Reborn (The Dragons of Cantor Book 1)

by Lela Robichaux

  “Uncle,” she acknowledged him, but she couldn’t let go of the tree just yet. It was her anchor and her hold was tenuous at best.

  Kneeling next to her, he moved his hand over one of hers, gently freeing her fingers from their grip on the roots of the tree. He held it in both his hands. His smile was full of concern and love for her.

  “Ah la’du utahn,” he whispered. My beloved child. Not having heard nor spoken elven since she left the homeland, she still knew what he was saying and the inflection of care in his voice was unmistakable. Her father used to say the same thing to her. Giving in, she threw her arms around him. He let her sob until she felt that she had nothing more left.

  “Here, now,” he said finally, and lifted her chin with his delicate fingers. “What is this about?”

  “I don’t want this! At any given moment, I could kill those I care most for and not even be able to stop it!”

  He looked at her thoughtfully. “You know, I saw your mother get angry more than once. She never hurt anyone she did not intend to hurt. What you have to do is learn to control it.”

  “And how exactly do I do that? With no other dragons, who will teach me?”

  “Well, that wizard seems to know a bit about it.” He hesitated, but only slightly. “Why not ask him?”

  Snorting with derision, she started to feel her hurt returning. “Right! He doesn’t want anything to do with me!”

  “Ah,” Bob replied. “So, now we get to the heart of it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  With a slight hint of a smile on his lips, he continued. “He has hurt your feelings.” Again, he caressed her chin. “I can see you care for this human. In your life, you will have many people whom you care for. They will not always return your feelings.”

  “But he does! He said as much. I just don’t understand why he rejects me!” She had said it all before she even meant to. If she had thought about it, she would not have told her uncle all of this.

  “Rejection is part of life, Meylaran. Perhaps his own fear keeps him from showing you his true feelings.” He dropped his hand from her face and stood. “Now, let us return to camp.”

  Just like that, he had said what he was going to say. Oddly, it was comforting and she felt better for the distraction but it really didn’t answer any questions or solve any problems for her. She would have to be conscious of letting her feelings get the better of her, since everything was in such a heightened state of awareness. Especially her anger. She had found some good friends she could trust in and she didn’t want to lose any one of them. Soon she would have to explain all of this but for now, she just needed to keep it under control.

  “I’ll be right there. I just need a moment.” He nodded and started to move away. “Uncle, wait!” He turned back to her. “Thank you. Holuran ad’nay.”

  Inclining his head to her slightly, he said, “I honor you, as well.” He turned and walked back toward their camp.

  Mey breathed deeply and took in the scents around her; the trees, the earth, the animals. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. It was a calming technique Garrin had taught her and it almost always worked. She let her mind float free of all worries and worldly happenings. She brought to mind those she loved most. Her father, smiling at her with loving approval; Garrin next, his easy grin and happy eyes sparkling. She felt a slight ache in her heart for missing these two. Then she drew up her uncle’s image. He was so much like her father! Lastly, she held an image of Thom. How could she hate him? He was certainly beautiful but more than that, she was drawn to him. He had been kind, he saved her life. Perhaps he was right; they should keep their task foremost in mind. That was the right thing, she decided; of course it was. How could she have behaved as she did? Slowly, she brought the world around her back into focus and opened her eyes. She stood and made her way back to their camp.

  **********

  Upon entering camp, she could feel the eyes on her but when she would look up, they all quickly looked away. All but Thom; his eyes never left her.

  The fire was small, the nights had not yet become too chill, but Mey set her bedroll out closer to it. The light comforted her. As she lay, staring into the flames and drifting to sleep, her mind called to her protectors, as it did every night. The faces of her father, Garrin and, no matter how much she wanted to ignore him, Thom.

  The next thing she knew, she was awakening to the sound of her name. She rolled around, trying to avoid the annoying noise. Quickly, she became alert, knowing she had to get up for her watch. Opening one eye, she looked right at a smiling Durlag. “Time fer yer watch, girl,” he said.

