“You mean Ander?”
“Yes, from Misho.”
“I’m a shaman Danielle.”
“I know, but we don’t have shaman in Ayralen. What is it you do exactly?”
Brees’s brow furrowed. “I control elements such as fire, cold, and lightning. Ander had traveled the desert without shoes, and the heat scorched his feet. I pulled away the burn and used water to restore his dehydrated flesh. All Ajahn can do the same quite easily.”
“What’s an Ajahn? Why did Fizzle call you that?”
Brees smiled. “It’s an honorific for those born with my gift.”
“So you can rain down fire and lighting on me is that it?”
Brees’s body shook with deep hearty laughter. “I’m no sorcerer Danielle. The magic I hold gives me the power to use a sorcerer’s magic against him, but I can’t conjure a ball of fire. That’s what a sorcerer does.” A thin layer of disgust touched his last words.
“Do all shaman heal villagers?”
Brees sighed. “I wish that were true, but no. Most shaman choose to use their gift in a different way.” His voice turned sad almost mournful. “There are few Ajahn that offer healing services.”
Behind Danielle, a high-pitched screech shattered the desert calm. She jumped six-inches off the ground.
Brees reached for crystal blades strapped to his belt and craned his neck skyward.
An ominous shadow stretched across the desert floor, and a loud whooshing sound followed close behind. Twenty-feet overhead, a silver blur flashed by giving way to gleaming silver scales and deep-set blue eyes. Sand kicked up swirling around Danielle and Brees while a living dragon crossed above Mara’s walls. A blond-haired boy no older than ten seasons sat atop the dragon. He hadn’t spared a passing glance toward the ground. The dragon roared, and its heavy wings flapped before entering an even glide. It descended and disappeared behind Mara’s high crystal walls.
Danielle’s legs wobbled. Her thoughts scrambled, and she tried to make sense of what she’d just seen. Had she seen a real living dragon? Even though she’d seen Misho with her own eyes, the experience felt disconnected from the present day. She recalled Brees’s unwillingness to believe the Heartwood a real place. Wouldn’t she feel the same had he told her dragons existed? She felt as small as a grain of desert sand. She’d never questioned the wider world beyond Ayralen and Meranthia.
“Great. That’s what I was afraid of,” Brees said.
The shaman displayed no hint of concern, and he appeared more annoyed than afraid. “Was that really a dragon?”
“Of course it was.” Brees’s brow furrowed as if confused.
“And the boy sitting atop the dragon?”
Brees chuckled. “I’d be careful calling him a boy Danielle. My brother’s five years older than me.”
Danielle gasped. “That’s your brother?”
“Come on. We have to pick up the pace. I need to get inside the city before Aren.”
Danielle trotted forward toward Mara’s arched gateway looming a dozen paces ahead.
A pair of burly guardsmen stood outside the city gate. They offered Brees the barest nod while Danielle moved beneath the town’s open gates.
An array of tightly packed buildings of various sizes and shapes loomed over a spaghetti bowl of winding sandy streets. Without exception, Mara's architecture consisted of a blend of multicolored crystal and smooth sandstone.
Three separate streets diverged from Mara’s entrance. To Danielle’s right, a narrow cart path hugged Mara’s outer wall teeming with merchants and shoppers. Shabby lean-tos, serving as makeshift merchant stalls, lined both sides of the dusty path. Vocal merchants stood outside booths hawking a variety of exotic goods.
The merchant nearest Danielle stood behind stacked baskets of dried brown fruit. Her neighbor sold dark jerky by the string, each hanging from a separate hook. Another merchant, working a nearby booth, sold stunning crystal rings and necklaces. The vendor across from him sat behind stacks of rough burlap cloth Danielle had seen worn by almost every person in Obsith.
To Danielle’s left, a narrow hard-packed street sloped upward. It disappeared thirty-feet ahead curved a blue crystal building. Merchant shops lined the street, but unlike the stalls, engraved signs hung above their open doors.
Ahead, a curved path led past a half-dozen well-tended single story homes. The path diverged, going right toward Mara’s center and deeper into a local neighborhood to the left.
