by C E Johnson
“I can sharpen them.” Her father murmured a different incantation and the margins of the weapons gleamed deadly in the mage-light. Next, Dr. D pulled Luke’s massive broadsword, Draculafire to him. The sword sang a deadly tune as he pulled it from its worn leather sheath. “A little different from your fencing swords.” He placed a similar spell on the blade to keep it sharp and to strengthen the steel before sliding the sword across the table to Luke.
Luke unsheathed his blade while speaking softly to himself, “Another of the reasons I like returning to this land.” He nodded in appreciation to Dr. D, “The edge looks good.”
Emily looked over the contours of the blade on her own weapon, Lightleecher. “Thanks again for finding me this.” She nodded toward Elizabeth. The edge didn’t need any tuning, it was unblemished, smooth, and incredibly sharp.
“I’m up for a little more treasure hunting in your mother’s lake if you get bored on this trip,” Elizabeth joked. “I think I’m going to keep the next one.”
Emily smiled as she looked over the rest of their armaments. She lovingly stroked the front of her brown shield, Soulshielder. Ladon’s old scales were still holding together well.
Perhaps you need a shield of many colors instead of that drab brown, Ammolite teased, observing the scales through Emily’s eyes even while she was flying high above the castle.
Perhaps you need to make me one, Emily bantered back.
Dragons don’t shed scales until we’re at least a thousand years old. Give me some time. She could hear the warmth in Ammolite’s words. While her friends tested their weapons, Emily strapped her dagger around her waist, and her fingers trailed over the charm on her jewelry of the elven Nuwa tree and over her greenstone necklace given to her by her mother. I can sense your pleasure as you retrieve your possessions, Ammolite added. The dragon in you is showing this fine day.
Emily laughed out loud. Her friends looked at her waiting for an explanation. “Ammolite can sense my happiness at getting back my weapons. She thinks I have some dragon tendencies because I so enjoy my treasure stash.”
“We all have a little dragon in us, I think,” Luke flashed a grin as broad as his sword, while tracing the lettering on Draculafire.
A party of elves are close by. Ammolite’s tone was warm and excited.
“The elves!” Emily exclaimed aloud. “They’re coming. Let’s go see!” She dashed out of the Castle Cave, leading her friends and her father. Anna and Isabelle mysteriously disappeared during their rapid exit.
Crittenden Quercus was the first elven aura Emily could see in the distance; she would know his aura-signature anywhere--a deep green aura with an intricate multi-colored fringe. Eventually he came into full view, riding at the front of the elven guard as the captain and lead warrior of Queen Elaina’s vanguard. “Critt!” she called as she straightened her leather armor. He raised a hand in greeting, leading the forward band of warriors on their steeds, a breed of horse known as a Botai, a golden elven horse that looked like mix between a great horse and a large sleek dog.
“Your mother is just down the slope, Princess,” Crittenden said as he dismounted with agile, inhuman grace. His green eyes were like glossy jade, beaming at Emily and his dark hair was pulled back in a small pony tail.
Emily ran forward to meet the warrior, throwing her arms around Crittenden and giving him a hug. “It’s so good to see you,” she gushed.
Crittenden laughed, “Usually elves grasp forearms in a more formal fashion rather than such an overt display of affection.” Emily blushed. “But I must say I enjoy your welcoming much better,” he continued quickly, noting her embarrassment. Emily had studied anatomy on the Island of Bashan, but she was certain Crittenden had muscles in his forearm for which there was no name. “We all missed you,” he said in a soft voice.
Xena, not to be outdone, also rushed up to the elf to give her own greeting. It’s good to see him again, she thought to Emily. Crittenden gave Xena a good rub-down with a happy smile on his face.
“Xena’s glad to see you,” Emily informed Crittenden after she exchanged an elven handshake and the formal words of greeting with the other elves who gathered around her. She continued to banter with Crittenden. “I know my presence is sometimes over bearing, so I thought I’d give you a break for a few years before returning to Acacia.”
“I’d rather you stayed in our forest with us.” Crittenden wore a serious expression. “Consider remaining with your people in the future.”
