Containing her feelings, she made the gesture of courtesy. “Thank you for hearing my plea.”
“You are always welcome among us,” the spirit said into her mind. It beckoned to her. “Come and dwell with us again.”
It was the invitation she’d been waiting for. Lea sprang to her feet gladly and bent down, patting the cold soil to direct an earth spirit to bring Shadrael.
“No,” the chi’miquain said. “He cannot enter our sanctuary. He has killed one of the People, those special to us. He has walked willingly among shadow and darkness. This is his place. Not among us.”
A pang went through her, and she was filled with confusion. “He came back for me,” she said. “He saved my life.”
“He cannot save you here. Come away, for you do not belong among the darkness.”
Hissing and snarling came from the demons. Lea looked worriedly in their direction. “I can’t leave him behind. Not after what he’s done for me.”
“He knows his purpose. He is to feed the darkness that comes.”
“No!” Lea cried in distress. “There must be some way to save him.”
“He cannot enter our sanctuary. We invite you to live among us, as you did before. It is our way to walk among the People. And so did we let you return to walk among your kind. But now you must choose. Your stones have told you that the time of transformation is on you. If you are to join us completely and dwell forever in quaiteth among us, then you must come now.”
Tears filled her eyes. The element spirits had saved her life when she was eight. They had taken her to the chi’miquai , and she’d been so happy and content there. True harmony, true peace, tranquility . . . all balanced perfectly. It was an idyllic existence, a safe one. It had not prepared her for the shocks of life among the Imperial Court. When her gli-emeralds began to alter shape, signaling her time of transformation, she had been elated and relieved, sorry to leave Caelan, Elandra, and little Jarel, but desperate to return to a life of true harmony. When she set out on her journey to Trau, she’d intended to escape into the wilderness and accept her completion, transforming into pi’chiquai and ascending to the first level of becoming fully chi’miquai . She’d never expected to be abducted by Shadrael, or to fall in love with him. She’d grown and changed on this journey, but it had taken her away from pi’chiquai, not toward it.
Sorrow rose in her heart. “Can I not have sanctuary with you for a short time? As before?”
“Not in your time of transformation. Few of your kind are worthy to dwell among us. We welcome you. Come.”
“I can’t go with you if it means leaving him to perish.”
“He has chosen his path of sorrow and lack. His name is woe, and there is only emptiness inside him. Decide, for I will not hold back much longer the darkness that comes.”
Torn, Lea fingered her necklace. “Will my gli-emeralds protect him if I leave them behind?”
“No. They are yours alone. They will serve no other.”
Lea shook her head, unable to believe this was the only choice available to her. That she should finally reach all that she’d ever wanted, but at such a price. What harmony, what tranquility could she find if it meant abandoning the man she loved?
“Lea,” Shadrael whispered.
Startled, she saw that he was awake, his eyes dark and liquid in the gloom. She knelt beside him, taking his hand. A shiver passed through him.
“Lea . . .”
“Yes?”
“Get out of here. I can’t see what you’re talking to. Can’t see the path, but take it.”
Her fingers tightened involuntarily on his. “Shadrael—”
“I’m dying. You still have a chance. Take it.”
She heard his words, as aloof and proud as ever. But his eyes held fear, and the emotion trembling in his hand was vulnerability. Gently she stroked his brow. “Hush. We can find another way out, for both of us.”
“No. You must go. I belong . . . here. I’m finished.”
“I don’t believe that.”
His fingers squeezed hers weakly. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice fading. “Thank you for being . . . kind.”
His eyes closed, and Lea found herself weeping. She did not want it to end like this for Shadrael, for him to sink into damnation, believing himself without a soul. She knew better, knew that his soul remained—damaged, broken, so coated in darkness he could not find it—knew that given time, he might be able to mend it once more. But to abandon him, to leave him here to die alone in the darkness, believing himself lost . . . she could not do something so cruel.
“The moment closes,” the spirit said to her mind. “Come now.”