A four-story temple, built from multicolored crystals, towered over Mara’s city center. But, unlike Misho’s temple, Mara’s temple stood twice as tall and wide. Atop the temple, a broad platform teemed with a half-dozen resting dragons.
Two of the magnificent beasts lay entwined dozing. Two others munched on the carcasses of some strange desert antelope.
The silver dragon Aren commanded settled atop the temple’s landing tower. It snorted before turning and sinking its snout into a ten-foot tall barrel near the platform’s edge. Water sloshed over the barrel’s side while the silver dragon gulped down mouthfuls.
Aren slipped from the dragon’s crystal saddle dangling from its side. He dropped three-feet before landing nimbly on the stone platform.
Danielle watched and worried the beast might swallow him whole.
Brees lowered his voice and whispered in Danielle’s ear. “Follow me, but stay close.” He dismounted Danielle’s paka form, and led her along the road ahead. They meandered through Mara’s twisting streets. Brees veered from a wide street bustling with foot traffic. He ducked onto a small stone path just wide enough for Danielle to squeeze through in paka form.
Danielle followed Brees hopelessly lost by the shaman’s wandering path.
Brees took a sharp right turn and followed a twisting path down a set of narrow sandstone stairs. He paused outside a closed basement door set into a two-story home.
Brees worked the burlap straps holding Keely atop Danielle’s back. He eased her from the saddle and cradled her in his arms. He peered right and left before leaning inward and lowering his voice. “Don’t move Danielle. I’m going to lay Keely on a bed right inside, and I’ll be back.” Brees disappeared into the home’s murky interior carrying Danielle's best friend in his arms.
A sharp pang of fear rippled along Danielle’s spine.
As promised, Brees appeared a moment later and loosened the saddle straps before pulling it free. He climbed halfway up the stairs and glanced around the nearly empty street. “It’s all clear. Go ahead.”
Danielle shifted into human form while Brees descended the stairs stopping beside her.
Brees pulled a loose piece of dark burlap from his back pocket lowering his voice while he spoke. “Here.” He handed the cloth to Danielle. “Cover your hair. You’ll draw less attention to yourself.”
Danielle worked the dark cloth over her head. She covered her platinum sun-streaked locks tucking away loose strands before tying a knot at the base of her neck.
Brees nodded. “That’s good. If anyone asks, I brought you and your sister from Misho for treatment.”
Danielle nodded. “Thanks.”
“And try not to speak.” Brees cocked his head sideways and stared at Danielle wearing an odd expression. “Your accent sounds…strange.”
“Thanks. You really know how to impress a girl don’t you?”
Brees offered a slight grin and shrugged. “Come on in.” He held the door open for Danielle and followed her inside.
Danielle paused inside a murky entryway connected to a larger bedroom on the right. Keely lay atop a narrow bed topped with layers of the rough burlap cloth used everywhere. A crystal table sat beside the bed, and a lit oil lamp sat on top spreading a warm glow across the shadowed room.
Brees closed the door and stopped beside Danielle.
“I’ve delivered on my half of the deal,” Danielle said. “Please take care of Keely.”
Brees nodded. “I need to fill a basin with purified water. I have some upstairs,”
he said. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Danielle followed Brees into the bedroom where Keely rested. She slipped into a comfortable crystal chair that curved to fit her body’s contours.
Brees disappeared up a stone stairway built into the room’s far wall. A moment later, the sound of muffled conversation drifted from the second floor.
Danielle’s ears perked as she froze straining to hear the conversation. She heard Brees’s voice, but the second voice sounded feminine. Had Brees a wife he didn’t mention? The thought irritated her.
The murmuring grew louder, and the woman’s voice pitched higher growing in intensity. She sounded distressed.
Danielle stood and tiptoed to the staircase. She climbed halfway up until she could understand their conversation.
“…sorry Catalin. I made it here as fast as I could,” Bree said.
Catalin’s voice trembled as she spoke. “I don’t know what happened to him. He was fine a week ago.” She sobbed and Brees comforted the woman offering soft words of sympathy.
