Quintus had lied. He hadn't been lost in his thoughts, he'd been lost in his pain. The moment they'd reached the outskirts of Hutton, the sensation had hit him, like needles under his skin. And now, as they climbed the incline on the outskirts of the village, the feeling intensified.
A constant wind blew off the ocean and the sound of waves crashing against the cliff side filled the air. Under normal circumstances, Quintus would've enjoyed being this close to the ocean. But he hadn't felt this awful since the night of the Calamity.
To think earlier today, he'd considered sticking around for a while after he toppled the cathedral. Maybe to hang out with Gavrael more. God, he was such a mess, in too deep, drowning. But his decision was clear now. He needed to get out of here, forget the hang ups and unresolved feelings he had with Gavrael. When Avaly was reduced to nothing, he needed to be long gone.
"It's just up here." Cantrelle led them to the top of the incline where several standing stones stood in a neat circle.
Their tops were adorned with rings of various sizes and the bases held wood spokes jutting from their sides. The wind passing through them hummed a constant drone laced with the vibration of necromancy. Flanking them were several tree-like wooden structures with tinkling wind chimes hanging from their faux branches.
Cantrelle pointed out to the open ocean to the east, and Quintus' heart nigh stopped. Miles away, a dark purple cloud hung close to the water like fog, its tufts churning and turning over like it was alive.
"What is that?" Gavrael asked, his voice quivering. He looked at Cantrelle, then Quintus. "What in damnation is that?!"
Cantrelle shrugged. "I was hoping he could tell me. I've never seen anything like it, but it gives me a terrible feeling."
"It's a bone dragon." Quintus said, his eyes never leaving the cloud. He knew they were around, saw the aftermath of their destruction many times over, but hadn't seen one, or signs of one, since the night of the Calamity.
"A bone dragon?" Cantrelle and Gavrael repeated in unison.
Quintus sighed. "It's a netherborne, but not like the ones you're used to. It's a silent killer. You see that purple cloud? It's spores. Inhale it and it infects you with the blight from within."
Cantrelle swore under her breath, while Gavrael looked as though he were about to fall over. He propped himself up against one of the stone pillars and rested his forehead on his clasped hands.
"What can I do, Quintus?" Gavrael asked. "Please, if there were any time to offer your council, it's now."
He looked away, the desperation and fear in Gavrael's eyes cutting into him like a hot knife. "There isn't much you can do, I'm afraid. Do you remember that abandoned city you woke up in? That thing is what happened to it. The best advice I can give you is to evacuate the country. Or it'll look a lot like that one by the end of the year."
"The entire country? And go where?" His voice rose an octave with every word.
"Anywhere that's not here." Quintus turned away and started down the incline, but stopped when Gavrael grabbed his arm.
"Quintus, please," he begged. "Whatever you want, it's yours. A thousand barrels of ale, more gold than you can carry. Just please."
Quintus curled his hands into fists, the pity nigh crippling him. "There's nothing I can do, Gav. My necromancy is strong, but not strong enough for that. Round your people up and get them out of here."
Gavrael's hand fell away.
"Quintus," Cantrelle said. "I heard from good authority that you keep company with the Night-Blooming Rose. Your necromancy may not be strong enough, but surely, hers is."
It was. Octavia was a veritable army all on her own. "A bone dragon would be nothing for Octavia, but I'm not sure if she's still in Tandridge or if she can make it here in time."
"There is a way for you to contact her, though, isn't there?" Cantrelle reached up to adjust one of the wind chimes. "I thought you and the other ambassadors were responsible for mitigating these kinds of threats. I know you may think this place isn't worth saving. Heck, I'm sure there are people at the archives who'd rejoice at Avaly's demise. But it's the last major city left in this region. If it falls, everything else will."
Quintus wanted to fuss, wanted to scream. They didn't need Avaly. They had Tandridge and Eldania, more than enough to keep the netherborne at bay. If this side of the continent fell, then... too bad.
And yet.
And yet.
The thought made his stomach turn. They didn't need Avaly, but having it would provide a significant advantage, and piss off the Divine City to boot. But he needed to approach this carefully. His colleagues would be hesitant, if not outright aloof when it came to dealing with the Forbidden City. Octavia would have to deal with this. He lacked the patience and decorum for politics.
"Fine," Quintus conceded with a sigh. "On one condition."
"Anything." Gavrael said a little too quickly.
"If and when the bone dragon is dealt with, you will work with Octavia to turn Avaly into a haven city."
He frowned. "I'm not sure what that is."
"It's the opposite of what Avaly is now," Cantrelle explained. "It will involve making Avaly a safe place for necromancers to travel through and live in and allying yourself with the higher ups at the Necromancy archives. You have your work cut out for you, your Majesty."
Gavrael pressed his lips together in a thin line, looked back at the bone dragon, and sighed. "Very well. I'll do it. Whatever it takes."