by Kyle West
“Gods, we must be at least three miles off the ground!”
“Not quite that high,” Isaru said. “Whatever the case, I think that’s enough fun for one day.”
We glided down toward the canyon. Far below, the shapes of the circling dragons were incredibly small. It was hard to believe we had climbed so high.
“We’re going to be in trouble, now,” I said.
“It was my call,” Isaru said. “What can they do, send me to the Sanctum again?”
“They’ll find something. I’m sure of it.”
“It’s not like what we did was dangerous,” Isaru said. “We just wasted five minutes of their time.”
“Yeah, that’s not bad at all.”
“Any higher and we would have really been in trouble.”
“Why’s that?”
“The air gets thinner. It’s hard for dragons to fly that high, at least with riders.”
In time, we rejoined the rest of the procession. The Elders were casting Isaru disapproving gazes that said they would deal with him later. Meanwhile, Ret and Samal looked at us, amazed; Ret, probably because he was impressed, and Samal, probably because he thought we were crazy.
Once again, we were flying in a steady line over the canyon.
***
The sun sank lower in the sky, causing the canyon and rapids below to fall into shadow. The cliffs were still rough and sheer, but were perhaps a fifth of the height they had once been.
“It won’t be long, now,” Isaru said.
“We’re almost there?”
“No, but we should be stopping soon. It’s too far to make it in one trip unless you want to fall asleep in the saddle. A dangerous proposition when you’re flying.”
When the last of the light seemed to fail, Elder Arminius, who led the procession, pointed the nose of his Askaleen downward as the river widened into a long, narrow lake, in the center of which rose a jagged island. The dragons followed suit, and within a few minutes were setting down on the shore, one after the other. Isaru and I were the last to land.
As the Elders started a fire, the dragons wandered off to graze in a nearby field of xen. The Elders kept to themselves, preparing a big pot of stew. Isaru and I stood by the water, not really saying anything, while Samal and Ret made their way to our position. Ret sprawled on the river’s shoreline while Samal opted to skip a rock.
“So,” Ret said, breaking the silence. “We’re all going to the same place. We might as well become acquainted.”
“Maybe so,” Isaru said.
Samal gave a sideways smile. “Glad to know the young princeling will become acquainted with humble folk.”
“Well,” Isaru said. “I do make exceptions. Don’t ruin it.”
“You don’t talk much, do you?” Ret asked me.
“I talk,” I said. “Just not now.”
“Is it really true you’re from Colonia?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“How’d you end up here, then?”
“Isaru saved my life. They were going to throw me off Red Cliff. At the last second, though, Isaru and Jorla saved me, catching me as I fell.”
Ret whistled. “That’s some luck.”
“Not luck,” Isaru said. “It was all planned. Still, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little worried.”
“And now, you both find yourselves here,” Ret said.
“I’ve never heard of House Espar,” Isaru said. “Where is it?”
“We are a minor house,” Ret said. “Far enough north from Haven not to warrant much attention. We’re almost far enough not to be a part of Haven’s holdings at all, but we gain more benefit from inclusion than exclusion.”
“You’re Annajen?”
“House Espar considers itself as much,” Ret said. “Then again, we probably have more Wild blood in us than Godsblood.”
“I might be of more royalty than you, then,” Samal said, with a chuckle.
“Any Samalite could say that,” Ret said. “You don’t keep any records of descent.”
“I said might, Annajen,” Samal said. “Do you not understand the significance of that word?”
“Prickly,” Ret said, with a half-smile. He turned to me. “You’re from Colonia, but obviously of Elekai blood. Are you Annajen as well?”
“I don’t know what I am,” I said. “I guess I’m still trying to figure that out.”
“You’re from Colonia, and you can talk to dragons,” Samal said. “Or so they say.”
“I guess,” I said.
“She guesses,” Samal said, chuckling. “Well, I can’t say I envy you. Dragons can be cunning, and they always have their price.”
“What do you know about dragons?” Ret asked.
“More than you might think, Lord Ret,” Samal said. It may have just been me, but he seemed to lend a mocking tone to the word lord. “My grandfather lived in the North, and they ride Wild Dragons up there.”
Ret laughed. “Yeah, right. And I’m Elekim’s uncle.”
“It’s true,” Samal said. “He even saw an Elder Dragon. Askal, was his name.”
“Your grandfather, who rides Wild Dragons, also saw Askal, the King of the Dragons?” Ret’s eyebrows shot up in amusement. “How was it you got selected to become a Seeker?”
“That should be obvious,” Samal said. “The Godsblood is strong in many Samalites. Stronger than in other tribes, anyway.”
“The Annajen have strong blood, too,” Ret said. “That’s what I think Shanti is.”
“How would you know that?” Samal asked. “For all you know, she’s a Samalite, like me.”
“She’s not ugly enough to be a Samalite.”
Everyone laughed at that one, with the exception of Samal.
“We’re strong and brave,” Samal said. “We’re the only ones with the mettle to live in the Northern Wild.”
“Why don’t you, then?” Isaru asked.
“My grandparents moved to Haven long before I was born,” Samal said. “And more move south every year. As soon as no one lives there...you’ll know.”
