Wings of Flame (The Dragons of Ascavar Book 5)

by JD Monroe

  Velati shook his head. “I was just checking on him.” She sighed with relief and crouched next to him, carefully placing her things on the ground. Before she could start working, Velati brushed her shoulder. “Let me see your eyes.”

  She looked up at him, meeting his cold gaze. He reached out like he was going to touch her face, then hesitated, instead gesturing with his index finger for her to turn back and forth. She did, letting him inspect her eyes.

  “Better,” he said. “We’re leaving soon. Can you get his back stable enough that it won’t hurt him too much to be carried? I want you to save your energy in case something happens.”

  She nodded. “I won’t have to do much.”

  “Do you need my help?”

  “If you want,” she said.

  “Just tell me what to do.”

  “That would be a change,” she said mildly. He just smirked.

  She touched Romek’s back, investigating the worst of the damage. His spine felt stable after her initial treatment last night. Brushing past Velati, she ran her fingernails down the back of Romek’s knee, then to the sole of his foot. She pinched hard between his toes. His foot jerked, nearly kicking her in the process. Chuckling to herself, she repeated the process on his other foot. When his other foot twitched, she heard a grumble of complaint.

  “Hey, don’t move,” Velati said. “You’re fine.”

  Sohaila picked up a piece of rock and pressed the sharp end into the sole of Romek’s foot. “Can you feel this, Romek?”

  “Yes,” he slurred. “Can I—”

  He started to push himself up, but Velati pinned his shoulders to the ground. “Don’t move yet.”

  “I’m going to work on you a little more,” Sohaila said. She knelt in front of Romek. His eyes pleaded silently with her. “If you felt that pain in your foot, then your legs are going to be fine. Please don’t worry about it and just relax.”

  He let out a heavy sigh. “Thank you.”

  She focused a thin thread of energy to fuse the shattered vertebrae, then guided them back into place. He would need more attention to knit together the muscles and ligaments that had been injured, but this was progress. She rubbed more orveran into his skin to numb the pain. With Velati’s help, she braced several flat pieces of wood against his spine and belly, then wrapped them tight to immobilize his back.

  Another dose of dreamsleep put Romek back into a pleasant haze. Velati helped her carry the supplies back to her crates for storage. As she carefully wrapped the basin in a cloth and repacked it, he asked, “You didn’t heal him completely. Why?”

  She sighed. “It would take everything I have right now,” she said. “If I’m going to help you, then I have to be smarter about how I use my power.” She took a deep breath, hating the words that were about to escape her lips. “You were right. I went too far last night.”

  His lips curved faintly, but he didn’t go for the easy I told you so. “One of the old Lightweavers, Irazia Mara, is still in Adamantine Rise. I’m sure she’d be happy to share some secrets if you’re interested.”

  Eager excitement thrummed through her. “If you’ll introduce me, I’d be very glad to learn from her,” Sohaila said.

  Velati nodded to her. “Good. I’ll make sure you two meet.” He scanned the camp. “We leave as soon as everyone is ready. I want you to ride with Virnan today rather than with me. I don’t think we’ve been spotted, but if something happens, he can get you away and keep you hidden.”

  “I don’t—” His brows arched in a silent warning. She clamped her lips shut. “I understand.”

  An hour later, they were in the air, headed northeast. As they rose from the ravine, one of the dyads split away from the formation. Thaleza and her rider turned northwest, then faded behind a shimmering shield. Sohaila watched over her shoulder, heart pounding as the ruined city receded behind her. They hadn’t told her much of what the scouts had seen, but she was no fool.

  Sidran was there. He was so close. Ayla was close, and there was nothing she could do for her.

  She gripped Virnan’s neck tightly, anticipating the sudden rise of dragons from the city to give chase. Silhouettes circled over the ruins, but none flew their way. She kept watching, craning her neck until the ruins disappeared into the gray expanse.

