place, and give you a reasonable period to return. If you're not back by the time we had discussed, we'll start without you. Agreed?"
'Agreed," she said. "But you don't need to give me incentive to hurry back, Achmed. Believe it or not, I have plenty of that."
The Firbolg king nodded. "Do you still have your dagger from your days on the streets of Serendair?"
Rhapsody looked at him oddly. "Yes; why?"
Achmed's face lost the last vestige of a smile. "If you find yourself in a compromising situation with Ashe, use your dagger to cut his balls off, not your sword. Daystar Clarion's fire will cauterize the wound, as you've seen before. If that need arises, you want him to bleed to death rapidly."
'Thank you," Rhapsody said sincerely. She knew the grisly comment was an expression of genuine concern, and she opened her arms. Achmed returned her embrace quickly and uncomfortably, then looked down at her.
'What's that in your eyes?" he demanded. "You're not crying, are you? You know the law."
Rhapsody wiped her hand across them quickly. "Shut up," she said. "You can stuff the law right in the same cavity behind The Rampage of the Wyrm; there's certainly enough room in your case. By your own definition, you should be Lord of the Cymrians." Achmed smirked as she turned and went over to where Jo and Ashe were standing.
'Are you ready?" Ashe asked, picking up his smoothly carved walking staff.
'Yes," Rhapsody said, hugging Jo one last time. "Take care of yourself, sis, and our two big brothers." The teenager rolled her eyes. Rhapsody turned back to Ashe.
"Now let's be off before I say something else to Achmed. I want the last thing I said to him to be something as obnoxious as what he said to me.
Ashe chuckled. "That's a contest you don't want to get into," he said as he checked the bindings on his gear. "I believe you will lose every time."
£'t'ts she and Ashe reached the summit of the last of the crag before the foothills, Rhapsody turned and stared east into the rising sun, which had just begun to crest the horizon. She shaded her eyes, wondering if the long shadows were really the silhouettes of the three people she loved most dearly in the world, or only the hollow reflections of rock and chasm, reaching ominously skyward. She decided after a moment she had seen one of them wave; whether or not she was right didn't matter, anyway.
'Look," said Ashe, his pleasant baritone shattering her reverie. Rhapsody turned and let her gaze follow his outstretched finger in the direction of another line of shadows, miles ofF, at the edge of the steppes where the lowlands and the rockier plains met.
'What is that?" she asked. A sudden gust of wind swirled around her, raising a cloud of dust and whipping her hair into her eyes. She pulled her cloak tighter about shoulders. N
'Looks like a convocation of some sort, humans, undoubtedly," he said after a moment.
Rhapsody nodded. "Ambassadors," she said softly. "They're coming to pay court to Achmed."
Ashe shuddered; the tremor was visible, even beneath his cloak of mist. "I don't envy them," he said humorously. "That ought to shake up their notions of protocol.
Shall we?" He looked off to the west, over the thawing valley and the wide plain past the foothills below them
Rhapsody looked back for a moment longer, then turned her eyes toward the west as well. A slice of the sun had risen behind them, casting a shaft of golden light into the gray mist of the world that stretched out below them. By contrast, the distant line of black figures moved through a jagged shadow.
'Yes," she said, shifting her pack. "I'm ready." Without looking back she followed him down the western side of the last crag, beginning the long journey to the dragon's lair.
In the distance, a figure of a man touched by a darker, unseen shadow stopped for a moment, gazed up into the hills, then continued on its way to the realm of the Firbolg.
found them at the crest of the foothills, laying their course for the
'Agreed," she said. "But you don't need to give me incentive to hurry back, Achmed. Believe it or not, I have plenty of that."
The Firbolg king nodded. "Do you still have your dagger from your days on the streets of Serendair?"
Rhapsody looked at him oddly. "Yes; why?"
Achmed's face lost the last vestige of a smile. "If you find yourself in a compromising situation with Ashe, use your dagger to cut his balls off, not your sword. Daystar Clarion's fire will cauterize the wound, as you've seen before. If that need arises, you want him to bleed to death rapidly."
'Thank you," Rhapsody said sincerely. She knew the grisly comment was an expression of genuine concern, and she opened her arms. Achmed returned her embrace quickly and uncomfortably, then looked down at her.
'What's that in your eyes?" he demanded. "You're not crying, are you? You know the law."
Rhapsody wiped her hand across them quickly. "Shut up," she said. "You can stuff the law right in the same cavity behind The Rampage of the Wyrm; there's certainly enough room in your case. By your own definition, you should be Lord of the Cymrians." Achmed smirked as she turned and went over to where Jo and Ashe were standing.
'Are you ready?" Ashe asked, picking up his smoothly carved walking staff.
'Yes," Rhapsody said, hugging Jo one last time. "Take care of yourself, sis, and our two big brothers." The teenager rolled her eyes. Rhapsody turned back to Ashe.
"Now let's be off before I say something else to Achmed. I want the last thing I said to him to be something as obnoxious as what he said to me.
Ashe chuckled. "That's a contest you don't want to get into," he said as he checked the bindings on his gear. "I believe you will lose every time."
£'t'ts she and Ashe reached the summit of the last of the crag before the foothills, Rhapsody turned and stared east into the rising sun, which had just begun to crest the horizon. She shaded her eyes, wondering if the long shadows were really the silhouettes of the three people she loved most dearly in the world, or only the hollow reflections of rock and chasm, reaching ominously skyward. She decided after a moment she had seen one of them wave; whether or not she was right didn't matter, anyway.
'Look," said Ashe, his pleasant baritone shattering her reverie. Rhapsody turned and let her gaze follow his outstretched finger in the direction of another line of shadows, miles ofF, at the edge of the steppes where the lowlands and the rockier plains met.
'What is that?" she asked. A sudden gust of wind swirled around her, raising a cloud of dust and whipping her hair into her eyes. She pulled her cloak tighter about shoulders. N
'Looks like a convocation of some sort, humans, undoubtedly," he said after a moment.
Rhapsody nodded. "Ambassadors," she said softly. "They're coming to pay court to Achmed."
Ashe shuddered; the tremor was visible, even beneath his cloak of mist. "I don't envy them," he said humorously. "That ought to shake up their notions of protocol.
Shall we?" He looked off to the west, over the thawing valley and the wide plain past the foothills below them
Rhapsody looked back for a moment longer, then turned her eyes toward the west as well. A slice of the sun had risen behind them, casting a shaft of golden light into the gray mist of the world that stretched out below them. By contrast, the distant line of black figures moved through a jagged shadow.
'Yes," she said, shifting her pack. "I'm ready." Without looking back she followed him down the western side of the last crag, beginning the long journey to the dragon's lair.
In the distance, a figure of a man touched by a darker, unseen shadow stopped for a moment, gazed up into the hills, then continued on its way to the realm of the Firbolg.
found them at the crest of the foothills, laying their course for the
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