Sorry it took so long! I was on a school Spanish trip. I made this chapter longer to make up for the delay. Unfortunately, though, I'll be going back to Spain tomorrow for two weeks, so the next chapter will take a while to come.
Numair woke early that morning, his sleep having been the lair of nightmare demons. As his brain sluggishly began to restart, he stroked Daine's hair and kissed her on the forehead before rising from their bedspread to change. Clad in breeches and a tunic, he strolled out from the tent, startled by the unusual coldness of the morning.
"Well rested, Master Salmalin?" A voice called out, and Numair jerked his head to see Evin Larse crouched by a small, despondent fire. Despite the fire's frailty, the food that Evin was cooking over it smelled irresistible to the mage, and he trundled forward to sit beside the Rider.
"I prefer my own bed in Tortall." He attempted a weak smile.
"Hungry?"
"I was wondering when you would mention that…what is it?" Numair eyed the sizzling meat hungrily.
"Rabbit. I just caught it."
"Don't let Daine see you with that." Numair grinned, the curved line of his lips widening even more as Evin cut a strip of cooked meat off the spit and handed it to the ravenous mage.
Daine too had suffered from nightmares during her sleep. She panicked at first, when she saw that Numair was not beside her, but weary laughter from outside the tent reassured her.
Just as a smile crept onto her face, a horrid, sickly sensation came upon her, and all Evin and Numair saw of her was a blur of bare skin and nightgown, before she'd fled the campsite to vomit.
She knelt in the dewy grass, heaving up whatever she'd eaten the night before. Numair was quick to be there for her, Evin following behind, bringing a long cloak with him to cover her. Numair shot him a grateful look as he draped it over Daine's shoulders, and stepped back to give her air.
"Alanna mentioned something called morning sickness-is this it?" The mage rubbed his wife's back to ease her aches.
"Yes…" Daine finally managed to croak, wiping the bile from her mouth. She tried to hide her face away, repulsed herself.
"I don't care, Daine. All I care about it whether you're OK or not."
The wildmage recalled Badger's words: -You've nothing to be ashamed of-
"I-I'll just go back and rest a little longer." She stood up shakily, and Numair took hold of her arms to lend her support. He guided her back into the tent, and laid her down on the bedspread. Her head rolled to one side, and she groaned in discomfort.
"Can't…sleep…" She murmured. Numair placed a finger of her temple ever so gently, and summoned a thin waterfall of black magic that trickled into Daine. Her expression relaxed, and sleep blanketed her.
The mage crept from the tent, hoping that his wife would not suffer; if she was like this only nine weeks into pregnancy, how traumatic would the birthing be?
Daine woke two hours later, the tent surrounded by a cacophony of noise. Surprised at feeling so refreshed, she abandoned her bedspread and donned the travelling garments she had missed wearing since her last time outside Tortall. Her life was adventure, and she could not bear to be home-ridden.
"Daine?" Alanna called, as the wildmage emerged from the tent. The knight was strapping her sword to her belt while directing several disorientated Riders to where they should be.
"I-Goddess, I haven't kept everyone waiting, have I?"
"No, not to worry." In actual fact, the group had allowed another hour for their member to recuperate, but most of the Riders were grateful for the extra sleep.
At that point, Numair strode over, carrying the staff given to him years ago by Weiryn. "Daine…you're sure you're alright to carry on?"
"As best as I can be. I'll feel even better once I'm in a saddle." She replied, and glanced over to the edge of the campsite, where Cloud and the other ponies stood.
"I'll pack." He said abruptly, as Daine moved to return to the tent. Something between gratitude and annoyance slid across her face, but she nodded, and made for Cloud instead.
"I do worry about her." Numair sighed, seeking sympathy from Alanna, who rolled her eyes and wandered off.
Soon after Daine and awoken, the campsite had been dismantled, the fires buried under soil, and the mounts saddled. Their departure from the sheltered vales they had stopped for the night in was quiet and brisk. Their mission was of certain urgency: the kingdom could not afford even a minor war to occur between Stormwings and men.
As they rode, Daine tried as hard as she could to scrape a coherent conversation with Cloud, without revealing to Numair her efforts. Her husband was keeping his eyes on her without leniency, keeping their mounts as close together as possible. His trepidation was easily seen by his tendency to summon magic in his hands when so much as a hawk flew overhead, and it was distressing for Daine to see.
"Stop this, Numair. I can barely breathe in the space you're giving me." The wildmage finally shouted, as her husband leant in again. Cloud sided with her rider, snapping in the intention of closing down on a robed arm, but swallowing air instead.
"I'm looking out for you, Daine. You've no choice as to whether I want to protect you or not." Numair answered curtly, though he did widen the berth between them after that.
Forest-laden hills rose up from the boundaries of the trail that the Rider group traversed, the wind constantly breathing fresh life across the land. It was a swathe of green, but around midday, when the group had ridden for many miles, the area's beauty suddenly faded. Vibrant forest surrendered to burnt and blackened columns, dirty smoke clinging to the scarred ground. Death and destruction hung in the atmosphere like poisonous smog. The humans and their mounts stared around them in silent dread. The Stormwing mage was strong, and his wrath had travelled far.