  The pink-orange of early morning gave way to a harsh, bright sky. The cracked gray of Ifrahl soon faded into the darker stone of the Stoneflight lands. Here and there, small settlements dotted the broken landscape. Hours later, the jagged ridge of the Azure Peaks came into view, like sharp teeth along the horizon. The first hint of sunset blazed across the sky as she spotted the massive citadel of Adamantine Rise, nestled into the mountains.

  Sohaila was born of the Ironflight, who never doubted that they were the greatest and proudest of all dragons. Nalak halar anan, they would proclaim. Chosen by the flames. Though she had not seen her home in fifty years, she would never lose that pride.

  But she could not deny the majesty of Adamantine Rise, a stone citadel that emerged from the mountains as if it had always been here and the world itself had formed around it. This had once been the throne of High Empress Rezharani, and as legend had it, the place where the Skymother herself had fallen before ascending to the heavens.

  Dragons circled in the skies above the city and in the mountains beyond. Walkways and windows were carved into the surrounding mountains, and there was the distant flicker of small figures traveling the paths. Farath sat on a gentle slope, with tiers that climbed up to the base of the citadel like massive stairs. A wide road curved through the city, snaking up the slope in a series of tight turns until it reached a long drawbridge to the fortress.

  Ahead of her in the formation, a dyad broke away, flying hard for the citadel. On the roof of the citadel, reflective stone marked a landing beacon. Weapons glinted in the low light as the Adamant Guard patrolled the area. Diora was already on the ground, pacing while her rider, Marad, spoke to the guards.

  Soon, the rest of the formation landed on the platform. Virnan landed gently, then quickly sidestepped to let someone else land behind him. He rumbled as he pressed himself low to the ground, letting her slide off. Her wobbly legs nearly buckled, and she braced herself against his side to balance. Just behind them, Enalah set down her crates with a heavy clunk, then stepped out of the way to transform.

  Virnan knelt on the stone, breathing hard as he finished shifting. Her body ached, but he had to be exhausted after three days of hard flying. She rested a hand on his back, slick with sweat. “Can I help?”

  “I’ll be fine,” he murmured. She handed him clothing from her pack. As he dressed, she grasped his forearm. A brief moment of connection revealed knots of pain and tension all through his body. A pang of guilt stabbed into her gut.

  “I’ll need those taken to my quarters as soon as possible,” she said, pointing to her crates with her other hand. As she gave her orders, she released an intense burst of healing energy into Virnan. His eyes closed as relief washed the tension from his face.

  “Yes, sister,” he said. He pulled away, giving her a faint smile before going to help Enalah with the crates.

  Across the landing platform, Kaldir was stretching in an impressive display of shifting muscle. He pulled on a formal red uniform coat, then raked his fingers through his tousled hair. As he fastened the toggles on the coat, he looked up, like he’d felt her gaze on him. His brow furrowed, though a flicker of a smile passed over his lips.

  With an army of the Chosen a day’s flight to the west, wounded comrades, and the general chaos sweeping across the continent, it was the absolute worst time to be thinking about Kaldir and his flawless ass.

  And here she was. A sister of the Marashti, bold enough to demand one of the Arik’tazhan take her along as his personal healer, completely consumed with the infatuations of a foolish young girl. She closed her eyes, praying silently in the confines of her addled mind. Skymother, please forgive me. Focus my gaze…away from him.

 
While the Scalebreakers awaited orders, Sohaila was escorted into the citadel by two Shrine Wardens. Beyond the landing platform was a small chamber, with three interior doors. Silver plates were mounted next to the stone arches. One of the Wardens, Halzin, placed her palm against the plate, which ignited with faint purple light.

  The doors slid open to a small lift. Sohaila silently thanked the Skymother that she didn’t have to walk downstairs on her shaky legs. Inside the metal carriage was an array of metal plates. Halzin touched one of them, then turned to smile at Sohaila as the doors closed. The carriage descended with a quiet hum, vibrating slightly under her feet. The lift ground to a halt.

  Metal doors slid open again, and she was buffeted by the overwhelming smell of leafy growth and a hundred different flowers. Her whole body warmed, with a prickling sensation in her limbs like she was regaining circulation.

