Chapter 32: By Dawn's Light

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"You should tell Aymeri. He's your leader, isn't he?" Evenfall asks, holding Talfryn close, hoping to keep him from rushing into danger.

"Morvyn and I have a pact," Talfryn says, "We've kept his dealings with the human a girl secret. I'll rescue him from his captors, alone, and none will be the wiser. My father cannot know about this."

"It's a dangerous secret you and Morvyn keep, and look at where it lead him. Now you'll put yourself in these mortals' hands, too," she protests, her lips trembling.

"Have some faith in me, Evie," Talfryn says, smiling confidently, "Morvyn was caught while in this form. I'll be coming at them in my dragon form. The mortals will have no chance."

"But--" Evenfall interjects.

"No buts, Evie," Talfryn whispers, pulling her close to tate her lips, her tongue, once more before he sets out for battle, "Go to sleep. I'll rescue Morvyn and be back by dawn's light, to wake you with a kiss."

Evenfall reluctantly loosens her hold of him and lets him go. She's never been able to stop him from doing what he wanted, not in the tens of thousands of years that he's been her lover. He is strong and fierce, she tells herself as she lays back in their bed, alone. Nothing bad will happen to him. Whatever danger he seeks, he always comes back to her.

They've made good time, but the didn't set out until late in the afternoon, and night fell before they were halfway to Odet, so Reinier ordered his men to stop at a spring by the roadside, to make camp and water their horses. With their prisoner in tow, it's better that they don't impose on the hospitality of the scattered farmhouses in the area.

Some of his men take the opportunity to sleep, but Reinier is restless, and keeps watch with Harald. He has a prisoner to interrogate, a possible font of knowledge about the habits of dragons, but Reinier's mind is occupied elsewhere. The way he left things with Sterren, walking away from her in anger...he should have stayed, taken the time to explain to her how important thing wilder is, how much he could learn from him. She's not the meek, quiet type of woman he was raised by, she won't bow to his commands without question as he was taught to expect from a wife. And that is so much of what he loves about her, her spirit, her ferocity. He was a fool to try to make her into anything else...

"My lord," Harald's voice breaks through Reinier's brooding, "Do you hear that?"

Reinier turns his attention back out into the world, and hears the cry of a dragon in flight, moving closer.

"Dragon!" he calls out, drawing his sword, waking his sleeping men. "It's coming our way. It seems our prey is disappointed that we're leaving before we've finished the hunt."

Morvyn has accepted that he might have to die to protect the secrets of his kind, to keep this dragon slayer from learning that their captive actually is a dragon.  He brought this on himself, Morvyn thinks, for taking such risks to be with Gaelle, and it is only right he should be the one to pay the price. 

He would give his life and more to warn Talfryn away from these mortals with their magic metal, but to even cry out now would confirm the dragon slayer's suspicions about 'wilders' being somehow connected to dragons. And even if he did cry out, he knows Talfryn well, a warning wouldn't stop him now. He will have his victory over these mortals, or he will die, and Morvyn, bound by the metal that weakens him, can do nothing but watch in horror as his friend succumbs to the deadly power of the mortal's metal weapons.

Some miles north of Odet, another group of travelers makes camp for the night in a clearing in the thick forests.

"This was a dragon's nest, once," Kelyn observes, breaking the silence of their quiet vigil, "I can feel the wards left behind."

"I feel it as well," the alfar responds, "It's careless of your kind to leave these pools of magic behind. Who knows what foul use could be made of it?"

"It's a dragon ward," Kelyn answers with a shrug, "Who else could use it?"

"You don't know enough about the world or who resides in it to make such assumptions," Ceyrth says, and falls back into thoughtful silence. In the far north, where he is from, they'd never seen a dragon before Kelyn's people came to them from the south. The dragons then mistook his kind for a creature they call 'the fae', as though sharing a few physical characteristics made them the same. After that followed treacherous period where the dragons poised to go to war, based on some bizarre law of their kind, which was eventually averted by the cunning diplomacy of the alfar, as well as their overwhelming numbers and likelihood of their victory if the dragons had gone so far as to attack them. Once truce was established and an alliance formed, the alfar were able to learn no more about the fae from their new friends, who by and large seemed to have little interest in learning about the ways of others who share the world with them, and brought no interesting tales of their land of origin or its inhabitants.

