Read Online Bloodfire Quest by Terry Brooks - Free Book Online Page B

Elfstones—seemed distant and unimportant. Given their present circumstances, it even felt pointless. Staying alive was all that mattered now, and he was having difficulty imagining that.
    He said nothing of his fears to the others; there was no need to do so, because they would almost certainly be struggling with the same feelings. He told himself not to be distracted, but to remember that while there was life there was hope. He was not helpless; he was not without intelligence and common sense. The magic of the wishsong was a formidable weapon. He just needed to stay alert and keep moving. Sooner or later, something would happen that would help them all get free again.
    He told himself all of this, and believed almost none of it.
    Time stretched out in singularly bleak fashion as they made their way through country that never changed in any appreciable way. Already Redden was beginning to wonder what they were going to do for water when their own ran out. They had encountered only stagnant swamp water, none of it drinkable. Eventually the food would run out, too. He was wondering how long Khyber Elessedil would let them go on without finding anything before she turned them back. He could not imagine it would be for much longer.
    In fact, he told himself when they were hours into their march and the first suggestion of real twilight crept over the land, she would announce it that night.
    And then they saw the dragon.
    It was flying out of the south, coming toward them in that unmistakable looping, undulating fashion, great wings spread wide, legs tucked up close to its body.
    “Mistress!” Pleysia hissed, bringing them all to a halt.
    They crouched down at once, doing the best they could to blend into the terrain as the dragon approached at an oblique angle that would carry it just west of them. Redden knew it at once for the dragon that had carried off Oriantha and Crace Coram—unless this was an exact double—thanks to the strange striping along the trailing edges of its wings.
    When it flew past them, heading north and west, they could see clearly that it carried no passengers.
    Pleysia climbed to her feet slowly in the wake of its passing, her face twisted and grim. “It’s left them somewhere,” she declared at once.
    “If it’s the same beast,” the Ard Rhys answered.
    Pleysia wheeled on her. “No two Drachas share the same markings! You know that as well as I. All the histories say so. Drachas are unique. You, boy!” She turned the bright glare of her eyes on Redden. “Was it the same beast or not? You saw it clearly when it flew off. Were the markings on its wings a match?”
    Redden nodded reluctantly. “They were.”
    “There! Even the boy agrees. It is the same beast. Oriantha and the Dwarf have escaped it. We must go on!”
    The Ard Rhys gave her a brief smile. “No one ever said we wouldn’t, Pleysia. Please take the lead.”
    The other woman did so, striding out with grim determination. Within seconds she was twenty yards ahead of the rest of them.
    Redden moved up alongside the Ard Rhys and whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think I should lie.”
    “Don’t apologize for telling the truth. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. I know it’s the same dragon.”
    “But you think they’re dead, don’t you? Crace Coram and Oriantha. What’s going to happen when she finds out?”
    “I’m not so sure either of them is dead, Redden. But knowing is necessary before she will agree to give up the search.” She gave him a long look. “I know you want to go back. I know you worry for your brother. I worry for him and for the others, too. But until we know there is nothing more we can do for our missing friends, we can’t quit looking. We owe them that.”
    They marched on through the twilight until Khyber Elessedil brought them to a halt on a broad, open rise that gave them a clear view of everything approaching from all directions.
    “We’ll spend the night here. Three on watch,