by Lexy Wolfe
"How would you know what dragons do, Desanti?" Meredith asked snidely as she stepped outside. She flinched reflexively when Storm snap drew her two-edged sword, the point scant inches from her throat.
"Because I was raised by a dragon," Storm stated tonelessly.
Tyrsan arched an eyebrow at that statement before daring to reach out and put a hand atop the one holding the sword wordlessly. With a growl, Storm acceded to the mute request and resheathed her weapon, crossing her arms. He looked at Skyfire. "You are certain the one they seek is here?"
Skyfire fixed his gleaming gold gaze on Meredith. "Absolutely. But for all her hatred and prejudice, she is not the murderer." He glanced skyward and said, "Dragons are persistent and very accurate trackers. Unless someone makes a habit of murdering dragon young, the one they seek is here. The scent of death lingers in the air strongest here."
"I could only negotiate a little time to find the killer," Storm informed Tyrsan curtly. "They will not wait much longer, and I am not going to stop them this time." She narrowed hateful green-gold eyes on Meredith and Benilus. "If I had known you protected a murderer, I would not have interfered with--"
"Unsvet Benilus does not know anything about it," Skyfire interrupted, frowning at Storm scoldingly. He fixed his gazed on Meredith. "But she knows."
"What are you talking about?" the woman demanded, her cheeks flushed as all eyes turned on her. "I know nothing of anyone who killed a dragon." Tyrsan gestured to the guardsmen to go into the building. "Dulain! You could not possibly believe these-these savages!"
"I can and I do," Tyrsan stated coldly, having gestured for the guards with him to bring everyone out of the building. He looked over the three Unsvets that were pushed out ahead of the guardsmen.
As the fourth man crossed the threshold, everyone was deafened with the shrieks of fury as the dragons dove for the building. They backwinged when Storm and Skyfire stood between them and the other Guardians, landing in the courtyard. Wings remained unfurled, their claws ripping the stone easily. A third dragon, even larger than the other two, landed with an eerie serenity. Carefully, it laid the body of an infant dragon on the ground, and leveled a look on Tyrsan with the air of one leader to another.
Tyrsan looked at the mangled body for as long as he could bear before turning his eyes away in sympathetic grief. He then narrowed his gaze on the three Unsvets being held by the Guardians. Without asking, he gestured for the fourth to be brought forward. A glance to the Swordanzen as they nodded lightly in approval and the sounds of the dragons snarling told him he was correct. "Donu, explain."
"What?" Donu asked, voice trembling in fear. "I didn't do anything! I--" He froze when the two Desanti moved, Skyfire grabbing Storm's wrist to keep her from attacking him.
"Can you claim innocence to our mistress, the Timeless One?" Tyrsan asked flatly. "Because it is She who will judge you." Holding his right palm towards Donu, he stared for a long time, the slash of color on his cheek glowing softly. Donu trembled unable to look away. The mark on Donu's cheek flared brightly as if it were afire.
When the light faded, a gaping wound was left, blood oozing down his cheek. Donu screamed in agony, falling to his knees. "There is no place for those who break the edicts of the goddess of time," the Dulain stated coldly, looking down pitilessly at the former Guardian. To Meredith and the other two, he snapped, "Get out of here. Now!"
Storm and Skyfire both took involuntary steps backwards as the shrieking man seemed to wither and shrivel. On his hands and knees, Donu looked up, reaching out a wrinkled hand, his skeletal face covered with sagging, wrinkled flesh as his true age caught up to him. "Please, Dulain! Not this! Please! Forgive me! I'm begging you!" He crawled forward a short distance before clutching his chest as his heart seized and he gasped, collapsing.
The three dragons relaxed, folding their wings back in satisfaction. The ancient dragon rumbled deep in his chest, meeting Tyrsan's eyes. "You have given justice for the life of our youngling, leader of Time's mortal servants," Storm translated. "We thank you."
Tyrsan blinked and looked at Storm. "He speaks?"
"Of course he speaks," Storm stated, arching an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't a dragon be able to speak? Much less their king?" She looked up at the great dragon when he rumbled again and relaxed slightly. "You are forgiven your ignorance, Dulain. We do not often allow humans to learn of our nature. It is fortunate you have a dragon kin among you to speak on your behalf."
