Reborn (The Dragons of Cantor Book 1)

by Lela Robichaux

  Mey let her thoughts roam back through the years and then finally said, “In early years, I remember my father being distant. He was detached from the world around him. Losing my mother must have been devastating to him. Of course I asked of her, to which his only reply was that she had died. I never questioned his answer. Around my twentieth year, I remember him spending more time with me. That is when we traveled to the elven homeland.”

  Neither spoke as they sat, watching the flames of the campfire lick up toward a sky dotted with small points of light. Durlag’s snore was oddly comforting in the silence.

  “I’ll take the watch from here,” Mey offered as she stood. Thom inclined his head and rose.

  “Mey, the Shadow Guard that attacked and these goblins today; they are all part of the plan to stop us. You need to realize that the further we go, the more danger this journey presents.”

  “Right,” she answered. “Once we meet Bob at the Point, we can discuss all this a bit more. There’s a lot I need to know, about dragons, about this Idylic and about myself.” Walking a few paces, she stopped and then turned back to him. “Thanks, Thom. You’ve saved my life twice now. I owe you.”

  “You owe me nothing, Mey,” he said. “Good night.”

  **********

  The next morning found them back on the road to Andari Point. The air was chill in the morning but warmed steadily as the sun passed through the sky. The small group remained watchful but the days and nights were uneventful.

  They reached Andari Point on the evening of the third day. Dusk was settling over the hills and the trees cast shadows about the clearing. One particular rock jutted over a crevice carved deep into the side of the hill. A lone figure stood at the edge, looking over the hills beyond.

  The tall, slender figure turned as the group came up behind him. The handsome features of this elf were marred by a long, thick, reddened scar that started at his temple and twisted its way down past the eye and along the jaw bone, ending somewhere beyond the collar of his shirt. A warm smile spread across his face as his clear, green eyes came to rest on Mey. He held his arms out to her.

  “Uncle!” Mey called as she took off to greet him. She ran to him but stopped just short of barreling into him and taking them both right over the edge. Reaching out she took his hands and bowed low to him; a traditional greeting for an elder among the elves.

  “Forget that nonsense,” the elf scolded her playfully. He pulled her up and enveloped her in a smothering hug. Mey buried her face into his strong chest and breathed in his wonderful, woodsy smell. No matter how long they had been apart, this smell lingered with her. Emotions were overtaking her and she pulled back from him.

  “Uncle, there is so much we need to discuss.” The small hesitation in his eyes caused her to look over her shoulder. Her companions stood there, doing what they could to let the two have their moment. “Oh, I am sorry,” she said. “These are my friends. Thom Uray, of the Mage’s Circle and Durlag Rockcrusher, of the Clan Rockcrusher.” She motioned to each in turn.

  Bob bowed low from his waist. “An honor,” he said.

  He was sizing them up, she knew. She took his hand to lead him over to her friends.

  “They have proven to be good warriors and have each saved my life at least once.” This bit of information would mean more to Bob than anything else she could say. Bob was different from other elves. He did not have the haughtiness that most carried about the other races. Respect ran deep in him for all creatures.

  Very much the loving uncle, the time they spent together so long ago had stayed with her. Her father had not gone into detail about her family, but he had hinted that she should mind herself from going about and hugging elves. Elves were more dignified than that and he was sorry he had let her get away with acting in such a manner for so long. Bob let her hug him as much as she had wanted.

  “Mey,” Thom began, “Durlag and I will set up camp. You and your uncle should talk.” He gave a meaningful glance at Durlag, who did not yet know the true nature of their journey, and started unpacking the horses.

  Moving back to the edge of the large, flat rock the two of them settled themselves. There were so many questions Mey had for her uncle. Certainly he knew more about her mother than anyone else could tell her at this point. She wanted so desperately to know what her mother was like; a feeling that had only recently come up. In all her eighty years, there had not been much curiosity about her mother. Her father had always been enough. Of course, without a mother, there were lessons she had to learn the hard way; lessons that mothers usually taught daughters. And the biggest lesson of all, her heritage, would forever be lost with her mother, leaving her to rely on the memories of others.

  **********

  Bob proved to be a good addition to their small party. He fit in quite nicely. At just over five-hundred years old, he had known the world before the dragons had been forced to depart.

  Elves grow physically at about the same rate as a human, reaching full growth in about their twentieth year. Their minds, on the other hand, do not fully mature until about a hundred years. During these first hundred years of life, elves are referred to as ‘quicklings.’ Mey was considered a quickling by elven standards, but Bob never treated her as such.

  In revealing her secret to Bob, she found that he already knew much of the story and could fill in the parts for her that were missing. He proved a great source of stories of her father and mother in the years before she was born. Mey loved them all the more with each story her uncle relayed. Warmth enveloped her as Bob spoke of her mother.

  Deep down, Mey was hoping that her uncle knew where her father was or at least had some clue as to where he had been headed. Bob had last seen his brother when he brought Mey to visit the homeland close to fifty years before. He had not seen nor heard from him since. Hope was vanishing quickly that she would ever find her father but she never doubted that he was alive.

