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Reborn (The Dragons of Cantor Book 1)

Page 11

by Lela Robichaux


  ELEVEN

  During the continued journey south toward the Dahrst Hills, Thom explained what he had taken from the thief’s mind. Well, most of it, anyway. The mask he carried was magic and very valuable. He was careful not to reveal all of its properties as Durlag and Elerbee were still in the dark concerning Mey’s dragon heritage.

  Just a few days outside the Hills, Thom finally approached Mey. The group stopped for a respite and Mey used the time to tend to her weapons. Each of her daggers had been laid out neatly on her cape for proper cleaning. As he approached, Thom noticed one dagger conspicuously missing from the line-up.

  “What about that one?” he said pointing to the bone-handled dagger sitting off to the side.

  She shrugged, not bothering to look up. “It takes care of itself, it seems.”

  “It certainly is beautiful. Hard to use, I imagine, considering all the gemstones set in the handle.”

  Mey stopped and glared up at him. “Do you have a purpose for interrupting me?”

  “Yes. May I sit with you?”

  After a moment of hesitation, she relented, moving a few daggers back to their places along the bandolier. “Sure. Mind you don’t cut yourself.”

  “So… I remember when you picked that one up.” He really wasn’t very good at this small-talk. “What was its appeal? The jewels?”

  “Your purpose?”

  “My…purpose…” he stuttered, distracted by her shirt which was unlaced a bit too far, revealing more flesh than made him comfortable. He could barely pull his eyes away; but managed to look her in the eye. “Right.” Clearing his throat, he gestured to the bone-handled knife. “I wanted to ask you about this dagger.”

  “What about it?” she shot back.

  “I noticed you used it.” He watched her carefully, ascertaining more from his scrutiny than any words she would willingly tell him.

  “It was the first one I grabbed.” Her eyes narrowed. “What exactly is it you want to know?”

  He supposed he might as well say it. Thom rubbed his hands together, unable to help glancing once more at the skin exposed from her unlaced shirt. “Well, I noticed you were reluctant to touch it while you were gathering your weapons. I just wanted to know the reason.”

  He could tell she was about to say something, but she looked back to her work and began cleaning the next weapon. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Well, would it surprise you if I told you that the dagger has magical properties?”

  “No,” she replied. “Anything that tacky would have to be magical. I’m sure you see the aura as well as I.”

  “But I didn’t see it until you used it that day,” he tried to explain. “The magic in this blade was dormant until then. What happened when you used it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” His exasperation with her was building. Why was she so stubborn? By the gods, he would make her talk to him. “I saw the way you were afraid to touch it. Something happened!”

  Again, she seemed on the verge of saying something, instead opting to shake her head and shrug.

  “Fine. We won’t talk about the dagger.” Maybe leaving the subject alone for a while would help. He decided to broach another subject they had to face. “You know, we have to tell Durlag the truth. Elerbee as well if he is to continue with us.”

  “Elerbee knows.”

  “What?” He was shocked by this response.

  “He knows,” she repeated. “Right before that scum attacked our camp looking for the mask, he asked.”

  Thom pushed for more, “What did he say?” This was a bit of news he had not known.

  “He simply asked if I was the descendant of the dragons. Things moved too quickly afterward for us to continue our conversation. He hasn’t raised the subject again.”

  So that is what his looks meant, Thom thought. He had noted how Elerbee watched her. He watched her every move and when he spoke directly to her, he was very reverent.

  Thom felt a little guilty for mistaking the attention as something more. He had even had bouts of jealousy. What was happening to him? It wasn’t like him to be so rash in his judgments. His thoughts whirling, he didn’t realize his gaze had again gone to the low neckline of Mey’s shirt.

  “You know, if I take the shirt off, you get a better view,” she snapped.

  Immediately, heat infused his face. He tried to stammer an apology but it only came out sounding pathetic and weak.

  Ignoring his attempt at an apology, she said, “So, Elerbee knows about my heritage. We must tell Durlag.” She placed the last dagger in the bandolier. “No better time, I guess.”

