look any further than yourself?” Kyra asked. “Can you not be your own hero?”
Dierdre scoffed.
“And why would I?”
“You are a hero to me,” Kyra said. “What you suffered in there – I could not suffer. You survived. More than that – you are back on your feet and thriving even now. That makes you a hero to me.”
Dierdre seemed to contemplate her words as they continued on in the silence.
“And you, Kyra?” Dierdre finally asked. “Tell me something about you.”
Kyra shrugged, wondering.
“What would you like to know?”
Dierdre cleared her throat.
“Tell me of the dragon. What happened back there? I’ve never seen anything like it. Why did he come for you?” She hesitated. “Who are you?”
Kyra was surprised to detect fear in her friend’s voice. She pondered her words, wanting to answer truthfully, and wished she had the answer.
“I don’t know,” she finally answered, truthfully. “I suppose that is what I am going to find out.”
“You don’t know?” Dierdre pressed. “A dragon swoops down from the sky to fight for you, and you don’t know why?”
Kyra thought about how crazy that sounded, yet she could only shake her head. She looked up reflexively at the skies, and between the gnarled branches, despite all hope, she hoped for a sign of Theos.
But saw nothing but gloom. She heard no dragon, and her sense of isolation deepened.
“You know that you are different, don’t you?” Dierdre pressed.
Kyra shrugged, her cheeks burning, feeling self-conscious. She wondered if her friend looked at her as if she were some kind of freak.
“I used to be so sure of everything,” Kyra replied. “But now…I honestly don’t know anymore.”
They continued riding for hours, falling back into a comfortable silence, sometimes trotting when the wood opened up, at other times the wood so dense they needed to dismount and lead their beasts. Kyra felt on edge the entire time, feeling as if they could be attacked at any moment, never able to relax in this forest. She did not know what hurt her more: the cold or the hunger pains ripping through her stomach. Her muscles ached, and she couldn’t feel her lips. She was miserable. She could hardly conceive their quest had barely begun.
After hours more passed, Leo began to whine. It was a strange noise – not his usual whine, but the one he reserved for times when he smelled food. At the same moment Kyra, too, smelled something – and Dierdre turned in the same direction and stared.
Kyra peered through the wood, but saw nothing. As they stopped and listened, she began to hear the faintest sound of activity somewhere up ahead.
Kyra was both excited by the smell and nervous about what that could mean: others were sharing this wood with them. She recalled her father’s warning, and the last thing she wanted was a confrontation. Not here and not now.
Dierdre looked at her.
“I’m famished,” Dierdre said.
Kyra, too, felt the hunger pangs.
“Whoever it is, on a night like this,” Kyra replied, “I have a feeling they won’t be keen to share.”
“We have plenty of gold,” Dierdre said. “Perhaps they will sell us some.”
But Kyra shook her head, having a sinking feeling, while Leo whined and licked his lips, clearly famished, too.
“I don’t think it’s wise,” Kyra said, despite the pains in her stomach. “We should stick to our path.”
“And if we find no food?” Dierdre persisted. “We could all die of hunger out here. Our horses, too. It could be days, and this might be our only chance. Besides, we have little to fear. You have your weapons, I have mine, and we have Leo and Andor. If you need to, you could put three arrows in someone before he blinked – and we could be far off by then.”
But Kyra hesitated, unconvinced.
“Besides, I doubt a hunter with a spit of meat will cause us all any harm,” Dierdre added.
Kyra, sensing everyone else’s hunger, their desire to pursue it, could resist no longer.
“I don’t like it,” she said. “Let us go slowly and see who it is. If we sense trouble, you must agree to leave before we get close.”
Dierdre nodded.
“I promise you,” she replied.
They all headed off, riding at a fast walk through the woods. As the smell grew stronger, Kyra saw a dim glow up ahead, and as they rode for it, her heart beat faster as she wondered who it could be out here.
They slowed as they approached, riding more cautiously, weaving between the trees. The glow grew brighter, the noise louder, the commotion greater, as Kyra sensed they were on the periphery of a large group of people.
Dierdre, less cautious, letting her hunger get the best of her, rode faster, moving up ahead and gaining a bit of distance.
“Dierdre!” Kyra hissed, urging her back.
But Dierdre kept moving, seemingly overcome by her hunger.
Kyra hurried to keep up with her, and as she did, the glow became brighter as Dierdre stopped at the edge of a clearing. As Kyra stopped beside her, looked past her into a clearing in the wood, she was shocked by what she saw.
There, in the clearing, were dozens of pigs roasting on spits, huge bonfires lighting up the night. The smell was captivating. Also in the clearing were dozens of men, and as Kyra squinted, her heart dropped to see they were Pandesian soldiers. She was shocked to see them here, sitting around fires, laughing, jesting with each other, holding sacks of wine, hands full of chunks of meat.
On the far side of the clearing, Kyra’s heart dropped to see a cluster of iron carriages with bars. Dozens of gaunt faces stared out hungrily, the faces of boys and men, all desperate, all captives. Kyra realized at once what this was.
“The Flames,” she hissed to Dierdre. “They are bringing them to The Flames.”
Dierdre, still a good fifteen feet ahead, did not turn back, her eyes fixed on the roasting pigs.
“Dierdre!” Kyra hissed, feeling a sense of alarm. “We must leave this place at once!”
Dierdre, though, still did not listen, and Kyra, throwing caution to the wind, rushed forward to grab her.
No sooner had she reached her when suddenly, Kyra sensed motion out of the corner of her eyes. At the same moment Leo and Andor snarled – but it was too late. From out of the wood there suddenly emerged a group of Pandesian soldiers, casting a huge net before them.
Kyra turned and instinctively reached back to draw her staff, but there was no time. Before she could even register what was happening, Kyra felt the net falling down on her, binding her arms, and she