The Guardians looked oddly at Storm for so long, she stated testily, "Yes, I am dragon kin. I said I was raised by a dragon."
"I see." Tyrsan looked at the body of the small dragon. "Highness, forgive me for--" He went silent as the dragon rumbled again.
"We do not blame the leader who takes responsibility for the actions of rogues among their members," Storm translated, straightening proudly. "Had you tried to defend the indefensible, there would have been war." The mid-sized dragon came forward and gathered the young dragon's body; it and the smaller dragon took wing and departed. Both Swordanzen put their hands over their heart as the ancient dragon rumbled one last time, then took to the sky, the air rushing to occupy the space it had been moments before.
"You are dragon kin also?" Tyrsan asked Skyfire curiously. Clarifying the question, he said, "You were speaking to them as well, were you not?"
"I am Githalin Swordanzen, Dulain. We speak to the heart of the land and those within it. Only humans seem unable to comprehend anymore." Putting his arm around Storm, he kissed the top of her head, then looked to Benilus. "We apologize for being late for lessons."
"You... apologize... for being... late? After...?" Benilus could only stare at the pair.
Taking pity on the man, Tyrsan put a firm hand on his back and guided him back into the building. "Come, Adepts. I would like to see how your reading and writing skills are progressing." He cast a meaningful look to the senior guardsman. The man saluted smartly and waved the other guardsmen to depart.
Chapter 12
Hurriedly leaving their quarters, Mureln, Emil and Emaris slowed their pace to look over their shoulders. "Yer sure leavin' Taylin alone wi' Storm be a good idea?" Emil asked uncertainly. "I ain't never seen Storm this pissed b'fore."
"Storm would never harm Taylin," Mureln stated without hesitation. "Though Ash may be in for a bruising if he doesn't take a day away from the archives." Turning forward, he started walking down the corridor towards the garden grotto where several tunnels intersected. "The man is positively obsessed with the archives and Storm absolutely hates them." He arched an eyebrow at Emaris's signing. "Oh, come now. There are times Ash is not obsessed, Emaris."
"Ye could fool me," Emil replied drolly. "Don't get me wrong. He be much better since that harpy of a student be off his back an' his uncle replaced that darkling-corrupted thing headin' their mage council. But now he be fixated on figurin' out what happened t' the Desanti Guardians who disappeared after th' Great War. Somethin' that Guardians ain't been able t' figure out themselves, and th' Desanti ain't tellin' if they know."
"It is not a bad fixation," Mureln temporized as they arrived in the natural grotto, the embedded sunstones echoing the sun in their brilliance, the scattered moonstones dimmed in response to the time of day. "Their absence has been a major factor in the imbalance Fortress struggles to compensate for."
Emil stopped, crossing his arms. "If th' Desanti ain't got their dander up 'bout it, I do no' see why anyone else needs ta worry 'bout it. 'Specially if it be riling Storm." Glancing towards the mostly obscured servant's hall, he blinked in surprise to see a familiar face. "Hey! I remember you--" His words were cut off when Mureln suddenly staggered, clutching his head with a pained groan. Emaris caught Mureln before he collapsed to the floor.
Emaris looked up in surprise as Itena hurried over to them. Kneeling in front of Mureln, she pressed her lips together. "I hoped it was not as bad as I feared." Rising and turning in a swirl of colorful skirts, she stated in a tone that brooked no argument, "Come! The
re is little time to waste."
"Should we na get one of th' others?" Emil asked, hesitating as he looked back up the tunnel they came down. Emaris scowled uncertainly, getting his arm under Mureln and all but carrying him, torn between heading back to their rooms and following the gypsy woman. At Itena's imperious beckoning, Emil assured, "She be one of th' clans." Accepting that as assurance enough, Emaris followed his brother and the woman down the servant hall.
Itena paused several measures away from the grotto, looking further down the corridor as the three men caught up to her. When they neared, she touched a carving on the wall, and a panel slid open. "This way!" she hissed. "Quickly, before someone sees us." The gypsy brothers traded an uncertain look but went into the darkness as Itena bid. For a moment, the darkness was complete when the panel shut again.
