"I knew it! We're just tools to you! Didn't I say it? Didn't I?!"

  A handful of birds leapt out of nearby trees and Aytin struggled to remain straight faced under the verbal assault.

  He had been expecting something like this when Attalee practically dragged him out of camp. And he was grateful that she had at least waited until they were out of earshot of the rest of the wildlings before laying into him.

  Rina had insisted on accompanying them and she pushed between the two. "What are you talking about, Attalee?"

  It had only been a day since they had decided to try again, and they were still feeling out their new relationship. That she would immediately come to his defense against her friend and mentor gave him hope.

  "Why don't you ask him? He knows exactly what I'm talking about."

  Rina turned and Aytin's hope was instantly snuffed out. Now he was facing down two huntresses, one confused and the other outright furious.

  "What does she mean, Tin? Do you know what she's talking about?"

  He did. It was only surprising that it had taken Attalee almost a day to hear about it.

  "I think," he began, slowly. "That she means that I've been teaching Khrik, Drav, and Nali how to be lancers."

  "Lancers." Rina rolled the unfamiliar word across her tongue. "What's a lancers?"

  "A quick way to die, that's what it is," her companion spat.

  She was right, but he struggled to put a better face on it. "It's... how my people fight dragons. Without other dragons."

  "He's convinced them to take spears and charge a dragon!"

  "Look, will you just let me explain?"

  The senior huntress gave him a dark look. "What is there to explain?"

  "Aytin?" Rina's eyes were narrowed with concern.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "We need some way to fight their dragon if things go wrong. Faelon can't fly. If it gets into the air, it will kill us all."

  "So we all die killing it for you instead?"

  "No!" Aytin gave a hiss of frustration. "This is just a plan for if things go wrong. So if they do, the rest of us live."

  "But the lancers will die?" Rina asked, quietly.

  Aytin didn't want to answer, but he knew he had to. "Probably. Being a lancer is very dangerous. They have a long spear and fly at the dragon with it."

  "Okay." Rina nodded slowly, thinking about what he said. "It will be dark, so we'll be hard to see. If more of us attack, and we come from different directions-"

  He could see Attalee getting ready to butt in. To twist his words. He couldn't hesitate.

  "Rina, lancers have to fly as fast as they can. All the way to the dragon. And don't stop. It's the only way to really hurt one."

  "Oh." He could see her mind working. "Is that why you wanted those three with us?"

  "I asked them," Aytin tried to explain. "I made very sure they knew everything and I asked them and they all said yes."

  Her frown deepened at the attempted evasion.

  "Yes!" Aytin practically shouted. "Yes, it's why I wanted them here. I hoped I wouldn't need to ask them to do this, and I hope they won't need to do it!"

  "See?" Attalee demanded, teeth bared in contempt. "The dragon doesn't care about us."

  "That's not true!"

  "If he did, he wouldn't ask this."

  "My father was a lancer!"

  The sudden outburst took her aback. "He fought dragons?"

  "He trained for it. He was ready to do it."

  She caught the lack of an answer. "But he didn't."

  "He died fighting darklings."

  "Maybe he had honor, then. But," the huntress waved an arm back towards camp. "That dragon will trade us all for victory."

  "Then why did he order me to leave him behind if things went wrong?"

  Again, Attalee paused her vitriol to narrow her eyes. "What do you mean?"

  "He told me that if the plan failed... that I should get to safety and make sure all of you did, too."

  "It sounds like he cares for you more than us."

  He shook his head, hard. "You're wrong. But that doesn't matter because I care for you."

  Attalee snorted and gave a sidelong glance towards Rina.

  "I do! All of you!"

  He would have gone on, but Rina reached out to take him by the forearm. "I think I understand." To Attalee, she said, "He asked them. They agreed."

  "He picked them because he knew they would."

  Rina looked back to Aytin who grimaced. "I didn't know they would."

  "And what if I told you that I wanted to be a lancer?"

  His wide eyed look of terror was all the answer she needed. And thankfully, after a moment she shook her head.

  "I don't. I... I don't think I could. No matter what Dragon Faelon asked."

  "I certainly wouldn't," Attalee added, unnecessarily.

  "What if a dragon threatened the tribe and Faelon wasn't here? What about then?"

  "But there isn't, is there? We're here, fighting your battle for you!"

  "Stop!"

  Rina's shout brought them both up short. "We took Dragon Faelon's payment and agreed to fight," she told the other huntress. "And he is a Dragon.

