“Does Alslana always choose from orphans?” I asked.
“It’s not uncommon, but neither is it a requirement. The only requirement is dedication and the necessary sacrifice. Something one can say for any profession they wish to master.”
I hoisted myself up. “Then I’ll leave you to your profession, seer. By noon tomorrow I hope to be far away enough to give your vocation more clarity.”
“My sight may be compromised, but I hope you can take one piece of advice I do have for you. Remember, for the sake of your flame, that all fire carries as much potential for rebirth as it does for destruction. Whether emitted by the sun, spewed from the depths of Orda, or wielded by a caster or phoenix, life follows their blaze.”
“Oh!” said Clarissa, who was still sitting. “Say something about water!”
I did not think it possible, but the seer smiled. It was brief and only spanned a third of his thin lips, but he did.
“To be water is to comprehend its reach and flexibility. Below the ocean’s waves lie entire mountain ranges, drowned by events more patient than their formation. Ample water can douse a dragon’s flame and yet be delicate enough to float in the highest reaches of the heavens. Strike your fist into an ordinary pond and it will simply reshape itself, doing no damage. This is how you must fight with water if you desire to master it. Be patient and wait for your opponent to castoff their fury on to nothing, then strike.”
“Hear that, Mercer? I can douse your fancy dragon flame.”
“We can all dream, I suppose.” I stuck out my hand to take hers.
As I exited the room, Clarissa said, “Thank you, Seer Tascus. It was nice meeting you!” A few steps down, she said to me, “Too bad he couldn’t help you. He really wanted to, I think.”
“Or did you want him to tell you whether you’ll marry Ethan?”
“It can’t be both? By the way, are you really going to be gone by noon?”
“Assuming you don’t smell out another murderer, yes. Incidentally, you should get a reward for that.”
“I know, right? I can’t give all vampires a good name, or want to, but I hope being friends with a dragon knight and a few royals can at least get people to stop staring at me funny.”
“Tell me the next person that looks at you funny and I’ll give them a ‘rebirth’ they won’t soon forget.”
The next few hours had the whole palace in a tizzy. The guards weren’t satisfied that there wasn’t another Advent in their midst until Ghevont poked his staff into every room and waved it over every servant. Marcela followed him everywhere and bragged about her role in the Advent’s defeat to everyone who listened. At the suggestion of the queen—whose room was among the first the staff visited—my role came down to bolstering the poise of the guards and nobility by simply making my presence known during the scholar’s sweep.
Everything more or less became calm again when midnight bent both of a clock’s hands upward. A formal dinner had to be skipped, but servants brought me and others legs of fowl and pieces of pastries to keep us going. It was thus sleep that hit me the hardest. Well before I reached my fluffy bed, the queen requested the company of the dragon knight and his companions. To get to Beatrice, Clarissa and I had to slog back up to the room Odet rested in.
The door Captain Savoy opened for me led into a large sitting room of sorts. The many scenic paintings on the walls suggested it could be an art gallery, but I didn’t know enough about palace life to know whether the amount of paintings meant anything special. An awake Odet lied not on a bed, but was propped up by a mound of pillows on a big purple divan. A window no wider than a broadsword rose behind the princess. Beatrice sat on a wooden chair alongside her sister while Elisa slept on a small divan nearby. Gerard and Bell stood guard by the door.
“Is Master Rathmore not coming?” asked Beatrice.
“He preferred going back to study the Advent’s body. I told him it was fine.”
“Very well. Then you will tell him for me how grateful I am once again to you and your friends, Mercer. Lady Lorraine, I am most grateful to you this time.”
Clarissa sheepishly bowed. “Thank you, Your Grace. If you please, I don’t like the name ‘Lorraine.’ It’s not a family name I carry proudly, and it reminds me of my unpleasant past.”
“I see, forgive me. ‘Lady Clarissa’ will do, then?”
“As good as any.”