The soft glow of a raw sunstone brightened the tunnel as she drew it out of her pouch. "It isn't much further, I promise." She turned and started walking away, forcing Emil and Emaris to hurry before they were left in the darkness. Their paces quickened when the fresh scent of plants and the hushed sounds of songbirds joined the sounds of their footsteps and Mureln's pained groans.
Rounding a corner, the men stopped short at a most incredible sight. A massive, underground grotto opened up before them, a huge pillar supporting the cavern roof. A narrow river flowed from a mist-enshrouded waterfall to disappear into a crevice on the opposite side. Birds flitted from plant to plant among the multitude of bush-like to treelike ferns that nearly carpeted the cavern's floor. On the same level they exited the tunnel on was a small cluster of gypsy-style tents and small huts.
"Bring your friend over here," Itena ordered as people emerged to look curiously at the strangers. "Pavin! Bring the senasa root!" A young man blinked, eyes widening before he bobbed a bow and disappeared into the largest tent.
Emil and Emaris traded looks in bewilderment. "What has everyone so excited?" he asked uncertainly as Emaris eased Mureln onto a stone bench. The smaller gypsy took off his jacket, folding it to tuck under Mureln's head.
"Emil?" Mureln asked blearily, squinting as he looked around in disorientation. "What is going on? Where--?"
"You are safe," Itena said gently as she knelt by Mureln. Taking the ornate, etched crystal cup Pavin brought to her at a run, she said, "Drink this. It will help." Mureln made a face as he did as he was told, then laid back with a groan, putting his arm over his eyes.
After several minutes, Mureln relaxed and uncovered his eyes, pushing himself up. "Thank you. Though I am not exactly sure what happened or what you did to help me."
"What happened is your mind nearly slipped into the nether world that Guardians scry into." Handing the cup to Pavin, Itena stood gracefully. "And sometimes get lost within. One of the qualities of senasa root is it anchors the mind in the here and now. Rumors of what you had done with Alysha have been running rampant. I or one of my people have been watching you, just in case you slipped."
Emil blinked. "Guess ye weren't imaginin' things, Emaris. There ha' been someone watchin' us. Sorry fer doubtin' ye." To Itena, he said, "I thought you lived and worked in Sharindel."
"Oh, goodness no. That's much of the reason it took me so long to get hired as one of the servants while you were all still being tested by the Unseen." Smiling knowingly at Emil, she said, "And I was right, wasn't I?"
Emil flushed as Mureln and Emaris both looked at him quizzically. "Bah. Yer a seer. Hate seers. Make m' skin crawl."
"You know her?" Mureln asked, still seated as he squinted up at the two.
"Ah, yeah. Met her a few days b'fore Storm went and stunned th' Guardians by attackin' the Unseen." At the blank looks of the strange gypsies gathering around them, Emil explained vaguely, "Storm be th' Desanti wi' a godlike temper."
"Time enough for gossip later. Go on! Back to your chores! The passes will be open soon," Itena stated, making a shooing motion and disbursing most of the gathered. Waving Emil and Emaris to sit at one of the other benches near Mureln's, the woman said, "Forgive me for not introducing myself to you both sooner, Master Bard, Emaris. I am Itena. Welcome to Gypsy's Grotto."
"Suthernali clan," Mureln postulated as he accepted her hand, kissing her knuckles lightly. "I did not realize you ranged this far north and west."
"Originally, yes, but no longer." Itena waved a hand towards the small encampment. "We are part of the mixed clan that serves Fortress and Sharindel, meeting them as they cross the border into the goddess's lands so they may face the Unseen's tests in peace."
"The Gypsy's Grotto?" Emil stared at Itena. "I thought that just be a fanciful story our mum told us when we were just wee lads."
"Oh, it is quite real, as you can see." Itena lowered her eyes and says, "We serve the Timeless One as only gypsies can."
Mureln scanned the group and the idyllic glade beyond them thoughtfully. "Does Dulain Tyrsan know of you or this place?"
Itena shook her head. "No, he does not. This Dulain is the first in a long time that I have been tempted to break the edict of silence. But as he will not be serving forever..." She shrugged. "One of our main purposes here is to grow and brew senasa root tincture and when we suspect that one of the Guardians is at risk of slipping, we mix it with their food or drink to anchor them until their minds clear."