  He was sure she was trying to avoid being alone with him for too long. He deserved her coldness. But he couldn’t let it continue.

  “Mey, we have more matters to speak of.”

  She cocked an eyebrow in question. She was so exquisite; her beautiful dark auburn hair trailing in strands into her face, half covering one silver-green eye. He could stare at her without speaking for eternity, he was certain.

  “We need to speak of the mask.” He hesitated for a moment. He wanted to add, and I need to explain myself.

  The impassiveness she had set so carefully on her face wavered. “What about the mask?”

  “As I told everyone, it is magical. But what you must know is that it has to be used in calling the dragons. I’m not entirely sure why yet, I need more study, but you would have to wear it.”

  He watched as she struggled with composure.

  “Does it frighten you?”

  “Of course it does,” she answered. “It is unknown. Everyone fears the unknown.”

  “We can talk about this, if you like.” He was offering to open up to her; to share his own thoughts as well, but would she accept?

  She was quiet, so he tried again. “Mey, I can tell you things about your heritage that will help take away some of the fear. I’m trying to help you.”

  She sighed. “I know. I have to come to terms with this and I am trying. My uncle has told me to speak with you on this as well.”

  He saw the opening and had to take the chance. It would give him more time with her. Time in which he was sure he could fix all he had done wrong. “What would you like to know first?”

  “I think that the first thing I need to learn is how to control all these emotions.” Looking him straight in the eye, she said, “I can’t lose control again.”

  He relaxed a little now that she was talking. “Emotions can overwhelm anyone. In your case, they are all at a heightened level. Dragons were infinite beings and could feel everything acutely: anger, fear, pride, love.” The last word lingered in his mouth, tasting like bitter fruit. There were so many other words he wanted to say but he held them back. This was not about him; it was about helping her to control her emotions.

  “Love…” she echoed the word. Her brows had pulled together in confusion. Then, shaking her head, she said, “I can feel these things most times, coming upon me. Now that I know they have the potential to overwhelm me, if I concentrate hard enough, I should be able to control it, right?”

  “Yes, you should. But some will be harder to control than others. You should spend time each morning in meditation. It would help you to relax and think through all these things.” He let a smile touch his lips. “I read that dragons spent weeks and sometimes months in a meditative state. Perhaps this is what they were doing, as well.”

  A small laugh escaped her. The sound had a profound effect on him. It was the most wonderful sound he had ever heard. He swallowed the lump in his throat that was forming. Stop this! If only she could see how he was indeed putting his own lesson into play at this very moment, it would help her understand. His own nervous laugh helped release some of his tension. How much of what was happening to him was the pull of her dragon essence and how much was true feeling? That thought disturbed him.

  “You know,” he said, “dragons had a power that was innate. A power to dominate. This is the one thing that
people were most frightened of. There were dragons who purposely used this power to have power over whole races. It was out of control and they were responsible for a lot of the wars that led up to their banishment.”

  She shook her head vigorously. “I would never control someone’s free will. That would be wrong. I don’t want to do that.”

  “You need to consciously be aware of this power. People are drawn to you. Your mystery and magical essence attracts people whether they like it or not.” The look that crossed her face told him she understood that he was confessing his feelings of confusion at his attraction to her.

  “Oh. I would never…” Her words trailed off.

  “Not on purpose. I know that.” She looked so sad, it drove deep into his heart. He had to assure her somehow. “You can manage this, as well. Just be aware of it.”

  There. He had explained himself without actually having to mention their kiss. A kiss he found himself thinking about almost every moment of the day and dreaming of every moment of the night. The truth was he wasn’t sure if his feelings were genuine. They felt real, and most importantly, they felt right. But there was a doubt, so he had to be certain.

  “Maybe we should talk to the others now. They need to know things as well.” She paused. “We’re in for a rough time from here on out, I suspect. The darkness in the north is growing.”