  Mey relayed her own stories to her uncle. Speaking of Garrin and finding that she now could laugh at the memories without being sad was a welcome change. Little by little she revealed what was happening to her with the dragon blood. This last development had been the hardest for her so far. During the battle she felt that she had lost control and instinct took over.

  “Uncle, I wanted to eat the creature! I feel like I am losing who I am.”

  Bob took her hands and looked directly at her eyes. “Yes, I can see changes in you. From the last time you were in the homeland to now; you are a different girl.” His smile made her feel more at ease. “But I do not think you are losing yourself. You are gaining something that is part of you. It is wonderful and magical and yours alone.”

  “I’m not so sure I want it,” Mey confessed. Tears stung her eyes as she tried to put all the emotions running through her body in check. The stubborn side came through as she kicked at a rock lodged in the dirt. “Why me? Why don’t I have a choice in this?”

  “Dear Quickling,” Bob said. His laughing tone made her angrier by the second. “No one chooses their parents or the path their life will take. You must accept what is yours and know that there is purpose to it.” His eyes took on a far away glaze.

  “But I don’t accept it! I do have a choice; I can choose to ignore this pull that I feel and to ignore the fate that the world has laid at me feet.” She was being stubborn and she knew it but it just seemed so unfair. Why should it have to be her that everyone depended on?

  “Your father would have told you the same.”

  “My father…” her voice trailed. Her anger faded somewhat. Convinced that he was still alive, there was a question that nagged at her. “Uncle, he is out there, isn’t he?”

  “I feel that he is, yes.” Elves bond with their families so strongly sometimes that they actually feel the others emotions even when they are miles apart. When her uncle obtained his scar, her father told her he had felt it so deeply that he had a faint red mark on his own face in the same place for a week after. Another reason she believed s
o stubbornly that her father was still alive was she felt it.

  As they sat, each in their own thoughts, the sun sinking lower on the horizon, Mey felt a wonderful camaraderie with her uncle. They had only spent two short years with one another, but had bonded as strongly as any other elves. She was glad he was on this trip with her; to help share in the struggle with who she was and to somehow find a way to bring dragons back into the world.

  Almost at the same moment, Mey a bit quicker than Bob, they sprang up, weapons in hand and turned, all in one fluid movement. Thom stood there, hands up, and a look of pure fear on his face. “S-s-sorry,” he stammered.

  Mey let the tension in her body relax. Her arms fell to her sides. “Thom,” exasperation evident in her voice, “don’t ever do that again!” She slipped the daggers back into their place at her hip. Bob was putting his weapon away more slowly.

  “I am sorry. I did not want to interrupt your talk. I had cast a barrier of silence around you for your own privacy. I should not have let it down so abruptly.” Embarrassment shone red on his face. “Uh…we need to, uh, speak of the Idylic.”

  Mey turned to Bob. The thought that he knew what it looked like had crossed her mind earlier but she had forgotten to ask.

  Bob was nodding his head. “The Idylic. I suppose you need to know the story of this artifact if we are to mend it and call forth dragons.”

  “Uncle, have you seen it?”

  “Yes. I have seen it. I have touched it and I saw it destroyed.” Pain, anger, love, envy, and sadness all moved across his face as he looked at her. A hand came up to touch the rough scar that ran the length of his face.

  Thom cleared his throat and said, “The Mage’s Circle believes that of the pieces that were scattered across Cantor, the Heartstone is the most significant. If we can bring it together with the main body still left, it will allow the statue to heal itself enough so that one of dragon blood can call to her kin and lead them back to our world.”

  “What did the Idylic look like?” Mey asked her uncle. “Before it was torn apart, I mean.”

  Bob began to say something at the same time Thom tried to answer. They looked at one another, challenge evident in both men’s eyes. Thom bowed his head slightly, acquiescing to Bob. After all, Bob had seen the actual statue and Thom’s image came from the many descriptions he had studied and pieced together from books.

  Bob began again. “The statue is of a dragon itself. It is the first dragon, Sundar. Gemstones adorn the entire statue, having been given in reverence over years by other dragons. The statue itself is made of marble. The Heartstone is rumored to be Sundar’s own heart that transformed as it was placed to capture every dragon essence in existence. Who placed it there is a mystery. There has always been speculation as to who created the statue, but the dragons believe that Sundar himself had it made because he was vain and just liked to look at himself.”

  Thom cleared his throat. “The gemstones, they were used as adornment as well as being part of the statue itself, correct? Each time a dragon paid homage with a gem, he would embed that gem into the marble with magic.”

  “True,” Bob answered. “The image of Sundar was very close to the actual dragon, although on a smaller scale. It stood about seven feet in height, with wings spread.” He picked up a small stick nearby. “Here, let me try to sketch it so you have a better idea.” He started scratching in the dirt.

  As they watched the image form at their feet, Thom said, “The Mage’s Circle believes the Heartstone to be somewhere on the Faery Isles. The level of magical activity in that area has increased over the years and is now adversely affecting everything. The people of the Barren Lands that skirt the edge of the Isles have increasingly reported strange happenings.”

