Page 31 of The Last Dragon

The one whose location no one knew.

The one they said mastered alchemy.

He couldn’t help but wonder...

Who was Cassian really?

The mercenary, for his part, spoke calmly into his ear, completely ignoring his questions as his arms brushed the elf’s waist. “We’re going to have to cross a plain. We’ll be out in the open.”

Tariel didn’t answer. Not right away. As he tightened his grip on the reins, he could sense that something had shifted. Maybe he wasn’t just a mercenary. Maybe he was much more than that.

Who on earth was that man?

9 - Confrontation

Cassian

Cassian was well aware of how exposed he was at that moment. A man like Tariel would eventually start to suspect something… The most sensible thing to do was to keep him by his side long enough for the elf to trust him.

But how?

A logical explanation for his alchemical abilities could be that his fictional parents, as servants of dragons, were able to teach him before they met their demise. An explanation that would account for his alchemical abilities as well as the Morgraves’ eagerness to recruit him as a mercenary in their service.

Lost in thought, he was suddenly jolted out of his reverie by a flock of abnormally large vultures rising into the sky like black smoke. He looked up and—

Damn it… The swarm was thickening, seeming to grow before his very eyes.

And it was heading straight for them.

Before him, Cassian saw the elf reach out his arm toward the black mass. Without a word, a fiery aura formed around his arm, and a bird of fire sliced through the air.

He had summoned a phoenix.

That elf was… definitely full of surprises.

Tariel, in a single fluid motion, reinforced its defense by summoning a swarm of sharp-clawed fiery birds of prey to support it in the melee, before looking back to shout over the noise, “I figure if the birds are here, the troops can’t be far behind. Any ideas?”

Cassian agreed—the vibrations in the air left no room for doubt: a small army was approaching.

“Do you see that charred forest over there? We absolutely need to reach that area. To the southeast, the flames haven’t destroyed everything—there’s still some greenery left, just like that lake. We need to hurry, but I doubt that—”

Before he could finish, a dark cloud engulfed the phoenix in a loud explosion, consuming it from all sides. From below, the Prince of Morgraves appeared, perched on a massive griffin similar to the one in the crypt.

Of course, he had to come himself, he thought with a grimace.

Cassian rested his chin on the elf’s shoulder, barely meeting his gaze as he sighed, “Tariel, Phineas uses dark magic and poison. Don’t let him get to you—he wants your head and my powers. He’s going to target you, so keep following the falcon, and don’t look back!”

The mercenary paused, looking up at the stormbird: the summoning talisman had been given to him by Rhazek, chief of the Olyar clan and an old friend of Cassian’s, to guide him wherever he might be. Today, he was counting on the beast to guide the elf.

He wasn’t sure he’d still be around to do it himself.

“It will guide you to the southeastern forest. I’ll distract them.”

Tariel opened his mouth to protest, but Cassian cut him off. He wasn’t giving him a choice. “Don’t look back!”

At those words, he leaped from his mount and rolled to the ground, causing it to bolt with Tariel clinging to her mane—it was for the best, he thought. The army was closing in fast, and he had only a brief moment to prepare.

The prince’s griffin landed nearby, and his guards immediately surrounded the two men. Phineas stepped toward Cassian, his gaze ablaze. In a tone laced with amusement and surprise, the man accused, “You’re protecting that elf, then… Just like I thought you were.”