The woman made a face in annoyance. "Had we been able to get the senasa root to you, we would not have been forced to reveal our presence to you this soon. If at all. However," she said with a sigh. "Those Desanti have an uncanny ability to knock over those drinks or foods we had slipped the senasa root into. It's as if they knew there was something different with them."
"Aye, leave it t' our Swordanzen t' make things difficult," Emil said drolly. "So, wha' happened t' Mureln ain't unique?"
Pavin shrugged. "Well, normally it happens when a Guardian scrys and can't find their way back to the real world. Scrying must be done with extreme care. Casting the mind into the timeless ether is a risk, no matter the age or skill of the one scrying. Sharing visions is usually done through water, as water is the Timeless One's means of protecting us. It buffers the contact of minds so we do not lose ourselves within another."
Itena continued gravely. "When Guardians record their thoughts in their journals, they impart a tiny part of their souls to the writing. What Nikkan did..." She closed her eyes. "He was not even a Guardian yet, so he was young, unpracticed. He tried to share his vision, but instead left a part of himself within your mind." She shrugged. "It was only a matter of time until that part of him tried to drag you under."
Mureln paled, expression bleak as he touched his temple. "I can still sense him there. You mean... this will happen again?"
"Until you can release him, yes," Pavin confirmed. "We are not... sure how that can happen."
Itena reached over to take one of Mureln's hands in both of hers, her hold reassuring. "While we had not intended to reveal ourselves to you, Master Bard, you share kin song with two of our brothers. We knew you could be trusted." She smiled faintly. "We will ensure that you have the senasa available to you."
"Has senasa ever failed?" Mureln asked simply.
Smile fading, Itena looked away. "Occasionally it has, yes. But you are strong. A solution will be found, I am certain of it." Mureln grimaced and got to his feet to walk away and stare out over the grotto's wildlife. "I and my people here serve another purpose, Master Bard. We are the watchers here."
"Ghost guard?" Emil said, echoing Emaris' signed exclamation. "Here? In Fortress? Thought we, er, they only watched, ye know, normal folks. Not th' god touched." Feeling Mureln's stare, he focused on Itena intently.
"Not every person within the Timeless One's territory are Her chosen mortal servants," Itena stated evenly. "And She has welcomed our presence as a balancing strength, because She acknowledges that sometimes an outside influence is needed to steer things back on course, to use a Vodani turn of phrase."
"But what we have seen," Pavin stated in a low voice, shaking his head. "I
t is beyond us to sway enough." Looking between the three men, he stated, "Darkness has returned to Fortress."
Chapter 13
On a barren patch of ground, Storm sat in meditation within the shelter of several boulders. In a nearby cave, the drizar and drizzen laid together in a food stupor. The small chitan, was busily making a mess of her hair as it preened thin strands obsessively. Without opening her eyes, she shifted ever so slightly, her hand moving to the hilt of her two-edged sword. "You must have a death wish," she stated tonelessly, speaking Swordanzen. The chitan raised its head and hissed menacingly, half unfurling its wings.
"And hello to you, too, Githalin Swordanzen," Kendle greeted, moving from where he had concealed himself behind a tree just out of Storm's visual range to lean against it, crossing his arms. He asked with mild curiosity, "If I have a death wish, why am I not dead?"
"Because I choose not to kill you, 'Friend.' This time." She remained unmoved, her eyes still shut. "You helped me protect the lives of my tribe. In return for that, I give you your life." Feral green-gold eyes slit open to glare in Kendle's direction, though the rock shelter obscured him. "I owe you nothing after this, stranger." The underlying warning was abundantly clear.
A flicker of hurt at the word 'stranger' crossed his refined features. Kendle inclined his head. "Fair enough. You dislike being approached too subtly. I can respect that."
"I dislike you," Storm corrected tersely, closing her eyes and returning to her meditations.
"Oh? But you do not even know me," Kendle pointed out mildly.
He smiled at her retort of, "That is why I do not like you."
Considering his options, he decided to sit where he was, crossing his legs in a mirror of her posture, though his vivid blue eyes were fixed on the rock, as if he could see through it to the woman concealed beyond it. "I would offer to rectify that problem, but I suspect you consider that as unwelcome as subtle approaches by strangers." Her answer was a derisive snort. "I have been watching you and the other members of your faction."