The alfar are, by nature, curious about these things, so when Kelyn told him she and a few others of her kind were setting out for their native lands in the south, Ceyrth asked to join them, to see more of the world, to meet these fae for himself, and report back to his kind with new information.

Ceyrth rises suddenly, without making a sound, his hand making a quick subtle gesture that tells Kelyn he's listening to something.

A dragon's sense of hearing is not so sharp as an alfar's, but with some concentration, Kelyn picks it up, too. The unmistakable sound of the death cry of a dragon.

Inira and Fearghus wake just in time to hear the last cry.

"Talfryn," Inira identifies the voice as it dies away into silence, "My brother."

Inira falls into her mate's arms for comfort.

"It seems the dragon slayer has preceded you," Ceyrth says, his voice quiet, meant for Kelyn's ears alone. Inira and Fearghus had lost one of their nest to the dragon slayer's sword, had seen too many of their kind hunted and slaughtered, and were heading back to their homeland where they might be free of this human predator.

Inira and Fearghus were born in these lands, and had known Talfryn since they were born. Though Kelyn, daughter of Dechtire, is Talfryn's aunt, she was born in the north and never knew any of her southern relations except by name. Still, she grieves for Talfryn as she would any dragon taken by the mortal hunter who preys on their kind, but that grief is subsumed by her anger, rising in a hot wave over her. She had come on this not journey not to flee the dangers of her home, but to start a nest of her own in the homeland of her people. And she's not going to allow the dragon slayer to hunt her future children down here as he does in the north.

"Go with Inira and Fearghus to Aymeri's camp," she says to Ceyrth, "I'm going to follow after the dragon slayer, and make an end to end to him."

"It was I who taught you how to wield that sword you carry, and how to throw a dagger," Ceyrth says, "I won't let you go after this hunter alone."

"This isn't your fight, Ceyrth," Kelyn insists.

"I choose my own battles, Kelyn," Ceyrth says with firm finality, "I'm choosing to fight with you."

Morvyn keeps his face as still and unmoving as stone. He will not allow his captors to see his grief.

"That dragon came looking for you, didn't he?" the dragon slayer demands.

He did, and he died for my mistake, Morvyn thinks, wishing this mortal would just put an end to him and be done with it. But he says nothing.

"There is a connection between your kind and the dragons," Reinier insists, grabbing the wilder by the chin, "I will have it from you."

Even with his senses dulled by the magic blue metal, Morvyn can smell Talfryn's blood on this man. But still, he keeps his grief, his rage, in check, and shows no feeling at all, his face as unmoved as death. They will make him suffer and die a long cruel death, Morvyn knows this, but they will get nothing from him, no matter what they do to him.

Reinier drops his hand and cuffs his captive in disgust. "Break camp," he calls to his men, "Set fire to that corpse and prepare to move out before the sun rises. We won't sit here waiting for more of them."

Aymeri awakens in the hours before dawn, rising at the hunting hour even on nights when he doesn't need to hunt. Ico sleeps beside him, lost in her dreams.

Her wings open and close, making a tinkling sound with each pass, in time with her breathing. Evenfall had been born with her wings, but for the other fairies, they just appeared, suddenly one day, in a surprising variety of shapes and colors. There was no explanation given for this sudden change, and, fairies being fairies, they simply accepted these new parts of themselves like they accept the changes in the weather, without question. Dragons, however, found them fascinating, and took great pleasure in trying to touch them and watching them pass through their hands as though they were nothing at all. Even after so many centuries, that sense of wonder has not entirely worn off.

It doesn't hurt her when he rolls her over onto her back, letting the wings pass through the bed, but she does rouse to his touch, a sleepy arm reaching out for him, her husky voice asking him if it's morning yet.

"Soon, beloved," he tells her, running his hands over her thigh, meaning to keep her awake, to make love to her as the day breaks.

Aymeri sits up with a jolt as the death cry of his son reaches his ears.

