"The poor thing just devoured my supper." Tanin lifted his own plate. Moments ago, it had been piled high with mutton skewers, flatbread soaked in olive oil, and spiced chickpeas. All that food now filled Fin's belly; the boy had snatched the plate before Tanin had taken a single bite.

Fin gulped down a mouthful of chicken. "I am chewing!" He grabbed a pear stewed in wine and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth. "It's just good."

The three sat in a tent of white canvas stretched over cedar poles. The place felt restrictive and hot. Tanin left the table, stepped to the tent door, and stared outside. He sighed.

Hundreds of thousands of souls . . . lost.

In the northern distance, he could see a cloud of dust upon the horizon—the ruin of Goshar, a city reduced to ash. Once a great city-state, Goshar now lay among the mountains as a pile of rubble and bones. Here, south of the mountains, three rivers crossed the land; one flowed only a mark away from Tanin, the setting sun gilding its surface. Plains of grass, golden farms, and groves of trees stretched for marks—the great land of plenty Issari had promised the children of Eteer.

"But more than Eteerians now cover this land," Tanin muttered.

Thousands of Eteerians had survived the slaughter in the mountains, but so had thousands of Gosharians. The two people spread across the grasslands, some living in tents, others in the open air. Scattered campfires burned, and the scents of cooking meats wafted. Soldiers in ringed armor patrolled. And above . . .

Tanin raised his eyes, and finally some hope filled him.

"Dragons," he whispered.

A hundred dragons glided above, Gosharians blessed by the Draco constellation. Two hundred had once hidden in the stone labyrinth of Goshar; half had fallen to the nephilim’s claws, paving a path of fire and blood to this camp.

Like me in the north, they hid, Tanin thought. Like Issari in Eteer, they were hunted. Pride welled up in him, inflating his chest. But now we fly free. Now Issari and I can return home, a hundred dragons behind us, and save what we can of Requiem.

As soon as it had risen, his chest deflated.

"Requiem . . . fallen."

He spun around and reentered the tent. Fin was now eating honeyed cakes topped with sliced almonds. Issari sat beside him, sipping wine but eating nothing.

"Fin," Tanin said, "tell me again. Tell me everything you know."