Rage had you for a second, but you’re all right now.”
“I’m supposed to be the illusionist,” Chatulio said. “The trickster. The sneak. My magic should have slipped us past the chromatics, but Ive lost my cunning. The frenzy has eaten it away.”
“It was just bad luck,” Raryn said. “When spell fights spell, the outcome is always uncertain. I’m so sorcerer, but even I know that.”
“Then I was going to throw away my life, and yours, too. At that moment, I didn’t even remember you were on my back. I just wanted to kill something. Kara and Dorn had to risk themselves to save us.”
“Back at the village,” Raryn said, “it was Kara who became confused. its happening to all of you, and there’s no point in feeling ashamed. Don’t you see, exaggerated self-hatred is simply another way the Rage gnaws at you.”
“You don’t know,” Chatulio said. “It’s not happening to you, so you can’t understand.”
It seemed to Raryn that the dragon was waxing even more hysterical. What if, wracked with self-loathing, Chatulio decided simply to fold his wings and fall out of the sky? In all likelihood, neither of them would survive. The ranger realized he’d better involve his other comrades after all. If nothing else, maybe Kara could shackle the copper’s will with another charm.
Raryn drew in a breath and placed two fingers before his mouth to whistle, but Chatulio twisted his neck and said, “What’s that?”
Chatulio’s enormous body and outstretched wings largely obstructed his rider’s view of the landscape directly below. Raryn had to shift forward to see what the copper had noticed, but then he spotted it easily enough. A dead human lay amid a tumble of rocks on an escarpment.
“We should take a closer look,” Raryn said.
The corpse had distracted Chatulio from his poisonous self-absorption. Maybe, if the diversion lasted for a while, the copper wouldn’t slip back into the same mood.
Raryn whistled, and Kara’s head whipped backward. Maybe she thought he’d signaled to warn that the chromatics had reappeared, and he made haste to reassure her.
“We’re all right,” he shouted, “but Chatulio spotted a dead man. We want to see if we can figure out who he was, and what he’s doing out here in the middle of nowhere.”
All right,” the song dragon said, and her lustrous lavender eyes narrowed.
Raryn had a hunch she’d just noticed the fresh blood on Chatulio’s forefeet, but if so, she evidently decided not to mention it.
Still keeping an eye out for signs of pursuit, the drakes wheeled, glided, and set lightly down on the steep incline where the dead man lay. Raryn and Dorn swung themselves down from the reptiles’ backs, and they all clambered toward the body. With their sharp talons and prodigious strength, the wings and tails they poised to enhance their balance, Kara and Chatulio moved almost as nimbly as they would on a horizontal surface. Raryn had learned to climb on the icy crags of the Great Glacier, and he too had little difficulty. It was Dorn who floundered, slid, and sent loose pebbles and dirt bouncing and streaming down the mountainside. In the dwarf’s opinion, the big human with his iron limbs wasn’t clumsy, but he thought he was, and accordingly, he acted like it. Fortunately, in combat he forgot to limp and lurch.
The corpse was burned and blistered, as if by a black or green dragon’s corrosive breath. The disfigurement made it difficult to tell much about the victim, but it looked to Raryn as if he’d been relatively young, and had dressed all in gray. Judging from the bloated belly, and the leakage around the mouth and nostrils, he’d been dead for a few days, though the local animals, evidently disliking the acidic tang underlying the commonplace reek of putrefaction, had left him alone.
“Poor man,” Kara sighed.
“Poor monk, maybe,” said Dorn. “This Monastery of the Yellow Rose is dedicated to llmater, isn’t it, and the
“I’m supposed to be the illusionist,” Chatulio said. “The trickster. The sneak. My magic should have slipped us past the chromatics, but Ive lost my cunning. The frenzy has eaten it away.”
“It was just bad luck,” Raryn said. “When spell fights spell, the outcome is always uncertain. I’m so sorcerer, but even I know that.”
“Then I was going to throw away my life, and yours, too. At that moment, I didn’t even remember you were on my back. I just wanted to kill something. Kara and Dorn had to risk themselves to save us.”
“Back at the village,” Raryn said, “it was Kara who became confused. its happening to all of you, and there’s no point in feeling ashamed. Don’t you see, exaggerated self-hatred is simply another way the Rage gnaws at you.”
“You don’t know,” Chatulio said. “It’s not happening to you, so you can’t understand.”
It seemed to Raryn that the dragon was waxing even more hysterical. What if, wracked with self-loathing, Chatulio decided simply to fold his wings and fall out of the sky? In all likelihood, neither of them would survive. The ranger realized he’d better involve his other comrades after all. If nothing else, maybe Kara could shackle the copper’s will with another charm.
Raryn drew in a breath and placed two fingers before his mouth to whistle, but Chatulio twisted his neck and said, “What’s that?”
Chatulio’s enormous body and outstretched wings largely obstructed his rider’s view of the landscape directly below. Raryn had to shift forward to see what the copper had noticed, but then he spotted it easily enough. A dead human lay amid a tumble of rocks on an escarpment.
“We should take a closer look,” Raryn said.
The corpse had distracted Chatulio from his poisonous self-absorption. Maybe, if the diversion lasted for a while, the copper wouldn’t slip back into the same mood.
Raryn whistled, and Kara’s head whipped backward. Maybe she thought he’d signaled to warn that the chromatics had reappeared, and he made haste to reassure her.
“We’re all right,” he shouted, “but Chatulio spotted a dead man. We want to see if we can figure out who he was, and what he’s doing out here in the middle of nowhere.”
All right,” the song dragon said, and her lustrous lavender eyes narrowed.
Raryn had a hunch she’d just noticed the fresh blood on Chatulio’s forefeet, but if so, she evidently decided not to mention it.
Still keeping an eye out for signs of pursuit, the drakes wheeled, glided, and set lightly down on the steep incline where the dead man lay. Raryn and Dorn swung themselves down from the reptiles’ backs, and they all clambered toward the body. With their sharp talons and prodigious strength, the wings and tails they poised to enhance their balance, Kara and Chatulio moved almost as nimbly as they would on a horizontal surface. Raryn had learned to climb on the icy crags of the Great Glacier, and he too had little difficulty. It was Dorn who floundered, slid, and sent loose pebbles and dirt bouncing and streaming down the mountainside. In the dwarf’s opinion, the big human with his iron limbs wasn’t clumsy, but he thought he was, and accordingly, he acted like it. Fortunately, in combat he forgot to limp and lurch.
The corpse was burned and blistered, as if by a black or green dragon’s corrosive breath. The disfigurement made it difficult to tell much about the victim, but it looked to Raryn as if he’d been relatively young, and had dressed all in gray. Judging from the bloated belly, and the leakage around the mouth and nostrils, he’d been dead for a few days, though the local animals, evidently disliking the acidic tang underlying the commonplace reek of putrefaction, had left him alone.
“Poor man,” Kara sighed.
“Poor monk, maybe,” said Dorn. “This Monastery of the Yellow Rose is dedicated to llmater, isn’t it, and the
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