When Dragons Die- The Complete Trilogy Box Set

by K. Scott Lewis

  Odoune and Suleima came that evening. Suleima’s belly was swollen with their child. The two trolls were ecstatic, and Oriand felt happy for them.

  Aradma came, holding her baby daughter, only three months old. Oriand had never asked her who the father was, but she could guess. Meara was born blind in one eye, but the other seemed to focus so clearly on things.

  After dinner, Suleima held Meara, and Odoune chatted with Eszhira and Yinkle. Attaris cursed over the chessboard as Cory Piper beat him yet again.

  “You old rat,” Attaris muttered affectionately. “You can’t always win.”

  “I can, and I will,” the ratling responded with a grin.

  Oriand stayed back in the kitchen, washing dishes in the copper sink. She never liked to leave things until morning.

  Her dark blue hands plunged into the warm water beneath the soapsuds, scrubbing grease away from pots and pans with the soft sponge. She heard the laughter and conversation in the other room and smiled.

  “Do you need help?” Aradma asked from the doorway.

  “No, I’m fine,” Oriand said. “Relax with your friends.”

  Aradma came in beside her, grabbed a towel, and started drying the clean dishes. “I am with my friends,” she said. She bumped her hip playfully against Oriand.

  The former Matriarch grinned. “Here we are, after all this time,” she said.

  “Yes,” Aradma agreed, wiping the dishes.

  “Have you heard from Anuit or Arda?” Oriand asked.

  “Arda’s taken Taer Iriliandrel,” Aradma said. “She intends to revive the Kaldorite order. Anuit is Queen of Dis, but she lives with Arda, of course.”

  “Darkness and Light together,” Oriand grinned. “In love with each other. It’s probably a good place for Ahmbren to be right now.”

  Aradma smiled. “Yes,” she agreed. Then: “Oriand, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

  “Yes?” prompted the former Matriarch.

  “You know I will live a long time,” Aradma said.

  Oriand took her hands out of the water and dried them. The dark blue of her fingers were pruned. “Yes,” Oriand said. “And being one of the seals, who knows how long? We don’t know yet the lifespan of seelie, and I suspect yours will be even longer. Far longer.”

  “Yes, well,” Aradma said. Then: “You know who Meara’s father is, don’t you?”

  Oriand smiled. “I have my suspicions. You chose an old Hammerfoldian name. You know what it means, don’t you?”

  “Of course,” Aradma replied. “Joyful.”

  Oriand raised an eyebrow and allowed a smile to tug at her lips. “Tiberan is her father.”

  Aradma blushed. “Yes.”

  Aradma paused for a moment. She glanced behind her into the hallway, and then took a step farther into the kitchen. “I’ve not spoken of this to anyone else,” Aradma confided in a low voice.

  Oriand’s hands stopped moving over the plate. She looked up from the kitchen work and met Aradma’s eyes. She remembered the first time Aradma had come to her in Vemnai, new to the world and dangerously innocent. Oriand’s heart thudded for a moment, remembering the desire she felt that day, amplified by religious fervor. That same quickening of love returned, but this time it wasn’t born out of lust or superstition, but of knowing Aradma now for who she was, her values, and what she stood for. The beauty Oriand saw was no longer physical, but emotional. Intellectual. The intimacy of trust Aradma showed now made Oriand’s blood race.

  “Tiberan was the Stag Throne,” Aradma said softly. Her eyes glistened. “The act of life unlocked Artalon’s power. It could have been any one of us three…”

  Oriand gasped. “Oh, Aradma… I’m so sorry.”

  “I could have left him alone,” she said. “Walked out on him. Hoped one of the others would go to him and free him. But I saw a chance, a single chance, to plead the case for truth to Ahmbren’s people.”

  “And so Meara was conceived,” Oriand murmured.

  “Yes,” Aradma said.

  Oriand thought about Keira and Tiberan. The horned man had chosen his family, and Oriand suspected that choice had been made before they had gone into the tower. More than Aradma, she pitied Tiberan. He had been born in the jungles of the Vemnai, and it seemed he had been caught in the magical forces of Ahmbren, a tool to be used by gods and dragons so he could fulfill their purposes. His heart, along with those he loved, had been caught in the middle.

