Night in the Dornish desert was a different kind of cruelty.
The sun's heat disappeared as if it had never existed, leaving behind a biting cold that sank into bones and made every wound throb twice as hard. Kael rode at the rear, one hand pressed to his bandaged ribs, the other gripping the reins so tightly his knuckles ached. Every step of the horse sent fresh pain lancing through his side. He kept biting the inside of his cheek to stay awake.
Just a bastard who got lucky, he kept thinking. Nothing more.
Sylva rode in front of him on the same horse, her back stiff against his chest. She had refused to let anyone else carry her. Every now and then she shifted, and Kael felt the warmth of her body through the thin fabric. He hated how aware he was of it. He hated even more that she probably felt the same unwanted awareness.
"Stop breathing down my neck," she muttered after an hour of silence.
"I'm trying not to fall off," Kael answered. His voice was hoarse.
Ysira rode ahead, leading the horse that dragged the egg on its makeshift litter. She hadn't spoken since they left the battlefield. Mira rode beside her, silent as a shadow, but Kael caught her glancing back at him more than once. Calculating. Always calculating.
They had entered the Boneway — the narrow, rocky pass that cut through the Red Mountains. Ancient, haunted ground. The perfect place to hide… or to disappear forever.
Around midnight, they found a shallow cave tucked behind a cluster of jagged boulders. Not ideal, but good enough. They tied the horses, dragged the egg inside, and built a small fire using dried brush that smelled like smoke and regret.
Sylva lay down on her side near the fire, wincing. Kael sat across from her, close enough to feel the heat but far enough to keep his distance. Ysira cleaned her blade with slow, deliberate strokes. Mira stood at the entrance, listening to the night.
The egg rested against the far wall, covered by silk. Its veins were dark now. Almost ordinary. But Kael could still feel it in the back of his mind — like someone watching him from across a crowded room.
Ysira finally spoke.
"Ser Gwayne had friends in King's Landing," she said quietly. "Not just any friends. People close to Lord Tyrion Lannister. If they learn what we have…"
"They'll come," Mira finished. "Not with thirty men. With an army. Or worse — with questions."
Kael poked the fire with a stick. Sparks flew up. "And what will Prince Qoren do when he finds out his favorite spy kept this from him?"
Mira turned her head slowly. Her grey eyes caught the firelight. "He will reward loyalty… and punish ambition."
The words hung heavy. Everyone understood what she hadn't said: she was still deciding which one she was.
Sylva laughed weakly from the ground. "We're all fucked. Richly fucked."
Kael looked at her. In the firelight, the copper in her hair looked like blood. She was younger than he had first thought. Scared. Trying hard not to show it. When their eyes met, she didn't look away immediately. There was anger there, but something else too — a quiet, reluctant curiosity about the stupid bastard who had thrown himself in front of her.
He looked away first.
Hours passed. The fire burned low.
Kael couldn't sleep. The pain kept him awake, but so did the thoughts. He kept remembering the moment he touched the egg. That cold curiosity that had answered him. It hadn't felt like power. It felt like being measured… and found wanting.
Ysira moved silently and sat beside him. Close. Too close.
"You're shaking," she observed. Not gentle. Just factual.
"Cold," he lied.
She studied his face for a long moment. Her green eyes were tired, but still sharp. "You're not what I expected when I saw those violet eyes. I thought you'd be… more."
"Disappointed?" Kael asked with a crooked smile.
"Relieved," she admitted quietly. "Arrogant men die fast. Useful, broken ones last longer."
Her hand brushed his arm as she reached for the water skin. The touch lingered half a second longer than necessary. Neither of them mentioned it. But Kael felt it — that small, dangerous spark of awareness. He pushed it down. She was a noble. He was a bastard. Tomorrow she might slit his throat if it suited House Uller.
Mira's voice came from the shadows near the entrance.
"Someone's coming."
They were all on their feet in seconds. Sylva groaned in pain but grabbed her bow. Kael drew his sword, teeth clenched against the pain in his ribs.
Hooves. Only two horses. Slow. Cautious.
A man's voice called out in the darkness.
"Peace! We saw the fire. We seek water… and news."
Ysira stepped forward, blade hidden behind her back. "Show yourselves."
Two riders emerged into the firelight. Both wore plain traveler cloaks, but their armor underneath was too fine for common men. The older one had a trimmed beard and clever eyes. The younger looked nervous.
"We come from the west," the older man said. "We heard… rumors. Of something found in the dunes. And of Ser Gwayne's death."
Kael's stomach dropped.
Mira's hand moved toward her hidden knife.
Ysira smiled — sweet, dangerous. "Rumors travel fast."
The older man's eyes flicked to the covered shape against the wall. Just for a moment. But long enough.
Kael realized too late what was happening.
The younger rider suddenly kicked his horse forward, drawing a blade. "For Storm's End!"
Chaos exploded in the small cave.
Sylva loosed an arrow. It hit the younger man in the chest. He fell.
The older man was faster. He threw a dagger straight at Ysira. She twisted, but it cut her shoulder. She cried out — not in pain, but in pure rage.
Kael lunged forward. His swing was clumsy from exhaustion, but the Valyrian steel did its work. It bit deep into the man's side. The traveler screamed and collapsed.
Panting, bleeding again, Kael looked down at the dying man.
The older traveler grabbed Kael's wrist with surprising strength. Blood bubbled from his mouth as he whispered:
"They already know… in King's Landing… the dragon egg… and the bastard with violet eyes…"
His hand went limp.
Silence fell again, broken only by heavy breathing.
Ysira pressed a hand to her bleeding shoulder, staring at Kael with something new in her eyes — not just calculation. Realization. Maybe even a trace of fear.
Mira stepped over the bodies, voice ice-cold. "They were scouts. There will be more."
Sylva lowered her bow, looking at Kael like she was seeing him for the first time.
"They know about you," she whispered. "Not just the egg. You."
Kael looked at the three women, then at the dragon egg that had remained completely silent during the fight.
Its veins were glowing again. Very faintly.
As if it had enjoyed the violence.
As if it was learning who they really were.
Kael felt a chill that had nothing to do with the desert night.
"We're not hiding anymore," he said quietly. "We're already being hunted."