  “The gardens,” she murmured. The Healing Gardens of Farath were legendary, one of the holiest places in existence. The lift opened onto a short hallway that sloped gently toward a large stone archway.

  Beyond the stone arch was an explosion of life. Calling it a garden seemed insulting, like calling the ocean a puddle. Heavy-laden trees bowed over looping stone walkways, their ropy green vines twisting across the open space. Fat blooms of pink and purple peeked through the foliage like hidden gems. And rising from them were massive stone pillars, inlaid with silver that glowed faintly with an internal light. Curving stone walls surrounded the garden, sloping gently up to a huge skylight that let in the faint glow of dusklight.

  Forgetting all protocol, she broke into a quick walk, then an all-out run to the closest pillar. Feet scuffed behind her as Virnan chased her, determined to stay close. A small patio of smooth stone surrounded the pillar. She extended her hand, then hesitated. She looked back at Halzin, her voice shaking. “Am I allowed to touch it?”

  The woman smiled indulgently. “Of course,” she said. “This place belongs to you more than anyone.”

  The pillars were the Avekh dar Isina, the Bones of the Skymother. Legend had it that the Skymother’s body fell here, and that the incredible gardens grew as a result of her body returning to the earth. Nine stone pillars arranged in a circle commemorated the holy place. Supposedly, it was her love for her children that permeated the air, bringing healing and peace back to their broken bodies.

  Her nails were filthy, stained by shreds of herbs from her treatment this morning. She hastily scrubbed them clean on her cloak, then reached for the pillar. Thick veins of silver twined around the pillar, gleaming faintly. The smooth stone sent a warm, pulsing current into her body.

  The pillar’s energy nearly overwhelmed her. It was the relief she felt when she saw the pain leave a patient’s face, the bliss of lying down after a hard day’s work, the warmth of wine in her belly and gentle hands on her skin, even the subtle warmth of arousal in a lover’s arms. Every cell of her body was suffused with warmth and pleasure.

  The Skymother was here. Her essence whispered in the air, grew in the earth, and radiated from the stone. Sohaila stared up in wonder, tracing one of the fine silver veins.

  I feel you here. Please guide me, she prayed, still staring up at the sky. Her throat closed around a lump of emotion. All that she had experienced had brought her to this place. Please help me to have more wisdom than ego. Help me be strong enough and smart enough to help them. I will use the gifts you give me.

  Virnan stepped next to her. “Are you all right?”

  A tear trickled down her cheek. “Yes, I’m fine.” She squeezed her eyes shut, reluctantly pulling away from the pillar. “My apologies for the delay.”

  Halzin simply shook her head. “There’s no need to apologize,” she said. “I’m told the Marashti feel a very intense connection here. Your quarters are just below the gardens, so you’ll be able to spend time here if you like. Many of the sisters meditate out here for hours.”

  Her heart soared at the suggestion. “Thank you.”

  Halzin led them on a winding path through the garden, until they found a raised pavilion built around one of the Bones. Its sculpted white roof wrapped around the stone pillar like the petals of a flower. Gauzy blue and white silks hung from the archway. The familiar scents of medicinal herbs and incense drifted on the breeze. Several well-armed guards stood at the entrance to the pavilion, but parted as Halzin entered.

  “Sister,” they both greeted, bowing to Sohaila.

  Though she came from the same training, had the clothing, and even the ornately braided hair, Sohaila felt like an outsider as she walked up the steps and into the healer’s pavilion. She felt like she had when she first arrived at the Shrine of Mara, ready to present herself as a novice.

  An older woman stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in light gray clothing. Her silver hair was braided and adorned with blue gems. Her tattooed brow creased with a smile as she greeted Sohaila. “Sister Sohaila,” she said.

  Sohaila bowed politely. “I present myself as a sister of Mara, servant of the divine. It is my pleasure to serve as I am needed here.”

  “You are most welcome here, sister,” the woman said. “May our minds come to know the same love our spirits already share.” Even her blessings were perfectly worded. Intimidated, Sohaila straightened and slowly raised her eyes. “My name is Behla Mara. I am the head healer here.” It was strange to see her in gray clothing, instead of the familiar blue.