"What is it?" Ico asks, sitting up beside him, not hearing what he hears.

"Talfryn," Aymeri groans, umping out bed and dressing hastily.

Evenfall awakens to the anxious voices of dragons in the common room, and no Talfryn in her bed beside her, so she goes out to join them, hoping he's with them.

"Is Talfryn not here?" she asks meekly.

"Talfryn is dead," Aymeri says, his voice rasping with grief as he holds back his tears. "His death cry woke us all. Where did he go last night, Evenfall?"

"I begged him to tell you," Evenfall cries, "I pleaded with him not go after him. But he said he would bring him back and be home before the day break. He said he would wake me with a kiss."

"You aren't making sense, Evie," Seirian says gently, trying to guide her through her sorrow, "Who did he go after?"

"Morvyn," Evie says, and tells about Moth's visit, and the information he'd gotten from Sterren.

"This dragon slayer has Morvyn captive?" Seirian asks, falling to his knees beside Aymeri.

For a few minutes, there is only grief.

Then, Aymeri rises, growling in rage, "I will destroy them all, burn their village to the ground for what they've done."

"You will not, my love," Ico says, gentling him with her voice, restraining him with her hands, "These villagers did not take Morvyn or kill Talfryn. Moth said the dragon slayer was bringing him to the town at the place where the two rivers meet."

"Then I will burn them to the ground," Aymeri growls, his anger unabated.

"Please, my love, calm yourself," Ico pleads, "It will do no one any good for you to rush into the same death Talfryn found when he chased these mortals, or to rouse the mortals to anger by attacking unprovoked."

"Unprovoked? They killed my son! What would you have me do, Ico?" Aymeri turns on her, "I cannot let this mortal go unpunished! I must have vengeance."

Ico stands calm in the face of his anger "I would not stop you from taking your revenge. But, think, my love, the mortal still has Morvyn. Before you burn them all to the ground, you must see him freed."

"We must get my son back," Seirian rises to join their conversation.

"Then let's go," Aymeri says.

"Wait!" Ico calls Aymeri back before he can rush off without a plan. "Do you even know where you're going, or how you're going to free Morvyn?"

"To the place where the two rivers met," Aymeri says, "When we find where they've taken Morvyn, we'll free him and then kill his captors."

"That's not really a plan," Riain points out quietly, joining their circle.

"We're three dragons, how could these humans possibly stop us?"

"Morvyn mentioned to me that the mortals who attacked him and Talfryn a few nights ago had some kind of magic that weakened them," Seirian says, forcing his reason to overcome his grief, for the sake of his son. "I don't think they'd be able to take him captive, or kill Talfryn, without it. And, even in our greater numbers, we're taking a huge risk in just flying at them and hoping for the best. If we're going to rescue Morvyn, we'll need to find a way to do it that doesn't involve engaging them in open combat."

"What else is there?" Aymeri asks.

The dragons are left stumped for an answer. Seirian turns to Ico, "What would you do?"

"Moth said he was informed of Morvyn's capture by a human woman, one of Uvie's line.  We could go to her for help," Ico suggests. Before Aymeri can protests, she continues, "Moth, Shayeleigh and I will do this. There's no need for dragons to show themselves to her."

"Not Shayeleigh," Riain cuts in, "It's too dangerous."

"I can do this," Shayeleigh ays, "I want to help get Morvyn back."

"Shayeleigh..." he protests, his worry conveyed in his tone.

"Riain," she says his name with a firm resolve, and that simple exchange is enough for them to form an understanding. Shayeleigh will go with the other fairies to enlist the aid of the human girl, and rescue Morvyn.

The fairies set out as morning breaks, leaving the dragons to mourn their loss alone.

For Evenfall, there's no thirst for vengeance. The mortals will die on their own in time, and their deaths will not bring Talfryn back to her, their suffering will not ease hers. What she lost cannot be replaced, and all she has is the emptiness that was once a place full of love. Desolate, Evenfall shrinks herself into the smallest speck of light, and enters through the portal house her father had made for them, an entryway into his realm of dreams. He has known this grief, she thinks, when he lost her mother. If anyone can comfort her, Auberon can.