Dashing her tears away with the back of her hand, pearls scattering in all directions, she turned to face the shimmering form. “I can’t do this!” she cried out. “I love him. I cannot leave him.”
A rumble shook the ground. “Then there will be no completion. So does your future change. As you foresaw.” Abruptly the chi’miquain vanished, and the opening of escape closed.
As soon as it was gone, the demons sprang at her. She cried out, kicking them away, throwing pearls at them, shining the light of her necklace on as many as she could. The filthy, deformed creatures snarled and twisted in retreat, snapping at each other in their flight.
Again there was a moment of quiet, but she noticed some of them trying to slink around behind her. She knew they would rush her and Shadrael again and again. And eventually her strength and vigilance would falter, and the demons would prevail. Even worse, in the distance, she could hear footsteps, far away as yet, but coming.
Calm clarity came to Lea. Since she and Shadrael were to die together, she thought, there was only one thing left for her to do.
Bending down to Shadrael, she took his callused hand in hers, holding tightly when he flinched. Deliberately she opened sevaisin between them, gasping as his pain flowed into her. Putting her lips to his, she sent her breath into him, sharing her strength and vitality, joining her light to his shadow, absorbing all that was bleak and broken inside him to give him freely what Lord Barthel had tried to rob from her. She did not know if this gift could reach the vestige of what had once been his soul, or even help it, but all she had, she gave.
The green light illuminating the passage faded as her gli-emeralds went dark and lifeless. Gasping and dizzy, Lea felt a terrible, creeping sensation of shadow spreading through her. Around her were only the darkness and the cold. She was so terribly tired. She shuddered, frightened at being cut off from the gli power of her emeralds, which she’d depended on nearly all her life. She was frightened at losing her quai, frightened at dying like this.
Heed not the terror of shadow, she told herself. Put away the fear you have received from Shadrael and believe instead in the glory of light.
Weakly she rested her head on Shadrael’s chest, waiting for what was to come.
And in the dark silence, as the demons snuffled closer, hissing and growling, closing in on Lea and Shadrael from all sides, she thought she heard Shadrael whisper her name.
Then there was nothing.
Chapter 20
The inhabitants of Kanidalon were awakened at dawn by the town watchmen sounding the alarm. People rushed from their abodes or leaned out windows, only to point and marvel. Ever since the arrival of the Second Legion two days ago and the Tenth the day before that, the town had been humming with fear and apprehension, unsure of what might befall it next. Rumors were rife, saying that the warlord had proclaimed Ulinia to be in open revolt, that the emperor was coming to lay waste to the province, that its people would be rounded up and sold into slavery. The arrival of two legions in addition to the Ninth already stationed here only seemed to confirm such speculations. As for Lord Vordachai, he was said to be barricaded high in the Jawnuth Mountains in his citadel, refusing to come down from its safety to plead for his people.
Now more invaders seemed to be coming. Trumpets sounded from the city walls as the pale gray sky of ear
ly morning filled with ominous shapes.
Dragons.
Roused from his bunk by his aide’s rough shaking, Commander Pendek rolled onto his feet with a sour grunt and found himself moving to pull on clothing and pick up his weapons before he was fully awake. The blare of trumpets and the running tramp of feet told him the whole camp was roused.
Blinking, he knuckled sleep from his eyes and glared at his aide, half-seen in the early light. “Is it attack?”
“I don’t know, sir,” the aide said briskly. “Alarm has sounded. Dragons are flying in.”
Scowling, Pendek tossed down his sword. “Is that all? You know better than to panic over a courier.”
“We’ve counted a hundred of them, sir.”
“Are they attacking?”
“They’re flying in the Imperial formation.”
Astonishment rooted Pendek in place before he rushed to his window and flung it open. It seemed at first to be a dream. The sky glowing pale above the horizon, the moon sinking, a veil of thin cloud glowing in hues of red and gold from the rising sun. And against this backdrop, the dragons, their enormous wings silhouetted against the sky, were approaching in a single V, perfectly aligned, instead of their usual flying clusters.