“Know what?” Ret asked.
“Who do you think keeps the reversions in check?” Samal paused. “The Samalites do. The Northerners fight and bleed to keep the rest of the Wild safe, with little to no help from the other Tribes.” He glanced over to the Elders. “Add the Seekers to that list.”
Everyone went quiet at that. Apparently, what Samal was talking about was well-known among the Elekai, but it was all new to me.
“Do the Samalites have to fight a lot of Mindless dragons?” I asked.
“Like I said, they try to prevent that before it happens, but sometimes, it’s too late. Another village lost to Blight here, too many Mindless raids there...as every year passes, we get pushed further and further south. How far will it go before others take notice?”
“I’m sure the Seekers help more than you say,” Ret said. “The Sages are the strongest Agronomists in the Wild.”
“Are they, now?” Samal asked. “Well, if that’s true, then it’s not enough.”
A long silence passed. All that remained of the day was a golden glow in the west, which in the next few minutes would fade to darkness.
“I doubt I’ll even last a year at the Sanctum,” Ret said. “Many initiates don’t even last a month.”
“I’ll last,” Samal said, with a nod. “I have no choice. It’s either that or back to the fields for me. I know which I’d rather be doing.”
Everyone was quiet. Ret just stared ahead, his eyes focusing on the river. His eyes narrowed, as if trying to make something out. “You see that?”
I followed his finger. There did seem to be something floating in the river.
“It’s just a log,” Samal said.
“No. It’s something else.”
At first glance, it did seem like a log, but its angles were sharper, almost unnatural. The color wasn’t the same silvery white of the Red Wild’s tree trunks, but rather a dark, yet glinting, ebony.
When a strange thumping came from behind, I turned to see the grazing dragons shifting back and forth, their white eyes looking toward the river. The thumping was coming from their tails nervously twitching and beating against the ground. The Elders looked from their fire at them.
“That thing is making them nervous,” I said. “Whatever it is.”
One of the Elders – Arminius, I believed – walked toward the dragons. Eldress Karu motioned us to come join them by the fire.
While Ret, Samal, and I turned to go, Isaru continued staring at the river. Although the river’s flow should have carried the thing further downstream, it seemed to be stuck in place.
“Isaru,” I said. “Come on.”
As if broken from a trance, we both walked toward the Elders’ fire.
“What is it?” Samal asked the Elders upon our arrival.
None of the Elders spoke. Every single eye, dragon or human, was on the river.
“It must have been carried downstream,” Isandru said, at last.
“Have you ever seen one this far south, Elder Prophet?” Elder Tellor asked.
Isandru was quiet for a long while. He was either thinking, or didn’t quite know what to say.
“What is it?” Samal asked.
“Quiet,” Elder Tellor growled. I noticed that his hand was on the hilt of his sword.
Samal did fall quiet. Now, it was dark enough that the thing, whatever it had been, was lost to the night.
“Do we move on?” Elder Aurelius asked.
“We must,” Isandru said. “The dragons won’t stay if they fear more might be around – be they dead or not.”
I almost broke my silence because my curiosity was so great. It took all the restraint in the world not to ask what had the dragons so spooked.
“We’ll make a quick meal, then,” Elder Arminius said, at last. “Then we move on.”
We ate the stew quickly, not taking the time to let it cool. As I ate, I tried to catch Elder Isandru’s eyes, but his own were fixed on the fire, deep in thought. I saw that I was not the only one who looked to him; apparently, he knew things that even Chief Elder Arminius and the others didn’t know.
After everyone had eaten, Arminius spoke.
“Be mounted and ready in five minutes.”
The Elders packed their items while Elder Judge Lian spread the ashes. Everyone was ready within the prescribed five minutes.
The dragons took flight with eagerness, and the large island with the massive rock formation fell away. The only remnant of the day was a golden edge along the western horizon. Within minutes, this too was gone, to be replaced by a canopy of shining stars.
“Do you know what it was?” I asked Isaru.
“I have a suspicion,” he said, quietly. “It didn’t seem to be alive, but it might have been a Mindless.”
“That thing was a dragon?”
“No,” Isaru said. “Dragons are just one of the few things that can be Mindless. This was a creature of reversion. In essence, a monster, like the kind the Elekai fought during the Third Century that nearly overwhelmed us. They still exist, of course, but not this far south.”
“What was it, though?”
“It was too far to tell exactly,” Isaru said. “But if I had to guess, by its size, it was a common creature of reversion, known as a crawler.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
WE FLEW LONG INTO THE night, the moon and stars changing their positions across the sky. My eyes grew heavy, and it was an effort to stay awake. I had grown comfortable in the saddle – too comfortable, perhaps.
By the time the moon was over our heads, we were descending into a narrow rending in the ground, until we were flying above a stream strewn silver in the night.
“The Silverstream,” Isaru said. “We’re nearly there.”
Across the narrow stream rose a rock arch wrapped in glowing xen. I scarcely had time to stare at its beauty – each dragon, one after the other, swooped right over it, rising far above the stream to come in sight of a large, dark mountain rising in the distance.
