Caelan sent his sword away with a flick and snapped his middle finger and thumb, thinking that maybe it could create a spark, but nothing happened.
“Maybe think less spark and more…ball of energy,” Rayne suggested.
He smirked over his shoulder at his advisor. Yes, of course Rayne had thoughts on how to do this.
Caelan curled his left hand into a loose fist and lifted it to his lips. He closed his eyes and imagined pushing a small ball of energy into his hand as he blew slowly. His warm breath swirled and rounded until it felt like it was a large marble resting on his palm.
Lowering his hand, Caelan turned it and unfolded his fingers to reveal a bright-white ball glowing against his skin. He’d done it. He’d actually done it.
“Whoa,” Drayce breathed. “That is so freaking cool.”
“Let’s see if I can be even more impressive,” Caelan murmured. Grabbing the ball in his right hand, he pressed a bit more power into it before tossing it up into the air. The ball rose and stopped near the roof, hanging above their heads like a lamp.
“That is much better,” Rayne declared with a relieved sigh.
Caelan snorted. “We can see, but I’m not entirely sure how to turn the light off now that I’ve created it.”
“Maybe it’ll wear out like a lightbulb,” Eno said.
They moved into the building that was only slightly larger than a two-car garage. It was mostly empty except for the metal shelves that lined all of the walls. They held containers of fuel, food rations that were almost entirely moldy now, and other supplies such as blankets, batteries, and rope.
“This was likely one of Ilon’s supply stops on their way to Green Spring,” Rayne murmured, as he pulled open one of the moldering cardboard boxes.
Caelan grunted in agreement. “Which means we’re still on the right course.”
“Should we make camp here for the night?” Eno asked.
A frown tugged at the corners of Caelan’s mouth. It was barely past midday. Still plenty of hours to make some progress, but there was no telling when they’d find another good spot to make camp. Staying ensured they’d have a good night’s sleep and would give them time to ransack all the supplies. They could use some rest.
It also was a matter of trying to balance their speed against their need to confront Zyros while giving Adrian enough time to catch up to them with the Erya army in tow. Even if General Morgan had completed all the preparations before Adrian’s arrival, moving that many soldiers, weapons, and supplies was not going to be a quick endeavor.
“Let’s sleep here tonight. We’ll stock up on what we can and start fresh in the morning.”
“If we’re lucky, we might even get some more clues as to what was happening with the people being sent to Green Spring,” Rayne muttered under his breath. He didn’t sound hopeful, and Caelan couldn’t blame him.
“Have you worked out a theory yet?” Caelan inquired as he moved to a different set of shelves.
The bright-white light overhead pushed back the deeper shadows, but new ones formed as they moved, stretching and clawing from the deepest corners. Mildew, greenery, and the faint hint of waste tinged the air. Had they stored people in the building during the long trek to their final destination? Caelan couldn’t imagine what they’d been told on the journey. Did they believe they were still in Ilon? Had they been shackled and terrified? Or had they been promised a bright hopeful future in a new home away from their mad emperor?
“I know one of our thoughts was that the people were merely food for the beasts of the Ordas, but I’m inclined to believe we’re wrong on that count,” Rayne started. He crossed to the door Eno had kicked in and closed it. He slid a large drum in front of it to keep the local wildlife from entering unexpectedly. “From what we’ve seen, there’s no reason to provide the animals sustenance. The creatures of the Ordas are more than capable of feeding on each other. This isn’t a bloody zoo, and the government of Ilon aren’t the keepers.”
“Then what? An offering to Zyros?” Drayce replied.
Rayne stopped and stared at the dragon for a moment. “Actually, yes.”
Eno’s head jerked up from where he’d been digging through a crate of canned goods. “What? Like human sacrifices?”
“No. No. Nothing like that.” Rayne pushed a hand through his messy, damp hair, shoving it from his eyes. He leaned against a wall, his arms loosely folded across his chest. “I’ve been thinking of the story that Lore told about Zyros, how she was a huntress for her tribe. The Ordas wasn’t always the Ordas. Wild, I’m sure, but probably more like our own forests of Erya. Within this land, there were likely many tribes and villages. Most—if not all—were probably lost in the Gods War. Maybe this is a gift from Lore to replace a bit of what she lost.”