“Perhaps I will,” Emily replied. “I’m much more at peace there than anywhere else.”
“You’ll have to tell me the details of your plans when your mother arrives.” Crittenden turned to look back at the line of approaching troops, but his attention was swiftly drawn to two excited screams.
“Our turn to talk with Crittenden.” Isabelle and Anna exclaimed. They emerged from the Castle Cave and elbowed Emily to the side. They were both shimmering in matching short-hemmed gowns of gold and silver that they must have hastily thrown on, and Emily giggled at their undisguised ardor for Critt as they gave him long hugs. Elizabeth, still in her armor, rolled her eyes dramatically at Emily over their friends, but then she herself started talking intently with the second in command of the elves. He was a strong elf with brown hair pulled back in a pony-tail like Crittenden, several inches taller than his commander, and Emily smiled to herself.
Emily watched the regiment arrive, and her heart leapt in her chest as her mother appeared, riding in the center of the large contingent of warriors that Crittenden had brought to keep her safe. Her green aura was as powerful as ever. “I hope you don’t want to take your mother into danger,” Crittenden was suddenly at her side. “She’s well protected in our forest.” Emily looked up and saw a squadron of green dragons flying overhead with Ammolite.
“There’s really nothing I can say that will sway her choice,” Emily answered slowly. “I would like to have my mother with me at all times, but we both know she’ll make her own decisions.”
Crittenden studied the queen. “Her heart’s as strong as a dragon’s and she believes she’s invincible.” Elaina sat tall in her saddle with the posture of a dancer, riding a reddish-brown bay Botai horse with a black mane that rippled with ribbons and beads. Elaina’s hair was pulled back in a tight wraparound French side braid and she wore a dainty silver circlet that was so fine it looked like a spider had created a shimmering thread of sterling. She wore green boiled leather armor which had fitted green enameled scales in areas, shining like polished emeralds in the sunlight.
Emily stared in her mother in admiration and wonder. “She looks invincible,” she said in a hushed voice.
Xena raced from Emily’s side toward Elaina. I’m jealous that you get to greet her first, Emily teased in a sullen tone as Elaina dismounted to greet Xena. Emily closed her eyes as Xena sent her a flood of smells, she could identify the forest, nature, and love. “Mother,” Emily yelled, waving impatiently, “ignore my bondsmate and come see me.” Elaina laughed and remounted, putting her heels to her mount and galloping toward her daughter. Emily’s disquiet fell instantly into tranquility and peace when her mother dismounted in a rush and the two hugged so tightly she felt as if her heart would burst.
“Most unseemly for an elven princess to hug a queen,” her mother joked, “but so nice.”
“You and Crittenden are so proper,” Emily teased back.
Dr. D walked over to the queen to give her his own warm hug. “Life’s good again,” he whispered, just loud enough for Emily to also make out the words. Ammolite landed in an adjacent clearing with the squadron of greens, and the queen went over to hug the snout of the great dragon. They talked quietly for a moment before she returned to Emily and her friends from Earth.
“New auras?” The queen wrinkled her brow in confusion as she studied Emily’s friends with her emerald eyes. “I didn’t think it was possible.” They all began discussing their auras as a makeshift outdoor council table was organized for them by
the elves while showing the queen their green magestones that they were still wearing. “I’m glad you have your magestones,” the queen touched her own stone by her neck. Her skin was smooth and delicate, an unblemished light brown, lightly tanned by the sun. “Do you think they brought you any luck?”
Emily’s hand was drawn to her own necklace and a thought occurred to her. “Father, do you think our magestones could have something to do with stimulating aural formations on Earth?”
“I’m beginning to think many factors might go into their forming an aura,” Dr. D answered thoughtfully. “One factor may very well be the magestones as you suggest. However, you’ve witnessed other people with new auras who don’t have magestones as far as we know. For instance, I’m not sure how Delores’s aura would relate. There must be other causes.”
“The Quadmire gym is so close to the portal.” Emily paused. “What do you think the portal is made from? Are there magestones incorporated in the portal’s construction?”
