“You better land soon!” shouted Nakor. “My arms are getting tired.”
They were flying to the east of the highway, just above the treetops, with Nakor dangling from his staff, which Miranda held below her as she flew. They had appeared at a fishing village near Quester’s View. It had been deserted. Miranda had picked up Nakor and had flown across the highway, some distance away from a few campfires, and then had turned northward. They had flown past the campfires of both sides, past a large static position that had Nakor puzzled. He knew something significant had occurred for Greylock to have halted his northward march.
Miranda came in for a landing, letting go of Nakor’s staff. He landed with an audible “oof,” as he struck the ground hard. “Sorry,” she said as she landed. “My wrists were starting to hurt.”
“When you said we could fly together, I thought you had a spell that would carry both of us,” Nakor said as he stood up, brushing himself off. “I almost hurt myself on my staff.”
“Well, if you’d left the thing behind like I told you to it wouldn’t have happened.” She sounded very unsympathetic.
Nakor laughed. “You will be an excellent mother someday.”
She said, “Not until Pug and I feel the world is a safer place than it is right now.”
“Being alive is being at risk,” said Nakor as he adjusted his garment and recovered his staff. “Now, let us see if we can sneak into the enemy camp.”
“How do you propose to do it?”
“Like I always do: act like I belong. Just stay close behind me and, please, one thing.”
“What?”
“Don’t lose your temper.”
Miranda’s expression clouded and she said, “I don’t have a temper!”
Nakor grinned. “There, you’re doing it now.”
“You insufferable little man!” she said, walking off ahead of him.
“Miranda!”
“What!” she shouted, looking over her shoulder.
Nakor hurried to catch up, and said, “For a woman of your experience, you can be very childish.”
Miranda seemed on the verge of saying something. She stood still for a moment, then finally said, “You don’t know me, Nakor. You may have been my mother’s first husband, but you know nothing of me. You don’t know what my childhood was like. You don’t know what it was to be raised by imperial agents. If I’m childish, it may be because I had no childhood.”
“Whatever the reasons, please try to keep from getting us killed,” said Nakor as he walked by her. Softly he said, “And for a woman your age, you are very concerned about things that happened a very long time ago.”
She hurried to stay up with him. “What?”
Nakor turned to face her, and for the first time since she had met him, there was not one shred of humor in the man’s expression. He gazed at her with an expression that could only be called intimidating. And for a moment, she glimpsed the power he had within him. Softly he said, “The past can be a terrible weight bound to you by an unbreakable chain. You can drag it with you, forever looking over your shoulder at what holds you back. Or you can let it go and move forward. It’s your choice. For those who live centuries, it’s a very important choice.”
He turned and walked away from her.
Miranda stood a moment, then caught up with him again. This time she said nothing.
They worked their way down through trees on the western face of the Calastius Mountains. They had passed the battlelines several miles to the south, where Greylock’s army had established a fixed front. Nakor said, “Something strange has happened. Greylock is dug in down south, at least that’s what it looked like from up there”—he pointed skyward—”as you sped along. It looks like he’s digging in, perhaps against a counterattack.”
Miranda said, “I don’t know. Maybe they’re going to wait for supplies sent up to that fishing village where we landed.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think so.” From the battlefield the stench of the dead filled the night air. Thousands of bodies littered the field. “This is very bad. To leave the dead unburied is an evil thing.”
North of the battlefield a structure was being built. It appeared to be a fortress of some type, but as they neared it, they could see it was actually a series of large buildings linked together by huge wooden fences a uniform twenty feet high. Men were camped around fires scattered around the periphery. “Look,” said Nakor, “they don’t camp too close.”
“What is it?” asked Miranda as they came near the edge of the sheltering trees.
“Something very bad I think. A temple, maybe.”
“Temple to what?”
“Let’s go find out.” He glanced around. “Over there.”