Mey felt numb. Each breath seemed to stick in her throat and she had to force each one out. “I turned into a dragon?”
They had stopped walking altogether now. She looked at each of them in turn as they nodded.
“And now ye’ve changed some more,” Durlag put in. “Yer hair, it’s streaked with that purply-black color and yer eyes…” He shuddered and didn’t continue.
Her knees felt weak, like they wouldn’t be able to hold her much longer. Finding a large boulder, she sank down to it with a sigh.
“I could hear Makagesh urging me to let go,” she whispered. “The power felt so massive, like I would split in two if I didn’t let it out. I knew I had to destroy the spirits. That was the only thought in my mind. Then I felt the warmth and the sensation of leaving myself and looking down on what was happening.” She lifted her trembling hands to her face.
Bob knelt before her. “Meylaran, your mother gave you a gift. You should not be afraid to use it. It makes you more precious than anyone else in this world. And you controlled it magnificently.”
Looking up questioningly at her uncle, Mey said, “What do you mean?”
“The power you unleashed could have been strong enough to destroy everything around you for miles. A dragon’s voice can create or end life as it desires. You focused yours only on the immediate threat – the spirits. It would have been very easy to kill all of us as well. You showed great control.” His smile was full of pride.
The thought of ending life at a whim did nothing to quell her fear. It was starting to sink in just how powerful dragons had been and would be again. Almost godlike if you thought about it. No wonder people had become afraid of them. They held everyone’s life in the balance. Was she doing the right thing, bringing that back into the world? There were races that didn’t want them here; the priests of Yenoh, for sure, thought it was a bad idea.
This was about more than just her. “Uncle, what happens to the people if I release the dragons and they decide to take revenge instead of pity?”
The silence that followed sickened her. The fate of the world lay with her decisions and hers alone.
Preparations for camp went on around her. She volunteered for whatever watch they would put her on, she wouldn’t sleep this night anyway. She moved to Thom’s side. He groaned and tossed his head. Reaching a hand to his forehead, she smoothed the dark curls away.
He quieted at her touch. She slid her other hand into his cold, pale one. “We’ll get you help,” she said to him quietly. “I won’t let you go.”
**********
The wight was coming for Mey. He couldn’t let that happen. She has to stay safe. He uttered a few words that had him at her side in an instant. Exhausted though he was, he still had a few spells left to him. Thom knew his strength was fading, but he used one of the more powerful spells anyway. He couldn’t let anything happen to her, she was his responsibility.
As the tiny bolts of electricity shot from his fingertips into the wight, it let out a horrific wail. The spell had hurt it, he could see the tiny holes through the creature’s chest. But it’s wailing response was deafening. Thom felt as though he were nailed in place. He couldn’t move.
Sinking to his knees, his thoughts lingered only on Mey. She had to make it to Sorga, and beyond to the Heartstone so she could mend the statue. They were so close. But the thought of leaving her bothered him the most.
An icy chill seared his heart and he looked down. The wight’s arm was protruding from his chest. He tried to take a breath but it caught in his throat. Numbness crawled out from the fingers gripping his heart and flowed outward to the rest of his body. Darkness tugged at the edges of his sight and he knew he was dying.
I won’t leave her. This thought played over and over in his mind as the darkness finally overcame him and he fell to the ground. Swirls of color snaked behind his closed eyelids.
One pinpoint of light hovered in the center. It was so far away, it would be impossible to reach it, but he knew he had to. He concentrated on that light and tried to move forward.
As if granting his wish, light was all around him. He had thought about going toward that light and then, there it was. He had read about the two planes of existence but actually experiencing them both was beyond comprehension. His body lie on the physical plane, and now, his mind had wandered into the spiritual plane. It made perfect sense, really.
The wight was not of the physical plane. When it struck him, it set him on a journey into the spiritual plane. He would become an incorporeal being just like those creatures they battled. As this thought sank in, panic welled. He didn’t want to be a creature of spirit! You have to fight this, he told himself. The panic rose steadily from his stomach to his throat, making it hard to breathe. Frantically searching around him for any sign of what he should do, he stumbled and fell to his knees.
“Don’t be frightened.” The voice startled Thom and he froze.
A feeling of calm washed over him like warm water. He could feel it seep into his pores and wash through his body. He took a deep breath and let it out in an audible sigh.
“There,” the voice continued, “that’s better. Now you do not feel so chaotic.”
Afraid at what he might find when he looked up, Thom kept his eyes on the ground beneath him. He was curious, however, and it seemed that his curiosity was winning this one. The voice was male and full of authority. Was this a god? If he looked upon a god did that mean he would certainly die? He warred with himself and these questions, but the scholar in him had to know.
He let his eyes swing upward. There was nothing in front of him but light. Slowly, he looked to his left and then to his right. He tensed again; it must be behind him.
Steeling his resolve, he turned. Nothing. The only thing around him was the bright light. “Who are you?” he called out.
“A being forced to live between the planes of existence.”
“Why won’t you let me see you?”
“I’m not sure you’re quite ready for that.” A shuffling sound came from his left and Thom turned quickly. He only caught a glimpse of something that shimmered and then vanished from view.
