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Genna woke up to a gentle rocking. She was warm and comfortable and didn’t want to open her eyes. As her awareness slowly returned, she realized that she must have passed out after dismounting Lagos. So why was the ground rocking?
She blinked at the sun and froze. Drago held her. They were atop the unicorn once again. Only rather than racing across the desert, Lagos walked casually over the stones and rocks. She twisted but couldn’t see Drago’s face.
“Be still,” he told her. “I don’t want to lose my grip.”
“How did you find us?” she asked. “How did you catch up so quickly?” How did you survive? She wanted to know but hesitated asking. Did she really want to hear the gory details of his battle with the remaining batik?
“I followed you,” he said. “Lagos left an easy trail. As to the rest, the less you know the better.”
Genna froze. Did he hear her thoughts? No, he’d only referred to her question about how fast he’d caught up to them. But why did it matter whether she knew?
“How long have I been asleep?” she inquired.
“A couple of days,” he answered. “Lagos watched over you while I caught up and we’ve been traveling ever since. We cannot lose more time.”
Though she knew the urgency of their situation, something in his voice made her try to turn and look at him again. There was a strangeness about him, something her instincts cried was terribly wrong. But he tightened his hold on her and made it impossible for her see his face. Genna grit her teeth in frustration.
“You’re quite rude, you know,” she stated.
Drago rattled her against his chest. “Stop it, wench! Can you not comprehend what’s happening to you?”
Genna clamped her teeth shut, too angry to be frightened. If he couldn’t speak civilly to her, then they wouldn’t speak at all.
Drago sighed with such force it blew her hair, but he didn’t attempt to speak. Instead he quickened Lagos’s pace and soon they were back to flying across the ground.
Genna’s heart lifted when she saw trees in the distance, but she wondered at them. Could that be the oasis he’d spoken of, or a trick of the eyes? She’d been thinking longingly of the coolness of the forest as the hot sun beat down on them. She closed her eyes, not wanting to trust them to tell her the truth.
After a short time Drago slowed Lagos to a walk and she opened her eyes again just as they stepped into the oasis. A breeze lifted her hair and Genna sighed with delight. Through the tall grass, she could see a pool of clear water. Lagos stopped and Drago released her. Genna slid to the ground and walked away from the unicorn.
She heard the Dark Warrior dismount but did not hear him approach. His voice startled her, as close as it was to her ear.
“We will rest here tonight.”
“All right.” Genna looked at the sky, still bright. They were hours away from sunset but she didn’t mind. She did not turn until she was certain he had walked away.
Genna knelt at the edge of the water and drank her fill. She looked up to find Drago looming over her.
“You can wash behind that copse of trees,” he told her, gesturing at the dense shrubbery behind her. “There the pool is a bit deeper.”
Genna took the small piece of soap from his hand and returned to the packs to fish out a change of clothes. She planned to take full advantage of the opportunity to get properly clean.
***
Drago watched her using his peripheral vision until she disappeared behind the trees. Then, groaning with the effort, he knelt at the water and began to remove his armor. His body shook with tremors of exhaustion. After he’d sent her thundering through the forest on Lagos another horde of batik had shown up to the battle. Fortunately for him, they were more interested in attacking the batik that had followed him than in killing him. He could only assume they’d crossed into the second horde’s territory, and as he’d told Aisilyn, batik were notoriously protective of their hunting grounds.
He’d let them fight it out and escaped in the confusion. It was a small thing to track Lagos, especially with his boots of swiftness. He hadn’t told the maiden about the enchanted boots out of habit—Drago never divulged all of his secrets to anyone.
But he hadn’t slept in days and the battle with the batik had taken much out of him. He had no reserves of strength left. Though he would not tell the maiden, he was certain he could not ride any farther for at least a day.
Not that it mattered. They would eat and sleep at the oasis but then they would rise and be off with the sun again the next morning. Drago could not fail his master. To do so would mean death.
He liked to think his decades of service to the demon had bought him a measure of trust, at least as much as such a creature was capable of bestowing. The dar-King had ways of keeping tabs on all of his servants but he did not often check in on Drago. Which is why he was so surprised to feel the hood of his cloak rise and settle over his head.
What news? his master inquired.
All is well, master.
A searing pain in his gut made Drago suck in a breath. Liar! the demon hissed in his head. I sense you are hiding something.
I only meant all is well now, Master. We fought off a horde of batik a few days ago and are now at the oasis in the desert.
You must make haste. Is my darling damaged?
No, Master. The maiden is whole and unspoiled.
Good. See that you keep her that way.
The dar-King’s presence faded and Drago pulled his hood away with disgust. When would he learn how far-seeing the demon actually was? He blamed his slip on his fatigue, but deep down he sensed it was more than that. He was fatigued, certainly, but not just from this quest. His feelings ran far deeper.
Drago sighed and began the process of unbuckling his armor. Some pieces would have to be repaired. Some might not be fixable. He would have to take time to do that after delivering Aisilyn to the demon.
Removing his armor left him coated in sweat, which was not a good sign. The shaking hadn’t subsided either, it had gotten worse. Not good at all. He peeled off his shirt and leaned close to the water.