Excitement rushed through Pendek. Then fear. He felt the sensation of balancing on a teetering surface, with nothing to grab. It could be a trick, a vile trick of the wily Viermar’s. Perhaps the old scoundrel had joined the revolt and was bringing his dragon lords to an alliance with Lord Vordachai. Perhaps raiders meant to attack the town. Kanidalon would stand little chance against fire raining from the sky. Or were the dragons flying in as escort for the emperor’s chariot? And if so, how far distant was His Imperial Majesty? And why hadn’t couriers ridden from the checkpoints to warn of His Excellency’s approach?
Pendek felt dizzy from so much rapid speculation. Meeting the emperor would be the crowning achievement of his career, his very life.
It could also prove disastrous. He must take care that no one blamed him for Vordachai’s revolt.
Outside his window, a decivate still struggling to buckle on his armor paused to throw Pendek a salute. “Compliments of the watch officer, sir!” he shouted. “The emperor is coming.”
“Which road? Get the men ready to provide an escort into the town.”
The officer gaped at him. “From the sky, sir. Have you any messages for your cohort leaders?”
Pendek mumbled something and withdrew his head, his thoughts swirling with thoughts of how to present his report. This was all like a dream. It seemed impossible. And yet . . . he suddenly roared for his bafboy, a wizened man who’d served him for years.
“Sir?”
“Get out my best armor, my new cloak. I must shave! And set my office in order. Great Gault, the emperor!”
Caelan Light Bringer had sworn years ago never to trust or befriend a Thyrazene. Since the horrible day when dragon raiders had burned his boyhood home E’nonhold and killed or sold into slavery almost everyone he held dear, he’d harbored a cold knot of resentment that had hardened with every day he spent chained to a galley oar, with every night he ached from surviving another fight in the gladiator games. Since he’d taken the throne, his dealings with the Viermar, supreme chieftain of all the dragon lords, had been cool at best, and his curtailment of much of their smuggling revenue had set them against him in return.
However, with Lea’s safety at stake and the need to move swiftly paramount, Caelan had put aside his animosity and gone to the Viermar for help. He’d done so in secret, telling no one—not his advisers, not even Elandra—what he planned. It had been a gamble, for with Thyraze threatening revolt, he was placing himself in their hands.
But the Viermar, after much shrewd haggling for concessions, had seemed delighted with the honor conferred on him. No emperor had ever ridden a dragon. Kostimon had permitted them, in the eight hundredth year of his reign, to fly above his chariot in escort once. Never again.
This was a great day for the dragon lords, and they had shouted acclaim for Caelan as he swallowed both trepidation and unpleasant memories to climb atop one of the huge, scaly beasts.
Now, having flown through the night and nearly frozen in the cold air, his numbed hands gripping the harness as the powerful wings beat with smooth strokes, Caelan had found a measure of exhilaration in flying so high above the ground, in covering distance so quickly. Had he not been worried about Lea, he might almost have enjoyed himself.
As it was, he had no inclination to marvel at the mountains and desert in this province that had caused him trouble since the beginning of his reign. Most of the land seemed to be barren dirt or sheer precipice. Moments ago, he’d flown over a mountain peak, the clouds curling about his shoulders, and come down through a heart-stopping gorge into a land that seemed to grow almost nothing. There were few fields, rare pastures. He wondered what the people lived on and how they fed themselves. Yet no amount of poverty excused what they’d done to his most beloved sister.
The notorious market town of Kanidalon sprawled below him. He saw the rambling clusters of mud buildings nestled at the base of more mountains. To the south stretched the army outpost, and annexed to it were campaign tents pitched in orderly rows. He assessed them quickly with a nod to himself. Three legions at hand already, with cavalry and another two legions on their way. Lord Vordachai, he thought grimly, was about to learn a hard lesson about the price of treason.
