Later turned out to be about three days later, after one night under the stars, another night in a ghastly, dismal town, and what was looking to be a second night under the stars. I might not have minded so much, had it not been raining. As it was, I minded a great deal.

"I don’t suppose," Robert Sr. yelled, "you see any sign of a town nearby?"

"What?" I asked. Between the continual torrent of rain and the occasional rumbling of thunder, it was blasted near impossible to hear anything.

"I don’t suppose," he tried again, "you—what in the world is that?!"

"What?" I repeated. "Wait—do you see that light?"

"I said, ‘What in the world is that?!’" Robert said, pointing.

I still wasn’t entirely certain what he had said, but I got the general gist of it as an exclamation of shock or excitement. I was a bit shocked and excited myself.

Far off in the distance, where I had previously failed to see anything but soggy fields, there was a light. It was hard to gauge the size or distance, but it was definitely bright, and it hinted at warmth and dryness, two concepts I had almost forgotten the meaning of and would very much like to remember.

"Let’s go!" I said, heading off with renewed energy in the direction of the light. I wasn’t certain whether either Robert heard me, but they both followed.

As we continued walking, sometimes running, through the mud, I began to reassess my estimates of distance and size. One of them had very clearly been off. Either it was a huge light, the type that is caused by forests burning down—or it was very, very close. The farther we walked, the more I began to suspect the former.

"It’s a line of fire!" shouted Robert, and this time I understood him. Moreover, looking at the light, I tended to agree with him. Maybe a lot of little fires, very close together, or one very big, straight line.

"Maybe it’s an encampment of some sort," I said, and Robert nodded.

What he said next, I didn’t know, as at that moment a great torrent of wind and rain hit my face, and it was several seconds before I found myself able to breathe again. I was pretty desperate to get there fast, wherever "there" was. And so we ran headlong into the place we would later long to run headlong out of. Unfortunately, one generally only sees these things in hindsight.

It took perhaps fifteen minutes of running through the brown muddy streak that no longer bore close resemblance to a road before we reached the line of fire. Closer, now, we could see that it was in fact contained within a deep and narrow trench which curved outward in a great arc until it disappeared out of view. I dared not get close enough to the edge of the trench to see what kept it burning even in the middle of the raging storm, but I was pretty sure there were acres of forest down there. In any case, it was the most welcome sight I had seen in quite some time. Even standing near the flames I could feel some of the cold going out of my bones. And only about ten feet away, there was a break in the trench, a bridge of earth about ten feet wide which led straight into the open gates of a village.

I glanced at Robert and Robert. There seemed to be no need to hold a conference. In wordless agreement, the three of us ran across the earthen bridge and into the main street of the village. As in the other villages we had passed through, there was no one on the streets, but this time it seemed a little less eerie since it was raining so hard.

The rain also made it harder to find an inn. It took a good ten minutes of searching before Robert Jr. finally called me to his side.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Look!" he said. "Right here. The words are worn away but it looks like it says "something...ome" Inn.

"No lights," I noted. Maybe the villagers figured the one big fire-arc provided enough light for everybody. Well, they might have been right. At least Robert had been able to read the writing. I hammered on the door, then waited for a few minutes as nothing happened. Not entirely satisfied with that turn of events, I tried the knob. It was locked.

"Robert, why don’t you go get your father?" I suggested. Robert Sr. was standing a ways up the street, staring at the sky. Maybe after living in the palace standing out in the rain was a new experience for him. I didn’t really care, as it provided me with an excuse to get Robert Jr. away for a few moments. A few moments was all it took. When you’ve picked as many locks as I have, it never takes long, even if the door’s chained as well. Which this one was.

"Get over here!" I yelled. Robert Sr. was still staring at the sky, and now Robert Jr. was at his side, doing the same. If this was some weird genetic thing, I wanted no part of it. "Get over here now!"

Both of them started to walk my way, but slowly, with continual glances upward.

I ran to meet them. "Come on. We’ve got to get inside."

"Darian," said Robert Sr., slowly, "what is that?"

Fighting back my annoyance, I looked up where he was pointing. At first, I just saw nothing. Then I realized that I was seeing a whole lot of nothing. Which was a problem, as just to the side of the nothing there were clouds, dimly lit by the moon. But straight ahead, there was only blackness that went on and on.

I didn’t know what that was, but I sure didn’t want to wait around to find out. "Get inside!" I said, and finally all pretense at respect was gone. "Both of you, in that inn! Fast!" This finally seemed to spur them to action, maybe because I sounded like I knew what the black thing was and knew it was very dangerous. I didn’t, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t particularly nice. Nice things don’t usually come in those kinds of sizes. I followed Robert and Robert hastily to the door, but as I crossed the threshold, I could not resist a quick glance back. The blackness was closer, now, and I could begin to make out the shape of it. I slammed the door behind us, fast, and locked it, and refastened the chain, then ran away from it as if it might bite me.