  The smell of the spirits he constantly drank washed over her and she almost gagged. That was surely their best defense against any creature who thought to venture too close! Maybe they could just have Durlag breathe on their enemy and they would run, screaming back where they came from.

  Immediately seeking a way to avoid another wave of the nauseating smell, she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

  “Yes, I’m up,” she mumbled through her sleep fog.

  “Much as they say elves don’t need sleep, you lot sure can snore to wake the dead,” he said over his shoulder as he made his way to his own bedding.

  “I do not snore!” Playful indignation colored her words as she stood and put on her bandolier and sword belt. Checking her secreted weapons in her boots, sleeves, at her waist, and even strapped to her leg, she asked, “Who’s on watch with me?”

  The dwarf yawned and rolled to his side facing her. “Yer own uncle, to be sure. That’s yer first watch. I’m thinking that our young priest has tried to bribe ‘im into getting the next with ye.” He winked at her. “I’m thinkin’ that one’s smitten.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at him. “I think not. Just curious about elves.” She hadn’t thought Elerbee’s attention to be more than that. Was it? She shook the notion off and continued about her business.

  Her uncle was at the perimeter of the camp on the southern edge. She almost walked right past him but at the last moment, her keen sight caught his heat signature.

  “I will start here at the southern point. You start at the northern. We will make a circuit of the camp, slowly, to cover all ground.” Her uncle was nothing if not thorough.

  After two hours, they had circled the camp three times. Bob looked weary. If she had not forced him to go rest, she was sure he would have tried to stay on a third watch. Reluctantly, he dragged himself to his bed. Shaking her head, Mey could only ponder on his dedication to their safety. When she thought back, he always took more than one watch. Rarely did she see him sleep. And when he did, his sleep was troubled. Perhaps no rest at all was better than what awaited him behind his closed eyes.

  Her second watch was indeed with the priest. Once awake, Elerbee was enthusiastic to share time with her. The small clearing was lightening as the sun began its rise, so they had little need to run the perimeter – Mey could see most of it. Human eyes wouldn’t be able to detect the changes she could see, but Elerbee trusted in her when she told him that everything was clear.

  He had not traveled much with others and was a bit unused to having to watch out for people, he confided to her.

  “How, then, do you keep yourself safe while on the road?”

  “Oh, now, that is the fun part,” he winked at her. “These robes that you are so fond of; they keep me safe. They are my shield.”

  “What do you mean?” Mey wanted to know. “Like armor?”

  “Exactly! They also keep me from freezing in cold weather or overheating when it’s hot.” With a flourish of his hands, he showed off the amazingly clean robes. He chuckled. “And they stay clean.”

  Trying her best not to just reach out and touch them again, she opened her senses to the magic they exuded. The familiar pull of the energy was there but this time she tried putting herself outside of it rather than directly in it. It was working! The pull lessened and she was still able to sense the energy and follow its path. Her urge
to know more about the magic and to experience it was still there as well, but the overwhelming need to possess it was not. Her uncle was right; all she needed to learn to do was to control all of this.

  Elerbee held out an arm. “You may touch them, if you like.”

  Mey looked from him to the robes and back again to be sure, before she reached out her hand. She was trembling with the effort it was taking to keep her urges under control. The moment her fingertips brushed the fine white fabric, it was like an electric bolt was unleashed throughout her entire body. Magical energy flowed through her in such a rush, she jerked her hand away. The moment she did, it was all gone. She smiled in spite of herself. Looking at Elerbee, she found him smiling as well.

  “It’s you, isn’t it? You are the descendant of the dragons.” Excitement danced in his eyes. “I knew it!”

  Hesitation would not serve her here. Immediately, she answered him. “What are you talking about?” She placed a careful look of innocent confusion on her face.

  “I had my doubts at first, but then, that fire…” he broke off. He had a smug smile on his face and Mey was getting more nervous by the minute.

