Zebulun, Davion, and Quinn slipped away under the cover of darkness and the remains of the fog. They rode all through the next day, not resting until they were well beyond the fuzzy Western boundary of the kingdom. Zebulun shot a rabbit. The trio roasted and devoured it, then collapsed of exhaustion.
Zebulun woke before dawn. Rest had replenished his reservoir of spiritual energy. He healed his wounds and went to Davion.
Davion jerked in his sleep and fought tremors, as if having night terrors. His skin was still blistered from the dragon’s imaginary fire. Zebulun knelt, placed his hands over Davion’s head and heart, and let the power flow. His blisters healed, his breathing slowed, the tremors stopped, and he opened his eyes.
He looked up at Zebulun and opened his mouth, as if to speak. Zebulun placed a finger to his lips, then slowly moved the finger to point. Davion followed the gesture to see Quinn sleeping with his arm draped over a strange canine, also asleep.
Davion whispered, "Is that a dog?"
Zebulun shook his head slowly, mirth in his eyes. "That’s a coyote."
Davion looked up at him with disbelief, looked over at Quinn, and stifled a laugh. "He really can make friends with anyone."
Quinn woke well after dawn. He sat up, yawned, and stretched. He looked down at the coyote and said, "Oh, yeah. I thought I dreamed that part."
"How did you wind up with a coyote?" asked Davion.
"I woke up in the middle of the night and went to take a leak," said Quinn. "When I came back, he was sniffing around the remains of our rabbit, so I fed him."
"Fed him what?" asked Davion. "We picked that rabbit clean."
"Yeah," said Quinn, "I had to pinch him off some bites from one of our bricks of chili."
Davion looked at Quinn. "You gave chili peppers to a coyote?" He looked down at the canine. "Is it dead?"
"He’s not dead," said Quinn. "He’s just drunk."
"You gave spirits to a coyote?" asked Davion.
"I gave him wine," said Quinn. "It didn’t take much. He’s a real lightweight."
"I’d say about thirty pounds," said Zebulun. He looked at Davion. "Feeling better?"
"Yes," said Davion. "Thank you. I feel sane again."
"What did that snake do to you?" asked Quinn.
"It’s hard to describe," said Davion. "He filled my mind with a overwhelming feeling of horror mixed with… something else. Sorrow? Pointlessness? For a time, I felt like it was pointless to do anything in life. To take any action. I kept thinking that we’re all just animals destined for the grave, and nothing mattered."
"Please understand," he said, "these are not things I normally think."
"Dragons can mess with your mind," said Zebulun. "It’s how they appear to transform into men. It’s how he could burn you with a fire that wasn’t there."
"Right," said Davion. "Now I’ve seen it for myself. And felt it."
"Me too!" said Quinn. "That place he sent me was ugly, just like him."
"What did you see?" asked Davion.
Quinn took on a sad countenance and said, "You don’t want to know."
"We should get moving," said Zebulun.
"What do we do about him?" asked Davion, indicating the coyote.
"He’ll be fine," said Zebulun, kneeling beside the canine. "I’ll give him a blessing to keep him safe."
They broke camp and rode west. The coyote woke two hours later with a mild headache, wondering why he couldn’t remember the night before.