Blayre had never been so exhausted in her life. She realized with some amount of worry, that the exhaustion was affecting her ability to filter through different magic threads with her Sense. It was much like using a sifter with holes that were too large, and all the pieces of debris were mixing in with the sand.
She rubbed at her head, suppressing a yawn. Caval stopped beside her and rubbed her back gently. "You okay?" He asked quietly, eyebrows raised in concern.
"Not really... but I'll have to be." She replied with grim determination.
"What are we stopping for? How long is this going to take?" One of the mountain men demanded.
"Sorry." Blayre said, "Just getting my bearings." They had been descending the mountain for hours, with Blayre bending down every so often to read a print in the moist ground, or read a broken sapling. Once they got far enough away, she hoped that she could follow the magic that that egg was giving off.
They had retraced their steps back to the caverns and, while Caval likely thought that Blayre was making a show of physically tracking Bartley, for their new companions, the reality was that she actually needed to track him the old fashioned way. She couldn't tell
The shorter of the two men was helping her at least. His name was Khon and he had a much more pleasant demeanor than the quietly stern, Opocht, or the prickly female, Makaya
"I have a feeling that Bartley will make a stop in Mountainvale," Caval mused, as they walked. "The man has to rest at some point, and I suspect that the crystals that were being stored there might have been a check in for him," He turned to the three clans-people. "Do dragon eggs require the magic from the crystals to hatch?"
"Yes," said Makaya. "And it can take months - or it can take years." She closed her mouth and continued on walking, tight-lipped. And you knew you were incubating a dragon egg. How long would it take to hatch? Blayre wanted to press further, but a warning look from Caval made her stop reluctantly. If her knowledge-seeking friend was trying not to prod, then she shouldn't either.
Except that knowing if and when a dragon would be released upon the world was useful as more than just a way to satisfy a thirst for knowledge, and a need to satisfy curiosity.
"The sooner we track this mage down. The better for us all." Makaya said.
Blayre wasn't sure how long she had been walking, but at some point everything began to blur into nothing. She vaguely remembered someone smacking her hard on the back. Then she stumbled and fell to her knees, with too much trembling exhaustion seeping deep into her very soul, to know what was happening. Everything was a distant hum around her. A familiar male voice was yelling, and then hands were touching her, and a familiar feeling of magic was touching her, entering into her body and exiting. "It's useless," She mumbled, but wondered if she had even uttered the words aloud.
Someone was trying to heal and re-energize her, and was either ignorant to the fact that it would not result in success, or was just desperate enough to try anyway. She felt herself slipping into darkness, an occurrence that had happened a couple too many times in the past week, and though she tried so hard to hold on, she was so so so tired.
When Blayre awoke, she was swathed in warm blankets, and the faint scent of woodsmoke and cinnamon wafted into her nose. She felt someone beside her. She could feel their faint, regular breathing. They were sleeping, it seemed. She attempted to crack open her eyes, and found it more difficult than she had expected. A small moan escaped her dry cracked lips, and she swallowed. The blankets, which had at first felt comforting, now felt hot and smothering.
"Blayre?"
She had been writhing and trying to escape her trappings, but froze at the sound of the voice. It was deep and rich, and slightly lilting. A large hand rested on her shoulder. Sending strength and sensation through her that had nothing to do with magic.
"Rory?" She croaked, finally yanking her stubborn, heavy eyelids open. Disbelief flooded her and she suddenly felt both weak and strong, liquid and solid all at once. Was she dreaming, or was it truly him? If this was a dream, she decided, trying to shift in the bed. I wouldn't ache so much.
He leaned down, copper waves falling over his ocean eyes, the faint sunlight from the window highlighting the tan and freckled color of his cheeks from time spent in the summer sun.
"Lass," Rory's word came out choked and hoarse. And he was burying his face in her shoulder, shaking. Sobbing, Blayre realized. He was sobbing.
And then, as she stroked her fingers through his soft hair, it came flooding back. The last time she had seen him, tears had streaked down his face. And she had walked away. So why was he here? Why was she here? Where was here, anyway?
"Rory," Her voice came out in a hoarse croak. She swallowed and tried again, "Rory, where are we?" But as she glanced around the room. At the plain walls and deep blue rugs, with shelves of books and trinkets, she knew already.
He slowly lifted himself from her chest, rubbing at his eyes and visibly taking in a deep breath. "You're home, lass. We brought you here. After you collapsed and they carried you most of the way. I came across you all in Mountainvale, and decided that we couldn't keep you in an inn to heal. Not with that blasted sorcerer Bartley running free, and those Mountain folk eying you up like you would be their dinner if you didn't wake up soon."
Home. It wasn't home. But it was close, she supposed, glancing around her old room. She was surprised it had been left intact. She never stayed in Blumore when she came to visit, always choosing to stay in Mountainvale to avoid needless contact with Marianna. But as she glanced around the chamber, it was as though everything from her younger years had been frozen in time.
"I...where's Caval?" She asked.
Blayre saw Rory flinch briefly.
"And Ripley... is he here?" She didn't feel him. So he clearly wasn't nearby. But she assumed that if Rory was here, Ripley would be too.
"Ripley is still in the Capital until I return. Well... I hope he is. I didn't exactly tell him I was leaving." Rory ran his hands through his hair, only temporarily moving it away from his face. It was long enough to tie back, and Blayre itched to get one of the hair ties from the drawer of her small vanity table, and tie it for him.
"You can't be serious. The man must be halfway here by now, if you left him behind." Blayre said with a laugh that turned into a cough.