Ammolite answered her question aloud, “I think unquestionably the portal must have a type of Acacean magestone in its composition that might affect those in its vicinity. Perhaps that’s why they were created at the extremes of nature, to minimize those risks.”
Anna appeared thoughtful. “So, were we born magicians, or changed into magicians?”
They all turned to Dr. D, and he answered slowly, “I’ve been proven wrong with my theories before, but I don’t think the stones would bring out an aura in just anyone. I believe you have underlying predispositions somehow inborn in your genetic code. Your genetics will then be stimulated by your environment in a variety of ways. Stimulants likely include portals and magestones.”
“I wonder how much Iscar knows about portals and magestones,” Isabelle was voicing her thoughts while rolling her greenstone in her fingers. Elaina raised a questioning eyebrow.
Emily explained what she knew of Iscar to her mother. She let her mother watch the images from the message-stone that Iscar had sent to her. Ammolite also listened to Iscar’s words.
“Iscar seems to be attempting to cause turmoil on Earth to goad Emily into a battle,” Ammolite spoke slowly. “I wonder if the development of auras is simply a side effect.”
“Perhaps he wants more magicians on Earth to form a larger army with new dragon-oaths,” Luke said. “If he causes enough fear, I bet most new magicians on Earth would flock to his banner if he offered them knowledge and safety.”
“Interesting thoughts.” Elaina leaned back in her chair, her lips set in a hard, grim line. “I don’t like the thoughts of Iscar targeting my daughter.” She spoke with steel, anger, and distaste. “How can we stop him?” She glanced at Emily. “I’ve heard your plan involves Shadoe.”
“We want to find Iscar and his portal,” Emily spoke in a soft voice, hoping her mother would approve of her plan. “Father and I believe we’re going to need Shadoe’s advice. If my future is intertwined with Iscar’s, he might see something to help us when giving me a prophecy. A spell I cast suggested Shadoe is the way … the truth.”
Crittenden folded his brawny arms across his chest. “The Dothan Forest is very dangerous.” There was ice in his tone, and Emily knew Crittenden was correct. Doubt and indecision warred in her mind.
“Have you heard from Shadoe recently?” Her father spoke hesitantly to her mother, and Emily wondered if he still harbored any jealousy toward his one-time rival. She couldn’t imagine sending a spouse into a forest to spend time with an old suitor.
“I have.” Her emotions were guarded. “He’s still the ruler of his elf colony, and he’s destroyed scores of half-deads, but something has changed recently. He’s started losing several of his skirmishes, something that has never happened before. The creatures are becoming more aggressive, more organized, and increasingly intelligent. The half-deads appear to long for elf magus, which advances their transformation and spiritual advancement by leaps and bounds.”
“I don’t think we should be headed down there.” Crittenden frowned. His green eyes had become cold and solemn. “A journey to Shadoe would be fraught with danger. We would need a full army to accompany you.” Anger and concern were plain on his face. “Let me lead a battle contingent down there to help Shadoe wipe out all the half-deads in the forest. We can help him once and for all while gaining information for Emily.”
Elaina shook her head and spoke in a patient tone, “That plan would never work. The half-deads have been living in that forest for thousands of years, bolstered recently by Samil’s projects. They would set up countless ambushes and they now have the strength to slaughter our elves.” Elaina sighed, and Emily could hear a touch of frustration and despair in her voice. “I believe a small squad could sneak through the forest and find Shadoe. Emily can ask him her questions and then we’ll get out of there.”
“But then Shadoe still would be on his own to fight against the evil creatures.” Elizabeth had downcast eyes. “I wish there was some way to help him. Would he lead his elves away from there and leave with us?”
The queen looked at Elizabeth curiously. “I don’t think he will ever flee from a challenge again, but perhaps he would be ready to leave his forest if he thought he could help in the battle against Iscar on another front.”
“Why can’t you just dream-link your questions to him?” Anna implored Emily. “If Crittenden is worried … maybe this is too dangerous.” She flashed Critt a shy smile.
“Just like with the dragons, Shadoe has to be in contact with those who ask him a prophecy. He can’t answer questions remotely.” Dr. D spoke in a soft voice. “We must go to him.”