“I am not interested in your games,” he called out, getting to his feet. “Reveal yourself! I assure you, I am a scholar, I can handle whatever it is you have to tell me.”
When no answer was forthcoming, Thom tried another approach. “Are you a god here to tell me that I am dying?”
Laughter boomed all around him so loud he had to raise his hands to his ears. “You are a scholar, are you? Well, scholar, do you know where you are?”
“I am fairly certain I am passing into the spiritual plane. I was wounded by a wight. But I will do whatever I can in my power not to let that happen.”
“Yes, I feel that about you. You’re a very determined creature.”
Cool wind gusted around him and he had to wrap his arms around himself to guard against the chill. He could hear what sounded like buffeting wings, as if a giant bird was alighting. As the ground shook, the air before him shimmered and sparkled. An image formed, vanished and reformed several times. A large image. Then as if the air itself were melting away, the image stayed.
Its head cocked to the side, an enormous dragon stood before him. Thom’s mouth hung open and his mind felt blank. The creature had to be at least thirty feet tall. The scales that covered it shone with golden brilliance. It had a tail that curled behind it, ending in a barbed point. The talons on its forelegs were as large as a man. It snaked its head down to look Thom straight in the eye. Oh, it’s eyes! They were rosy pink and they glittered just as a handful of crystals in the sunlight. It blinked.
The creature seemed to be scrutinizing him. Sizing him up with those amazing, clear eyes. Thom was nailed in place, he dare not move a muscle. After a moment, the dragon seemed satisfied and sat back on his haunches. It might as well have been a god for all the awe Thom felt at this moment. His legs felt weak beneath him and his heart thundered within his chest as
though it would burst through.
“You – you are a dragon,” he managed as he sank down to his knees again.
The dragon chuckled. “Yes, I am. My name is Yndaryandrus. You can call me Yndar.”
Thom took a seated position right where he had been standing. “What are you doing here, in this place between planes?”
“It’s my home,” Yndar said simply. “Tell me, has it become customary for humans not to reveal their names once another creature has done so?”
“Oh, no, I am sorry. I am Thomas Uray, Mage of the Circle. You can call me Thom,” he added almost as an afterthought.
“A Mage? Of the Circle?” Yndar seemed taken aback by this revelation.
“Yes,” Thom said. “I was born in Val and raised to hone my gifts. My life’s work has been to locate the one that the prophecy promised would bring dragons back to our world.”
Thom wasn’t sure if dragons could be surprised, but Yndar certainly seemed to be shocked by his revelation about his life’s work. The dragon’s eyes had grown wide and he ruffed his leathery wings once before settling them back in place.
Yndar stared at Thom for long moments. Thom was uncomfortable under the scrutiny. Just as he was beginning to fidget, the dragon spoke. “How does the world fare without us, Mage Thom?”
“Not well, I’m afraid. The balance that dragons kept while on Cantor is failing. The Ruling Council now leans heavily to the side of the priests. All but one of the divine factions are intent to impose new laws over the lands.”
“New laws?” Yndar roared. “The priests have always been hungry for power and could not stand that we held it and not they!”
“The Provicary Council has become inundated with priests, especially those of Yenoh. While Sirrahn priests remain in favor of the dragons’ return. Irohna has always been neutral but somehow the priests of Yehoh have been able to gain their support in trying to stop that from happening. Each race has a priestly representative on the Council. The laws and treaties that were drawn up in the time of dragons are being overruled and amended to fit the priests’ whims.”
A low growl sounded from Yndar as Thom told him the history of the ruling Council of Cantor since the departure of dragons.
“They must be stopped!” Yndar’s eyes flashed with anger.
“It is the Yenohan and Irhonan sects of priests who push for the take-over. The Sirrahns work diligently against the others, but there are not enough of them these days to make a difference.” Thom shook his head. There were far too few priests who served the gods of good.
Abruptly, Yndar stood, nearly knocking Thom backward. He paced back and forth, growling through clenched jaws. “We need a way back! When the Keeper tore the Idylic, she eradicated any chance of us returning.”
Thom stood. “But she didn’t! You must remember one of your kin stayed behind. She chose to stay in mortal form.”
Stopping his pacing, Yndar turned to Thom. “Tanahil,” he whispered. “Yes, she stayed with her elven lover.”
“They had a child.”
Yndar smiled. “Good for her. Is she still with this elf? How does she fare?”
“She died in childbirth.” Thom saw the light in Yndar’s eyes darken, so he hastily added, “But her child lives. She is the one the prophecy promised could bring you back; all of you.”
“Prophecy?” That had gotten his attention.
“Yes, at the time when the dragons left Cantor, the Head of the Mage’s Circle was Naoj D’yob. He foresaw that Tanahil would have a child. He left a prophecy that told us that one day, there would be a descendant who could bring back the dragons.”
Hope sparked behind the rose-colored eyes. Thom could see that Yndar was thinking of being back home. Back where there was more than just this endless, stark light. Hundreds of years spent here would drive a lesser mind insane.