“There it is,” Isaru said. “Nava Mountain.”
It wasn’t as tall as I’d imagined, but was still wide with a flattened top, like a mesa. Even in the night, though, I could see that it was thickly covered with vegetation.
As we approached, we flew over a small village of two dozen or so huts, rising in the night on a plain of xen. The Silverstream flowed north of it in a gulley, while to its south spread a wide field of xen, broken by a thick line of trees. There were no lights or fires from the village, though the line of a trail could be discerned heading east, snaking back and forth up the mountainside. About a quarter of the way up was a large building complex, surrounded with a high wall and guard towers, its features otherwise masked by the night. Several tall trees grew behind those walls, their bark and boughs glowing in the distance.
“Is that it?” I asked.
“Yes,” Isaru said. “The Seekers’ Sanctum.”
***
We set down not long after at the foot of Nava Mountain, to the east of the village. We just stood there a minute, and I wasn’t really sure why, but in time, that was answered. From the direction of the village came ten or so men, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. They spoke to the Elders in deferential tones, and it took me a moment to realize that they were going to be the ones to stable the dragons.
“Where do they keep them?” I asked.
“They have a pen, north of their village,” Isaru said.
“They won’t fly away?”
Isaru shook his head. “They do nothing unless they’re prompted to.”
I could hardly believe that answer. “They truly have no will, then.”
“They will eat, and they will drink, but escape is the last thing on their minds. Indeed, they might not even be capable of thinking about it.”
The villagers led the dragons away by pulling at the straps of their saddles, and the Askaleen followed obediently, even if they could have easily overpowered those who led them.
We four initiates were left alone with the Elders, and silently, we followed as they made their way up the path toward the Sanctum.
The terrain surrounding the mountain was much different than anywhere else in the Red Wild. After just a minute of our following the ascending trail, the xen petered out to be replaced by red rocks and sand with only small patches of xen. The mountain rose ahead, a large shadow in the night, and from it a breeze blew, smelling crisply of forest and vegetation.
“The Red Wild doesn’t touch it,” I said.
“The Sages keep the xen clear of the mountain,” Elder Tellor said, who was walking beside me. “Any xen grows in the Seekers’ Grove surrounding the Sanctum, under the direction of the Sages.”
After a mile or so, we had reached the top of the hill the path was climbing. A stone arch bridge spanned a chasm, beneath which the Silverstream flowed hundreds of feet below. Across that chasm was the Sanctum, built against the side of the mountain. Its lofty walls hid the building from view, making the shape of a half hexagon; the ends of the wall joined the sheer cliff of the mountainside. The mountain rose above it, its flat top making a line against the starry sky.
No one said anything as we crossed the bridge. The stream rushed below, the only sound in the night save for the wind. We stopped before the wall’s thick wooden gates, which were opened with a groan and a clink of chains. As they opened, the Seekers’ Grove inside was revealed.
The stone path leading through it was lined with old trees, growing from both soil and large spreads of xen. The aroma of nature was thick and wild, but at the same time, there was some sense of control, as if every plant was obeying an internal law. There were towering trees, fields of flowers, and clumps of stalks with mushroom tops growing from the xen. Natural and Wild coexisted in peace, and the Grove seemed to be a perfect blend of the two.
Some of the trees were quite large, smaller versions of what might have been the Haven tree, ri
sing high into the night. Others were kinds I recognized: oaks, ashes, elms, and others I had seen growing in Colonia’s parks.
As we walked on, the Grove’s scale became more apparent. It didn’t seem from the outside that there was much space between the outer walls and the mountainside itself. From the trees emanated an ethereal, silver glow, and patches of xen took up about half of the forest floor, while the other half was devoted to thick grass, flowers, and rocks. One could explore the Grove for hours and not uncover all it contained.
The trees overhung the path, but the glowing of the plants provided ample light by which to see. We followed the path for a minute or two until it widened into a stone-paved square, at the end of which the Seekers’ Sanctum rose.
The immense building was intricately composed of gray stone, and had two floors. Tall, arched windows lined both floors, and all of them were dark. Wide stone steps made their way to a pair of large wooden doors, ornately carved. The building had an aged appearance – it had been here for years, perhaps even centuries. Four plain cylindrical columns rose on either side of the steps, supporting a massive awning which overhung the steps. The building had two wings, supporting the Sanctum’s most striking feature: two domes, one on either end, eastern and western. A high, vaulted ceiling, as tall as either dome, rose from the center, and rising above it all was a bell tower.
We followed the Elders up the steps, Tellor opening the massive doors. We passed the threshold, finding ourselves inside a wide hall illuminated by a number of blazing torches. The dancing light did little to illumine the wide space. A series of long tables and benches filled the space ahead, and along the far wall was a high stone dais upon which another table rested. This would have been the main gathering place for the Seekers, and was probably where they took their meals.
“I will take the initiates to their quarters,” Elder Isandru said. “The rest of you can go to sleep.”
“No need, Elder Prophet.”
A tall, lanky young man had entered the hall from the eastern wing, and was now giving a slight bow.
