With their course set, Mark and his wives set off toward the mountain where the dragon had gone to seek shelter.
They traveled on foot, first crossing the open plain, then pushing into a wooded stretch that spread out at the mountain's base.
The terrain was uneven, and the morning sun beat down hard, but none of them complained much, at least not at first.
"Master," Aria said after a while, brushing a sweaty strand of hair off her forehead. "Are you sure walking is really the best option here?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean we could've asked the druid to bring us," she replied, gesturing vaguely behind them. "We'd have gotten there in a fraction of the time."
"I know," Mark admitted with a shrug.
"Then why—"
"Because flying would've made us stand out way too much," Mark explained, glancing over at her. "The sky is a dragon's natural territory. If we'd flown in, it would've spotted us long before we ever got close."
He shook his head.