  “Does he know?” Oriand asked.

  Aradma bit her lip. She nodded. “I never wanted to hurt Keira. But he already knew.”

  Suddenly, Oriand trembled in anger. “This is the price of worshipping gods,” she stated through clenched teeth. “The three of you—you’re all paying for it. The rest of us have been freed, but your scars…” She closed her eyes for a moment as the rage passed through her and then settled. “I understand why you did what you did,” she finally said. “The world is better for it, but you and he pay the price. Oriand then sighed. “It’s too much to expect a perfect ending to things, I suppose.”

  “I have another daughter,” Aradma replied. “I love my children more than anything else. Having Meara… that joy goes far beyond missing him. And Naiadne is no longer under Athaym’s influence. Her healing has begun.”

  “Does Keira know?” Oriand then asked.

  “She does,” Aradma said. “She and Tiberan came to see Meara when she was born, and they will again. Odoune’s initiated Keira into the druidic arts, and Life, I think, has helped her find happiness.”

  Oriand smiled in spite of it all. “Well… I’m glad Tiberan’s the father. It’s better than what some of the others were thinking.”

  “Oh?”

  “That you and Athaym…”

  “Oh.” Aradma snorted. “No.”

  Oriand laughed. “Well, that’s good. At least we don’t have to worry about her being the Dark Lord’s child.” Oriand started scrubbing the plate again. “No perfect endings,” she said, a serious note returning to her voice, “but I’m glad you didn’t ask him to abandon his family.”

  “That is not the truth of my being,” Aradma said.

  Oriand smiled. Then she turned and lowered her face, sternly tilting her eyes up at the seelie. “I’m glad for Keira, too. Tiberan made a life with her, and I’m glad you didn’t tear that apart.”

  “How could I?”

  Oriand raised an eyebrow.

  Aradma looked down and to the side. “Okay,” she admitted. “I haven’t always been the most stable of friends.”

  Oriand laughed. Then she threw her arms around Aradma, hugging her tightly. “I’m glad for you in my life, I really am. It was a rough road, but I’m better for it.”

  Aradma returned her embrace. Oriand felt the seelie’s breath in her ear. “There’s something I want to ask you,” the elf said.

  Oriand pulled her head back and looked into Aradma’s luminescent green eyes. “Yes?” the troll asked. Her breathing grew shallow. She sensed where this was going, but it was too much to wish for.

  “I… I know this sounds selfish,” Aradma said, “but would you… would you move into God Spire with me? Would you have me as your companion, for the rest of your days?”

  Oriand stared at her. Her heart thudded, and old feelings made her knees turn to jelly. She grabbed the kitchen sink for support.

  “What are you asking me?” she asked.

  “Would you be with me?” Aradma asked. “You know me, more than anyone. I need a friend. I need more than… I need a partner. A family. Someone who knows me, who I can confide in, and…” Aradma bit her lip.

  Oriand turned her head. “And Suleima is with her own child with Odoune, and won’t be there to help you raise Meara. And help with Naiadne.”

  Aradma stepped back, casting her eyes to the ground. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s selfish of me to ask.”

  Oriand regarded her. “A lesser woman would feel jealous,” she said. “A lesser woman would be insulted knowing you al
so love Tiberan.”

  Aradma just nodded silently. Her eyes watered.

  “I,” Oriand replied, a thrill running through her heart and tingling down her arms, “am not a lesser woman.”

  Aradma raised her eyes.

  “Yes,” Oriand said. “Yes, I will be your companion in this life.” She breathed quickly, deeply. “Oh, I don’t even know what to say. Yes!”

  Aradma blushed purple. “Oriand,” she said. “I… I mean, you know me. I’ve not been perfect. I told you before I couldn’t be with you because it wouldn’t be honest,” she said, “but it is honest now. You know my feelings, for everyone, and there is time now in my life… a place in my heart for you… to everything there is a season… I mean…”

  Oriand laughed. “Stop talking and kiss me.”

  Aradma did.

  And Oriand cried in happiness.

