"Prove yourself strong," the chieftain said. "Kill it now, and you'll prove yourself worthy to be my bride."

Again Laira shook her head, scattering smoke. "Strength is not measured by killing an enemy but by showing that enemy mercy." She released her magic and stood at the edge of the pit, a human again. "I proved this strength to you here. Now honor your word. Join our tribes together." She took a step closer to him. "Fight with us."

The chieftain dismounted his ptero, approached her, and stared at her with hard eyes, judging, scrutinizing. He towered above her; her head didn't even reach his shoulders. Armor of bones, copper plates, and clay covered his chest, and the bronze tips of his weapons gleamed in the torchlight. With gruff fingers, he touched her cheek.

"You are strong, Laira of Goldtusk, Laira of Eteer . . . Laira of Requiem." To her surprise, he knelt before her and clasped her hand in his. "We will be wed. Our tribes will unite. And then, Laira . . ." Fire burned in his eyes. "Then we will slay demons together."

She took a deep, shuddering breath, and for the first time in many days, hope kindled inside her. A shadow stirred ahead, and she looked over Oritan's shoulder. Jeid stood there, staring at her, and no hope filled his eyes, only cold, haunting hardness.

MAEV

 
MAEV

"So where the Abyss is this place, Alina?" Gliding on an air current, Maev spat out flame. "We've been flying for days now, and I see no damn dragons. Are you leading us on a wild mammoth hunt?"

The lavender dragon flew beside her. A drizzle fell, and drops shone upon her scales. The druid stared ahead into the misty distance. Forests rolled under the rain into a green haze, and the blue-and-gray sky roiled above like a sea. "The stars are veiled but their whispers still guide my way. Other Vir Requis live in the west. We will find them."

Maev twisted her jaw, not as sure. They had seen no signs of humans, dragons, or any other intelligent life for days now. Past the mountains, which they had crossed two days ago, rolled a forest that seemed endless, lusher than the woods back in Requiem. The canopy was so thick Maev couldn't see through it, and only a silver stream broke the green carpet, coiling across the land like a great dragon's tail. Birds flew below and distant thunder rolled. No villages. No wandering tribes that Maev could see. And certainly no dragons.

"If you ask me, those stars are nothing but pretty lights." Maev grunted. "Gods that can guide us? I'm guided by my heart. That's it. Not pretty sky lights."

With a twist to that heart, she thought of her grandfather, the wise druid Eranor. The kindly old man, fallen to the rocs, had believed in the power of the stars. He had prayed to the Draco constellation, had tried to get Maev to pray too. She never would.