The door was not what I should have been worried about. I should have been worried about the woman behind me, with a good-sized log in her hands. Unfortunately, I had no idea of her presence until she brought the log crashing down on my skull. At which I promptly fell into a shallow sort of unconsciousness, the kind that generally lasts a couple of hours and leaves one with a lingering headache in the morning.

I woke the next morning with a lingering headache. It took a few moments to remember where I might be and why I might be there, and when I did remember, I sat bolt upright so fast I collapsed back down in an instant. I had seen enough, though. Clean, white linen; barren brown buildings outside the barred window; a room that might have been cheery had it not radiated such a dismal air.

It wasn’t prison, but it sure didn’t seem much better. In fact, when Robert and Robert appeared by my bedside, I began to wonder if it mightn’t be worse.

"He’s awake," said Robert Sr.

"Oh, good," said Robert Jr. "Isabella said you would probably be just fine by morning, but I was worried..."

"Isabella?" I said, raising a skeptical eyebrow at the room in an effort to make it stop spinning. "Who is Isabella?"

"She owns this place," said Robert the Younger. "She was very nice, actually—well, she let us stay, anyhow."

"What happened?" I asked finally.

"What happened," said Isabella, "is you shouldn’t go sticking your nose where you don’t belong."

"What?" I said, starting to sit up again and finding that it failed nearly as miserably as the first time. Isabella chuckled a little. I wasn’t entirely sure I shared Robert’s opinion of her.

"You two," said Isabella. "Out."

The Roberts complied without argument, and shut the door behind them to boot.

"Come on, there," Isabella said, giving me her hand. "I didn’t hit you that hard. Get up."

I was not about to accept help from a woman, especially not if she was the one who had gotten me in this position in the first place. There was one thing to be said for her, however. Her presence certainly motivated me to sit up—and stay up. It also motivated me to look for ways out of the room, but in my current condition that was a lot less likely to be useful.

Isabella smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed. "So, what’s the story? I’ve talked to your two friends there, but either they were trying to keep secrets or were the two most clueless people on the face of this earth. The one thing they said, several times, is that I should probably talk to you. So here I am, ready and willing to listen to whatever cockamamie explanations you’ve cooked up."

I was pretty sure I didn’t like this woman. "Explanations for what?"

She cocked her head to one side. "Oh, let’s see. Maybe we should start with you breaking into my house."

"I can explain—" I started, but she cut me off.

"Or if you’d prefer, you three being out on the road in the middle of the night in a raging storm."

"Well, we—" I tried again.

"Or better yet, you walking into this village in the first place." Isabella crossed her arms and eyed me expectantly. "And please don’t try the ‘innocent travelers’ bit, because it really doesn’t suit you, and I’ve heard enough of those stories to know them for what they are."

"What’s wrong with being innocent travelers?" I blurted out.

She gave a derisive snort. "First of all, how many people do you know who just wander from one place to another? Perpetual travelers, I mean? Unless they’re a storyteller or actor or harpist or some such thing, and I know you don’t have any instruments on you, nor costumes, nor props."

"Well, no," I admitted.

"And second," she said, "no one comes to this place unless they’re running from something. And usually, it’s something bad."

"It is?" I asked.

She nodded. "So tell me. What’s haunting you? Some murder, some disagreement with a feudal lord, stolen property, banishment from a kingdom? Who, exactly, is after you?"

I was sure there was a way to backpedal out of this one. Problem was, I had no clue what that way might be. Stalling for time seemed an appropriate tactic, though. "Why does someone have to be after us?" I asked. "Why couldn’t we have another reason for being here?"

She laughed again, but there was an unmistakable darkness in her eyes. "Because, my lad, no one comes here unless they are desperately trying to get away from something. This, you see, is the Dragons’ Lair."

"Dragon!" I said suddenly, as the memories came back. Memories of a large dark shape—a large dark moving shape, with wings. "There was a dragon out there last night! Big, huge beast, coming towards the village—"

Isabella seemed to be taking the news quite calmly. Too calmly, in fact. "Yes, yes, I know," she said matter-of-factly. "You can often see the dragons at night, if you’re outside. You’ll see them plenty during the daytime, too. Just wait."

"You...wha..." I lapsed into silence as Isabella looked at me, for the first time, with something resembling pity.

"You poor soul," she said. "You really didn’t know about the dragons."

For several seconds, my mouth and brain floundered about, trying desperately to find some connection. Finally I managed, "Dragons? There are more than one?"

"Several," she said with a weary smile. "I’ve counted at least ten, and there may well be more than that."

"But...but you’re alive. The village isn’t burnt. I don’t understand."

Isabella fixed me with a steely eye. "I was the one asking questions, stranger, and I would like some answers before long. But I’ll tell you about the dragons now, and then perhaps you’ll see that you haven’t anything to lose by telling me everything."