. When Bayrin touched the stone, it felt unnaturally warm, like touching a mug of mulled wine.

"Bay!" Mori whispered and pointed.

He whipped his head around and saw the white flash again. It glowed a hundred yards away; it indeed looked like a silk scarf. In an instant, it was gone between the trees. Bayrin began to run, boots kicking up needles. Mori ran at his side.

"Come back here!" he called. "We're friends. Show yourself!"

He heard no reply, and after long moments of running, he stopped and breathed heavily. Mori panted at his side.

"I saw it!" she said. "It looked like an animal, a deer or a horse." Her eyes shone.

Bayrin rubbed his belly. "I could use a deer. I'd settle for a horse too."

He sighed and sat down heavily. His feet and back ached, and hunger gnawed at his belly. The lamprey bites had shrunk when he shifted into human form, but still burned. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, but how could he? It had been long days since they left Requiem. The survivors back home needed him, if they still lived. He placed his head in his hands.

"Bayrin, are you all right?" Mori sat down beside him and touched his shoulder.

He looked up at her soft, pale face, her gray eyes that melted with concern, her smooth brown hair full of leaves and salt. Could she be the last Vir Requis other than him? Were they doomed to be lone survivors from the slaughter?

"I don't know, Mori," he said and held her hand. "I don't know if we can find the Moondisk, or if it even exists. I don't know if anyone is alive back in Requiem. What if they're all dead already?"

A moon ago, he thought, Mori would have shivered and wept to hear his words. Today she stared back steadily, chin raised.

"Then they are dead," she said softly, "and we're the last ones. But I don't believe that, Bayrin. I can't believe it. Not yet." Her hand tightened around his. "When I was a child, I read stories of the great heroines who fought Dies Irae. I would dream of being brave like them—like wise Queen Lacrimosa, or like the warrior Gloriae the Gilded, or like the great Agnus Dei who burned her enemies with fire. I… I always felt so scared and weak compared to them. They were great fighters, and I… I was just a girl in a library, reading adventures to escape the world." A tear rolled down her cheek. "But now we face a war, Bayrin. We must be like those great warriors of old. It is our time to be brave, to believe, to fight for Requiem, to defeat the Sun God who burns us. Those heroes in the old stories… they never gave up. Even when things seemed hopeless, even when