Chapter 29: A Calling?
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Third time came at dusk. A squad of slate-armored scouts set sentry fires on the ridge Zephyr needed to cross. Whispers of Command Aura Tier 1, still faint, but growing with every food Star consumed with beast feed cultivation skill. A herd of frost-goats into a stampede that scattered the camp long enough for the fugitives to slip past.
Each escape left Zephyr's pulse hammering, shoulder wound aching, but also sharpened the rhythm between him and Fenna. Hand signals, shared breaths, silent laughs when luck held. Star, too, learned—wings tighter to his body, embers banked low, violet glow dimmed under Fenna's quick dustings of veilsand.
Snow thickened after sunset, whirling curtains that deadened sound. By the time they reached the valley of hot springs Luke's map promised, Zephyr's lantern oil was gone and both their cloaks were crusted white.
At last steam pillars rose from black rock, a hidden grotto whose mineral heat painted the night in copper haze. Dragon Sense found no sentries, no beasts, only deep thermal vents murmuring like ancient drums.
Zephyr squeezed Fenna's fingers. "Sanctuary, only for a night."
They ducked inside. Warm mist kissed frozen cheeks; muscles unclenched. Star bounded forward, skidding on wet stone, before settling near the largest pool with a contented trill.
Fenna set her pack down, exhaustion melting into quiet purpose. "I'll start a brew which your shoulder needs. It will make your shoulder better."
Zephyr gathered half-dry driftwood. As sparks leapt, he looked at the little dragon already dozing in radiant heat and at Fenna's determined silhouette.
"Tomorrow," he thought, "flight drills, bloodline focus, and then the mountain... something beyond it. I must go to that place. That place can help. My heart is guiding me. It's telling me to go there. I don't know how and why, but I am feeling a connection to that place."