  EPILOGUE

  Seredith

  Seredith, the last scion of House Tal Harun, opened her eyes. There was only darkness. She tried to move. Her arms and legs were constricted. A funeral shroud.

  She screamed for a moment and then pushed through the fabric. It tore under her strength, but then… then the box. The stone box.

  Where am I?

  The phylactery must have brought her back to life. Until the phylactery was destroyed, she couldn’t die. She was bound to Ahmbren.

  Dragon’s fire!

  Her body had been destroyed by dragon’s fire. It couldn’t pull itself back together. The dragon’s fire neutralized any magic, and her body had lost its link to the phylactery.

  But her soul. Her mind. Those endured.

  Oh no…

  She reached up and touched her face. She felt farther up her head and froze.

  Her fingers curled around the prongs of her phylactery. Aiella’s crown.

  I’m in her body. With Seredith’s body destroyed, the phylactery had gathered her spirit and brought her back into the closest thing available: the dead queen.

  How long has it been? She didn’t know.

  She pounded against the sarcophagus, but she wasn’t strong enough to open it.

  She had no magic, nothing prepared to free her from this place, and no space in which to perform the ritual.

  She screamed. She would endure here forever in the confined darkness, until the long centuries disturbed her sealed tomb.

  She didn’t stop screaming.

  A month later she calmed herself. She remembered stories of wizards powerful enough to prepare spells through the focus of their minds, without need for wand or ritual space.

  She concentrated on her lessons, her meditations, going over the formulae again and again.

  She would strengthen her mind.

  She would escape this prison.

  Even if it took a thousand years.

  Arda and Anuit

  Sunlight spilled over Erindil Lake. Arda and Anuit could have flown over the water to the island, but they decided to take a rowboat, as they had done many years before. The summer sun was warm, but Anuit had fashioned loose-fitting trousers, which billowed and breathed from waist to ankles, and a cotton cholis cut it the style of Vemnai garb.

  This time, however, they hired a boat, and a burly, shirtless man with bronzed skin rowed for them while they sat and relaxed to the boat’s swaying over the gentle water.

  They had been expected. In the years since they were last in Erindil, the Covenant had lost its hold on the island. It had never been able to quell the anti-vampire insurgency, and Markus had eventually abandoned any efforts to keep Erind Isle.

  A small group of Kaldorite devotees had survived there and gathered to rebuild Erindil. They adopted Kaldorite philosophy but didn’t have the training. They eagerly awaited Arda’s arrival, and her promise that she would train and initiate people into the Light. They stared with curiosity at Arda’s companion; rumor had spread about the last paladin taking the Queen of Dis as a lover.

  The doors remained open from Arda and Anuit’s last visit, for no one had wanted to disturb a wizard’s tower. Grass had grown up high around the edges. Arda jumped out of the boat before it reached the dock and stepped lightly over the wooden planks to the sandy beach. Her feet sank beneath the soft sand, and its heat brushed over the tops of her toes. Her traditional gear and weapons all remained inside a small satchel, sewn by Anuit to be bigger on the inside.

  “This is our home, Anuit!” Arda exclaimed, turning around to take in the view. “The tower of Light!”

  Anuit cocked her head. “The tower of balance,” she said, “if it’s to be my home too. And our home is also Dis. It will be transformed by both of us together.”

  “Only, let’s not call it Dis anymore,” Arda said. “If it’s going to become a home to Light as well as Dark… something else, perhaps.”

  Anuit considered. “Elysium,” she said. “And I’ll build a bridge from there to Taer Iriliandrel.”

  Arda raised an eyebrow. “Pure dark pathways proved destabilizing to Ahmbren. Let’s figure out a way to balance it out with Light.”

  “Sure,” Anuit agreed. “As far as I can tell, we’re not aging, or at least not much. We have time to figure it out.”

  Arda smiled. The thought of a long life together made her happy. “Anuit,” she said.

  “Yes, love?”

  “I just had an idea. The Light has a philosophy alive in the world, from Archurion through Kaldor. The Dark doesn’t, at least nothing worth preserving. You’re the seal now; maybe the Dark could stand a bit of discipline. Instead of sorcerers, we could have people devoted to a code of conduct, preserving the good in the Dark.”