  Thom turned and looked at the sky behind him. Black clouds roiled in the distance. It looked like the most hideous storm massing that he had ever seen. “What is that?” he whispered aloud, not really expecting an answer.

  “Come on, let’s find the others.” Mey was on her feet in a split second. Thom rose, and with his eyes still on the dark clouds, murmured ascent.

  **********

  Mey looked at the stunned face of the dwarf. The others were, of course, not shocked. But Durlag stood, staring, mouth agape, his eyes locked on her and a look of confusion spreading fast across his hard features.

  He shook his head slowly, as the words she said were sinking in. “But I’ve fought beside ye,” he protested. “Ye’re walkin’ on yer two legs. Those ears belong to an elf or I’m an ogre’s uncle!”

  “I am a mortal being, yes,” Mey told him. “But the blood of dragons runs in my veins. They are my kin. My mother was dragonkind until she chose to stay in mortal form with my father.” There was no way to tell which way this would go at this point.

  His head never stopped its back and forth momentum. His fingers fumbled at his wide belt. When he didn’t find what he sought, his attention went to his hands. Patting all around the belt, his search grew more frantic.

  Mey produced his ornate flask from her boot and held it out to the dwarf. With a slight grin, she said, “And I am still the thief you met in Seaside.” His scowl deepened and he snatched the flask from her hand. “Sorry. Old habits.” She shrugged.

  “Dratted girl!” He unstopped the ornate flask and took a long draw. Stopped, breathed, wiped his mouth and took another long draw. With a deep sigh, he sat on the large trunk of a fallen tree.

  “That’s why the fire ate ye.” He pointed an accusing finger at her and his voice rose. “That’s why, ever time I look at ye, those eyes are different.”

  Thom stepped in. “That’s right, Durlag.” He glanced back at her. “Mey’s dragon blood is surfacing and there are things about her that are changing. But she is still the same person she has always been.” He was trying to reassure the dwarf, but Mey also heard the tone of persuasion in his voice. Looking to his hands, she spotted the glint of the gemstone he held. A mistake, she thought. Dwarves resisted magic and Thom’s attempt to ensourcel Durlag was bound to backfire.

  Sure enough, the next thing she heard was Durlag’s roar of discovery. “Ye’re workin’ magic on me?” he yelled at the mage. “Ye don’t think I can decide for meself whether or not I intend to follow the girl?” He snatched the gem from Thom’s hand, and holding it close so Thom could watch, crushed it in his palm.

  “What are you doing!” Thom said frantically, scrabbling for the bits of what was now just another pretty rock. “It was my last rubinite!”

  “Humpf,” Durlag snorted. “Use magic on me, will you? Ye’re lucky ye didn’t find yerself broken and ground into the dirt! I won’t be treated in such a way. I am over 100 years your elder, lad!”

  Before Thom could retort, Mey stepped between the two, leading Durlag off to one side. “I understand your apprehension. Your clan was mighty and was shamed and brought down by a dragon. But, that wasn’t me, Durlag. The dragon you faced was an evil representation of what dragons are meant to be.”

  Durlag eyed her suspiciously. He probably thought her words were a trick as well. After all, dragons had a natural persuasion, Thom had told her. But she was honest and sincere. She liked the dwarf and did not want, in any way, for harm to come to him.

  “It ain’t natural,” Durlag grumbled, kicking a piece of the red stone in Thom’s direction. “I knowed something was different in ye, but I never imagined…this!”

  Suddenly she wanted, no, needed his acceptance. “Durlag, listen to me; I would never betray you. I would never seek to control you or take away your free will. I am not that type of person.”

  “But ye’ll swipe me drink when I’m not lookin’!” A glint came to his eye and he smiled a little. “Don’t ye know better, lass? A dwarf’s drink is his life!” His chuckles died down and he looked at her, squinting to impart his seriousness to her. “I pledged me axe to ye, girl. I will see this journey to its end. Me word means something.” He took a drink from his flask. “But ye try swipin’ anythin’ from me again and ye’ll find yer fingers in the same shape as that durned mage’s stone! I won’t have it!”

