shape of Stranik’s scales was still etched into the stone walls, and you could clearly see them from beginning to end.” Awe filled the girl’s voice as with her hands she drew an arc over her head, as if even now envisioning the walls of the tunnel around her. “The span of his body even longer than we could travel in a half turn.”
A fortnight spent in a lightless cavern that resembled a snakeskin. Shuddering, Lizzan shook her head to rid herself of the horrid image.
“Some of us enjoyed that journey more than others,” Ardyl said with an amused glance at the other warrior. “I would not trade the jungle for the tunnel again, no matter how loud it is.”
“I would,” the girl said.
“Soon you will not have a jungle to trade,” Lizzan told them. “In two more days, the road climbs into the vales of Cleastan and leaves this forest behind. And if you are very lucky, you will also miss the rains that come this time of year.”
Seri shot her a baffled glance. “It pours every day.”
“It merely sprinkles for a short time. What comes soon is the spring deluge from Temra’s Heart.” Heavy rains were carried north on a wet ocean wind between the Astal range and the Fanged Mountains—though by the time it reached Koth, the heartwind was but a warm breeze that melted the last of the snows and heralded the first blooms . . . and was Lizzan’s favorite time of year. Pushing past the ache in her throat, she continued, “But we’ll avoid the worst of the rains if we are far enough into the hills . . . though it will not be near so warm. Have you enough furs?”
For none of the Parsatheans wore tunics. Aside from a few female warriors who bound their breasts, as Ardyl did, all above the waist was bare skin.
“We are well supplied,” Ardyl told her.
Perhaps for a Kothan summer. But if they stayed longer, they could find what they needed in the north.
“Do you think we will meet a great many dangers on the way?” Seri asked, with a faint slowing and slur to her words. “For we have not on this journey yet—and I need to prove that I will be worthy as the head of Yvenne’s Dragon.”
Ardyl grinned. “I do not think you need worry of that as yet.”
“So many wondrous feats I thought we would accomplish already,” the girl lamented. “But only one leatherwing has dived at me. And I did not even kill it.”
“Be patient.” Ardyl consoled her while tossing an amused glance to Lizzan. “A sorcerer-king lies ahead.”
“But if there is a battle, Kelir will make me stay away from him.”
Some of the other warrior’s amusement faded. “And if Kelir does not, I will.”
Sudden tears gleamed in Seri’s eyes. “I am the youngest of warriors here, but I am still a warrior in full.”
“So you are,” was Ardyl’s gentle reply. “But Kelir and I wish to see you become an old warrior—as do Maddek and Yvenne.”
“As does Vela.” Wiping her cheeks, Seri looked to Lizzan. “You will see that I am protected . . . but what do you think I must be protected from?”
Lizzan’s heart sank into her stomach. Mother Temra, have mercy on her now. She had full forgotten what the girl had heard.
She came to a stop and the ache in her head suddenly seemed more like a spike. The other two women turned to face her, Seri’s gaze imploring and Ardyl’s slightly narrowed—as if Kelir had already told her what Seri believed, and waited for Lizzan to clear the girl’s misunderstanding.
“I . . .” Had no true idea of what to say. Grimacing, she plowed forward. “What you heard me say was not the truth. It was Aerax that I saw first, but I was drunk and hurt—and feared that I would be hurt even more. So I told him that I was protecting you, instead.”
Seri’s lips rounded, a small furrow of confusion forming between her brows. Her gaze darted to Ardyl before returning to meet Lizzan’s. “Vela did not tell you to protect me?”
“She did not. Though of course I would, if you should ever need it. But that was not Vela’s demand.”
The girl seemed to struggle with that a bit longer before nodding. “That is fine news, then, is it not? The goddess knows I need no protection, for I can well protect myself. Clearly your prince needs it more. He does not even