“Well, Lady Clarissa, I must admit that learning of your vampiric nature troubled me at first, just as the ‘Rathmore’ family name did. However, it’s clear such names and labels do not trouble Mercer, not when there’s an honorable character beneath.” Dotingly staring at her youngest sister, she said, “Elisa will thank you herself when she awakens. Gods, I cannot imagine what would have become of her if you did not…”
Beatrice turned to Odet, letting her unknotted hair screen the gushing emotion she tried conquering.
To give the queen time, I asked, “Are you feeling better, Odet?”
Extending her hand for her older sister to hold, she said, “I’m well, thank you. My heart mostly beats with regularity now.”
“Mostly?” said a muffled Beatrice.
“Oh! No, it beats perfectly now. I wasn’t lying before.” I imagined the queen’s eyes rolling as she let go of Odet’s hand. “Beatrice, I’m fine, truly. I’ll be more than ready to train again tomorrow afternoon, dragon knight.”
“Uh, about that,” I said.
“Hmph, you’re going, aren’t you?”
“As soon as I finish eating breakfast.”
She sighed. “I understand why you can’t loiter, but I wish we could train for at least another week.”
“I’d extend that to a year, but time has never been in favor of mortals, princess. Regardless, I will return to pick up Clarissa and take a rest for a couple of days. We can squeeze in a few sparring sessions then.”
“It’ll have to do. Perhaps Father will return while you’re gone.”
“I’ll summon Aranath outside the palace walls, so make sure Elisa is there.”
“Many people will be there, I suspect.”
“That reminds me,” said Beatrice. “I’ll have to send a message to Oclor that your presence is only dangerous to the Advent, not their armies. I wouldn’t want them to waste everyone’s time by confronting you with hostile intent.”
“A considerate precaution, but I think I’ll fly faster than the message.”
“Faster than any physical means, but there is an enchantment that links a Delivered here to its twin in our Brey Stor embassy. They allow elementary communication to take place between hundreds of miles.”
“Delivered, huh?”
“Yes. Do you know what they are?”
“I’ve recently become familiar. In any event, if you can give me the latest positions of their armies and fortifications, I’ll do my best to avoid flying near them.”
“Yes, I’ll have a map for you by morning. Still, try not to avoid every military position. If one or two armies happens to become rattled awake by a dragon’s roar, so be it.”
“I understand, Your Grace. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to get some sleep myself.”
“Of course. Please, don’t bother going all the way back to the guest tower. Choose any neighboring room you’d like. We’ll be here all night ourselves, so there will be servants nearby if you need anything.”
“I’ll do that, thank you.”
Chapter Seven
A morning thunderstorm delayed the start of my southern journey by a couple of hours. Once the downpour lightened to a regular shower, I pulled Marcela off Ghevont and brought the scholar outside the palace gates. Parasols, armor, and cloaks protected the onlookers from getting too weighed down by tepid rainwater.
Elisa wore a dainty silk cloak and held an undeniably adorable yellow parasol over her head. Standing in the field behind her, and endearing in their own Astor way, were her older sisters. They and dozens of nobles, servants, and guards watched as I summone
d Aranath and hooked myself onto the saddle. Odet, Elisa, and Marcela were granted a moment to touch the dragon’s wing before Ghevont patted Marcela’s head in his farewell, signaling our moment to depart. The rim of this same wing gave the scholar a quick lift to the saddle.
The girls backed away to a safe distance before I told Aranath to begin his parasol-bending flaps. Indicating that dragons knew something of showmanship, my partner responded to a thunder’s rumble with his own belly shaking boom as he flew off the ground. He didn’t even start ascending until we moved beyond the densest part of Western Ecrin, giving those who looked up in time a quick view of his reptilian underside. Reaching the sky had me forgetting Orda’s problems, for, in my mind, every problem in Orda sprouted on its surface and none could catch up with an aloft dragon.
