Origins

by Lindsay Buroker

  “No dragon caves up here,” came a distant call from Duck, the person highest up the slope.

  “No caves here,” Leftie added, the next highest person. He had been limping all afternoon, but he hid it every time Rysha glanced in his direction.

  She looked down to see if she needed to shout her status or if Trip, the next person after her, had heard.

  “Nothing,” Trip called to Kaika, who said something similar to Blazer, the farthest person down the slope.

  Even though they hadn’t yet come out of the circled area on the ancient map, Blazer had ordered the staggered formation and for everyone to keep their eyes open. Rysha supposed it was possible that a cave entrance might be within the magic dead zone with a passage leading underground and to an area unaffected by it, but she calculated that they had another three miles to walk before they needed to worry about serious searching. Besides, as soon as Trip had access to his power and he could communicate with the soulblades again, they would have greater resources than six sets of eyes to put into the search.

  She was tempted to pick a route closer to Trip so she could ask whether any of his senses had returned. At the edges, the magic dead zone had seemed less extreme, at least according to Trip. It hadn’t been until they’d reached the quarry that he’d lost all of his power. She was also tempted to say something to squelch his sword reprogramming idea.

  More than once, she’d caught him staring thoughtfully down the mountain at Blazer. More specifically, at the box Blazer carried. Did he think he might study that ingot and learn some secret that would help with Dorfindral?

  Rugged terrain made Rysha veer downslope to get around it, and she took the opportunity to head toward him. Leftie and Duck disappeared from her sight briefly, but she trusted they wouldn’t for long. The terrain of the mountain was an obstacle at times, but there was little foliage to impede their sight.

  “Trip?” Rysha jogged down to join him, her pack bouncing on her shoulders.

  “Yes?” He waited for her, and then they resumed walking.

  “I wanted to make sure—I mean, I want to make my feelings known to you.”

  “Feelings about… hookball?”

  She saw the wariness in his eyes and could tell he didn’t want to discuss the previous night. That was fine. She didn’t want to discuss it, either, since it made her uncomfortable. If they hadn’t been on this mission together, she would have found reasons to avoid talking to him for a few weeks.

  “Leftie has already let me know my feelings on that subject,” she said. “Apparently, I love it.”

  “Have you gone to a match?”

  “I haven’t. And I never played as a kid. It’s a team sport, and my brothers and I generally chose games we could play with just the four of us. It was a long walk to the neighbors’ houses to round up more kids.”

  “I’ve heard living in castles on vast estates is isolating.”

  “It’s a manor.” She lifted a hand to swat him, but lowered it again. It was easy to fall back into joking with him, but she didn’t want him to think… oh, she didn’t know. She wanted to forgive him, but she wasn’t about to forget that. Or let it happen again. That made what she’d come to say depressing, but given what she’d read, she couldn’t say anything else. “I came to tell you that I think you should give up on the idea of reprogramming the swords.”

  Trip looked down the slope toward Blazer and that box again. “Because of the mention of a sacrifice?”

  “Because it very specifically said the mage that came to imbue the swords would be sacrificing himself.”

  “But you also said you couldn’t read all the words. Isn’t it possible you misinterpreted that?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Maybe—”

  “I also don’t think you should assume you can figure something out that the mages back then couldn’t, like how to do it without killing yourself. Because the people back then were every bit as powerful as you, at least some of them. And if it could have been done… Well, I’m sure they tried not to let their own sorcerers kill themselves. From what I’ve read, the Referatu were always known as a fair-minded and progressive people. They weren’t the types to simply sacrifice their members for some greater good, not typically. With the soulblades, it was always the choice of the mage to go into the blade, usually only when the end was imminent.”

  “I wasn’t thinking that I could do something those mages couldn’t,” Trip said, “just that it might be possible to do one sword without killing myself. There’s only one I truly care about reprogramming.” He offered her a lopsided smile.

