Chapter 148: Scouting the Lair
The morning sky was colorless—pale gray from horizon to horizon, smothered beneath drifting ash that clung to every surface like a slow, suffocating snowfall. As the gates of Ironmark creaked open, Inigo adjusted the strap on his rifle and stepped forward, boots crunching on soot-laced gravel. Behind him, Lyra walked with her bow in hand, an alchemical arrow notched loosely to the string—not ready to fire, but close.
A local scout, a wiry man named Daren with burns along his left arm, met them at the edge of the trailhead. His leathers were blackened at the seams, and he wore a thick scarf wrapped across his face.
"Name’s Daren," he rasped, voice roughened by smoke. "I’ll take you as far as the Black Cradle. Beyond that, no man in Ironmark’s paid enough coin to keep walking."
Inigo gave a curt nod. "Show us the path."
Daren pointed with a charred walking stick toward a narrow trail that twisted between jagged obsidian ridges. "It’s a three-hour hike through cracked terrain. Watch your step. Some of the ash hides vent holes."
"And if the dragon’s nearby?" Lyra asked.
"You’ll know," he said simply. "Everything gets quiet. Too quiet."
—
The journey began in silence, broken only by the crunch of boots on scorched earth and the distant groan of shifting stone. The trail was barely more than a suggestion—a faint depression winding through a land that had been burnt and broken.
Black spires of volcanic glass jutted from the earth like fossilized flames, their surfaces warped and blistered. At times, faint heat shimmered above the ground. At others, the terrain gave beneath their feet with a hiss, revealing glowing red fissures that pulsed like the veins of a sleeping beast.
Inigo led the way, rifle slung across his chest and finger near the trigger. Every so often, he paused to scan with his binoculars—taking in collapsed trees, half-melted boulders, and the eerie lack of birds or insects. There was no life here. Only heat, stone, and the distant memory of something ancient and angry.
"I thought the jungle back in Elandra was bad," he muttered. "This place makes that feel like a garden."