***
Genna, dressed, clean, and much more comfortable in her own skin, rounded the copse of trees and gasped in astonishment. The Dark Warrior lay half dressed and with his face and chest in the water. She dropped her soiled clothes and the soap and ran to his side.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
He didn’t stir. Hesitantly, Genna poked his shoulder. He didn’t even grunt. Using what strength she had, she rolled him over in the water so that his face lifted toward the sky. Then she went to his feet and pulled him out of the water. She knelt at his side and leaned over him. His chest rose and fell so steadily she thought he might be sleeping. But why didn’t he respond to her prodding?
She sat back on her heels and studied him. His bronzed skin stretched across taut muscles that rippled all over his upper body. He still wore his boots and pants, thank goodness for that. She’d never seen this much of a man before, especially not in the City. They had established standards of modesty in all things—dress, behavior, expressions—she’d never even seen her father without his tunic. Only children got away with bare chests or legs.
“Beautiful,” she whispered. The thought struck her as odd, but she couldn’t come up with another word to describe him. She traced one of the scars on his chest with a careful finger, unable to help herself. Genna drew back, uncertain what to do for him.
Lagos stamped an impatient hoof and she looked up. At least she did know what to do for the unicorn. Drago hadn’t unsaddled him or rubbed him down. She doubted Lagos had even had a chance to drink yet.
Genna got to her feet and approached the unicorn. One large red eye watched her as she loosened and removed his saddle, nearly falling under its weight. In retrospect she probably should have removed the saddlebags first. Genna took a cloth she’d seen Drago use on Lagos before and rubbed his legs, body, and neck. Then she took his lead and pulled him toward the water, a tactic that wouldn’t have worked if he hadn’t allowed it. All the while she kept an eye on Drago’s still form. He moaned once or twice but she didn’t see him open his eyes.
Genna hesitated then, not sure whether she should try to tether Lagos. Having observed Drago with him, she knew the unicorn was well trained. Yet she’d also seen Drago tether him some nights, most nights even. Though Genna well knew the beast wouldn’t allow her to tie him if he didn’t want to be tied. He outsized her considerably.
Talking soothingly to Lagos, Genna looped the reins around a fallen log. It wouldn’t stop him from running but it would certainly slow him down if he tried. He stood patiently and let her, a good sign surely. Genna snatched the saddlebags and returned to Drago’s side.
“I don’t know if you can hear me,” she began. “But it would be really helpful if you would wake up. Please.”
He stirred, he moaned, but he did not wake.
Genna took a water skin and tipped it toward his mouth, allowing the slightest bit of water to trickle in. He drank and then turned and spat it out. She took a clean cloth and wet it before placing it on his hot flesh, for he was hot, almost burning. At first she thought it was from the sun, or from the weight of his armor, but now she wondered if he’d contracted a fever. The thought filled her with fear.
His body trembled under her hand but she kept moistening his skin with the cloth. She didn’t know what else to do. The sun started to set and with the growing darkness came a chill. Genna left his side long enough to gather wood for a fire, on his other side away from Lagos. She pulled a blanket from the pack and made a pillow for his head.
The demon’s bracelet slid up and down on her wrist with each movement, reminding her of its insidious presence. What could she do? They had just over two weeks before the double eclipse and she had no idea how far from the demon’s lair they were. The longer they waited, the more the bracelet would burn her skin, the more the pain would torment her.
Could she leave Drago and try to find the demon’s lair on her own? Genna shook her head against the thought. No, she couldn’t leave him. She wouldn’t leave him behind.
With a shiver of fear, Genna thought about the creatures of the desert. Did they also use the oasis for water? Did serpents and raptnachids even drink water, or just harvest it from their prey? Did it matter? She couldn’t abandon Drago just to save her own skin.
The night wore on and still Genna tended him. He moaned and would sometimes thrash, sometimes shout so loud it startled her and Lagos. She ate when it seemed the worst had passed, and collapsed exhausted next to him when she could stay awake no longer.
***
Drago opened his eyes to predawn light, to the maiden’s sleeping face. Confusion knit his brow and he sat up slowly, which was as quickly as his body could manage. He knew the signs well—exhaustion fever. A moist cloth fell from his shoulder and he wondered at it.
Had she tended him?
He looked back at her face, saw the pain etched in her features before a small moan escaped her lips. He moved the cloak from her arms and saw the demon’s bracelet glowing with power. The skin where the bracelet touched was red, like a burn.
Drago put a hand on her shoulder and shook her. “Maiden? You must wake.”
She opened her eyes. “You’re awake.” She winced in pain. “Oh, it hurts so much.”
“I don’t understand.” He rose, stretched stiff muscles, and then began to dress. His clothes and armor—the same items he remembered peeling away and leaving scattered—were stacked neatly beside him. Had she done that as well?
“You’ve been asleep for a day and a half,” she said through gritted teeth.
Drago froze. Surely that can’t be true? But it explained why the bracelet had started burning her. If they hadn’t moved from the oasis for over a day, it would’ve put them behind schedule. Desperately so.
He saddled Lagos quickly. “Have you eaten?” he asked her.
The maiden got to her feet, cradling her arm against her body. “Yesterday.”
Drago imagined she was hungry, or would be when the pain subsided. He would have gladly eaten every vestige of food they had left. But first they had to get moving. He eyed the maiden’s arm with concern. The demon would punish him if she arrived damaged, even if it was the demon’s own charm that harmed her.
“Come,” he said, extending his hand. “With some luck, we can reach the edge of the desert by nightfall.”
She only nodded, but she did step forward so he could swing her up onto Lagos’s back. He mounted behind her and urged the unicorn into a gallop.