  “I appreciate you wanting to do that, but I don’t want you to take the risk. In fact, I forbid it.”

  “You forbid it? Lieutenants aren’t supposed to forbid captains. It’s against regulations.”

  “I looked up the chapaharii weapons-carrying regulations. Forbidding is allowed between wielders and non-wielders.”

  “Really?”

  Rysha sighed. “No, but I still forbid it.”

  “I will keep your wishes in mind.”

  “That’s not a search pattern, Ravenwood,” Kaika yelled up, making a shooing motion toward her.

  Sighing again, Rysha angled back up the slope to her spot between Leftie and Trip. She’d said what she needed to say and hoped it would make a difference to him. She also hoped he couldn’t do anything unless she handed the sword over to him while they were standing in front of a forge. Because she vowed never to do that.

  Unfortunately, he kept gazing thoughtfully at Blazer’s box.

  • • • • •

  I can’t believe you used me as a chisel, Jaxi said, the first words that popped into Trip’s head as the group moved out of the magic dead zone. Me! That’s a completely improper use for a soulblade. Besides, you’ve got that hard-hilted stick on your other hip.

  It wasn’t appropriate to use you, but poking Azarwrath into rocks would be acceptable?

  Absolutely. Maybe it would help adjust his old-fashioned way of thinking.

  Pardon me, Azarwrath said, but my way of thinking is civilized. Modern notions are appalling.

  What’s appalling is that you weren’t hanged for your backward ideas decades before you put yourself in that sword.

  “We’ve come out of the dead zone,” Trip called down to Kaika.

  Blazer had paused to peer into a hole in the rocks farther down the slope.

  “You’ve regained your powers?” Kaika yelled back up.

  “I’m not sure, but I’ve regained having soulblades arguing in my head.”

  “Is that as delightful as it sounds?”

  “Maybe even more so.”

  Azarwrath made a throat-clearing sound in his mind as Kaika turned to relay the message to Blazer.

  Someone got phlegmy during his nap, Jaxi said. I hear that happens with old, backward men.

  Is that what it seemed like to you two? Trip asked, hoping to stop further arguing. You seemed to fall asleep?

  Indeed, Azarwrath said. A most unsettling experience. The last thing I remember is your flier’s lamp having energy fluctuations.

  We prefer to call it a power crystal, Trip said.

  That doesn’t mean it’s not still a lamp, Jaxi said. I lost consciousness a little later. I remember drifting in and out and talking to you once after we landed. And then nothing, except brief, groggy awareness of being used as a chisel, ahem. I’d forgotten what falling asleep felt like. It was weird. I remember being afraid I’d never wake up again. I’m glad you took us out of that dreadful place.

  Did you not also fall asleep, Telryn?

  No, but the closer we got to the center of the magic dead zone, the less I was able to use my power or even sense anything around me. Trip wished he hadn’t been able to use any of his power the night at the spring. I hadn’t realized how much I’d come to rely on those extra senses.

  What are we doing now? Azarwrath asked. Still seeking your sire?

  Yes. Remembering t
hat the soulblades didn’t seem to be able to read his thoughts anymore, Trip did his best to open his bank vault door and share the day’s events with them.

  That’s interesting, Jaxi thought. I am Referatu through and through, and I don’t remember ever hearing about a mining quarry on this continent or anyone even traveling over here. The origins of the swords—or the ore—must have been forgotten by my time.

  A sorcerer visiting the area would not have wandered in without good reason, Azarwrath said. Who knows what prolonged exposure does to the brain?

  Trip touched his head, wondering if he’d risked his brain by poking that ingot and soaking up the air of the quarry.

  By any chance, does either of you sense any dragons? he asked to distract himself.

  No, Jaxi said. Do you? You’ve been sensing them before either of us.

  I’m not sure I could sense rust on my own pommel right now, Azarwrath put in. I feel groggy after that enforced sleep.

  Maybe you’re groggy because you’re getting senile, Jaxi suggested.

