Derkas stood on the top of the mountain, gazing to the cave at the base of the mountain. Daylight gleamed over the horizon as the new day awakened. He pondered the new information he’d gathered. The night before, it had stormed with heavy rain and loud thunder, but he’d still overheard most of the conversation from the mouth of the cave. The group he’d tracked for the last several days was heading to Vaereal. It wasn’t the location of the Resistance, of that he was certain. He had been to Vaereal before. It was mainly a port village, one where provisions were transported from the southern cities to the keep at Meldakar. He gathered that there was a contact they were supposed to find in Vaereal.

Commotion from below shifted Derkas’s attention to the present. He moved behind a large rock to hide while motioning to his dragon to stay out of sight. Two men exited first, one dark-skinned, the other pale. He assumed them to be the two who had conversed the night before. The dark-skinned man commanded the others with confidence, though Derkas noticed the man’s face twist when he turned away from his companions, his left cheek puffing up, as if he worried whether he had made the correct decision. When he faced the others, he appeared self-assured, with a straight face and hard eyebrows. He conversed with the pale man and an equally pale woman, walking ahead of the party while the rest followed. The leather packs slung on their backs caved inward. Derkas assumed their rations were low and needed to be replenished.

Once they were far enough away, Derkas leaned against the rock, watching them. They were traveling west, almost directly toward Trevium, though with their current path, they would arrive just south of the city. Derkas bit his upper lip. If he hoped to receive his gold for the whereabouts of the Resistance, the party would have to reach Vaereal. However, Captain Doofus and his men could be a problem. Because they suspected the traitors to travel as far as Laeraed, Derkas knew the roads south would all be monitored. He would need to distract the captain and his men. The general did not have faith in the captain, and had decided it would prove more useful to follow the traitors to the Resistance, rather than capture them. At first, Derkas hadn’t understood why. Now he did. He observed the captain and the other dragonriders. Stealth was definitely not their forte. The buffoons would not be successful following the traitors without notice. Derkas would.

He turned away from the party as they departed and strode over to his dragon. The creature lay on the ground. Its eyes met Derkas’s. It huffed loudly.

“I know, boy,” Derkas said as he knelt on the ground to stroke the creature’s forehead.

A grumble vibrated the creature’s body, reminding Derkas of a purring house cat.

“It’s time to go.”

The dragon lifted its head, its lips twitching slightly upward as if in a smile. Unlike most dragonriders, Derkas didn’t believe dragons were stupid beasts without emotion. He knew his dragon understood his every word and was loyal to him to the death.

Derkas climbed atop the saddle and stroked the dragon softly on its neck. He sat back, tightened his black gloves, then patted the dragon twice on the neck.

“Remember, fly low and keep your distance. We don’t want them looking up to see us.”

The dragon’s head bobbed once in response.

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