Heat spread through Danielle’s cheeks. She should leave him alone, but for some reason she couldn’t pull herself away.
“Was it the fever?” Brees said.
“Yes. At first I thought it was sun exposure. I sent for a shaman, but the temple priestess said he’d gone to Zen to meet with the emperor.”
Danielle’s stomach sank. Arber had traveled to Zen.
“I’m sorry Catalin, but he couldn’t have helped Nevin even if he’d tried.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen this fever appear in the last few villages I’ve visited,” Brees said. “The sickness starts with small red spots.”
Catalin nodded. “Yes, Nevin had those, but I thought it was just a heat rash.”
“Did they turn into blisters when the fever came?”
Dread filled Catalin’s voice. “Yes. I didn’t know what to make of it. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I haven’t found a way to stop it, and it’s spreading.” Deep concern touched Bree’s voice.
Goose bumps rose on Danielle’s flesh. Brees had just described the symptoms of Dimrey’s Plague. The illness had cost many thousands of Ayralen lives three hundred years ago. The plague had almost wiped out the country’s population. But, wardens discovered the antidote growing under their noses. An extract created from the fruit growing on heartwood trees provided the cure. The heartwood extract cured many diseases once believed untreatable. Danielle always carried a small sample in her belt pouch.
Wardens had modified the forest’s heartwood trees infusing the extract deep in its core. The antidote now grew inside the tree’s succulent fruit. As a regular part of the Ayralen diet, consuming the fruit prevented Dimrey’s Plague from progressing. But how had these desert people contracted an illness born in the north Ayralen swamplands?
“Catalin, I’ve brought a patient from Misho suffering from atter poisoning. She’s in the cellar,” Brees said. “I promised to treat her.”
Light footfalls sounded on the floor above Danielle. “When Nevin fell ill, I’d prepared a healing basin hoping the shaman might arrive, but….” Catalin’s words drifted off. “Please take it.”
“Thank you.” Brees spoke the words with genuine tenderness.
Brees’s voice sounded different from the man Danielle had grown to know. She struggled to mesh this new facet of his personality. She liked the man she heard upstairs.
Heavy footfalls sounded above moving toward the stairway.
Danielle jumped, startled at the sudden movement. She scrambled down the steps and lunged ahead collapsing into the chair near Keely’s bed.
Brees appeared at the bottom of the staircase holding a crystalline basin filled with clear water. He placed the basin on the bedside table and knelt retrieving a round rocky container filled with white powder.
Danielle’s heart raced, and she forced even breathing. Had he caught her snooping? He gave no sign.
“I’ll have your friend up and around in a few minutes.” Brees stood and placed the container on the bedside table. His back faced Danielle while he prepared the medicine.
Sadness filled his voice, and he’d lost the spark Danielle had grown familiar with during the past two days. A thread of worry tugged at her chest. “Brees, can you stop for a second?”
Brees turned to face Danielle. Worry lines streaked his face, and his eyes appeared red and bleary.
A hard knot formed in Danielle’s stomach. He’d held something back from Catalin. She could see it etched in his face. She stood and faced him. “What’s wrong? Was that your wife?”
Brees raised a single eyebrow. “You were listening?”
Danielle’s face flushed. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.” Her gaze drifted to her scuffed leather shoes. “She called you back to Mara didn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“Who was the man? Nevin you called him.”
“Nevin was Catalin’s husband, Danielle. She’s my sister.”
Danielle’s stomach fluttered. “Oh. I’m so sorry Brees. I just…well, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped. It was wrong.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “I knew you were listening.”
Danielle’s face flushed deep crimson, and she stared at Brees with her jaw agape.
“You make enough noise to wake a hibernating sand sloth.”
“I guess that’s pretty bad then?”
Brees slumped into the crystal chair beside Keely. His shoulders sagged, and he leaned back, rubbing his eyes. “Nevin was only thirty solars old. When I last saw him, he was strong as a paka. I don’t understand what’s happening, but it’s trouble for us all.”