  Then, she turned to Aytin. "When would you use the lancers?"

  "If we were going to win, but the other dragon made it into the air. And only if there were no other way."

  She didn't look happy, but she nodded. "I trust you."

  "Thank you Rina." He let out a breath of relief, only for her to let go of his arm and take a step away.

  "But... what you did... It feels wrong. Not honorable."

  Aytin hung his head and felt his ears droop. "I know. I... I didn't want to, but..."

  "But you did."

  "But I did."

  He didn't dare look up, just stared at his feet.

  Eventually, Rina broke the silence.

  "Attalee, we need to talk. Alone. Tin..." He looked up hopefully. "We'll... Later. I'll see you later."

  With both of the huntresses' eyes on him, Aytin turned and left. His gaze was downcast as he made the short journey back to camp on foot.

  'Why? Damn it, why?! Every time anything good happens, it all falls apart! Every. Time.'

  A god had to have decided to torture him. That was the only way that things could be going so wrong, so often.

  Except, this time, he knew he deserved it. No matter how often he told himself that there was no other way, it didn't matter. He knew that he had been as manipulative and self-serving as Xantha.

  "Companion Aytin!"

  The shout jerked him back to reality. Somehow he'd wandered back into camp and hadn't noticed it.

  "Oh, hey, uh, Companion Cue." It took a few moments to spot the wildling shaman striding towards him. "What are you doing here?"

  "I'm here to collect the Dragon Magic, yes?" He was his usual bundle of nervous energy, bouncing from foot to foot and ears held nearly vertical in excitement.

  "Yeah... it's just, we weren't expecting you. Not for a few days."

  "Oh, is it a bad time?" Cue seemed to deflate a little. "I can come back."

  "No, no, it's fine." The shaman would be a distraction, at least. Aytin forced himself to smile as he said, "It's just a surprise. A good one."

  "Excellent! So, do you need to prepare? Or can we leave now?"

  "Uh..." Aytin was a little taken aback by the enthusiasm, but he recovered quickly. "No, I'm ready. Let me just speak with Faelon and we can go."

  Cue beamed at the news. "Very good! May I accompany you?"

  That request, at least, he had been anticipating. "Yes. It won't take long, but you are welcome."

  True to his word, the conversation with the dragon was brief. Cue looked on as Aytin confirmed the proper way to harvest the heaven oak bark and made sure things would be ready for his return.

  He didn't mention anything about Rina or Attalee. That would come later.

  Then the pair of them were off, headed the short distance to the grove.

  Clouds were rolling in, and with them a brisk wind from the west. Aytin didn't feel like straining against it, so their progress was slow. Much faster than walking, but it left time to talk. And the young dragonette really didn't feel like being alone with his thoughts.

  "I thought you were going to be another couple of days. What happened? Did you finish early?"

  "No," Cue called back, and angled his tail to ease himself closer. "The Matriarchs wanted our winter camp prepared a little early this year, and I've been busy with that. But I didn't have anything to do today."

  "They have you hauling things around?" The shaman wasn't much bigger than Aytin or built for manual labor.

  "I've been using magic to make food last longer."

  "Really? How are you doing that?"

  "A ritual my tea- that I learned in my training."

  Aytin caught the hitch, even over the wind. But the shaman pressed on like nothing had happened.

  "Lots of the huntresses and workers are here, though. I've been doing the ritual faster than they can bring food. So..." He trailed off, and opened his hands wide in a flying shrug.

  "It can't help that the huntresses here are killing half the deer in the forest to keep Faelon fed."

  "That many?"

  "Eh, maybe not. But he's eating as much as the rest of us together."

  All of the Faelon's injuries that could heal had done so. Apart from his left wing and a missing toe on his left foreleg, the only sign of his grievous wounds were patches of faintly discolored scales and a slightly truncated horn. Most of the food was going towards filling him out, replenishing the reserves he had used up since the ambush.

  "It won't be for much longer," Aytin added. "Once it gets too cold to hunt, Faelon will go to sleep and not wake up until spring."

  "I'm sure that we could feed him. Especially with so many of us asleep thanks to his magic."

  "Trust me, it's best for everyone this way." And knowing Faelon, spending a winter not only stuck in a cave but with no way to escape the shaman's questions would be the worst kind of torture.

  They had dropped low as they flew near the keep, letting the surrounding forest and the central mesa block some of the wind. Ahead of them, the grove of heaven oaks was rapidly growing larger.

