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A rc stood and offered a hand to Nix, who accepted it as she muttered something about elves and their hidden scrolls.

Vahly remembered those scrolls, the ones stacked to the high ceiling in the now deceased King Mattin’s room. Cassiopeia cared for them now. Would she share them with the dragons and with Vahly if they asked?

They left the river and continued across the Red Meadow, the moon bright overhead and the red hat flowers brushing Vahly’s boots.

A short ridge of black rock rose like a wall. Arc hauled himself to the top. He had kept the Spirit of the River a secret. Was it because he didn’t realize she could actually help them or because he wanted to keep some information to himself? Vahly’s heart sagged.

No, Arc had proven himself trustworthy. He’d sworn himself to her, risked his life for her and for the dragons who raised her.

Vahly followed Arc up the boulder, her fingers finding holds almost as quickly as his. “I’m sure you have a good reason for not telling us about the Spirit. Care to share?”

Arc had stepped back and dusted himself clean as Vahly joined him on top of the boulder, but at her words, he paused and regarded her with mournful eyes. Nix flew over the stony surface, then landed beside them.

“In matters of magic and the magical beings in the world,” Arc said, his gaze searching Vahly’s face, “elves collect secrets like dragons hoard gold. There are countless things I know that you don’t.

I’m afraid I don’t know what to share and what is a waste of your time.

I had never seen the Spirit before this night, and I had no idea that it would aid you.

You’ve probably never heard of several powerful spirits of this land.

It’s possible that the Spirit of the Mountain still lives in the remote areas where the dragons don’t roam.

Our island is large, truly more of a continent, and was only named an island by the Sea Queen who reigned five generations before Astraea.

I don’t know why we adopted the phrase. That’s another story entirely, one I’m not privy to. ”

Vahly was staring. More powerful beings? Sugarrabota was a continent and not an island? It was only a matter of land measurement, so it didn’t change anything, but it was a thought twist. The word “continent” made her feel less swamped by the vast ocean.

Clicking her tongue, Nix leaned toward Vahly’s face, then Nix looked at Arc. “Slow down, elf. You’re killing her brain. Now, what in Stones and Blackwater is the Mountain Spirit?”

Taking up their westerly route again, Vahly shook her head. “Just spill everything you can. Even the strangest piece of information might help in ways you can’t imagine.”

Arc exhaled behind her. “All right. Well, the Mountain Spirit is a being ten or eleven feet in height, and it takes the appearance of tree bark—a type of burl. Legends say it has the strength of one hundred elves. I don’t know anyone who has seen the Spirit.

It is very skittish, if the scrolls are right. The wind won’t speak of it.”

Vahly looked over her shoulder to see him tilting his head to listen to the breeze. The wind tousled his ebony hair. He caught her gaze and smiled, and her heart turned over.

Nix batted a mosquito away. “So these spirits aren’t descended from elves like the rest of us with two arms and two legs?”

The sound of Arc uncorking his water skin was loud in the night. “They are born of spirit. Of an energy beyond our ken.”

“If the Mountain Spirit takes the appearance of tree bark,” Vahly said, “it might be in tune with my earth magic.”

A cluster of maple trees hid the moon but allowed the stars to sprinkle light over the dry, waving grasses.

“Do you wish to alter our course and head north to try to find it?” Arc asked.

Nix rummaged in her satchel and came out with a handful of finger-sized scorchpeppers. She offered one to Arc, who took it and chewed it neatly. Just the scent of them burned Vahly’s nostrils.

The earth magic beating through Vahly’s veins wouldn’t allow her to walk away from their mysterious quest into the western mountains. “No. I have to go west. My magic demands it.”

“Is the sensation unpleasant?” Arc caught up and accepted another scorchpepper from Nix, who walked on the other side of Vahly.

Vahly shook her head. “It’s just…insistent.”

Talking around a small bite, Nix said, “What else do you know, Arcturus?”

“Haldus—do you remember him? The male with the wide-set frame who served as a guide within the Oaken Palace?”

Vahly nodded, recalling the elf who’d showed her to her rooms right before she’d accidentally barged into Arc’s bath.

Arc didn’t notice the sly grin tugging at Vahly’s mouth.

He continued, “Haldus once showed me a scroll about beings called galtzagorri . They were spirits who showed themselves to humans and sometimes did their bidding. They were like short, stout humans, but transparent. We believe they were only a story, one told to human younglings to keep them obedient.”

The air dried Vahly’s throat. Tomorrow was going to be a hot one. “Ah. So the humans told their sons and daughters ‘Clean the dishes, and you might earn a galtzagorri who will do your chores for the rest of your life.’”

“Something like that,” Arc said.

“What do you think will happen in the western mountains when we get there?” Vahly’s cheeks warmed. This was her quest, and she felt like a fool not knowing a single thing about it.

But it didn’t seem to bother Arc. “I believe once we close in on the ruins of your kynd, your powers will increase. You may feel something…more.”

Nix’s stomach growled, and she ran a hand over her trim belly. “I could use something more.”

Vahly gave Nix a withering look. They had eaten their way through nine courses with the Lapis before leaving. “The feast was only five hours ago.”

Nix narrowed her eyes. “You have your inner longings. Allow me mine.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Vahly sighed. “Fine. Once we get to that line of trees at the end of the Red Meadow, we’ll do some hunting. How does that sound?”

Arc shushed them both, then crouched. “A stag,” he whispered, the light and shadow of his magic curling around his fingers and temples. “Just there.”

He nocked his bow with movements too quick to properly see.

Elves . Did they have to be so much faster and more graceful than everyone else?

“Nix, mask your scent,” Arc whispered.

Nix’s eyebrow raise was impressively high. “Mask your ego, elf.”

