The dragon’s grumble vibrated the ground. <Where should we take the poison inside the city?>
I closed my eyes and thought about what places might be clear, what places would be easy for dragons to reach, while difficult for Deborl and his guards. “The Councilhouse roof. We can get into the temple from there, release the poison, and duck away quickly.”
“And we’ll fly onto the roof?” Whit asked. “Magically?”
“I’m sure Stef will come up with something.”
Stef sighed and nodded. “Of course I will.”
<That is acceptable to us. Take us to the poison.>
I motioned at Sam and the others to stay behind; they could start setting up camp. A handful of sylph came with us, melting snow and ice from our path.
<Are you sure you don’t want us to carry you to the city? Your legs are so small. It will take you days to walk there on your own.>
“We can’t just ride dragons up to the city,” I muttered.
Besides, I wouldn’t subject Sam to another dragon ride if I didn’t have to. It seemed like we were safest if Sam and the dragons stayed far away from one another.
“Be careful with the canisters,” I cautioned. “If they open before we’re ready, we’ve lost. There’s only one chance.”
The dragons decided to wait until evening to take the canisters, but they stayed far out of our way the entire time they were in the area. We only heard them from a distance, crashing through trees and rumbling. Even the buzzing din of their dialogue was far away, allowing us to pick through the wreckage of the lab for a few hours in peace.
Little was salvageable. Stef found a few things she wanted to keep, and I found the canister that had been filling when we left the lab. There was nothing in it now—the poison had dispersed long ago—and there were no others lying around. So the lab had been destroyed shortly after we left.
I called Sarit to update her, and as evening fell, dragon thunder cracked the sky. We all went outside to watch Acid Breath and his friends take off, our hope clasped in their teeth and talons. Their bodies slithered through the air, scales reflecting the last rays of sunlight as they climbed higher and higher.
When they were out of sight, Sam’s posture relaxed, and we both retreated into the tent where sylph warmed our sleeping bags and heated a pot of soup.
-Animals are leaving Range.- Cris’s song was low, worried. The others hummed their concern, too.
They curled around us, closer than our own shadows, and in the heat I saw flashes of snow-choked forest with deer trails but no deer, trees with bird nests but no birds, and hollows with small animal dens but no small animals. Dry riverbeds, drained ponds with fish rotting in the bottom, and watering holes with prints stamped into the cracked mud. Hot springs were gone. Mud pools had hardened. Geysers hissed steam and nothing more.
-Range is falling apart. There will be little to eat until we reach Heart.-
And then there’d be whatever was in warehouses, no doubt closely rationed by Deborl. Sarit hadn’t mentioned she was going hungry, so I hoped she was doing all right. Water, we could at least get in the form of melted snow.
“Thanks, Cris.” Sam dropped to our sleeping bags and massaged his temples. Lines of weariness crossed his face, and circles darkened under his eyes. He needed a shower and shave. I couldn’t imagine I looked much better. “I’m so glad the dragons are gone.”
I sat next to him and rested my hand on his knee. “Me too. Though I’m relieved they’re helping, even if it’s because they’re trying to get rid of you.”
He winced. “It’s hard to accept that for the last five thousand years, they’ve been coming to Heart to find out whether I’m still alive, and then kill me.”
“Not just kill you, but destroy the place where your reincarnation happens. How do they know that?”
“I wish I knew.”
“And furthermore, how do they identify you every lifetime? Acid Breath made it sound like he could see the song in you, but what does it look like? How does he know? And is he the only one?”
Sam opened his mouth, but I wasn’t finished.
“He said they don’t reincarnate, but do they live longer than humans? Why are they so afraid of the phoenix song? They’ve made your death a priority for thousands of years, and not only is that rude, it’s just so focused. I just don’t understand. And you know, if they didn’t spend so much time trying to kill you, we might never have figured out that you have the phoenix song.”
He gave a soft snort. “I can give you a few answers, but there’s a lot we don’t know about dragons, and probably never will.
“I hate not knowing the truth.”