  Both dragonettes went silent as they approached. It was the first time either of them had been so close to the massive trees.

  Aytin thought he had been ready.

  Heaven oaks might be sacred, but they weren't mysterious. His home was too hot and dry to support them, but he knew the stories. He had even seen groves and once a whole forest of them from Faelon's back. But he had never actually been so close to one.

  The trunks were spaced widely enough for a small dragon to fly among them. It didn't even feel like a forest. More like they were flying through a city of wooden towers stretching up to touch a multicolored sky of green and orange and gold.

  'And these are young ones!'

  By unspoken agreement, they landed in the center of the roughly circular grove. There were younger heaven oaks at the fringes, descendants of the originals that would have worked just as well for their purposes, but this just felt right.

  Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

  Cue was looking around in awe. "It's... amazing." Aside from his craning neck, every bit of the wildling was still. Frozen.

  Aytin let him gawk. It wasn't like he was immune to the surroundings. A speck of gold grew from a pinprick to a broad leaf bigger than his head. It fluttered to the ground, just a few steps away. The forest floor was covered with them, and they crunched underfoot as he stepped over to retrieve it.

  The leaf was thicker than he expected. Almost like parchment. Its jagged edges fluttered in the breeze, trying to escape his grasp. When he did open his hand, a gust of wind sent it looping away, to get lost among the multicolored carpet.

  He looked up to find that Cue had moved as well. The shaman looked like a hatchling compared to the forest giant he was standing next to. Every wildling in the camp could hold hands, and they might wrap around its base twice if they really stretched.

  Hesitantly, the shaman raised one hand and held it a scale's breadth from the rough bark, not daring to actually make contact with the sacred tree.

  Aytin raised his own hand and pushed Cue's forward that last little bit. The wildling stiffened slightly, no doubt expecting some divine punishment despite the assurances.

  The wind blew. Leaves fell. Beams of sunlight grew and faded. No godly magic or draconic spirit appeared.

  It was just a forest, no matter how enormous the trees.

  'I wonder what he would have thought of a unicorn appearing,' Aytin wondered. 'Although if there were one on this gods forsaken island, the wildlings would have to know about it.'

  "I cannot believe that I'm here."

  The words were whispered. Reverent. Cue was staring at his hand with wonder where his claws dug slightly into the rough bark.

  "You are your tribe's Companion. If anyone deserves to be here, it's you."

  "I... yes." He sounded strangely uncertain.

  Confidence had never been a quality that Cue had lacked before, and Aytin frowned. "Is something wrong?"

  The shaman didn't say anything at first. Slowly, he removed his hand from the heaven oak and turned to face the other dragonette.

  "Sometimes I... I don't feel that I am much of a Companion. I accepted it, when I was all the tribe had. I did what I could, learned what I could. But then you came. A real Companion!"

  Aytin shook his head reflexively. "I'm not... I had a different path than you did."

  "You have Dragon Faelon as your teacher! I only had two years with Companion Nocta before she passed on! She was an apprentice for almost as long as I've been alive!"

  Suddenly, a manic glint entered Cue's eyes. "Teach me!"

  A wave of panic washed over Aytin. "Teach you?"

  "Yes!" The young shaman nodded enthusiastically. "You know so much! Please! If you could just share a little!"

  "You... know my magic is different from yours, right? I don't know any spells or rituals or anything like that."

  "Companion Nocta taught me the rituals I need. But the rest? I know so little! And you know so much! Please, tell me about Dragons! I want to know everything!"

  This was a situation that Aytin had been dreading.

  So far, he could face an inquisitor and be truthful when he said that he did nothing to encourage dragon worship. He had skirted the edge of heresy, maybe even edged across the line in places, but never went further than that. Given the circumstances, he had hoped that it would be overlooked.

  But if he started making up stories to feed the wildling faith, that would be unforgivable. If the inquisition caught wind of it, he might wish the brigands had killed him.

  And Cue was still there, looking expectant.

  'He's our biggest supporter among the tribe's leadership. If I refuse, what happens then? Or worse, what if I tell the truth?'

  A disillusioned Cue would be a disaster. After everything he had put on the line to convince the wildlings to fight for them, finding out Faelon wasn't some kind of god might destroy him. And he could very well drag the entire plan down with him.

  Aytin cast about for inspiration. Anything he could say or do to avoid any lies or uncomfortable revelations.

  It was in the heaven oaks that he found his answer.