Arc ignored her jab and raised his weapon. Sure enough, a deer skirted through the oaks, then stopped to turn its antlered head. Arc’s arrow flew, and the simplebeast fell.

Soon, they had a small fire and some roasting meat.

The majority of the deer had gone to Nix, who had shifted into her battle dragon form to eat the meal raw.

Arc and Vahly sat on opposite sides of the fire.

“Do you know where your horse is now?” The venison’s grease warmed Vahly’s mouth, and the scent was familiar, comforting.

“Etor hasn’t communicated with me since the day we left for the marshes.”

“He isn’t …”

“Dead? No.” Arc began shoveling dirt onto the fire to cover their location. “I can feel that he still lives. He will return to me someday.”

“How do you know?”

Arc shrugged. “I just do.”

She glanced back at Nix. It was odd that Nix hadn’t switched back into her human-like form to talk to them.

She settled herself on the ground and spread one wing over her head to sleep.

Vahly set her meal down, no longer hungry.

Was Nix falling back into her grief? Vahly wanted to say something, to invite her over, but maybe Nix needed a moment.

Arc finished tamping the fire, then sat on a tree root, his legs set wide where they protruded from the slits in the sides of his surcoat.

He unsheathed one of his throwing knives and began to sharpen the edge with a small whetstone.

The grating sound quieted the evening birds and insects for a moment, but then the night’s chorus rose again.

Vahly studied his face. He was still such a mystery to her despite all they’d been through. “Did you speak telepathically with the deer before you shot him?”

Arc glanced up, the moon catching in his eyes. “No. Royal-blooded elves, the only ones who have that ability, well, we are taught from a young age what is proper and what is not. Using telepathy to hunt is bent magic. Wrong. I would never do it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to offend you.”

“You did not know. No offense taken.”

“Can you hear the birds’ thoughts right now?” In the branches above, dark spots flitted through the moon shadows.

Arc shook his head. “Not unless I focus on them and they are willing.”

“They have to be willing? They can think like that? So self-aware?”

“Some can. I don’t attempt to read the minds of simplebeasts unless it seems beneficial and proper to both parties.”

“If I didn’t know you fully plan to do some wild experiment with dragonfire and Stones knows what else just to gain a unique power no one has yet to wield, I’d think you were a real goody-goody.”

Arc laughed, his head falling back. “I don’t do it to keep the power for myself. It would be for all kynds.”

She held up a hand. “No, don’t ruin it, elf. If you’re too nice, you won’t be any fun at all on this quest.”

A wicked smile crossed Arc’s features, crinkling his eyes at the corners.

But then his face fell.

He stood in a blink and threw both of his knives into the darkness behind Vahly.

A yowling erupted, loud enough to have Nix awake and breathing smoke, ready to fight.

Vahly shot to her feet, heart in her mouth. She turned to see a bear on the ground, its eyes vacant. One of Arc’s knives stuck out from his chest and the other from his eye.

She stared, frozen. She hadn’t even drawn her sword.

The bear was so close. Those animals were quick.

It could have killed her in less than a minute if Arc hadn’t been paying attention.

Stones and Blackwater, she had to be better about journeying in the wilds like this.

She’d grown far too complacent spending time with a bevy of dragons.

Arc looked nothing like a goody-goody now, not with that deadly focus in his eyes and the tense muscles of his chest rising and falling. Purple and pale yellow magic twirled around his temples and fingertips. At that moment, he was every inch the very dangerous, very skilled, royal elven warrior.

Nix blew a few sparks of dragonfire and shook her great head.

In a circle of bright fire, she transformed.

“I’m not overly fond of the wilderness aspect of being your loyal warrior, Vahly.

” She retrieved her clothing and dressed, mumbling to herself.

“Bears. Hunger. I truly wonder why those rogue Jades Amona told us about chose to live this way, away from civilization. It’s deplorable.

” When she was fully clothed—and had every one of her rings back on her fingers—she sat beside Vahly.

Arc hurried to the bear and whispered a few words over the dead beast. “I almost did not notice him. The flowers’ scent here is strong and covered the bear’s odor. He nearly dragged those lethal claws across your back.”

Vahly’s hands shook. “Thank you, Arc. I owe you one.”

“I am fairly certain that is not how fealty works.”

With enviable strength, he dragged the bear into a brushy area where the scavengers could do their work. Bears tasted foul, and their meat was stringy, so the kill was of no help to the always hungry Nix.

“Now,” Arc said, “why don’t we get some sleep before moving onward?”

Agreeing, Vahly set her satchel on the ground and tried to get comfortable. Nix lay down on her left, and Arc settled himself on her right.

Heat crept into her face. They were protecting her with their very bodies. She wasn’t worthy. Not yet. “You two are worse than Amona.”

“Deal with it,” Nix whispered.

Arc faced the starry sky. In the moonlight, his skin was like a type of steel she’d never seen, more golden than silvery, of course, but strong and lined here and there from battle.

“I won’t sleep, Earth Queen.” His lips moved quickly, and her fingers longed to touch them, to feel their velvet softness, to see how fierce they could be in a kiss.

“I don’t need the rest,” he said. “But I’ll be here.

Just say the word, and I will do as you wish. ”

She wanted to thank him, but she was shy suddenly, awkward about being the center of all this attention. “Great. I hope you don’t mind snoring, because I can really saw some logs, my friend.”

A quiet laugh came from Nix and Arc both.

The conversation, the bear—all of it helped them avoid talking about their ongoing grief. Vahly was just fine with that for now.

A brief thought pinched her mind. Where were those enemy dragons? Nearby?

She fought sleep as long as she could, listening for the crack of branches or the rumble of dragon voices. Finally, fatigue stole her motivation and wrapped her in slumber.