  Anuit smiled in interest. “I’m listening,” she said.

  “Paladins of the Night,” Arda said. “I could train you in the discipline, and then you can train and initiate those that choose to preserve Dark’s mysteries. I don’t think Kaldor would be opposed to this.”

  “No,” Anuit said. “I think he would be delighted beyond measure to think his philosophy could bring the Dark back into the good of Ahmbren. Yes, let’s do this.”

  The sorceress stopped for a moment. “There’s something else we need to figure out,” she said. “I know you’re at peace with what Aradma did, but I’m not. There’s a real threat out there in the Void. You and I need to figure out how to deal with it.”

  “We will,” Arda nodded. “I will help you. Don’t hate her for it.”

  Anuit bit her lip and shook her head. “I don’t hate her. It’s just… she made a choice for all of us.”

  “Or,” Arda said, “she undid the choice the sidhe made for all of us when they built the Kairantheum.”

  Anuit sighed. “I know. I’m just a little perturbed at her presumption. I don’t hate her. What’s done is done.”

  “We’ll figure it out together,” Arda said. “Our paladins will keep the watch. We’ll need to train them and build that bridge to Elysium if we’re serious about this.”

  Anuit smiled, releasing the tension of worry. She took Arda’s hand. “Come,” she said. “Let’s check out the tower and see what we need to do with it.”

  Arda followed the sorceress in. At the threshold, Anuit turned to say something, and then gaped. She pointed out over the lake. “Look!”

  Arda followed her gaze and saw lines of boats with white sails carrying people to the island.

  “Who do you think?” Anuit asked.

  Arda smiled. “Our first students.”

  In time, Arda and Anuit grew an order of Kaldorite paladins, trained in both Light and Dark. Eventually, candidates were sent to Artalon and initiated into the elements of Life and Time. The Kaldorite order preserved the good in the elements and worked to guard against the shadows of ignorance and superstition, greed and exploitation. They wandered the land and offered protection and solace against those who initiated violence against their fellow man or woman.

  Elysium was brought into the Light through Anuit raising Arda as her consort. Sorcery became a lost art, and all demons
had died in the Turning. Those who had been transformed by Anuit into the raven-winged celestials continued to live, for she had already grounded them in the Dark. Now, without the Kairantheum’s influence, they weren’t shaped by malice, greed, or fear.

  When Arda ascended and put her mark on Elysium, the realm responded to the influx of Light. Dove-winged celestials came to be, and the armies of Light and Dark now guarded the Void against Those Who Dwell Beyond.

  Eszhira and Tallindra

  After the Turning, the Fae who had been on Ahmbren when the Otherworld shattered emerged from hiding. Willowy and alien, of eldritch grace surpassing even the sidhe, they moved with the weird beauty of the Otherworld. They came in all shapes and sizes, faerie unbound to witches, and some even of human height, with gossamer dragonfly wings and butterfly antennae.

  Eszhira chartered a ratling and gnomish crew and traveled the realms of Ahmbren. When she found them, she offered the Fae passage to Artalon—those that wished it—where the faerie found a home amid the mixed populace. Because of her work with the Fae survivors, both the Flame and Frost Courts of the sidhe sought her out. She forged a friendship with Tallindra, and between the two of them, they were able to convince both courts to abandon their policies of isolation.

  Tallindra donned the violet robes, signifying the submission of Frost and Flame Courts, and became the Archmage. Under her guidance, the last two sidhe cities opened their gates to visitors, traders, and eventually immigrants of other races… and so too did sidhe migrate from their cities into the realms, seeking to become citizens and submitting to the sovereign rule of the land in which they settled. Many sidhe had lost trust in the Frost and Flame Courts. Eszhira became known as the unifier of elvenkind for bringing the sidhe, seelie, and faerie people together. No Fae, sidhe, or seelie settled in the Covenant land of Astia, for the vampires found their blood irresistible.

  There were many, of all races, who courted Eszhira in hopes of winning her hand as a mate. She never took a lover.