  "You know of the Makers, yes?" Aytin began, recalling the word that the lancers had used.

  "Of course! They created the land and skies. Dragons are their children."

  "Yes, but what do you know about the Makers themselves?"

  "Themselves?"

  He had Cue's rapt attention as he nodded gravely. "Yes. Like why they created the heaven oaks. And why they are sacred."

  That did it. If the young shaman's eyes got any bigger, they'd pop out of their sockets.

  "This is the tale of Kalador and Itova, two of the Makers."

  "Kalador and Itova," Cue repeated, as if he was tasting the names.

  Aytin paused, outwardly to let the tension build. Inside, he was scrambling to piece together old memories. Half-remembered lessons. Stories told as the fires burned low during great feasts. Passages from the handful of books in the keep.

  Not all of it could be right. There were things he remembered that contradicted each other. And a few holes he would just have to fill in himself. But once Aytin thought he had the story ready, he took a deep breath and began.

  "After making the islands and filling them with light and dragons and dragonettes, the Makers were happy with what they created. So much had turned out so well. They believed it would continue as it had, so they turned to making other things.

  "But some of them weren't happy. The dark Makers had waited and when the others were not watching they added the cold and pushed back some of the light. They wanted the darkness to win, so they made it harder for us to live."

  "These are the ones who made the darklings?"

  "Some of them, yes." It wasn't exactly right, but close enough to the lessons that Aytin remembered from his childhood. Hopefully, that would be good enough for the inquisition.

  "The other Makers stopped them before they could replace us. But it was too late. They could make new things, but not destroy things one of their own had made.

  "Winter came. Plants died, and it was too cold to hunt for as long as it lasted." Not that he had ever experienced winter firsthand. But if he lived through the confrontation with Xantha, that was sure to change.

  "Dragons are strong and full of magic. Some aren't bothered by the cold. The rest can just go to sleep, and wake up in the spring.

  "But we dragonettes can't do that."

  Aytin was starting to get into the flow of things. His wildling was coming more easily, and Cue was hanging on his every word.

  "Only a few dragonettes survived until spring. Dragons helped, but it wasn't enough. So many died and if there was another winter, that could be the end.

  "Kalador was the Maker who made dragonettes. He didn't want us to all die, but he knew another winter would come. He was also the one who gave us light, and the Makers of darkness hated him the most."

  "Kalador made us?"

  "Uh, yes." Aytin stumbled slightly at the interruption.

  "We never knew one Maker was our creator. Now we can honor him properly. Thank you." Cue inclined his head in a slight bow.

  "You're, uh, very welcome." Aytin struggled to remember where he was.

  After a bit of floundering, it came to him. "Itova! Sorry, I mean, it was Itova, who saved us.

  "She is of love and life, and if we died then she would be badly hurt. So she went to Kalador with the idea for the heaven oak."

  He gestured to the trees around them as he said, "Together, the two Makers created these as a gift to dragonettes. They give us protection, thanks to the magic in them. The magic that can let us sleep through the winter just as the dragons do.

  "Oh, they had help, too," he said, as he remembered a particular detail. "Since it's the magic of dragons, they had to have the help of a dragon. A silver dragon.

  "This one had fought all its life against the forces of darkness. She won a great battle but was horribly injured. As a final request, she begged for a chance to see the world that she had helped protect. So the two makers collected her soul and her bones and from them created the first heaven oaks. And with that gift, dragonettes can spread to every island in the skies. Just as the Makers wanted."

  As the story finished, Cue stepped forward to once again lay a hand on the heaven oak trunk. "It all makes sense now," he murmured.

  Aytin wasn't quite sure what that meant, so he just bobbed his head. "I'm happy to hear that."

  "Yes, the gift wasn't ready before." The shaman was growing louder and more animated as he spoke. "The heaven oaks needed time to grow. That must be why the Dragons ordered us away! And you and Dragon Faelon came to tell us that they were ready!"

  "Well, yes, the trees are adult," Aytin said, steering the conversation away from any confirmation that they were messengers from the gods. "Your tribe can care for them now. Watch for any fires that might damage them and keep others from trying to harvest them. Spread, them, too. Take the seeds and plant them far and wide." That much was what any dragonette could be called on to do. "And in return, you can use heaven oak's gifts. Come here and let me show you."