  Mey’s smile spread across her face and touched her eyes. “I would expect no less, sir.” He nodded at her and continued off.

  Bob put his arm around her shoulders. “I do believe he likes you.” His laugh was musical and her smile widened. “That is no easy feat.”

  “I think he likes all of us.” She watched him grumble to himself as he found a spot that he could sit and drink. He accepted her but his distrust of dragons ran deep. That was something altogether different that he would have to make his peace with. She was not like those dragons who held his clan captive. She did what she had to do to get along in this world, but she could never imagine holding an entire city captive to do it.

  Mey sighed and turned back to the others. Her glance briefly fell on Thom and then slid over to Elerbee. All other eyes moved to him as well. The stares obviously caught him off guard.

  Looking one to the other, he said, “What?”

  “You knew me for what I was.” Moving to stand in front of him, Mey took on an accusatory tone.

  “I – I…” he stammered. He rubbed his hands on his immaculate robe.

  “How did you know?” she persisted.

  “I didn’t know it was you…at first. I only knew there was someone. I was sent...” He shut his mouth, pursing his lips together tightly.

  Mey narrowed her eyes and advanced on him. “Sent?”

  Elerbee backed up a step and put his hands out in front of him. The shimmer of magic immediately came up around him. “I am a priest! I am here to see your quest finished to the end! There are those of us who don’t believe as our brethren.”

  Mey felt hot rage boiling in her middle, starting to fill her limbs.

  Thom’s voice was in her ear. “Breathe. Tell it to stay at bay.”

  Concentrating on the air flowing into and out of her lungs, she closed her eyes and thought, I am in control here. I am not angry. She opened her eyes and felt her breath slowing and the heat receding.

  Elerbee let out a gasp. “You’re eyes…” he began. His own were wide with surprise.

  Panic almost won the moment over, but she managed to keep her breathing even. “What? What about my eyes?” She turned to Thom. “What’s happening?”

  “Calm, Mey. Stay calm! It’s nothing that hasn’t been happening all
along.” Mey saw him glance sharply at Elerbee. They were keeping something from her! She hadn’t thought of it before and she wasn’t a very vain person so she had not sought out her reflection. Now she desperately searched around her for any source that would reveal her own face.

  The small stream where she had cleaned her weapons was close. She turned and headed that direction. Dropping down by the clear waters, she looked in. Staring back at her were eyes she didn’t recognize; the pupils elongated and silver, like a liquid lake flowing through the green, ever moving, shimmering. A small sound escaped her. Strangely, it was not frightening. Almost beautiful. Were these her eyes? Reaching out to touch the reflection, the image broke as her fingers brushed the water.

  “Mey?” Thom’s timid question caused her to turn.

  “Have they stayed this way? You said it’s been happening all along.”

  “No.” He dropped down next to her. “They change when your dragon side starts to emerge. Each time, a bit of silver seems to stay.” He gestured at the water now. “There. Now look.”

  She turned once again to the stream. “Oh,” she breathed. These eyes were familiar; the pupils round, sitting amongst the forest green of which she was accustomed. There were small silver streaks, however, running through the usual color. Her thoughts stayed there only a moment before she turned back to Elerbee.

  “You don’t get off the hook that easy.” She narrowed her eyes. “Talk, priest.”

  Nervously picking invisible lint from his pristine robes, Elerbee said, “I didn’t happen to be in that well by accident.” He kept his eyes down. “I was transported there…by a spell.”

  “By whom?” Mey pressed.

  “Apparently an idiot apprentice mage who swore he had been to that area before.” His voice turned quieter, “Or maybe it was purposefully done…he never liked me anyway…”

  “Elerbee.” The warning in Thom’s voice was evident.

  “Oh, right. Thom knows that most of the priests on Cantor are against dragons returning to our world. They are afraid. But, there are some of us who believe wholeheartedly that they should reenter our world.” He grew more excited as he spoke and he knelt in front of Mey.

 

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