Despite his words, Jeid noticed that his hand was trembling around Dorvin's arm. His teeth knocked together, and even breathing became a struggle.

Maev, his daughter, and Laira, his wife—the two women he loved most in this world—missing.

A thousand times since arriving in these caves, Jeid had summoned the memory, seeking clues. The sphinxes had crashed into them two marks south of here. Fire and blood had stormed over the trees. The enemy had flown among them, plowed through their lines, tore the dragons apart.

"Laira!" Jeid had howled. "Maev!"

He had caught only glimpses of their scales, and then sphinxes had slammed into him. The dragons had fled into the caves in a mad route, a chaos of screams and wails.

I thought you were behind us. I thought I'd find you here among the others. Now you're gone.

"Let us fly out," Dorvin said. He bared his teeth. "Let us fly out in glory and find them. And if they're fallen, let us avenge them."

A year ago, I would have flown with you, Dorvin, he thought. A year ago I didn't care for my life. But today the people of Requiem need me. They need us. They need leaders. They need warriors.

He shook his head. "Dorvin, go replace Bryn. Now. We will not fly out, not until our very last breath. Not while there is life here to protect."

Dorvin's eyes flashed. "And we hide here—for what? To die of starvation, of thirst? There is no hope here!" His eyes reddened. "At least I would die a warrior, crashing against the enemy. I—"

"So long as the sphinxes are besieging these caves, they're not hunting Laira and Maev. If nothing else, our presence here—even if we have no hope—keeps the enemy off their tails. But I believe there is hope, Dorvin. There is always hope, even in the shadows, even when all light seems lost. Go. Relieve Bryn. Protect the cave."

Dorvin gnashed his teeth and clenched his fists. Thoughts seemed to be racing through his mind. Finally, with a grunt, the young man nodded and stormed off.

Jeid watched him leave. He is young and fiery and loves my daughter. Please, stars of Requiem, if you can hear my prayers, shine upon Maev and Laira. Shine upon us all.

Soon his shift at the cave entrance would begin again, and he'd blow fire at the sphinxes, holding them back until Bryn replaced him and another cycle began. Only fifty Vir Requis here were well enough to shift and blow fire, and each could only produce flames for several moments. The others—half the survivors—were too young, too old, too hurt.