The forest, when it re-appeared, hadn't changed. A dream?
She wrapped her hand around the warm hilt of the sword and felt its weight in her palm. "Not a dream."
"Unfortunately not," said Dameon, dryly. "And now we have to defeat an evil sorcerer?"
She turned to face him. "It's not like I'm over the moon, either." All she wanted was to go home, but she couldn't leave William in the grip of the Fae. Or the princess. "It's all your fault, anyway," she said. "If you hadn't attacked my village, we wouldn't be in this mess."
"So you're saying I have to help you kill this warlock as some king of penance?" he asked.
She put her hands on her hips and blew a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Well you should, but if all you're going to do is complain, you can leave. I'll handle this myself." She felt more capable now, dressed properly and with a decent sword at her hip. She let her body relax into its normal stance, revelling in the warmth of her new clothes and solid leather boots.
Dameon eyed her. "I have no doubt you could," he agreed. "You're the bravest princess I've ever captured."
She frowned at him. "I'm not a princess."
"Not by blood, maybe," he said. "But by heart? I'm not so sure."
He was watching her, but there was no trace of mockery in his gaze. A flattering dragon she could handle - charm was something she'd grown immune to over years of fending off handsy men at the tavern - but a sincere dragon she didn't know what to do with.
Ignoring the way her cheeks heated, Alannah tightened her leather belt. "Are you coming or not?" she asked, hoping for... she didn't know what.
"I'll come," he said and a part of her eased when he said it. Alannah could handle anything this forest could throw at her, but it would be nice to know she had someone to watch her back. "And as much as I'm sure you don't need my help, dragon fire might come in handy."
"You can transform again?"
He nodded. "There's no restriction on my magic in this realm." He stretched, raising both arms over his head. "Besides, I haven't faced a warlock in years. I don't want to get rusty."
"When we find him, you can take a chunk out of his hide," promised Alannah. They just had to find him first.
Behind her was the forest as she knew it; dusty light rays and dappled green canopy, lilting birdsong and the rustle of woodland creatures. Ahead, though, the trees grew so tightly together that only a trickle of sickly light made it through. The branches looked black and the birdsong halted at the wood's border. The place seemed deathly still.
"No wonder they call it Darkwood."
"What, frightened?" she asked.
A snort. "Dragons don't fear darkness."
Alannah shrugged and pushed her way inside. The sound didn't cut off immediately, as she'd half expected it to. Instead it faded incrementally as she moved deeper into the dark heart of the forest.
Movement behind her and she heard Dameon's voice. "How are we going to find him? Can we use your thread again?"
She paused for a second as something occurred to her. "Can't you smell anything?" she asked, in lieu of answering straight away. "Dragon's noses are pretty strong, I hear. They must be, if you can smell gold and princesses."
He grumbled. "Most princesses are scentable by that damn lavender oil they all use. And all I smell in here is green: trees and grass." He sniffed audibly. "And old smoke," he added, in a more contemplative tone, "like charred wood."
"The warlock's been burning down their trees. We can just follow the path of destruction." If that didn't work, she'd have to use her thread, but with the conflicting emotions growing in her chest, she couldn't be sure it would lead her to the warlock.
Alannah ducked under a branch. This Darkwood wasn't so bad, actually. It was cooler than the rest of the forest. And there were things living inside, although they weren't as friendly as the birds and the bunnies outside. A black and red spider dangled in her path, as big as the palm of her hand. She drew her sword and severed its thread. It scuttled away into the undergrowth. The dangling piece of spider silk gleamed. She tugged it off the tree and stuck it in her pocket, alongside the scales.
Dameon stared at her with fascination. "Can you use that, too?"
"No," she replied, "but I can sell it."
"I suppose you're the sort to lure unicorns to you just so you can collect their tears."
"Of course I wouldn't do that." She poked another spider out of her way. "Well, I mean, if the unicorn was right there - unicorn tears go for a lot, you know."
"Mercenary."
"Do dragons cry?" she asked, keeping her sword drawn. With a warlock on the loose, she couldn't trust that a simple spider was what it seemed.
"Not in draconian form," replied Dameon. He was struggling with the bushes more than she was. "We have a set of inner eyelids that protect our eyes from dust and heat. It keeps us from producing tears."
"Oh. I guess they'd be harder to sell, anyway."
"If I ever shed a tear, you'll be the first person I think of," he promised.
"Um, thanks?"
"You know," Dameon said, his voice muffled as he wrestled with one thorny branch, "there's only one of you now."
"Uh, there was only one of me before," she replied. "That I know of, anyway, unless someone's performed a duplication spell I'm not aware of."
"I mean, there are only two of us," he corrected.
She shot him a look over her shoulder. "Where are you going with this?"
"If I transformed, I could carry you to the warlock," he replied. "It would save us fighting these damn trees."
Alannah thought about it for a moment in silence. "Thanks for the offer," she said, carefully, "but I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?" he asked and she pointed up at the canopy.
"Those branches are so twisted the sunlight can barely get through. Even if we're directly above, there's no guarantee we'll be able to see clearly enough to find the warlock. Besides," she added, "I've flown with you once, and I didn't exactly enjoy the experience."
His voice went smug. "I was pretty frightening."
"Oh, it wasn't that," she said, breezily. "I was bored."
"Bored?" he repeated. Then, again, "Bored? Only you," he muttered, and Alannah could practically hear him rolling his eyes, "only you would get captured by a dragon, flown miles from your village and find it boring."
"Oh stop grumbling," she said. "You'll just have to put up with the forest."
"I'm not grumbling," she heard, and grinned.
Up ahead, the dark grey of the forest turned even darker, like a shadow under a stormcloud. Alannah altered her direction towards it. "Looks like we found one of those old trees," she called back. It was a blackened stump, charred and broken. The ground surrounding it was covered in ash. Alannah crouched and broke off a piece of bark in her hand. It crumbled, leaving nothing but a smear of charcoal on her fingers. "If there was a spirit living here, there's not any more," she said, softly. No wonder the Fae were so annoyed. But why was the warlock targeting these trees in the first place?
"He must be attacking the Fae," said Dameon, echoing her thoughts a little too closely for comfort. He toed at a charred piece of bark. "Getting them riled up."
Alannah brushed off her hands and stood. "It doesn't make sense. He's courting war."
Dameon shrugged. "Does it matter? All we need to do is find him and get rid of him. The Fae can worry about his motivations later."
"I guess." Something about this didn't feel right.
Dameon raised his head and his nostrils flared. "There's more this way." Without waiting for an acknowledgement, he strode off in the direction he'd pointed out. Sighing, Alannah followed him. She hoped William and Rose wouldn't be too worried when their rescue didn't come straight away.