  Gathering the heaven oak bark proved easy enough. They cut away patches to expose the smooth, inner layer and harvested strips of the pale-yellow bark. The cuts were never more than a few hand spans wide at most. Not even pinpricks to the forest giants. They would heal quickly and in a few months there wouldn't be a mark to be found.

  With their bounty carefully packed away, they took to the skies. Thanks to the brisk tailwind, it took little time to return to camp, landing near Faelon's shelter.

  "Are you ready?" Aytin asked as he retrieved a large clay jar with a tight fitting lid. He poured the gathered shavings inside as Cue watched attentively.

  "I have little else to look forward to," the dragon replied as he scraped a small depression into the sandy patch of soil.

  The jar went into the hole and was covered with a shallow layer of soil. "It won't be much longer," Aytin said, dusting off his hands. He only got a rumbling grunt in response.

  A small crowd of wildlings had gathered to watch, and Cue was happy to explain that they were doing Dragon Magic. That was enough to bring the rest. Even Rina and Attalee were there, standing towards the back and watching.

  "You might as well give them a show," Aytin said to Faelon as he backed away. To the gathered wildlings, he added, "Everyone, Dragon Faelon is about to give his blessing. Give him room."

  It took a few moments to get everyone to a safe distance. Once he was satisfied, the dragon took a deep breath and exhaled a stream of fire onto the patch of ground. The circle of dragonettes recoiled reflexively, blinking against the blast of scorching air.

  Faelon relented after only a few heartbeats. The pool of fire he left behind didn't last long, either. Flames quickly died, and the crowd pushed forward once again to see the result.

  The sand was fused and blackened, with a few small embers glowing on its surface. Faelon gently extended a clawed foreleg and cleared away the upper layer. Its heat didn't bother him in the slightest.

  As spectacular a demonstration as it was, very little heat had reached the pot through the sand. It was only slightly warm when Aytin picked it up and presented it to Cue.

  "Take this and dry it by a fire until it turns white, then crush it into a powder." The shaman accepted the warm container, nostrils flaring slightly at the sharp odor seeping out. "Add it to boiling water and let it steep for a morning. Then if you drink it and fall asleep in the cold, you won't wake until it's warm again."

  "Thank you, Companion Aytin," Cue said formally, and dipped his head low.

  Since there was every chance he wouldn't be there to help, Aytin added, "A few will need to watch the ones asleep. And Agon should be ready to help the young and old. They will be safe from the cold, but waking can be difficult. Have blankets and hot stew ready."

  There were murmurs from the onlookers, a few tinged with apprehension. Apparently they had thought the dragon magic would be a miracle cure. Or more of one.

  The whispers soon quieted as Aytin remained standing. He had one more thing to say.

  "The heaven oaks are for your tribe to guard, now. But as the guards, you do not need Dragon Faelon's blessing to use their magic anymore. Do as I showed you. Keep them safe and you will both grow strong."

  He stumbled a few times with some of the words, but managed to get through the speech he had rehearsed well enough. It certainly seemed to impress the gathered wildlings. Most of them came forward to look at the "blessed" bark or feel the heat radiating from chunks of fused sand.

  Cue was nothing if not grateful. He made a show of gifting Faelon with the backstraps from several deer and apologized that it wasn't more.

  It really wasn't more than a few mouthfuls to the dragon, but Faelon rarely got the opportunity to enjoy that particular tender cut of meat. Through Aytin, he graciously accepted the offering.

  It was clear that the wildling shaman wanted to stay and ask more about the Makers, but the shadows were beginning to lengthen. His escort - a capable looking male by the name of Tor - had been tapping his spear more and more impatiently as the assembly went on. He looked like he was about to physically drag his charge away when Cue finally seemed to notice how late it was and said his goodbyes.

  Once they were gone, the rest of the camp went back to what they had been doing before. Cooking, chores, training, and keeping watch on the skies.

  All except for Attalee and Rina.

  'At least they didn't keep me waiting.'

  He motioned towards the edge of camp, and the two huntresses followed close behind.

  They didn't go far. Once they were out of earshot, Aytin turned and regarded the pair.

  "Well?"

  He didn't want to prolong the conversation, but Attalee apparently had other ideas.

  "Did Faelon actually need to do that?"

  The words didn't have any particular malice behind them, but he still winced. "No." The huntress just kept staring at him. It wasn't long before he couldn't take it anymore. "The bark doesn't need a blessing. But the Matriarchs thought it was 'Dragon Magic' and I didn't want to correct them and so..." He trailed off and hung his head.

  "And the rest?"

