Olya had said that the dragon flew west. Lazarus had traveled the remaining night and was compelled to stay in a cave for the day. Even though he was dead tired, he couldn't sleep. He had asked Magnus and Olya to go back to the cabin because he was sure that no one had discovered the cabin.
The whole day inside the cave, he paced. Blood had caked over his tunic and trousers and face. Madness was taking over. In a frenzy, he punched the wall of the cave, sending debris flying around. He felt like he would lose himself if he didn't find Emma.
Lazarus was not the patient kind. He was not the unforgiving kind and her was certainly not the kind who liked if anyone took what belonged to him. As the time passed, his anger over Nephie grew to a mad rage. The dragon should have brought her back to him, instead it was nowhere to be seen.