This initial escape from the hustle and bustle of land-based creatures promised to last about a week. The end of five days would take us across Brey Stor and over the Blash Mountains, the mountain range that formed much of the southeastern border between Brey Stor and Oclor. Another day’s flight would bring us to the northern margins of Gremly, and if a flight to its center was possible, it would take two more days to reach it.
The end of our first three hundred and odd mile stretch brought us close to Brey Stor’s border. Aranath dropped his passengers off at the edge of a short cliff by the coast, his farseeing vision unable to distinguish anything other than shrubs and a smattering of trees in the region. Despite the isolation, I told Ghevont we would sleep in shifts, as one never knew what could crawl out from the sea or push up from the ground.
We collected clumps of bushes and saplings to place under our woolen blankets to create our crude bedding. For pillows we rolled up the winter mantles Aranath’s saddle carried in case we needed to make a detour to a colder climate or elevation. To discourage biting insects from getting too close, Ghevont used a fire spell to burn the section of grass we chose to rest on. Since neither of us were too tired yet, we walked along the cliff’s edge as we ate from our pouches of seeds, nuts, and dried fruits.
Several yards into this stroll, I asked Ghevont, “Did you learn anything about the strange growth on the Advent’s body?”
“Ah, yes, a few things of note…”
“Like?”
“Oh, sorry. Sometimes I can’t tell how much you want me to elaborate my answers.”
“This is one of those times.”
“Yes, of course. For one, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, the growth seems to be organic in nature. I cut several pieces of the unknown flesh and exposed them to different elemental conditions. For such small samples, they showed remarkable resistance to heat, cold, and shock spells, though freezing it made it vulnerable to blunt trauma. However, not long after midnight, the mossy matter began to blacken and crumble. The rest of the Advent’s flesh did not fare much better. It was like seeing the early stages of decomposition happen three or four times their natural speed.”
“Is it possible the organic matter belongs to the nismerdon themselves?”
“If Aranath’s description of a giant’s bark-like skin is accurate, then I’d say it’s not impossible. Indeed, it’s more than feasible to imagine a nismerdon planting a ‘living’ kind of representation of itself within the Advent to revive and empower her. Or perhaps it’s implanted in all Advent? Given that at least one member claims to be older than he looks, it’s likely prominent cultists have this imparted nismerdon gift inside of them. It might function as a life-lengthening supplement and temporarily stave off death from any wound short of decapitation.”
“Sounds a lot like corruption to me, if in a different form.”
“It does, doesn’t it? Yet it’s partly physical, and does not appear to elicit madness.”
“Or maybe it does, we simply haven’t seen it. We do only have one example to go on.”
“Quite right. At minimum, this enhancement must have a severe side effect or two on an organism not adapted to its power. Hmm… Maybe it’s more of a parasite that feeds on blood or prana itself? Feeding on prana could explain how the Advent absorbed her victim’s prana without causing a commotion. A prana absorption spell is normally a drawn-out technique that can be unkind to caster and target, but if the growth made it second nature to her, then the method could have become less labor intensive. Thus reducing all-around risk.”
“Sounds like a good assumption. Rejecting a power that can give one a longer life and prevent fatal wounds from killing you is tough to do. Makes me wonder why they bothered experimenting with corruption at all.”
“As you stated yourself, there’s only one lifeless example to draw conclusions from. The growth might be limited in availability, or be even less compatible to humans than corruption. Nevertheless, the implications to the biological fields are immeasurable! If I can get my hands on a longer lasting sample of this nismerdon growth…”
I let the scholar ramble in both senses of the word. I listened only to the point where his words acted closer to an incoherent lullaby than a lecture on alchemy.
We followed the coastline for another day before Aranath flew directly southward. Skirting the clusters of towns and forts became easier once the dragon’s wings flapped and glided for yet another day, taking us to central Brey Stor’s rich farmlands. This is when Aranath pushed us nearer our summoning limit.
By now I noticed a marked improvement over how efficiently I used the dragon crystals. It made my nerves shakier, but adding almost two hours beyond my comfort zone allowed for another hundred miles to be traversed. Training my flame against Ghevont’s wards eased the twitching in my hands, but I had been spoiled by Odet’s shield and wanted more practice with it.
