White Road

ground.
    Alec’s father had taught him to shoot this way, and he quickly began rebuilding his lost collection, to the point that the others began to grumble a bit.
    “Are you a wizard?” asked tall Ethgil, who’d lost three good shattas to Alec. “Those arrows fly like magic!”
    “I grew up with a bow in my hand,” Alec told him, a littleinsulted. “If I didn’t shoot straight, I didn’t eat. Hunger was the only magic I needed.”
    Kheeta smoothed it over, and they all stayed friends and went back to shooting. Alec thought fleetingly of aiming off the mark on purpose, but knew it would hurt their pride if they figured it out.
    By the time the light failed and they headed back to the house with promises of hot tea in the kitchen, Alec felt almost at home. He liked his companions and they seemed to like him. Inwardly, though, he wondered what they thought when they looked at Sebrahn.

CHAPTER 11
Dragon’s Friend
    D AWN WAS just a hint of gold over the eastern peaks when Alec set off with Seregil and Micum through the bitter cold to take Sebrahn to Tyrus Dragon Friend.
    With Seregil leading once again, they followed a road deep into the thick forest beyond the town, and up into the mountains. It had snowed in the night, and the towering firs were clad in white below a clear blue winter sky.
    It’s all so familiar!
thought Alec again, breathing in the sweet, cold air as the way grew steeper.
    “Except for the dragons, this place is a lot like the forests around Kerry,” said Micum, echoing Alec’s thought.
    “And I always thought the forests around Kerry were a lot like here,” Seregil replied with a smile.
    “I can see how you would miss this place,” Micum said, looking around. “And your clan.”
    “It is good to be back.” He and Alec still hadn’t discussed how long they would stay.
    The forest was quiet, but not silent. Small birds sang among the branches, habas chattered as they scampered across the road with their bushy black tails curved over their backs, and hawks cried to one another as they circled against the sky. There were dragons here, too: dragonlings, and others as large as rabbits. Alec and the others gave those a wide berth and the creatures paid no attention to them, more intent on hunting for unlucky mice in their tunnels in thesnow, and tiny dragonlings, too. Alec saw one of the larger ones gobble down two at once.
    “They eat their own,” Micum noted, surprised. They’d seen foxes and hawks, even ravens, devour a few, but never this.
    “So will a pig,” Seregil said. “I think that’s why little dragons are so common and huge ones are so rare. You need a lot of young to start with, so at least a few survive. If all the little ones grew up, there’d be nothing but dragons left. They’d have eaten the rest of us.”
    Sebrahn pointed to the dragons constantly and tried to squirm out of Alec’s arms, presumably to go to them.
    It was midafternoon when they turned aside onto a trail, or what seemed to be a trail. The blanket of snow was smooth between the trees, but Alec soon spotted the hatch marks cut into tree trunks along the way. They were old, the bark long since healed around them. The snow was deep for a man, but the horses fared well enough. More than once, they saw larger dragons circling far above them.
    “Are they likely to come down here?” asked Micum.
    “You never know,” Seregil told him. “Just keep an eye out for them.”
    But none did, and as the shadows lengthened across the trail Alec suddenly caught the scent of smoke—cooking smoke.
    “Would that be from your Dragon Friend’s chimney?” asked Micum.
    Seregil nodded. “He’s the only one up here. Well, the only person, anyway.”
    They came across horse tracks, and signs where a man had dismounted and gone into the trees. They were dusted over with snow—at least a day old, Alec judged. Very soon, however, they struck fresh tracks and came out in a clearing. The ground sloped down, and the large cabin that stood here was built into the hillside. It was crafted from large logs chinked with clay, and had a porch much like the ones at the clan house, except that this one was built on long posts, with what looked like a stable underneath. The smoke was comingfrom a large stone chimney on the far end of the building, carrying the aroma of grouse and onions.
    The dragonlings were so thick here that Alec and the others had to dismount and lead their horses carefully to avoid trampling any in