“How many soldiers can I take to guard you?” Crittenden sighed, appearing to know he was defeated.
Elaina shifted in her seat. “Twelve warriors,” she answered in a hushed voice. “If we take more than that, I worry we’ll be asking for trouble. We can leave a contingent here to wait for our return.”
“My queen.” Crittenden inclined his head in a frustrated bow. “I’ll select the team.” He turned and departed.
“He doesn’t sound too pleased.” Luke stared after Crittenden.
“He seems pretty worried about the forest.” Isabelle sounded nervous and began to talk rapidly. “I wonder if his desire for more troops is wise. There is strength in numbers after all.”
“We’re a good team,” Emily promised in a soft voice. “I think we’ll work well together as usual.” A breeze came up, swirling around their position. “Hopefully we’ll be received by him.” A weight of responsibility was descending on her shoulders, and she longed to escape somewhere with Xena and Ammolite. Doubts were gnawing at her resolve.
You’re doing the right thing, Ammolite assured her.
“I think Shadoe will talk to us.” Elaina reached out a hand to touch Emily, her deep green eyes speaking volumes that she couldn’t voice.
“Are you sure you won’t go with us?” Elizabeth spoke in a hushed voice to Dr. D. She furrowed her brow and the small freckles on her face moved with her concern.
Dr. D smiled at her warmly. “No, I have a different path. I’m going to meet with Ladon to gain information and advice from his own gift of prophecy. I’m hoping that my old dragon friend can lead me down another avenue to find Iscar’s portal.”
C H A P T E R 1 6
Blackstone
Malachi stepped out of the shower, rubbing the soreness in his neck and head. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. His amber eyes appeared scared and he wrinkled his brow in disgust with himself. I’m so weak, he thought. He ran a comb through his tumbled wet, jet-black hair and brushed his teeth, putting on extra deodorant and cologne to mask the sweat that was already forming under his arms. I can do this, he encouraged himself. This is just another Stargate Project council meeting. I’ve been to scores of these. Malachi put on a sleek black pinstripe suit his parents had bought for his last birthday.
“Malachi, you have a package,” his mother yelled. “It cleared security. You can op
en it.” Malachi ran to meet his mother, automatically scanning the package in her hands. “Don’t you look nice,” she said with a wink. Malachi ignored her, focusing on an inky black aura emanating from the envelope, flaring momentarily into his vision, showing him the potential of the inner contents. Drogor had taught Malachi how to bring an aura back into his vision, but the spell drained him, and he didn’t want to be tired for his meeting. Besides, the flare was enough, Malachi knew the power that lay within. “What did you order?” His mother tossed him the package.
“Some rocks.” Malachi fumbled with the envelope. His skin felt suddenly cold and clammy, and he fell silent as the weight of the package in his hands made everything somehow a little more real.
“My little geologist.” His mother pushed back her blonde hair from her face. “Open it in your room and throw away the trash. You better hurry. We need to leave for your meeting in about ten minutes.”
Malachi dashed back up the stairs to his room, taking two steps at a time. He took out a pair of scissors, and used one blade to slice through the tape, rapidly opening the flaps and peering inside. There was a small black leather pouch that revealed eleven blackstones when he poured it into his hand. “What a rush,” Malachi murmured as he touched the stones. Electricity fairly crackled in the air and pulsations of strong voltage pumped from his palm into his body. Their power washed over Malachi and he felt energy course through his frame. Each stone was similar in size, but with a variety of shapes, many in the form of a rounded disc. I would love to keep all these stones, he thought to himself, but Drogor wouldn’t like that at all.
“Malachi, we have to go!” his mother yelled.
“Coming,” Malachi called back. He reluctantly put the stones back in the leather pouch, and placed it in the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He glanced one more time into the mirror, straightening several loose strands of hair that stuck to his forehead with a thin sheen of sweat that wouldn’t go away. Several agents materialized as he joined his mother. They all headed toward the car waiting by a service entrance to the White House. “You don’t have to drive over with me,” Malachi complained quietly to his mother, “I’m sixteen, I should be driving myself.”