Rory gave a smile, "I am." He gave a small smile, and then his eyes turned distant as he said "Caval...He was worried about you. Still is, probably."
"But where is he?" Blayre pressed.
"The Mountain Folk have him. They're still tracking down Bartley."
"They have him?" Blayre asked, "What do you mean they have him?" She had no doubt that Caval wanted to find Bartley. But what good was he in tracking the man, even if his magic stores were replenished? Caval had as good as given himself up to the other mage, and she had no doubt that Bartley would not hesitate to tell their Master how far his precious understudy had fallen from his hard-earned position of honor. Going back to the Capital might be suicide for him right now.
Rory cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "He wanted to go. He agreed to it."
"Twelve hells, of course he did. The persistent bastard." She muttered.
"And it was a peace offering - to the Mountain folk. They wanted to keep you too."
"Keep me? Like what a dog?" Blayre wasn't sure if she wanted to believe the interpretation of what she was hearing.
"They want him to work for them. They wanted you to work for them too, but... We got you away and out of it." Rory spread his hands out. "Your father helped."
At that moment, the door burst open and three familiar faces appeared. One, ivory and framed by raven black locks, barreled into her with such strength that the wind was knocked out of her.
"Darya?" Blayre asked in disbelief when she saw her sister's face.
The young girl looked up, cheeks flushed and rosy. "I'm so glad you're home Blayre."
I don't think I am, thought Blayre wryly. Though she was glad to see her younger sibling as she stroked the 13 year old's hair.
Ainslee and Fletcher filed in, and Blayre realized that Ainslee was crying. "What's the matter?" Blayre asked.
Ainslee rushed over to her and hugged her as best she could leaning down over the bed. Rory stood from the chair he'd been in, and stepped away to give them more space.
"Ains, what's wrong?" Blayre asked again. She was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the sudden crowd of people in the room.
"What's wrong?" Ainslee said in an almost-shriek. "Blayre, you disappeared in the middle of the night. We thought Caval did something to you."
"He didn't," Blayre said, not liking the tone her friend was using when she said the sorcerer's name.
"Well he certainly got you into quite a mess," Ainslee said bitterly.
"He got me out of a mess," Blayre corrected. She glanced around the room, looking for an ally, Fletcher looked rather helpless, and Rory gave her a brief shake of the head.
He cleared his throat, "Now that she's awake. Could we have a moment?"
Ainslee gave him a seething look, but Fletcher quickly moved in to usher her out of the room. "Let them talk. She's not going anywhere."
The window was open and when the door had clicked shut, the breeze that had been moving the curtains in an ethereal undulation, ceased. The atmosphere was suddenly stuffy and oppressive. Blayre threw off the blankets. When the room had cleared, it was only Blayre, Rory and the shelves of memories, but he stood silent for a moment longer than she would have liked.
"Why are you here?" She asked. The elatedness that she had initially felt at his appearance had begun to fade away to numbness as she thought about how she had parted ways before she left. She felt horrible. And yet...here he was.
"Blayre, they know about you. In the capital."
"And apparently so do you now," She offered. "Did they send you to retrieve me?"
Rory's usually jovial face was grim, "Blayre. They don't want to harm you. They want to help you. I was supposed to meet you halfway - after our men were supposed to capture you and bring you back...."
"When they rendered me unconscious and tried to kidnap me?" Her voice was more mild than the rage that she was beginning to feel inside.
"I didn't sanction that," Rory said, hands clasped behind his back. He was pacing slowly across the room, each footfall landing lightly on the carpet. "But they didn't know how else to get you."
"Asking me if I wanted to go in the first place would have been an option. Giving me a choice. That's why I've hid this. I've hid it my entire life." She managed to choke out. "Because, no one is going to look at me now as someone who has earned her place. No one is going to give me a choice, Rory. And that scares the shit out of me."
Rory, to his credit, gave her a look of sympathy and then took in a deep, shaking breath. "I know. And... that's why I brought you here. Not to Mountainvale. Your father wants you protected. And if the mountain-folk you were traveling with had found out...Caval did choose to go with them. Probably to protect you, but also because I think he wants some sort of retribution over that other mage."
"Do you know what Conal plans to do with that egg?" Blayre asked.
Rory spread his hands out, palms up, "I have no idea. That I knew absolutely nothing about."
"But you were sent to retrieve me. Likely because they thought that I would be more willing to go with you." A sudden thought struck her. "There was something that... Bartley and Hans were discussing. Something I overheard." She swallowed. This was a difficult thing to say, especially to Rory. But she needed to know if he knew. He watched her patiently as she rallied her strength.
"I think Conal believes that if I am ... matched ... with Caval, that our offspring will be incredibly powerful with both the ability to sense and produce magic."
Rory's face darkened, crimson anger beginning to color his cheeks. "What." Was all he said, but it came out more as a threat than a question.
"So it's confusing," Blayre went on. "On one hand the Crown is trying to drag me back to the Capital." She held out her left hand. "On the other the Crown Sorcerer is trying to keep Caval and I together."
"I don't think... I don't think Conal fully trusts Caval. That was how they discovered who you were... they found evidence... research notes... in Caval's rooms."
A/N: I noticed while writing this chapter, that the names Conal and Caval are pretty similar. So I'm thinking that for a future edit, Conal's name will be changed. Any  name suggestions for a super powerful and possibly ill-willed Crown Sorcerer are welcome.
Also, I HIT 100K WORDS.