“Who the hell’s he talking about?” Roland asked.
“I don’t know.” Rega began packing their equipment, throwing food into leather pouches. “And I don’t care. Crazed or not, he’s right about one thing. We’ve got to keep moving.”
In faith they walked with modest stride, to sleeping Thillia beneath. The crashing waves their virtue cried, the kingdoms wept their watery wreath.
The dwarf’s rich bass voice rose in song. “You see,” said Drugar, when the verse ended, “I have learned it.”
“You’re right,” said Roland, making no move to help pack. He sat on the ground, arms dangling listlessly between his knees. “That’s who the knight meant. And they didn’t come back. Why not?” He looked up, angry. “Why didn’t they? Everything they worked for-destroyed! Our world! Gone! Why? What’s the sense?”
Rega’s lips tightened, she was flinging packs onto the cargan. “It was only a legend. No one really believed it.”
“Yeah,” muttered Roland. “Nobody believed in the tytans either.”
Rega’s hands, tugging at the straps, started to shake. She lowered her head onto the cargan’s flank, gripping the leather hard, until it hurt, willing herself not to cry, not to give way.
Paithan’s hand closed over hers.
“Don’t!” she said in a fierce tone, elbowing him aside. She lifted her head, shook her hair around her face, and gave the strap a vicious tug. “Go on. Leave me alone.” Surreptitiously, when the elf wasn’t looking, she wiped her hand across wet cheeks.
They started on their way, disheartened, dispirited, fear driving them on. They had traversed only a few miles when they came upon the knight, lying face down across the trail.
Paithan slid from the cargan, knelt beside the man, his hand on the knight’s neck.
“Dead.”
They traveled two more cycles, pressing the weary cargans to their limit. Now, when they halted, they didn’t unpack, but slept on the ground, the reins of the cargans wrapped around their wrists. They were giddy with exhaustion and lack of food. Their meager supplies had run out and they dared not take time to hunt. They talked little, saving their breath, riding with slumped shoulders, bent heads. The only thing that could rouse them was a strange sound behind them.
The breaking of a tree limb would cause them to jerk up, swinging around fearfully in the saddle, peering into the shadows. Often the humans and the elf fell asleep while riding, swaying in the saddle until they slumped sideways and came to themselves with a start. The dwarf, riding last, bringing up the rear, watched all with a smile.
Paithan marveled at the dwarf, even as the elf’s uneasiness over Drugar grew. He never appeared fatigued; he often volunteered to keep watch while the others slept.
Paithan woke from terrifying dreams in which he imagined Drugar, dagger in hand, slipping up on him as he slept. Starting awake, the elf always found Drugar sitting patiently beneath a tree, hands folded across the beard that fell in long curls over his stomach. Paithan might have laughed at his fear. After all, the dwarf had saved their lives. Looking back at Drugar, riding behind them, or glancing at him during the few times they stopped to rest, the elf saw the gleam in the watchful black eyes, eyes that seemed to be always waiting, and Paithan’s laughter died on his lips.
Paithan was thinking about the dwarf, wondering what drove him, what terrible fuel kept such a fire burning, when Rega’s shout roused him from his bleak reverie.
“The ferry!” She pointed at a crude sign, tacked up onto a tree trunk. “The trail ends here. We have to go back to the-”
Her voice was cut off by a horrible sound, a wail that rose from hundreds of throats, a collective scream.
“The main highway!” Paithan clutched his reins with sweating, trembling hands. “The tytans have reached the main highway.”
The elf saw in his mind the stream of humanity, saw the giant, eyeless creatures come upon it. He saw the people scatter, try to flee, but there was nowhere to go on the wide-open plains, no escape. The stream would turn to a river of blood.
Rega pressed her hands against her ears. “Shut up!” she was screaming over and over, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”