  “But I thought the Barren Lands were empty.” Mey’s brow furrowed as she spoke. “No plant life, animals or people. Just flat land where nothing grows.”

  Bob straightened and spoke, “That is not entirely the case. The area is called the Barren Lands because it is very difficult to survive there. There are tribes of humans that dwell in this land. They have found a way to adapt and survive. However, you are right about the animals. There are not many; a few species have managed to acclimate themselves.”

  Thom nodded. “Yes, it is difficult to live there, but people do; and things are changing. The few animals that have dwelt peacefully with the humans have started turning on them. And the humans have been warring with other tribes as well as some small villages on the outskirts of the Barren Lands. It’s like the people have been taken over by something beyond their control. There have been sightings of magical energies as well. No one can explain where they have come from or where exactly they are originating.”

  “So, to the Barren Lands?” Mey asked. “The four of us? When do we let Durlag in on the secret? Dragons aren’t necessarily his favorite creatures. He’s said as much himself. His clan was almost directly responsible for Arlien’s departure.”

  Turning toward the dwarf who was, as usual, nursing his beautiful flask, Thom spoke. “I think he will be more accepting of our quest than you think.”

  Mey and Bob looked at one another. If he isn’t, Thom’s magic will make sure he does. Her uncle’s smile told Mey he had heard the thought and was in agreement. Mey yawned and looked across the darkening sky. “I think I have to call it a day. We’re leaving in the morning, right? It’s going to be a long trek to the Barren Lands and the sooner we start the better.”

  “I think it would be a smart move to leave as soon as possible,” Bob said. “Something tells me that we are not quite safe where we are.”

  Glancing at Thom, Mey told him, “I’ll leave it to you to explain the dangers. I can’t keep my eyes open another minute!”

  **********

  Thom watched her walk away. He never could focus completely with her around. Sighing, he turned back to Bob, who was looking at him with a curious expression. “What?” Thom asked.

  “Just a fleeting thought I was catching from Mey,” Bob said. “Well, back to the business at hand. So, the Mage’s Circle thinks the Heartstone is all we need to heal the Idyllic?”

  Thom didn’t quite trust this man yet. They had only just met and usually elves had their own agenda. How much should he reveal? He knew the location of the Heartstone; or rather, where the Mage’s Circle believed the location to be.

  Certainly, there was the fact that he was Mey’s uncle and she trusted him explicitly. However, they had not seen one another in almost fifty years. A lot can change over that amount of time. The decision was made - he would only reveal what he had to at this point. The rest he would keep to himself. After all, there were still things he was keeping from Mey as well; all for her own good, or so he told himself.

  Bob’s voice brought him back from his inner struggles. “What dangers do we face, Mage? Mey told me of the Shadow Guard and the goblin attack, but surely goblins and shadows aren’t the only nemesis we face.”

  “No, of course not. The dangers as we go along will grow. There are forces that would see this quest ended before any progress can be made.”

  Bob prodded him for more. “Such as?”

  Struggling not to reveal information the Circle had stumbled upon, Thom chose his words carefully. “There are sects of priests who are not happy with our activities. They think we overstep our bounds and have no right to decide the fate of the world.”

  “Do you?” The tension between the two men could be cut with a knife. “After all, who is anyone to decide the fate of others?”

  “It’s not like that. We do not make the choices. We only give a small push to those that may need it.” Thom was beginning to wonder if he should bow out of this conversation.

  “People like my niece?”

  “No.” The statement was firm and left no room for argument otherwise. “People like your niece are special. People who have the ability to change the world but just don’t know it yet. She is powerful beyond her imaginings and to bring that power to th
e surface would only lend to her existing strength and beauty.” Thom stopped himself. He was going too far. He had almost let his anger carry him away.

  “Well, then, I see no reason not to continue on your path to saving the world. If you feel that strongly.” There was a hint of a smile on Bob’s face. “Get a good rest. Tomorrow we continue your journey to the Barren Lands.” With that, he walked away.

  SEVEN

  The terrain between Andari Point and the Barren Lands was perilous and unforgiving. Small villages and settlements dotted the route, which was mostly forestland. They decided to skirt these villages and continue on without entering, unless, of course, supplies were needed. They could live mostly off the land, what with the rabbits, squirrels, deer and other animals prowling about.

  As they packed and readied themselves that first morning, Mey noticed an unwarranted amount of tension present between the men. Now, what is all this about? Gods, she hoped the two of them worked through their differences. The last thing she wanted to deal with for weeks or months on the road was two squabbling men. She rolled her eyes when she heard them bickering over how to load the pack horse. With conviction, she took the bundle from Bob’s hands, probably a bit too roughly, and snatched the length of rope from Thom’s. Glaring at them both, she looped the rope around the pack and tied it snugly to the horse’s saddle.

  “There,” she said through clenched teeth. “We are ready.”

  She heard Durlag’s laugh follow her as she strode toward the path to wait for the others to catch up. She would much prefer to make this journey alone if this was any example of what she was going to have to put up with. Durlag’s flask was looking better and better by the moment.