  “You must be mistaken. I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Turning away to continue moving on the perimeter of the camp, she abruptly stopped. Something was amiss. Sniffing the air, there was only the smell of the people in this camp. She could see nothing and her ears picked up not a sound.

  “What?” Elerbee pressed as he moved closer to her. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe nothing.”

  He muttered quiet prayers to his god and the barely perceptible glow of magic engulfed them both. At the same moment, a dagger hit the invisible force in front of her and fell harmlessly to the ground.

  Quickly, Mey drew a dagger in each hand. She turned to Elerbee, who was holding his own weapon, an ornately wrought, silver warhammer. Now where did that come from? Instinctively, she crouched and moved to the nearest tree.

  Elerbee’s voice was right next to her. “You are covered by the spell. Priestly armor; but it will only last a few minutes.”

  “Did you see where it came from?”

  “No.” He didn’t seem as frightened as she would have thought. Fleetingly, she noted his comfort in handling the hammer and the general situation of danger.

  “We need to wake the others.” She let out a long, low, whistle. Bob was at their side in almost no time. “Elerbee, go. Get the rest up!”

  He nodded and moved off. Mey continued to scan the camp and its surrounding area with all her senses. But she could come up with nothing. Whoever it was knew what they were doing.

  “I don’t know where they are!” She ground her teeth together with frustration. “That dagger,” she pointed to it, “came at my chest. Elerbee’s armor spell stopped it.”

  “I’ll take the higher vantage point.” Slinging his bow over his shoulder, Bob scrambled up the tree they hid behind. Once he was out of sight, Mey let out the breath she had not realized she had been holding.

  She could hear the others stirring now. Durlag first, then Thom. As they made their way over to her, she could see Elerbee’s divine power shielding them all. Durlag brought up the rear and was swatting at his arms and face in distaste of having the magic touch him so closely.

  Just as they passed into the tree’s shelter, another dagger hit the armor spell covering Elerbee and clattered, useless, to the ground. He bent and picked it up. The group huddled together. Quickly, the decisions were made; Durlag moved off to position himself opposite the group on the left. Thom moved to take up the right, and insisted that Elerbee stay close to Mey with his healing magics at the ready. Elerbee blessed each as they made their way to their points.

  They waited. Mey closed her eyes and opened a mental link to her uncle, above them. Do you see anything?

  At least six. She heard the sound of an arrow fly and a grunt. Five. They move in shadow. My guess would be a band of highway thieves.

  She whispered this information to Elerbee, who hefted his hammer and nodded once. Where?

  They will come from all sides. They are splitting up now.

  TEN

  Things moved quickly. A few more daggers flew in, but once they met with Elerbee’s magical armor, they fell harmlessly to the ground. Still Mey could not hear, smell nor see anything. One of the filthy rogues was almost on her before she spotted him. Where in the hells had he come from? She focused on the black paint that covered him head to toe, even his clothes.

  Ah, invisible midnight. A trick she learned almost from her start as an apprentice with Garrin. Mixing the right herbs would give one a black, inky substance that would shield you from prying eyes if used properly. It also rendered any smell almost nonexistent. That would explain much.

  A slow smile curled her lip as she circled him. He never took his eyes from her either. She kept her senses open, trying to determine if any of them were sneaking up from behind to pin her in and get the advantage. The only weapon in his hands at this point was a garrote. He had planned on taking her out silently, had he? Well, they had lost their advantage of surprise. Now, they had to stand and fight and they were ill prepared for that.

  Her opponent took a swipe at her. Mey side-stepped and came in with her own lunge, dagger leading. She managed to nick his arm as he turned to parry her move. He spiraled to the left, drawing a sword as he moved. Not her preferred mode of attack, but, swords it was. Mey drew her own but kept the dagger in her left hand. Sword-play worked much better for her if she had a dagger to balance it out.

  “Come on, girl,” the man said through gritted teeth.

  “Oh, must we have all this talking?” Mey sighed and came in with a backhanded swing, which he managed to knock aside with the flat of his blade.