The fourth day of winged travel was when we expected to see the nearest Oclor army. To be sure, early in the afternoon was when Aranath’s sight pierced the clear day to spot the anthill-sized encampment of Brey Sor and Alslana soldiers. Assuming Oclor’s base camp to be a few miles farther to the south, I had the dragon turn away from the mass of humanity and land on a hillock out of range from human senses. Just in case riling an army with a dragon’s presence turned out to be a bad idea, I wanted to rest for a few hours first.
Despite the break, summoning Aranath twice within half a day instantly made my head tingly and my fingers dizzy. Uh, I might have mixed that up. I told Ghevont, or whoever stood there, to slap me, which worked for a while. A few big breaths up in the sky reverted my senses to a much more preferred dulled state.
Aranath scaled high into the evening haze so he could glide toward the army tents. The earliest sign of the Oclor military came from the dozen griffin scouts patrolling the outskirts of an army camp some five thousand strong. Leaving it up to him, Aranath decided to dive right then and there. Like a lion pouncing on a pen of chickens, the dragon’s war had the griffins scattering in every direction. I swear the clouds themselves dashed out of his way. The magnificent bastard continued his guttural warning until he spread his wings well within sight of the foot soldiers and flew past them at a speed no griffin hoped to match.
Half an hour later and we pretty much did the same thing to an Oclor supply line. I realized I wasn’t the one doing the actual scaring, but I still felt a childish rush being part of such a thing. From there it was back to business as usual.
Thanks to a bright moon, the end of this truncated flight had humble human eyes recognizing the outline of a mountain range in night’s horizon. The map indicated they were the lowest and last mountains in the Blash range, but mountains were still mountains. Therefore, to keep Aranath from working harder in thinner air while still avoiding flying over towns and forts, Ghevont instructed the dragon to look for a narrow gap between two of the taller mountains in the region. Since crossing the gap still meant climbing steep cliffs, few humans would be present.
Goats would be present, however, lots of goats. This wouldn’t have been in my thoughts if Aranath didn’t randomly choose to fly straight for a herd of goats and pick one up in his mouth on the win
g. He said he largely hunted from a river in his realm, so I suppose he craved less wet creatures from time to time. Anyway, flying through the gap turned out to be a good solution.
Passing the highlands signified our entry into Oclor’s arboreal territory. The abundance of trees made it easier to distinguish when population centers were coming up, since drab roads and inhabited clearings stuck out more in the greenery. On the other hand, thickets of forest did not make for smooth landings. So instead of taking the time to look for an unpopulated clearing large enough to accommodate Aranath, Ghevont and I unstrapped ourselves from the saddle and jumped off the hovering dragon. I worried about Ghevont’s landing, but he made it down safely with help from a ward midway between his feet and the ungenerous glade.
Not caring that we remained a five or six hour ride from its vaporous expanse, Gremly’s befuddling reach already tossed in a hint of its power into my dream that night. It was the most creepy-ass dream I ever had. I stood frozen in utter blackness as a billion little unblinking, owl-like eyes of red and yellow surrounded me from all sides, including from the groundless floor. Something told me the detached orbs dispassionately gazed at me from an inverted position. Or perhaps I was the one upside down? They also weren’t in pairs, but floating independently from the others. The lurid, static nightmare shivered me awake as soon as I observed the vision.
The scholar’s former home did not seem to intrude on his rest. I drifted back into a dream I couldn’t remember. In fact, I didn’t remember my first dream until it came rushing back hours later when Ghevont yelled out, “There’s Gremly!” I reacted like a spooked child by closing their eyes, but my shut eyelids only brought back the vision itself. Reminding myself I was a fucking dragon knight, I opened my eyes and searched for the hailed woods.
The Dragon Knight's Soul (The Dragon Knight Series Book 4) Page 7