  I’m venerable, not senile.

  You’re fifteen hundred years old.

  Are you not also hundreds of years old?

  A mere six hundred, Jaxi said. Young and sprightly in comparison to you.

  Azarwrath sighed.

  Trip hadn’t sensed any dragons yet, but he stretched out with his mind again, doing a more purposeful search. Not paying much attention to his immediate surroundings, he almost tripped over a hole right in front of him. Alas, it was only a dip in the rocks, not the entrance to a dragon cave.

  I sense lizards, birds, and more lizards, Jaxi said. That’s it.

  I also sense larger predators sleeping in dens in the rocks, Azarwrath said, but they are not deep dens, and the animals are furred rather than scaled.

  Trip sensed those things also. But nothing more. Would he sense a dragon that was hibernating or inside a stasis chamber?

  He tried to send his awareness deeper into the mountain, into the stone and the earth far below the surface. The dragon might not be down there, but if he could sense open tunnels or chambers or perhaps some magical artifact or treasure, that could guide him in the right direction. He was certain he’d heard stories of some dragons that hoarded treasures, and of brave, or maybe suicidal, humans that sneaked in to steal them while they slept. But maybe those were just fairy tales.

  Do dragons hibernate with artifacts? he asked the soulblades, assuming they knew more about the topic. He could also climb up the slope to ask Rysha. Except Blazer and Kaika might break them up again.

  Hibernate with artifacts? Jaxi asked. Like what, a magical security blanket?

  I’m just hoping that if I can’t find Agarrenon Shivar specifically, maybe I can find something that belongs to him. Some sign that he was here. Or is here and is hibernating in a stasis chamber. You said Phelistoth was found in such a chamber, right?

  Yes, but Sardelle and I sensed him in it from miles and miles away. Admittedly, the Cofah had breached it, and he was in and out of consciousness. It probably wasn’t the same as a dragon fully inside a chamber and in a magical hibernation. Jaxi paused and hummed a thoughtful tune. When Sardelle was in a Referatu stasis chamber for three hundred years, I was able to sense her, but she was relatively close to me. I might have struggled to sense her from dozens of miles away. Her aura was definitely diminished while she hibernated. And she didn’t have a magical security blanket to mark the spot.

  You are indeed young and sprightly, Azarwrath said, and foolish. I do not know why Telryn agreed to bring you along on another mission.

  Because he’s also young, and he didn’t want only a grumpy old man for company. Further, Sardelle told him to bring me after I volunteered to dispose of a dirty diaper by incinerating it. I don’t know why. If you had seen the mess, you would know my suggestion wasn’t unreasonable.

  Were you going to remove the diaper from the baby before incinerating it?

  That wouldn’t have been necessary. I have pinpoint precision.

  I’m beginning to see why Sardelle suggested you come, Trip replied, still searching within the mountain.

  Yes, she knew you would need my wisdom on your journey.

  Trip halted, his mind brushing against something other than solid rock.

  I found a chamber or cavern down there. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the spot. It’s deep down. Can you feel it?

  Not yet, Jaxi said.

  Azarwrath didn’t respond, but Trip was aware of him also stretching out with his senses. Trip hadn’t noticed that he had the ability to sense the soulblades using their magic before, at least such subtle magic. He’d definitely been aware of them hurling lightning bolts and fireballs.

  I see now, Azarwrath said. A large cavern, yes, with several miles of tunnel meandering around and eventually leading to it. A short flight but a long walk. There are smaller caverns along the way, and I also sense an underground lake. The water source may be natural, but I believe the tunnel was hollowed out by magic long ago. Some of it remains. That is what you sensed, Telryn.

  Trip nodded. That seemed right. Now he needed to figure out how to access that tunnel from the mountainside above.

  I think there are some artifacts in there too, Jaxi added, her tone growing excited. I’ve found the spot, and I sense… I’m not sure, but they aren’t blankets.