  They matched each other move for move. He was good. Her blade locked with his. They were so close she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.

  “Maybe I could show you how to handle a sword,” he said with lewd intent.

  Blinking once, his face froze in a grimace and the life started fading from his eyes. Warm blood ran over Mey’s hand as the dagger sank to the hilt. “Maybe I could teach you a thing or two about underestimating a woman with a dagger,” she whispered as he slid to the ground.

  Dropping the sword, she turned in time to see Durlag engaged with two of the highwaymen. Almost at the same instant, small darts of light from Thom’s spell found their mark on one of them. Scanning the small campsite, she spotted another man on the ground, arrows protruding from his back and neck. That was two down. Where was Elerbee?

  A loud cry resonated from behind, and had her grabbing two more daggers as she crouched low. The sight of Elerbee holding his hammer above his head, ready to bring a smashing blow down on his opponent answered her question. The weapon glowed with a radiance bright and pure as the hammer passed through the air. Elerbee’s booming call to his god had the other man’s eyes wide with fear. At the last moment, the man managed to twist himself back and the blow landed on his shoulder. Apparently, Elerbee had not anticipated missing and he was not ready with the follow-through swing. The thief managed to get his weapon in hand and up for a strike. The sword was headed for her new friend’s chest and surely would fell him.

  “Not today,” she whispered and raced toward the two. Throwing one of the daggers, it deflected the blow enough so it met with his arm and not his heart. A look of pain crossed Elerbee’s face and by that time, Mey was behind the rogue, grabbing his filthy hair and pulling back as hard as she could. He grunted in protest. A dagger appeared at his throat.

  “Mercy,” she heard the man whimper.

  Her hand stopped for only an instant, but a clear urge to continue the task was forefront in her mind. She pierced the soft flesh and drug the blade across his throat. Warmth flowed over her hand and she heard her own voice, “Mercy is for fools!”

  She closed her eyes, almost able to taste this moment. A sudden vision exp
loded behind her lids, speeding through her mind: The magnificent creature stretched its powerful limbs. Sunlight shone and sparkled on its royal blue scales. Leathery wings rose from its back and it rolled its head around to stare directly at her. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. The compulsion to kneel before this majestic being was almost so strong she couldn’t escape it. Golden eyes held her and laughter encompassed the entire countryside.

  “Welcome, sister. Thank you for waking me.”

  She dropped the dagger like it was molten hot and the vision was gone. Looking up at Elerbee, eyes wide, mouth agape, she wondered if he had seen it too.

  He stood, holding his arm, his gaze still on the dead man at his feet. Mey looked down. The man’s head was nearly completely severed from his body. Revulsion swept over her.

  Had she done that? There was no time to dwell on it now. The sounds of battle assailed her ears. She decided to leave the dagger where it lay. To touch it again was not a thought she relished.

  Finding Durlag still engaged with one of the rogues, and Thom sagging against a tree trunk, urgency moved her feet. Elerbee was right next to her; healing his own wounds as they moved. They stopped next to Thom, who was several feet away from the dwarf.

  “Are you hurt?” Elerbee asked Thom.

  Thom only shook his head. He looked too tired to even speak.

  Bob approached. “What do they want?”

  Looking at one another, all three had to shrugged, admitting ignorance. Suddenly, Mey had to know. What did they want? “Elerbee, can you stop him without killing him?”

  “Yes, I can. But Durlag…”

  “I’ll take care of Durlag. You just stop our friend, there. And make sure he can still talk.” She flicked her wrist and a dagger fell from beneath her shirt sleeve and she moved toward the dwarf, circling around so that he would see her approach.

  Plainly, Durlag was having fun. One hand held his battle axe, a large and definitely well-used weapon, and the other held his ornate flask. He swilled the concoction after almost every swing. Mey had to chuckle at this sight. The poor rogue must think his opponent crazy, and he wouldn’t be far off. She knew, however, after spending these few weeks with Durlag, the other man was doomed.