by Lisa Shearin
“And they’re coming from underground,” Malik added. “Precisely where we need to go. Oh joy.”
Dasant’s lip curled in distaste at a bloody smear left when one of the Khrynsani was dragged underground. “And they’ve got a taste for goblins.”
“Glad I’m not a goblin,” Phaelan muttered.
Jash grinned. “If they’ve never had elf, you’ll probably be a delicacy.”
I barely heard any of them.
The sun was up, the sky brightening to what promised to be a cloudless blue.
Except in the distance to the south.
What had looked like the dusky haze of a predawn sky was a rapidly expanding darkness.
This was bad.
“Incoming. Due south,” I said.
“Another storm?” Agata asked.
Phaelan raised his spyglass. “I don’t think so. That’s like no storm cloud I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s not rain,” Malik told us all. “That’s sand, and it’s headed right for us.”
Chapter Seven
The roiling sand was a dark wall coming from the south. I didn’t know about sandstorms on Aquas, but I’d heard of one in the Nebian Desert that lasted for nearly a week.
We didn’t have a week.
And if we got caught in that storm, our time was over.
“Any chance this is the Khrynsani weather wizard’s doing?” I asked Agata.
She shook her head. “I’m not sensing any magic or malevolence behind it.”
“Just Mother Nature’s welcome to Nidaar,” Malik said. “Marvelous.”
Calik was creatively swearing. “Sand at that velocity will blast the skin right off the dragons’ wings.”
“We’d be screwed, too,” Phaelan muttered from the saddle behind me.
Both were true. Though we riders were leather-clad, helmeted, and goggled, our three sentry dragons were about as vulnerable as it was possible to be. Their wings were fibrous skin stretched between long, thin bones. It wouldn’t take much blowing sand to permanently damage a dragon’s wings. Any attempt at flight during the height of this storm would shred their wings completely.
I swung into the saddle. “According to the maps, there should be some small canyons ahead large enough to land in.”
And we just might have company when we got there.
The Khrynsani and Sythsaurians were here. We’d just seen proof. There was one thing I knew from distinctly unpleasant past experience: finding dead Khrynsani meant there were three times as many live ones lying in wait for you.
Let the games begin.
Kansbar had said that the mountains above and around Nidaar had been undamaged by the Heart-spawned earthquakes, meaning that the Heart of Nidaar hadn’t destroyed its own home. However, that need to protect ended at the base of the mountain range.
The force of the quakes had torn the land apart, forming deep canyons that radiated out from the mountains to a distance of approximately ten miles. The canyons narrowed to fissures for nearly another ten miles.
We needed the shelter of one of those deep canyons, and we needed it now.
The good news was that while searching for shelter, we were getting closer to Nidaar’s mountain. The bad news was that the sandstorm was moving faster than our dragons could fly.
The morning sun was now obscured in an eerie twilight. It was as if the storm was spreading from the south to wrap around behind us, herding us toward the mountains. It was the direction we needed to go, but if we didn’t find shelter soon, we’d die before we ever reached our destination.
We were no longer flying together, but had put a couple hundred yards between us to give us a better chance of finding a shelter that would meet our needs.
I guided Mithryn lower.
With the wind speeds increasing, we were almost out of time.
We needed a canyon wide enough to accommodate a dragon’s wingspan, but narrow and twisty enough for adequate protection. A straight canyon would simply concentrate the sand and wind into a narrow space.
None of us would survive that.
A sudden gust of wind buffeted Mithryn’s wings, bobbling us from side to side. Agata reacted by crouching lower in her saddle to cut wind resistance.
Phaelan’s reaction was more verbal.
Then I saw it.
In the distance was what looked like an opening in the rocky ground that met our shelter needs.
I wasn’t the only one to spot it. With a shrill cry to alert her sisters, Mithryn dived for the widest part of the gash, determined that she would fit.
I agreed with her, but pulled back on the reins to slow her approach to a speed less terrifying to those of us on her back.
Phaelan didn’t agree with her at all.
At least his screams were manly.
Mithryn had to tuck in her pinions to fit, and fit she did, but barely.
The other sentry dragons followed suit—without any screaming from their passengers.
The sun was up, but the canyon was still pitch dark. Even my goblin eyes were hard-pressed to make out any details of the rock walls that rose on either side of us. Sentry dragons were cave dwellers. Whether it was too dark to see your hand in front of your face, or high noon, they would find their way.
I reached out with all my senses. No sign of magic, which hopefully meant no mages. Since we had yet to experience one of the Sythsaurian mages up close, their ability to obscure any sign of their magic was still an unknown.
Mithryn touched down on the canyon floor and folded her wings against her sides. Amaranth and Sapphira landed nearby.
In the saddle in front of me, Agata went perfectly still.
I leaned forward. “What?”
“No tremors.”
When we were closer to the Heart of Nidaar than we had ever been, the stone went silent.
“I can’t see that being a bad thing right now,” I said.
“Me, either.”
“Well, I can’t see anything,” Phaelan said from behind me.
“Saffie, give us some light,” Calik said from nearby.