Behind him, the rider whistled shrilly in the code the dragon riders used among themselves. The formation tightened as they came down over the town, where people were running in all directions like insects. The dragon beneath Caelan was slowing, shifting its wings and grunting as it suddenly lowered its horned head and angled downward.
Caelan, aware that he could go sailing right off over the beast’s neck if he did not take care, tightened his grip on the harness and swallowed the sudden dryness in his mouth. A prior landing to let the dragons rest had not been so steep.
Below, he could hear trumpets and saw the soldiers hastening to assembly.
He reminded himself that he’d wanted the element of surprise. He wanted to move on Vordachai and crush the flames of revolt before they could blaze into other provinces. Above all, he wanted Lea out of here and safely home. His sister was a delicate, unusual creature, a delight to everyone of course, but also fragile in certain ways, her spirit unable to cope with violence and unkindness. That anyone had dared abuse her, that anyone had dared frighten her or cause her one moment’s misery sent fresh rage surging through him.
This stunt, this vast risk, was worth it, he thought grimly, if it meant freeing her from the terror and distress she must be going through.
The rider tapped his shoulder, and Caelan dared release one hand from its death grip on the harness to point at the parade ground outside the post. He had no intention of entering Kanidalon’s walls until the province and its unruly warlord were subdued.
The rider whistled again in a series of shrill sounds. Moments later, the dragons flying behind Caelan’s peeled away, bugling a sound that had once figured in his nightmares. Now he flew down alone, while the rest of his escort circled and wheeled in the sky.
Rising sunlight gilded him, glinting off his golden breastplate and armor, shining on his crown. He rode a bronzehued dragon, the largest of their kind. It landed with amazing lightness, hardly jarring him at all. The dragon raised its horned head and bugled, then folded its wings and knelt for Caelan to dismount.
Officers were hurrying forth to greet him. Caelan took a moment to draw his breath and give thanks he had landed safely. He hoped his numbed feet would support him when he climbed off.
“My thanks to you, rider,” he said to the man at his back.
“You have granted us great honor,” the Thyrazene replied. “My dragon and I thank you.” His restless beast snorted a belch or two of fire, sending the officers scurrying back in some alarm. The rider swiftly curbed his brute, and the dragon lowered it
s horned head with a rumble that shook its entire frame. “It’s safe to get down now, Excellency.”
Caelan jumped stiffly to the ground and strode forth to meet the goggle-eyed officers as though he made this sort of entrance every day. His gray eyes, so pale and intimidating, swept across their faces. Ignoring their salutes and eager smiles, he kept his own expression grim as his gaze focused on the legion commander wearing the emblem of the Ninth.
“Commander Pendek,” he said without preamble.
His disregard of the courtesies they so obviously wanted to give him gave them pause. Pendek, a tall fellow with the shoulders of an ox and Chanvezi eyes, looked both apprehensive and awestruck. His spanking breastplate and cloak were clearly new, showing a marked contrast to the battle-scarred, although well-polished, gear of the other legion commanders.
A clerk, Caelan thought. Risen to his present rank by possible favoritism and family influence, but certainly not a field officer. Caelan wondered who had posted this man to Ulinia in the first place.
Stepping forward, Pendek saluted officiously. “Excellency, it is my pleasure to welcome you to the—”
“Thank you,” Caelan said, cutting off his speech. “See that these dragons and men are given rations and anything else they need.” His gaze swept to the other two commanders, and he accorded them nothing more than a slight nod before turning back to Pendek. “Where is your office?”
“Allow me to show you, Excellency.”
Hurriedly Pendek fell into step with Caelan, awkwardly positioning himself to one side so as not to interfere with Caelan’s protector, now on the ground and coming up grimly to take his position at the emperor’s heels. The other commanders followed, along with their aides, as centruins bawled orders and the long line of soldiers saluted and shouted acclaim for the emperor.
Behind him, the dragon riders whooped and shrieked, making their beasts rear up and flap formidable wings, bugling as loudly as the trumpets.
A trifle disconcerted by the ruckus, Caelan kept going.
The Crown Page 21
