* * *
Klavon held the sword and practiced moves against an unseen foe. Splashes of moonlight illuminated the sharp blade and cast shadows across the floor. Suddenly he stopped—he saw her face in the shadows of his mind, a sad face full of sorrow. He reached out to her image, and she pulled back in tears.
“But you must understand. If he lives, he will hold your affections…not me,” said Klavon.
The image turned her back to him, her shoulders heaving with the weight of pain. Klavon stared at the figure until it vanished.
His desire had been to kill the boy. But Miora’s face haunted him…a face that could never love him—not with her son dead. With an obsession that had grown for fourteen years, Klavon could not risk it, and panic washed over him as he envisioned the boy’s death and her response. Over and over it played in his mind until he could stand it no longer.
Sira was smart, and even though she had her own motives—as ridiculous as they were—she may have been correct.
That night, as he tried to sleep, he dreamed of Miora, falling into deep despair at her son’s death. As Klavon reached for her to ease her pain, she fell into his arms…dead.
Klavon jerked awake and spent the rest of the night staring out the darkened window, across the mire toward Brandor.
The next morning, he summoned Sira back to his chamber, and she entered, her cat following close behind.
“I am glad you took care that,” he said, pointing to her neck. Sira only nodded. “And I am glad that you questioned me. Let us take a walk.”
Klavon motioned toward the door, and the two made their way out of the fortress and into the courtyard.
Fraenir circled above, and Klavon stopped to stare at him. “He is magnificent, and he will defeat Prydon, but the boy…”
Sira said nothing, skepticism shadowing her eyes as they scoured his face.
“I assure you, my anger has subsided. So you believe it is best that the boy not be killed…that he stand beside me.”
Sira stood tall and with conviction said, “I do.”
“You believe she will never be mine if the boy was to die.”
“I do.”
Klavon walked a little further into the courtyard and turned back to face her, nodding. “You have done nothing but serve my best interest. We will make it happen—the boy, here with me—and you will always have your place here. You know that, don’t you?”
Sira’s face brightened…slightly. “Thank you, sir. I will do all I can to ensure that happens for you.”
“It would be beneficial to both of us,” laughed Klavon, and he watched Sira’s expression closely to read if there was any disloyalty. He saw none. “We must test his strength, before he enters the Valley. I have a plan, but I need you to prepare my arsenal.”
Sira nodded, and Klavon called for Fraenir. The large dragon-beast landed so close that Sira and her cat had to jump back out of its way.
“Sira, go to my lab and begin. I will be there shortly,” said Klavon.
Sira passed Fraenir and slowed, glaring up at him. Her cat hissed bitterly and then followed his master, retreating into the castle. Klavon waited until the door was securely shut before he spoke to Fraenir.
“I want you to go to Mount Tyria,” said Klavon.
“Why?” Fraenir asked, his dragon eyes narrowing.
“There is a place there,” said Klavon. “I’m sure you have heard of it.”
“Yes,” replied Fraenir. “It is where wizard’s travel to collect their staff and sword.”
“It is where Segrath makes the dragon’s stone.” Klavon ran his hand across the stone at the end of his staff. It glowed a brilliant blood red. “While I am strong even without this, the dragon’s stone magnifies my power. I believe it could do the same for you.”
Fraenir growled. “I can kill hi—”
“You’ve had your chance!” snapped Klavon. “And you failed!” Klavon composed himself and walked up to Fraenir, placing his hand on his neck. “You are truly magnificent, but we cannot make the same mistake. I, as much as you, hate dragons, but we cannot underestimate their strength again.”
Fraenir roared flames into the air and across the ground. Klavon did not flinch. It was acceptable for Fraenir to vent his anger. In fact, it was preferred.
“Fraenir, there is no shame in this. The dragon’s stone only amplifies what you already are—and you are powerful. Can you imagine how much more you would be, though, with a dragon’s stone?”
Chapter Sixteen
The Shadow
Darius and the Dragon's Stone Page 20