She obliged, sending out a modest-sized gout of flame. Whatever had eaten those Khrynsani and Sythsaurians lived below the surface. We were now below the surface. We didn’t know what those creatures were, but we did know that some of the Khrynsani’s top mages had gotten themselves eaten. It’s been my experience that fire will cause monsters to at least pause before they ate you.
Saffie’s blast showed walls that widened toward the canyon floor like the bottom of a pyramid. That would give the dragons enough room to take off again once the storm had passed. They might need to turn sideways to clear the top of the canyon walls, but that wouldn’t be an issue for our nimble sentries.
Everyone quickly dismounted, shielded, and conjured lightglobes. If there was anything down here with us that wanted to kill and/or eat us, we didn’t have time to waste trying to hide from it. Right now, that sandstorm was scarier than a mystery monster.
Calik nimbly dismounted from Sapphira. “Let’s find cover for the dragons.”
I leapt from my saddle and sent my lightglobe along the ground directly in front of me—ground that wasn’t dirt.
“It’s a floor,” Agata said, her voice awestruck.
The floor stretched from one wall to the other and as far as Sapphira’s fire blast had extended. It wasn’t ornate, just perfectly smooth and level—without any seams whatsoever.
“All of this was once covered,” Agata continued, sliding down Mithryn’s flank. This time I was there to catch her.
“Notice how the walls are smooth up to at least fifty feet,” she continued, “and curved inward. The quake must have collapsed the ceiling and opened it to the surface.”
“She’s right,” Elsu said. “This has been hand carved. Nothing fancy, but nice work.”
It wasn’t a canyon at all. It hadn’t been worn by water or opened as a result of one of Aquas’s earthquakes. What was open to the sky had once been covered by san
dstone. The broken rock lying in piles on the canyon’s floor proved it—as did the intact façade.
I pushed more of my will into the lightglobe hovering above my open hand, both brightening its light and expanding its range.
And illuminated a wonder.
“Holy crap,” Talon managed.
I stared. We all did. It was all I could do.
Carved into the canyon’s wall was the façade of a building: a temple, from the sheer size of it. A pair of giant doors were standing open, doors that were easily three times my height with an opening wide enough to accommodate a sentry dragon.
Agata stepped up beside me.
“Ever seen anything like this?”
“Never.”
I reached out with my magical senses and scanned for any hint of danger. “Jash? Is there—”
“Not a soul.”
“Then how about—”
“And no soulless monsters, either.”
Dasant tossed his supply pack over his shoulder. “Since nobody’s home, boss, may I suggest we invite ourselves in?”
Chapter Eight
After a quick inspection of the interior, we got the dragons inside to safety.
The ceiling soared above our heads, allowing our sentry dragons to stretch to their full height, working out the kinks and sore muscles that had come with flying all night. There was also ample room for extending their wings for the same purpose. Jash activated his microportal to get fresh water for all of us, but especially the dragons. Once they were full, the ladies carefully folded their wings and settled down for a much-deserved rest.
Elsu used her booted foot to slide her pack against a nearby wall. “The girls have the right idea. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”
“Agreed,” I said. “Let’s get some rest while we can. We’ll need it.” Talon had started to wander off to explore. “That especially means you and Agata.”
I expected an argument, but Talon didn’t give me one. Apparently fatigue won out over curiosity. Agata had already found a place to rest. Calik was busy checking the dragons for any injuries.
The rest of us separated to explore our temporary home. How temporary remained to be seen. The sandstorm outside showed us no signs of abating; in fact, it sounded like it was increasing in intensity.
We were alert, but I didn’t feel any danger, and Jash didn’t sense any signs of life except for ourselves.
When we completed the circuit, we returned to where the others waited.
“Any sign of Khrynsani?” Talon asked anyone who might know.
“They’ve got a special stink all their own, no magic needed,” Jash told him. “It doesn’t matter how long they’ve been out of their temple; they can’t get rid of that nasty temple incense smell. All my nose is smelling right now is dust.”
“How about Sythsaurians?”
“Haven’t had the misfortune of standing downwind of one, but I know what their magic feels like. They’re not here, either.”
Jash had said no one was at home, but someone had built all this long ago, and the fact that it was now abandoned invoked quiet, if not reverence.
It was easily four times the size of the throne room in the Mal’Salin palace, and that was ridiculously large, intended to instill awe and fear in all who walked through its doors.
“We found this place just in time,” Agata said quietly.
We’d left the temple doors partially open, but had shielded the open space to keep out the sand—and any unwanted guests/predators. However, shields didn’t block out sound. The sandstorm’s winds howled down the length of the canyon.
Standing in the temple doorway, Calik had to tilt his head all the way back to see the canyon rim. “Taking off again might not be as simple.”
Phaelan barked a laugh. “Getting in here was simple?”
Calik shrugged. “You steer a ship over giant waves; I dive a dragon into a hole in the ground. When it comes time to get airborne again, the girls will need enough room for a full wing extension. However, they are excellent jumpers and climbers. They can scale these walls with no problem.”