It was Daine who suffered the most. The fact that she could not speak and listen to her animal friends did not prevent a thousand cries of pain flooding into her mind. She gripped Cloud's mane with white hands, her eyes clamped shut in an attempt to push away what she felt and heard.
"Daine?" Numair lurched over quickly, when he saw the wildmage's actions.
"They're all dying…I can't bear it." She muttered through clenched teeth.
"The animals? You can hear them?" Her husband demounted, and the group halted.
"Of course I can hear them! They're suffering!" Daine weakened at that moment, her muscles numbing. She slipped from her saddle, and Numair caught her in tense arms. The wind that howled despondently subsided to a low humming in her ears, and Numair's frightened face was the last image she saw before darkness smothered her.
When Daine awoke, tucked beneath a blanket in a tent, the pain that had caused her to faint was still there, though thankfully it had faded a little.
For a while, she stared at the tent roof. The Riders must have stopped the journey because of her. Certainly, the dull chatter of people outside the tent was distinct enough.
I should never have come. Numair was right, she said bitterly.
The cries of pain in her head spiked, and one voice rose above the others, stronger.
"You're close…" She whispered. She could still heal. She had repaired the broken wing of a raven last week.
"I'll find you." She pulled herself from out of her makeshift bed, ignoring the aches in her bones. Only her travelling garments, such as her robe, had been removed, and now she wrestled them back on. Remembering a promise she had made to herself nine years ago, she grabbed her bow and quiver of arrows. The Stormwing mage could be anywhere.
Cautiously, she crouched at the entrance of the tent and pulled the lip away just enough so that she could see whether an unnoticeable departure could be made.
Numair was nowhere to be seen, but she saw the back of Evin, and heard the voice of Alanna.
"It'll have to be the back." She murmured, sidling over to the other end of the tent. She tugged at the cloth, and created an opening large enough to slip out of.
The trembling voice within her mind grew stronger still, calling to her as she crawled into the blustery air. Once again, the sight of such barren land almost brought tears to her eyes. She shook her head, and crept away. Fortunately, the Rider group had camped close to a bank of bare, but abundant trees. She reached their cover quickly, looking behind to make sure that she had not been seen. No one, least of Numair, would want her to leave now. She had no choice though-a creature's life depended on her, and she could not ignore its suffering.
Daine began a half run, following the ever growing voice. A few glimmers of green-fortunate foliage-flashed in the corners of her vision, but everything else was dead.
It took fifteen minutes for her to reach her quarry, and by that time, she ached all over. She had a feeling that Numair had given her one of the usual messes he always carried with him, but even one of those did not last forever, particularly if the patient they had been used on refused to rest.
The creature who had called to her with its dying mind lay, prostate, on the ashy ground. Its broken wings were splayed out at different angles, and its once lively eyes were beginning to glaze.
"Hold on, eagle." Daine knelt beside the huge bird, stroking its ruffled feathers. She slipped a hand underneath its head for support, and the other hand went to one wing. Closing her eyes, she looked into herself, and sought the familiar well of copper fire that was her wild magic. She summoned strand upon strand of fiery thread, using them to burn away infection within the eagle's body. Once that was done, she focused on any internal bleeding. She found quite a quantity of it, amazed at the eagle's will to live. She bore down on the injuries, determined not to lose her patient.
Suddenly, the eagle screeched with pain that could only mean death, and she broke from her trance. At first, she was terrified that her own actions had brought the outburst about, but when she looked onto the eagle's smoking body, and a vile odour reached her nose, she knew who its murderer was.
Slowly, shakily, she turned to the sky. Amidst the innocent blue was a monster that scarred it. With steel wings that the sunlight tilted from, it hovered there, grinning maliciously.
So much like Ozorne, Daine thought, staring upwards with rigid fear. She was tired and helpless, pitted against a mad Stormwing that could destroy whole forests.
She finally found the ability to move, and edged backwards, to where her bow and arrows were.
"I thought I'd got rid of everything." The Stormwing now spoke, his words like the cold blade of a warrior's dagger. Daine ignored him, nocking an arrow. She had never been so afraid when facing a Stormwing, even more so than when she and Ozorne had faced each other for the last time.
But this time, more than one life hung in the balance. She could not afford any injury.
She brought her bow up swiftly, and loosed the arrow. It flew far and high, headed for its intended mark, but just before it reached the Stormwing's throat a barrier of live, green magic scorched it into nothing.
Crying in frustration, Daine sent another arrow forward to do what its brother could not; it too failed.
"Arrows, human?" The Stormwing cackled, and swept forward. More magic bloomed in his hands, and cascaded forward, reaching the wildmage long before their conjurer did. They wound themselves around Daine's wrists, burning her skin. The bow dropped from her frozen fingers.
"NUMAIR!" She screamed, as the Stormwing alighted on the carcass of the eagle, treading slowly towards her.