Sterren had spent a restless night, sleeping little, and that little sleep plague by nightmares of Reinier being killed by savage wilders, or the wilders themselves being slaughtered in their attempt to rescue their captive tribesman. Whatever happens as a result of her telling Moth about what she knew, it's on her head if anyone dies for it. In the morning, she goes to the sacred grove seeking the peace of meditation and solitude, only to be joined by Moth.

"What is it, my friend?" she asks nervously, needing to know if any of her troubled dreams came to pass, but fearing that knowledge at the same time, "Have you any news for me?"

Moth takes a form that can respond to her question. "I toldthem whatyou toldme," he tells her, "Nowthey needyour help."

"My help?" Sterren asks, "Is anyone hurt?"

"Come," Moth gestures, avoiding direct answer, leading her to the small pond to the side of the Lady's image.

Sterren always knew there were other fair folk besides just Moth, though Moth was the only one who'd ever shown himself to her. Moth had never said why he'd chosen to befriend her, and it coms as quite a surprise to be introduced to another of his kind, waiting for in the waters.

"I am Icovellauna of the Waters," the beautiful fairy says, "I've come to ask for aid in rescuing the captive you told Moth of yesterday."

"The wilder," Sterren says, "Are they of the fair folk?" There were some, she knew, that believed the wilders could not live in the enchanted forest without being magical themselves. That was what lead Reinier to take his captive, after all, the belief that he could get some knowledge of dragons from him. But, knowing Moth, Sterren had never believed there was a connection. Now, she's not so sure. Knowing Moth is not the same as knowing all there is to know about the fair folk, after all.

"No, but they are our friends," Ico tells her, "Will you come with us to the place where the two rivers meet, and help us find and rescue him?"

"To Odet?" Sterren asks, "Of course I will. The man who captured him is...he will let me into his keep," she says, stopping herself from revealing how intimate her relationship is with the wilder's captor. "I may even be able to free him myself." She should have thought of this before she ran off to tell Moth. "Your help will be much appreciated of course, Lady of the Waters," Sterren finishes deferentially.

"It's a long walk to Odet; I must go to my uncle's to borrow a horse," Sterren says to Moth.

"Noneed," Moth answers, "Shayeleigh willtake youthere." As he speaks, a horse walks into the grove from the nearby wood.

"She's not stolen, I hope?" Sterren asks.

"Shayeleigh chosetocome," Moth answers. 

"She didn't 'choose to come' from someone's stable, I hope?" Sterren tries again, not wanting to be accused of thievery, having no idea where Moth procured the horse.

The horse butts her nose against Sterren, gesturing for her to mount. She's no ordinary mare, Sterren realizes, but some sort of enchanted creature.

"I must stop at my house," Sterren tells the mare, and Moth, and the fairy floating in the pond, "I will need a proper dress to present myself in, and a few other things. And I will write to my uncle, to tell him I'm visiting a priest I know in Odet, to consult him on spiritual matters." Marrec and Gwencalon will assume she went to Odet chasing after after Reinier no matter what excuse she gives, and it's not too far wrong. She'll need to see him again to free his captive. 

Moth, in the form of a butterfly, follows along, sometimes flying around her head, sometimes resting on her shoulder or hair. If he sits very close to her ear, she can even make out his tiny voice. Ico said she'd be traveling by water and would meet them where the two rivers meet when they arrive.

Shayeleigh followed the road for a time, but turned into the enchanted forest when then came by its side. "Oh," Sterren gasped as she realised where they were going, "This forest is dangerous. Perhaps we should stay on the road..."

Shayeleigh continues forward, ad Moth whispers in Sterren's ear, "Notdangerous. Home."

Of course, Sterren giggles, she's the company of one of the fair folk and their enchanted mare. This forest and its magic belongs to them. "But, what of the Wolf?" she asks under her breath. Many who had braved this forest came back with terrifying tales of the wolfen man-creature who'd driven them out again.

Shayeleigh whickers reassuringly and Moth chimes in "Shayeleigh protectsyou fromthe Wolf."