  “It is my pleasure,” Sohaila said. “Can I help you with anything?”

  “So eager,” Behla said with a smile. She gestured broadly around the room. “I’m afraid to tell you, we have our work cut out for us. These Chosen and their white dragons have posed many challenges.”

  “I have some experience in dealing with the white dragons, as well as those left behind,” Sohaila said. “I would be happy to discuss that with you.”

  Behla nodded. “I received word from Mother Akshas that you had some knowledge in that realm. But for now, you should rest. We will meet in the morning after prayers. Until then, go with the Mother’s blessing and rest well.”

  The apartment was smaller than the one she had kept at the Shrine, but it was nicely appointed, with a dark blue quilt on the small bed, and polished wood furnishings. An interior door led from the small bedroom into a larger workshop, which was furnished with an empty bookshelf, several worktables, and a small hearth.

  With help from the other Wardens, Enalah and Virnan wrestled her large crates inside. “Would you like us to unpack them for you?” Enalah asked. Despite her eagerness, the woman was unsteady on her feet, her cheeks flushed with exertion.

  She shook her head. “No, thank you,” she said. “You’ve both done more than enough to help me for a few days. I truly appreciate your devotion.” Enalah beamed, bowing her head slightly.

  Halzin gestured broadly to the Shrine Wardens. “These quarters are for the Marashti,” she said. “I’ll show you to your quarters in the barracks.”

  Virnan’s shoulders lifted slightly. “I would rather be close to Sister Sohaila.”

  “I will speak with Captain Navan to find out what can be done,” Halzin said. “Until then, please know that the gardens and the healing pavilion are heavily guarded.”

  “I am not a palace guard assigned wherever I am needed. I swore a sacred oath to serve the Marashti,” he said archly. “Sister Sohaila is my responsibility.”

  Halzin raised an eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest. “I swore the same oath, my friend,” she said. Her lips curved into a faint smile. “At the Shrine, you are not at arm’s length of Sister Sohaila all the time, correct? Unless you have learned how to live without sleeping or eating, of course.”

  He sighed. “No,” he admitted.

  “I appreciate your devotion,” Halzin said gently. “There are half a dozen Shrine Wardens here, and we all take our duty seriously. The queen herself trusts me with the safety of Behla Mara. You can trust me, too.”

  Virnan’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t mea
n to insult your honor. My apologies.”

  “None needed,” Halzin said. “Come along.”

  Virnan and Enalah followed the woman out of the chamber, leaving Sohaila alone for the first time in days. She let out a heavy sigh, surveying the room. Even in the stone-walled bedroom, she felt the current of warm energy from the gardens. As she focused on it, breathing deep, she felt a pleasant tingle in her chest, spreading into her muscles and loosening them.

  The energy here reminded her of the Sacred Well, the hidden heart of the Shrine where the Marashti made their final transformation. There, the power was almost too intense to withstand for more than a few minutes. This felt like a muted, gentler form of it, like hearing a distant echo. She could bask in this for hours.

  Sohaila sat on the edge of the bed and pried off her soft leather boots. With a sigh of relief, she flopped back and stretched. The mattress was a bit hard, but it felt like a queen’s luxurious silks after sleeping on the hard rock last night. She would just catch her breath a bit, then go explore the gardens.

  A sharp knock startled her, and she sat bolt upright. As her body went on high alert, she realized she’d fallen asleep. Her eyes were dry, but she felt relaxed and pleasantly achy, like someone had been massaging her while she slept. She hurried to the door. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Kaldir,” he said. “Uh, General Dawnblaze.”

  Her heart stopped. She opened the door just a few inches. Through the crack, she could only see deep crimson fabric and the edge of his stubbled jaw. “Do you need something? Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to talk to you.” He paused, drawing a deep breath. “Will you let me in, please?”

  She checked her veil, then slowly pulled the door open for him. Nervous anticipation immediately tightened her muscles, overwhelming the pleasant haziness of her nap. He held a large covered dish. The smell of Kaldir combined with the savory spice of a hot meal was irresistible.