Chapter 41
ERANN
Erann woke to bright sun pouring into the cave. He must have slept half the day away. He heard a crash and turned his head to see Emma swinging her pot back into place over the fire. Then everything from the day before came crashing back and for a moment he was consumed with anguish.
‘Emma, Skaldi,’ he called.
Emma abandoned her cooking. Skaldi poked his huge, golden head inside the cavern entrance. There was no reason to be secretive any more. He and Emma could talk freely to the great golden dragon. The dragon’s green eyes sparkled as sunlight bathed him in molten liquid.
For all that, Skaldi seemed lesser, somehow. Erann noted it, but he couldn’t think about that now. All he could think about was Sereh.
‘Do you know where she is?’ he questioned Skaldi.
Yes, and I could go and get her, but how is more of a problem. She can’t see me. She doesn’t even know I exist. Even if she did, I’ve no guarantee she’d come back. The dragon’s response was gentle, filled with understanding.
‘I could come with you,’ Emma suggested, a little reluctantly, Erann thought.
Yes, you could, but she distrusts you, I’m afraid. And I cannot transport you both and her four-legged friend on my back. Nor, as we saw yesterday, can we leave Erann alone. You and I were only gone for an afternoon. In that time, he’s undone much of the healing.
‘By the Gods,’ Erann growled. He knew he’d injured himself again yesterday in his desperate bid to go after Sereh, but he didn’t know how much damage he’d caused. It must be bad if Skaldi had mentioned it.
Perhaps we should leave her, Skaldi mused.
She cannot see me. She will not believe you now if you tried to explain, Erann.
I know you have feelings for her. Erann hoped Emma couldn’t hear Skaldi’s half of the conversation.
I understand. But we have bigger things to worry about.
You need to get well. I shall move you and Emma to rún-ketill.
You will be safer there. Once that’s accomplished, I’ll seek Sereh.
Until then, I can keep following her movements from a distance.
Erann felt his frustration increasing.
‘I understand, Skaldi, I do. But I want Sereh back – she belongs here, with me. But she won’t come back unless she trusts me. I need to be able to tell her the truth.’
I can’t allow you to tell her anything, he said, slowly, almost regretfully. You don’t know everything you need to know. You must be patient.
Erann wanted to scream. Patience had defined his life for eight rotations.
He was done being patient. He wanted to start living again.
His father was dead, his mother was killing herself, and his sister had sacrificed herself to save their family and was now bound to a man they both loathed.
None of that could be undone. None of it could be fixed.
But Sereh was real. Solid. Immediate. He needed her with an ache so deep he felt hollow without her. Fierce words of denial burned on the tip of his tongue when Skaldi’s attention snapped from him towards Emma. His huge green eyes swam with sudden concern.
Erann twisted towards where Emma had been standing.
She was gone.
He couldn’t believe she’d just abandoned the conversation. But Skaldi had lowered his huge muzzle to the floor and was twisting his huge head from side to side. Erann’s gaze dropped.
Emma lay curled at the dragon’s feet, whimpering softly.
‘Emma,’ he cried, fighting with the heavy furs to get to her.
He hissed sharply as pain lanced through him once more. He knew he was healing quickly – but it wasn’t fast enough. And yesterday, he’d undone some of the healing.
‘What’s the matter with her?’ he demanded, still fighting with his coverings. He was making no progress, and sweat beaded his face. ‘What happened?’
I don’t know. I cannot sense her with my mind. It’s as if she’s no longer there.
‘How can that be? Is she sick?’
I’m not sure. Let me think. I’ll try to find a way to connect with her.
Emma’s soft whimpers had stopped now, but she wasn’t moving. Erann was frantic. He shuffled up his makeshift bed, trying to reach her without knocking his splinted leg too much.
He stretched out, twisting his body, and thrust his hand onto her forehead and shuddered. Her skin was glacially cold.
‘Emma,’ he called softly, rearing back and balancing on his elbow so he could see her face. Her eyes were open and unseeing.
‘Emma,’ he called again. He gently rocked her shoulder.
She didn’t react.
‘Skaldi,’ he spoke to the dragon. ‘What’s happening to her? You must be able to sense it. Emma,’ he tried again.
Erann pulled a fur from under him, ignoring the pain shooting up his leg, and flung it over her cold body. He could keep her warm. He didn’t know what else to do. Skaldi didn’t reply to his frantic questions.
He lay panting after his efforts. He reached for her forehead again.
She remained cold. But breathing. What was happening?
He heard a shush of noise. His eyes narrowed.
He peered all around him, and then back at Emma.
It came from her. Her lips were moving. He leaned closer, concentrating, trying to make out what she was saying.
‘Shield,’ she whispered, ‘shield,’ over and over again.
‘Did you hear that?’ He looked to Skaldi. ‘What does that mean?’
But the dragon remained absorbed in his thoughts, staring far off into the distance.
‘Skaldi,’ Erann called. ‘Did you hear that?’
Skaldi, he shouted in his mind when the dragon still didn’t respond.
Skaldi’s glowing eyes focused on him in surprise. Erann? Yes?
‘Emma keeps saying “shield”. What does it mean?’
Skaldi’s expression turned from one of confusion to one of deep concentration. Even in this short time, Erann had come to associate it with him listening to the thoughts of others. As Erann watched, comprehension dawned on the dragon’s face. He began to back out of the cave.
‘I have to get her home. She’s been outside the shield for too long. All that time she’s been with my kind, she’s not aged, and now she is, all in one go. I must get her home if I’m to save her. I’ll have to carry her.’
He extended a huge front claw and delicately picked Emma up.
Back to where? Erann asked, fear and frustration building within him. Emma was ill. Skaldi was taking her away. Sereh was gone. And he’d be left entirely on his own, unable to fend for himself.
‘Skaldi?’ he said aloud. ‘I don’t know how… I can’t even…’
But the dragon was moving carefully out of the cave, holding Emma high, so he didn’t jar her.
He pulled his long neck out into the sun, then stretched his wings and, with a shuddering noise that could have set off another avalanche, launched himself into the air, gaining height incredibly quickly with cracking wings.
I’ll be back soon, stretched into Erann’s head. He kept in contact with Skaldi’s thoughts for as long as he could. Eventually, they faded and once more he was alone.
He felt reassured and then angry with himself. He was so bloody useless at the moment.
He lay back in his bed, feeling hungry and thirsty. It didn’t help that a tantalising aroma emanated from the cooking pot.
He considered what he should do. He needed to eat.
He needed something to drink. Without Skaldi to dull the pain, he was acutely aware of it every time he moved, but it was much more manageable than before.
He cast about for something he could use to help him walk.
He found another length of wood – thicker and more sturdy than the last time he attempted it – and used it to hoist himself up.
He was gasping with pain by the time he stood, but he felt a glimmer of hope. He could do this.
He spotted a second stick, a little shorter, and managed to pick that up as well. Balancing with these crutches, he was able to inch his way across the cave floor towards the campfire, urged on by the smells wafting from the cookpot.
Emma had left a flask of water and a bundle of the herbs on a flat rock – she must have been planning to make more tea before she’d taken ill, he thought guiltily. He poured a cup and added a handful of herbs. The tea was cold and bitter, but he drank deeply, knowing it would do him good.
He knocked the soggy bundle of leaves back onto the board, scooped a bowl of stew from the pot and ate hungrily.
Then he sank onto the floor.
He stoked the fire and added a log from a pile Emma had left, magicked out of nowhere. It blazed merrily.
Tiredness washed over him. He pulled a fur around his shoulders and allowed sleep to come.
He was alone. He was in pain. But he’d done it.