  The contents are muddled, aren’t they? Azarwrath asked.

  They are. Even more so than with the dragon-rider outpost. If anyone or anything lives down there, I can’t sense it from here. I wonder if the dragon, or whoever hollowed the place out, deliberately camouflaged it so outsiders wouldn’t find his lair.

  Trip also couldn’t sense what was inside the large cavern at the end of the tunnel, but he didn’t know if that was because of magical camouflage or simply because of the distance and all the rock between here and there. Even if his group found an entrance that led into the tunnel, it would be, as Azarwrath had said, a long walk to the chamber. No doubt, a dragon could have zipped across the miles in minutes. Too bad Bhrava Saruth and Shulina Arya had objected to this adventure.

  You should have told them your papa’s cavern was outside of the dead zone, Jaxi said.

  I didn’t know it was any more than you did.

  Yes, but you could have lied.

  Lying to dragons seems like a strategy that could backfire. Trip, still examining the inside of the mountain with his senses, spotted something and paused. Does that tunnel lead to the surface? He shared the location with the soulblades.

  Are you referring to the tunnel behind all that collapsed rubble? Jaxi asked.

  Yes.

  Maybe. It looks like it would be hard for you to get through.

  We’ll just have to move some rocks around.

  “Yo, Sidetrip, you’re falling behind!” came a distant yell from Blazer.

  She had finished investigating that hole and caught up with and passed Trip. Everyone had passed him.

  “I’ve found a magical cavern inside the mountain,” he yelled back. “And an entrance!”

  “Well, get up here and show us. The king isn’t paying you to work on your tan.”

  That woman is tyrannical, Azarwrath observed. She would have made a poor healer.

  Exactly why women should be allowed to learn battle magic or become soldiers if they want, Jaxi said.

  No man wishes to see a woman slain on the battlefield, her eyes dead of life, her body cut open with her entrails exposed. A woman’s place is in the home or the healers’ tent.

  Or anywhere else she wishes, ideally with her entrails neatly stored on the inside of her body. You’re a ghoul, Azzy.

  Aware of Blazer waving impatiently, Trip ignored the arguing soulblades and hurried to catch up. The realization that they were getting close to finding out, one way or another, where his sire was made dragonlings flutter around in his stomach.

  Would anything good truly come of this quest? It had been his idea to go on it. Whatever th
e outcome was, he would have nobody but himself to blame for it.

  18

  “You call this an entrance?” Blazer frowned over at Trip and pointed at what might once have been a cave opening but was now filled with rocks from top to bottom. It reminded Rysha of the cliff in front of the outpost, the caved-in tunnel and ledge where dragons and their riders had once taken off. “I think young officers today should receive dictionaries as well as training manuals when they enter the academy. They’re not very articulate or educated.”

  Rysha squinted at her, wondering if she would get in trouble for flicking that cigar out of her mouth. Blazer’s mood had improved after Trip found the ingot and map, but only slightly. She didn’t seem to be enjoying this mission. Probably because her flier was broken, and she didn’t have a plethora of historical and culturally significant finds to take home and study. It was all Rysha could do to keep from caressing her pack full of rubbings.

  “It’s only blocked for about twenty meters,” Trip said. “I can sense a passageway beyond the boulders, one that was hollowed out long ago by magic. Some miles into the mountain and at the end of the tunnel, there’s a cavern, its contents obscured by magic that lingers today. I believe that cavern is what we seek.”

  “Only blocked for twenty meters. Some miles into the mountain.” Blazer shifted her cigar from one side of her mouth to the other, the inner end of it noticeably mashed. Weren’t cigars supposed to be gently held in the mouth instead of chewed on? “Leave it to a sorcerer to say those things like they’re insignificant.”

  “Aw, stop your grousing,” Kaika said, elbowing Blazer before clambering up the rocky slope toward the cave-in. “What’s the matter? Nobody has been canoodling with you on this mission?”