“I have found her, you know.”
“Who?” Yndar asked.
“The Descendant. The one who can free you and bring you back to the world.”
The dragon maneuvered itself to look right in Thom’s eyes. “But you are stuck here just as I, mage.” Yndar narrowed his eyes. “How do you propose we get to this Descendant?”
He hadn’t thought about that. It took him off guard. As much as he wanted to fight what was happening to him, so much depended on what they were doing to save him on the physical plane. He would deny death as long as his mind would allow, of course, but if they couldn’t save his body, well, then his fight was lost.
“We’ll think of something,” Thom said quietly. His heart ached again when he thought of Mey alone on her journey. He knew he had to get back if for nothing else but to see her face again. To wrap his arms around her, pull her close and hold her. Things he wanted to do the whole time but had restrained himself from doing for fear of…fear of what? His Master? The Mage’s Circle certainly would frown on him taking a personal interest in her, but what, ultimately, could they do to him?
They could banish him from Val and from the home he had always known. They could deny him the right to practice magic legally. He could become a rouge mage, of course, like so many who had trouble following rules did. Would he do all this for her? Yes, he would.
“Mey will find a way to bring me back so that I can help her bring you and all your kind back to the world.”
“And while we wait, mage, tell me of what has happened in the world and of this Descendant.” The large body shook the ground as the dragon lay itself down in front of Thom, settling in comfortably to await stories of a place that had largely forgotten him.
Thom sat cross-legged in front of Yndar. He began by filling the dragon in on more of the political upheavals the priests had facilitated over the years. When he spoke of Mey and the journey they were on, Yndar’s interest increased and he asked many questions.
“So she is half-elven? That makes for an interesting mix,” Yndar commented. “Dragons, of course, make the most beautiful mortals, whichever race they chose to manifest as.”
“They certainly do.” Thom’s thoughts were on Mey. Her face, her smile, the exotic look her slight elven features gave her.
“Hmmm, you are in love with her.”
“What? No, I…what gives you that impression?”
“It is written all over your face when you speak of her.” Yndar shrugged. “You could do worse than a dragon, I suppose.”
“But, I am only on this journey to see her safely to the Idylic, to mend it and save our world from falling to the priests who would ultimately destroy it.”
“Now, that sounded rehearsed.” Yndar rolled over to his side and stretched his massive body to a more comfortable position. “Why lie to me, mage? After all, you may never leave this place. Lies do you no good here.”
He did love her, he knew that within himself but he had not admitted it outwardly. To do that would mean he was willing to give up the life he had always known. To give up his position with the Circle and be willing to become rogue. Everything he was would change. He hadn’t been ready. But if he never left this place, it wouldn’t matter, would it?
Closing his eyes, he thought of her. His mind went always to the kiss they shared. That kiss had solidified any feelings he may have been doubtful about. It had broken past any misgivings and apprehensions about who he was or what his purpose in this life was. His purpose was loving her, being with her, giving her everything he could offer of himself.
Opening his eyes, he studied the golden creature before him. Thom let out a long, cleansing sigh.
“You are right, Yndar,” he said, smiling. “I love her.”
FIFTEEN
Sorga had been in upheaval for quite some time according to the priests still residing in the temple of Sirrah. The group would be allowed to stay as long as they didn’t overstep the boundaries set by the Yenohan priests. Their power was rooted deeply in Sorga and the people followed them blindly with the promise of living forever with riches beyond imagining.
Ushering them inside, the
priests took Thom and carried him to a large room at the back of the temple. There were beds along one wall but none of them occupied. Mey watched as they laid him out and began removing his belongings. His pouches were placed reverently on a stone table, along with a small dagger that hung from his belt. Funny, she had never noticed a weapon on his person.
“Elerbee,” Mey said quietly, “what are they doing?”
“Removing his magical elements.” Elerbee laid a comforting hand on her arm. “They place them on the stone to ground them to the earth. Interference from their arcane power makes it harder for the priests to do their work.”
A boy, dressed in plain wool robes with the symbol of Sirrah stitched on the left breast, timidly approached. “Pardon,” he began. “We have prepared a place for you. Please, follow me.”
Mey hesitated, looking back at Thom. He looked so fragile lying there, pale and still. His thrashing had ceased sometime on the road to Sorga but Mey couldn’t pinpoint when that had been. She had stayed by his side the whole time but her thoughts were scattered.
“He’s in good hands,” Elerbee assured her.
Swallowing hard and nodding, Mey followed the others. Elerbee walked beside her and she could feel his calming aura reaching out to cover her.
The boy showed them to a large room. It was plain, just like everything else in this temple; there were three cots along the back wall and basins of fresh, clear water next to each.
“I’m sorry it’s not more,” the boy said. “But you can wash the dust of the road away and rest. There’s plenty of food in the kitchens. We will bring you something to eat.”
The boy turned to Mey, wide eyes the only thing giving away his shock at her appearance, and continued, “Madame, if you will follow me, we have quarters prepared for you as well.” He hurried ahead of her.
Reborn (The Dragons of Cantor Book 1) Page 15
