Zebulun and companions said goodbye to Zan and his cowboys and rode northeast. It took seven days to reach the Rose River. They crossed where it was shallow and turned east, following its path.
Over twelve days, the gentle river became a torrent. It flowed through a gorge one hundred feet beneath them, the chasm that separated the kingdom from the wild north. They camped on a hill overlooking the great stone bridge that led across.
"That bridge looks to be an incredible feat of construction," said Davion. "I wonder who built it."
Amalek’s avatar appeared. "It looks cyclopean."
Davion looked to Amalek’s avatar in surprise. "Really? You know about cyclopes?"
"Oh, yes," said Amalek. "They were before my time, of course. I’m old, but I’m not one thousand years old. My kind saw them as a competitor, so we drove them out. We used your people as a proxy."
"So it is true," said Davion.
"I’m afraid so," said Amalek. "They were too sophisticated to make good livestock, so we dealt with them."
"Is it true that your people came here from another world, like the cyclopes?" asked Davion.
"I believe so," said Amalek, "Our scriptures speak of us as a race of conquerors who travel from world to world, devouring everything in our path. That said, I have never seen it. I don’t know how to get there. It could be myth."
"You have scriptures? As in, religion?" asked Davion.
"Of course!" said Amalek. "Not that many of us truly believe them, but every tribe needs a shared narrative to bind it in solidarity. We even have a special, esoteric religion just for the fair folk. They aren’t allowed to talk about it with outsiders."
"What kind of religion?" asked Davion.
"Oh, there’s plenty of pomp and ritual," said Amalek, "but the main gist of it is simple: be a good servant to the dragons, and you will be reborn as one of us. I doubt many of them believe it either, but they pretend to."
"That’s fascinating," said Davion.
Amalek smiled. "I thought you’d like it."
Davion sat up and looked around. "Where’s Quinn?"
"He’s over there," said Zebulun, and pointed. Quinn stood on the apex of the hill, staring north.
"He’s been there for some time," said Amalek. "I left him out of my side of the conversation; he seemed like he wanted to be alone."
"That’s not like him at all," said Davion.
Davion stood up, stretched, and walked over to where Quinn stood. He looked down at him. "Are you okay?"
Quinn looked up at him with sad eyes. "I never thought I would miss it."
"Miss what?"
"Home," said Quinn. "This is the closest I’ve been to home since I left. I crossed that very bridge down there to get away. I remember stopping, right in the middle, to take a deep breath. Once I crossed this bridge, I thought, it would be the end of my old life and the beginning of a grand new adventure. I kept going. I never even looked back."
"But now?" said Quinn. "After ten years? I feel something. A longing. For the people and places of my youth."
Davion put his hand on Quinn’s shoulder. "Sorry, Quinn. This is the furthest I’ve ever been from home."
Quinn gave him a soft smile. "You need to travel more."
"I think I’m getting my fill on this trip," said Davion.
Quinn smiled. "Let’s go back to the fire."