“No problem for them,” Phaelan retorted.
Malik chuckled. “We’d have to sedate Captain Benares and tie him in his saddle.”
“Talon didn’t scream on the way down,” Calik said.
“Because I couldn’t breathe.” Talon slowly turned in a circle. “Why is there one way in and no way out?”
There were no hallways, doors, or stairs leading anywhere else. It was strange, to say the least, and had all of us on edge.
“No clue,” Jash replied for all of us. “But that means only one place to post a guard.” He grinned and held up his bucket. “I’m back on water duty, so someone else is going to have to pull the first guard rotation.”
“I’ll do it,” Dasant said around a bite of jerky. “I caught a couple of short naps while we were flying.”
Phaelan stared in disbelief. “You slept? You’re a pilot!”
Dasant shrugged. “When you fly a lot, it gets kind of boring after a while. Amaranth knows what she’s doing. She doesn’t need me to tell her to stay in formation.”
“I’ll back you up,” Elsu said, “in case you get bored and fall asleep again.”
Rest was needed, but we were all too keyed up.
Our survey of the room hadn’t offered up many clues about what this building had been used for. Any details that may have remained on the floors and walls were obscured by sand that had been blown in through the open doors. Judging from the amount of sand inside, those doors had been open for years, perhaps even centuries.
We weren’t alone in this desert waste. I could feel it. Jash had yet to sense that we were being followed. He was right; we weren’t being followed. The Khrynsani were already here. We’d seen the proof only an hour ago. Perhaps others were seeking shelter from the storm as we were, in a similar structure nearby.
We had discovered a trough-like pool carved against an interior wall to the left of the doors. Jash had used his microportal to refill our water skins, and was now refilling the trough for the dragons. Magic of any kind made noise, even briefly opening a small portal. I had no doubt there were people listening for us, so the less magic we used, the better. However, warding the doors and replenishing our water supply was necessary and worth the risk.
“Do you think this is—or was—part of Nidaar?” Talon asked.
“I can’t see it being anything else,” I told him. “But there must be more to it than this. Who would excavate something this extensive and leave it a dead end?”
“And why?” Agata added. She looked around, then held out her hand. “Let me have your ring. I want to try something.”
I gave it to her. “Get a better fix on the Heart and perhaps another way out of here?”
Her lips quirked in a brief smile. “Kesyn was wrong. The obvious doesn’t always elude you.”
I felt her gently push her will into the stones, and both began to flicker, then softly glow. She went to the nearest wall and began a slow circuit of the chamber. I followed at enough of a distance so my magic wouldn’t interfere. Malik joined me.
Agata slowed further once she reached the back wall, holding the pendant in one hand and the ring in the other, continually pushing her power through both.
The stones’ light suddenly went from a glow to what I could only call an excited sparkle.
The wall responded.
Roughly five feet above our heads, two round, shield-sized areas of the wall began to shimmer beneath their coating of dust.
“What is that?” Malik breathed from beside me.
The others quickly joined us.
“Whatever it is, the sand’s covering it,” I said.
Agata turned to me, her dark eyes sparkling with excitement much like the stones she carried. “Can dragons blow air as well as fire?”
“That they can,” Calik replied.
We put on our goggles and covered our lower faces. Between
the sulfuric breath and flying sand, breathing was a challenge. We ended up retreating to the entrance while the sand and dust settled.
What was revealed was worth any discomfort—as well as our all-night flight.
The outside doors may have succumbed to the elements long ago, but these were perfectly preserved. The doors were easily twice our height, but narrow. Each door was no more than three feet wide, and unlike the surrounding walls, each appeared to be carved from a single slab of obsidian.
I sent a lightglobe up to one of two pale disks that had been set into the doors. They were over a foot across, and when the globe’s light struck it, the disk’s interior flickered like flames.
Encircling each disk was what looked like a serpentine golden dragon.
The disks were identical to the pendant the Cha’Nidaar queen had given my ancestor—the one Agata Azul now wore.
Malik swore softly. “Is that—”
“Yes, it just might be.”
An entrance to Nidaar.
Chapter Nine
“Who knew dragons were so useful? First a bellows, and now a ladder.” Phaelan stood looking up at the huge glowing disks.
Sapphira was standing on her hind legs in front of the doors with her long neck extended as far up as it would go.
Agata was perched on top of the dragon’s head, inches from one of the stone disks.
One of Jash’s buckets full of water was hooked on Saffie’s left horn, and Agata was cleaning the disks and golden dragons of centuries of grime.
Talon was busy beneath Sapphira doing the same with the door itself. When I’d asked why, Talon said he was curious about something. He was focused, so I didn’t ask any more questions. Talon had good instincts; there could be something important under all that dust.
When one of the disk’s dragon frames had been cleaned, Sapphira had begun warily sniffing at it.
The sentry dragon wasn’t sure how she felt about all this.
I was.
The two huge disks could be the beginning of an even bigger problem.
I’d assumed that the stone that comprised the Heart of Nidaar would be extremely rare, limited only to the Heart itself and a few smaller pieces, like those in the ring and pendant.