  "The heaven oaks really are sacred. They were gifts from the... the Makers as you call them. This grove needs a guard until more are growing across the island."

  This time it was Rina who spoke. "But you didn't have to tell Cue that it didn't need Faelon's blessing."

  "Your tribe deserves it." Aytin gave a small, bitter smile. "And Faelon might not be here for next winter."

  The two wildlings looked at each other. Rina ruffled her wings slightly before they both turned back and Attalee asked, "What lies have you told?"

  "I... I tried not to. There are things I haven't said. Things I can't say."

  "Can't say?" Attalee raised an eye ridge in question.

  'Gods damn it!' From her look, she wasn't going to let him go until she had answers. But they were so close. So close. And she was going to tear it all down!

  Maybe if it had just been Attalee he would have made something up. Or told a half-truth. With Rina there, looking on impassively, he couldn't. He just... couldn't.

  "Dragons aren't special."

  It took a moment for the words to sink in. For her part, Rina cocked her head in confusion. But Attalee, she seemed... vindicated.

  "They aren't children of the Makers any more than dragonettes are. They made us both. Just different."

  "A lie, then," the elder huntress said, voice even despite the subject.

  Aytin felt something snap. "You were the ones who thought he was special! Like a Maker! I didn't even know what Dragon really meant for days! It's just a name to us! Just like Companion!"

  He turned towards Rina, almost pleading. "To me, Companion just means friend. I'm Faelon's friend. The only one he has left. We were just trying to survive long enough to maybe hurt the ones who killed all of our other friends.

  "We wanted help. We wanted to ask for help, and pay for it in return. Everything else? Once it started, there was no way to stop! None of you would have believed me. Or some of you would have. What would have happened then?"

  Attalee gave a soft snort. "Was that really what you were thinking at the time?"

  "No! I was thinking that I was caught in a storm and I was trying to do anything to get through it!" Aytin let loose a frustrated growl and balled his hands into fists. He could feel his claws cut into the skin of his palms but he didn't care.

  "You both know me as well as I know you. You know what I'm like!" That managed to get a reaction out of Attalee. She obviously didn't appreciate having her own words thrown back at her.

  "I care about the tribe. I care about you, Rina. Just like I care about Faelon. For him, and our friends who they killed, I have to fight the traitors!"

  He was starting to ramble, and he didn't care. The frustration and anger and emotional whiplash of the last few weeks was all pouring out.

  "You don't want your people to be lancers? That's fine. You want me to walk out there and explain what I just told you? Also fine."

  Attalee shook her head. "You just explained what would happen if you did that."

  "Then what do you want from me?!" He was panting, jaw open and lips pulled back. Almost snarling as he looked up at the much larger female.

  Someone touched his arm and he whipped around.

  It was Rina.

  "We both... didn't tell the truth," she said, softly. "Maybe not for bad reasons. But not for good ones. And it got away from us both."

  Aytin let himself uncoil, ever so slightly. "It really did."

  "I'm sorry for what I did. I think you're sorry as well."

  "Very, very sorry. I... I don't know how I could have done things differently. But I wish I had." He let out a low, frustrated hiss through his teeth.

  Rina gave his arm a squeeze. "I understand. But now, we don't have secrets?"

  He blinked. "I... don't think so. If I think of any, I'll tell you."

  "Good." She pulled him close and it felt like a weight had been lifted out of his chest as he embraced her. Together, they turned towards Attalee.

  "We can't say anything about this," Rina told her senior.

  An expression like smelling rotten meat passed across Attalee's face, but she nodded. "There would be chaos. But the lancers-"

  "Made their choice," Rina insisted. "And if things go well, we won't need them. If they don't..." She nudged Aytin.

  "Then they save us all. Or if it is bad enough, we fly. Then we won't need them."

  "I hate this." The words were flat and empty. "They may die for a lie."

  "I hate it, too," Aytin said, and it was very clear that he meant it. "We will try to avoid using them. Anything we can do. And if you think we cannot win..." He gulped before promising, "If you think we'd be throwing them away, then we won't."

  She blinked at that and thought about it for a few seconds before shaking her head. "No. This decision is yours. I will not share the guilt."

  "That's not-" But she cut him off.

  "I will not stop you. I'll even help, if only to save as many of their idiot heads as I can. But if you send them to their deaths, you will have to live knowing that you and you alone were responsible for it."

  Without another word she spun and stalked back to camp, leaving Aytin and Rina alone among the trees.