Land of Dragon

39

The Passengers



That night, Treylen slept with a restfulness he hadn’t earned. He

dreamt of hearthstones carved from obsidian and of warm caverns in the wintertime. He dreamt of burnt wheat fields and of children sleeping in the curl of a dragon’s tail in the hold of a weather-beaten ship.

He woke with a start to a gust of wind and the sound of wings as six dragons, with four riders between them, descended on the campsite. The others were on their feet, and he pulled himself up and put his back to Oakwren’s as the dragons landed around them, riders dismounting.

All six of them were a pale misty white, but as quickly as they landed, their color shifted to a black-purple obsidian.

“I’d thought that Cyndrael would be here,” Treylen said. “She is tending Volgnash.”

“I understand.” Treylen nodded briskly. If he pressed further there might be no ride home either.

There were no introductions. The women and men looked their guests over then directed the lowsater to climb onto the two larges