“Maybe I can help?”
Brees lifted his head and met Danielle’s gaze before shaking his head. “The rash is spreading Danielle, and I can’t stop it.”
“Brees, I might —”
“Catalin’s sick Danielle. I think she has the fever.”
Danielle gasped. “Why do you think that?”
“I saw a small red cluster of bumps raised on her shoulder.”
Danielle’s stomach sank. She knew how fast Dimrey’s Plague spread. If left untreated, the fever could kill every person inside Mara’s walls within a month. “Brees, roll up your sleeves. I need to see your forearms.”
“I don’t feel sick,” Brees said.
Danielle knelt before the shaman and held his hands. His skin felt warm and rough beneath her soft touch. She held his gaze, and her legs weakened beneath his stare. “Don’t be stubborn.” She curled back his sleeve to his elbow and turned his right arm over exposing the soft underside.
A scattered patchwork of red blotches streaked his arm ending near his wrist.
Danielle reeled and stifled her shock. “Brees, I think —”
The back door swung open, and a boy with close-cropped blond hair strode through slamming the door shut behind him. His blue eyes traveled up and down Danielle as if examining a drunken vagrant. “Who’s this?”
Brees stood, rolled down his sleeve, and faced his brother. “She’s from Misho Aren, I’m —”
“Where’s Catalin? I’m hungry.” Ignoring Brees, Aren moved to the stairway and glared upstairs as if his sister should read his mind. “Catalin! Bring me some figs and jerky! I don’t have all day!”
“Aren. Shut up!” Brees said.
Aren’s head snapped toward Brees. “How dare you speak to me like that.”
Aren stormed across the room until he stood before Brees glaring upward. “I could kill you where you stand.”
Under different circumstances, Danielle might have found the scene comical. She’d dealt with petulant children, and Aren showed all the signs.
“Go ahead. Let’s see how far you get.” Brees didn’t move appearing more bored than frightened.
Danielle hung her head and slid backward trying her best to disappear inside the crystal walls.
“What a waste.” Disgus
t touched Aren’s eyes as he stared at Brees, his face a mask of contempt and loathing. “Such potential thrown away on cowardice.” A sneering half-smile crossed his face.
“What do you want Aren?” Brees said.
Aren slipped into the bedside chair not sparing Keely a cursory glance. “I see you brought home another one of your projects.” His feet dangled from the chair, and he leaned backward.
“Never mind that. Why are you here?” Brees said.
“Can’t I come visit my family? Do you think I’ve no heart?”
Brees sighed. “I don’t think you understand the concept of family Aren.”
“Such noble sentiments.” Aren shook his head. “A bleeding heart just like father.”
“Why don’t you finish spouting your insults so you can get to the point,” Brees said. “I’ve got work to do.”
“The sultan has ordered you to the temple. He's gathering his forces for a raid.”
“Stealing diamonds from more farmers? I’ll pass,” Brees said.
“It’s nothing like that. These orders came straight from the emperor.”
Brees’s brow furrowed. “The emperor? Why would the emperor order Calag’s sultan on a raid?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” Aren stood and glanced toward the empty stairs. “I’ll find my own dinner.” He flipped up his hood leaving his face shadowed and strode toward the door. Inside the entryway, he paused and faced Brees. “You have thirty minutes. If you fail to arrive, the sultan will issue a warrant for your arrest.”
Brees shook his head. “How will the sultan arrest me if I’m in the middle of the desert?”
Aren’s eyes softened by a fraction. “Just show up Brees. Don’t be a coward for once.” He opened the door and shut it behind him leaving silence in his wake.
Homeward Bound
Amid a dark gray sky, thick falling snowflakes blotted out the dragon’s fading shadows. They climbed a massive peak whose summit ended somewhere above the low-hanging clouds.
Ronan’s hands and feet turned numb as a knot of dread sat like a rock in his stomach. How had he lost Rika? The mighty king of Meranthia and keeper of Elan’s vaunted magic, shoved aside like a stumbling child.
King Of Souls (Book 2) Page 12
