Manon's Child

Part 8

I lead the first few covens into the Witch-City a few hours later. I decide that we'll work from the inside of the city out, starting in that square. I order them to leave the rock where it is, as a final tribute to the ancient Crochans.

We work tirelessly all day, moving rubble and de-weeding the city. We try to stabilise it as much as possible, leaving standing structures intact. If a clumsy witch happened to knock I one over, I snap at them. I am irrationally tired, my temper even shorter than usual.

When night eventually falls, I lead the witches out of the ruined city. We have cleared most of the rubble away in the very centre of the city, but gliding over it on Abraxos' back, I realise we have actually covered very little. If we really want to get this done quickly, we're going to have to work much harder, and faster than we did today.

The camp now looks much more permanent, I realise, as I soar over it. They've set up a training arena, several smaller fire pits and eating areas, and a stable for the wyverns.

Abraxos and I land by said stables, and I take his saddle off, leaving him there to do his own thing. I don't need to tie him up. It's not like he's going to fly away - he's too loyal.

I am too exhausted to do much but eat as I sit around the fire. I ignore all conversation, yet again demolishing my food before standing and going back to my tent. I haven't said a word.

I change out of my leathers as soon as I get into the tent. Exhausted as I am, I think I'm going to fall asleep as soon as I collapse onto my bed, but I don't. Instead, I lie tossing and turning, until I drift off about midnight.