Elder Relech turned and searched Mara’s eyes. “Tell me this, girl, did the image of your friend represent his features correctly? Was it true to his nature? Or was there any specific detail that was false?”
Mara thought about his questions, remembering back to the hideous image of Talis being tortured. It was all so real, nothing was a fabrication, how he moved, how the expression of pain lined his beautiful face. She was so incredibly certain that it was Talis—then and now.
“I’m absolutely sure it was Talis.”
“Well, then, that settles it. Your friend was here in Manor Top. And either he is still alive, taken elsewhere—although that seems unlikely—or simply put, he is dead.”
Mara found her knees buckling and she collapsed back onto the hard floor. If Talis was dead then what use did she have for living? She was far off on another world, impossible for her to return home. And even if she could return home, what kind of a home was there waiting for her? This all had to be a mistake, Talis couldn’t be dead, could he? She’d find the truth, find out what had happened to him, find the answers—no matter what the cost. Even if it meant killing again.
“We need evidence…evidence of his death. The master has commanded me to find the truth and to bring your friend back. The plan has gone awry, our mission is in jeopardy. Clearly there is evidence that he has been tortured, and that is a risk to our cause. Your friend knows too much already. And now it is likely that the ancients of Vellia know the truth of our return. We have lost the element of surprise. They are waiting for us.”
“But do you think he is alive? Is my friend alive or dead?” All that blood on the wall, all his blood, all the agony on his face—they’d caused it all. But why? What had Talis ever done to them? He knows too much. But then again, so did she. The ancients of this planet, they probably know far more magic than Talis could ever dream of. Their power was too great. Yet that power hadn’t stopped Prince DeSabrian from dying a hideous death at the hand of Mara’s blade. She’d killed him in a single strike, and the memory pleased her; it brought a feeling of cold pleasure recalling the sensation of the man’s warm blood dribbling down her wrist.
Elder Relech frowned and studied the wall where Talis had once hung. His eyes held a dark, faraway look, as if peering into the depths of hell. He inhaled a stuttered, pained breath, pinched his eyes closed, and pronounced his verdict.
“I have visited the Guardians of the Underworld and they have spoken to me of what they have seen. Your friend has left this world, he has been taken by the strong, cold hands, and he walks the Grim March.
“Your young Talis is dead.”
10. GHAELSTROM
The Dragon King Valeron opened his massive jaws and belched out fire mixed with laughter. Billowing puffs of sulfurous smoke wafted from his nostrils, bathing Talis in a noxious cloud.
“You…? This boy is the fulfillment of legend?” The dragon ambled closer to Talis and peered in close as if inspecting a mouse. “You were not large as a dragon and even more insignificant as a human! Tell me, Lord of Ash, how is it that you’ve found such a human that can change his form into a dragon?”
“As all good mages do, in the world of dreams. And interestingly enough, the boy made his way to the other side of his world and came to me. And the truth? He is the reason for my ability to return to Vellia after all these millennia.”
Valeron snorted, and swayed his head back to inspect Talis. “Really? A boy did what you could not succeed at doing in over four thousand years? Now that is very interesting, indeed. Go on, Aurellia, tell me more. You’re words captivate me.”
Aurellia sneered suspiciously, as if discovering some insult in the king’s words. “The boy has learned the dragon form through me—”
“Actually it was Palarian who taught me how to discover my form, in the Netherworld.” Talis felt the icy stabs of fear strike his heart as Aurellia glowered at him.
“What? Can it be true? My old friend and advisor, Lord Palarian?” The dragon king stretched himself up and beat his massive wings, causing a burst of wind to strike Talis’s face. “Tell me, Lord of Ash, has Palarian also returned to Vellia? I earnestly desire to banter with him again. How I miss his wicked wit.”
The dark lord composed himself and made a small, apologetic bow to the dragon. “Unfortunately, he has not yet returned. He is leading an important mission for us….”
“Mission? What kind of mission has detained him? I do hope this mission of his does not keep him for long. If only I could see his conniving face again—that trickster, that devil, ah…my old, dear friend.”
Talis couldn’t help but be charmed and amused by the dragon’s antics. And seeing how uncomfortable the subject was to Aurellia made it even more worthwhile. The dark lord paused in contemplation. Perhaps he was picturing Palarian holding up the twin portals, fueled by the power of the ancient turtle’s twin crystal eyes. Whatever it was that Aurellia was thinking, the wheels of his mind were racing.
“I’m afraid his mission is too critical for him to return to Vellia.”
“How is that? Come now, Lord of Ash. You sought me out, you came to me seeking an alliance for your cause. Why should I help you? So what if this boy can conjure illusions and transform himself into a dragon. Do you believe dragon-kind to be so naive? That we would blindly follow you into war at the first sight of your little novelty?”
Aurellia’s eyes turned the color of black ink. “I came because I believe you to be reasonable. I came with evidence of fulfillment of prophecy. I came with logic—pointing out the error in the thinking of these light-blinded humans of Vellia. Now you and the dragons of Ghaelstrom can either hide in your hole and continue to submit to the whims of these fools, or you can listen to my plan and do something to change things!”
“Temper, temper, my dear Aurellia. Let’s remain civil. I only asked a reasonable question. What is detaining my dear friend Palarian from returning to Vellia?”
The dark lord’s voice went soft. “He is holding up the portals.”
“What’s that? Speak up, man. I couldn’t hear your words.”
“You heard me, King Valeron. Your dear friend Lord Palarian is detained from returning, as he is holding up the portals connecting three worlds.”
The words “Starwalker” echoed across the city, causing a commotion amongst the dragons. Even the king seemed unsettled at what Aurellia had said.
“And why is he required to hold up the portals any longer? Are you waiting on more of your loyal followers to return to Vellia? Are they slow in finding their way to the portal?” There was a hint of sarcasm in the king’s gravelly voice. “Or is it you’re afraid of failing in your mission and you desire a way back to your little shadowy world? I assure you, the journey down into the Underworld is much faster, Lord of Ash.”
A wry smile formed on Aurellia’s face. “How I miss your dark wit, King Valeron. Indeed, our armies and loyal followers have all returned. And yet you as well as I know there is not a way of return for me or any of my followers. Vellia is my home.”
“Then good! It is settled. Relieve Palarian of his duties and bring him back to me.” All cheer and good nature left King Valeron as he towered over Aurellia, smoke belching from his nostrils. “Or leave Ghaelstrom forever and be named an enemy of all dragon-kind.”
Talis and Aurellia retired to a house in the old quarter of Ghaelstrom, the area reserved for human guests of the dragon city. The quarter was lonely now, empty of other visitors, and as Aurellia mentioned, probably lacking any guests for many years. The dark lord was quiet as he left to meditate in his room, after swearing to King Valeron that he would contact his Elders and have Palarian come to Ghaelstrom. Talis remained in the main room, warming his hands by a fire at the hearth.
What would it mean if Palarian returned to Vellia? Would they be trapped here, with no way of going back home? Talis dreaded the idea of being stranded out here for an eternity and never seeing his family again. And yet, with Palarian freed, he might have
another ally to help in his struggle for freedom. What about Mara and Nikulo, were they still on the island with the other Elders? Something told him they weren’t there anymore. If all of Aurellia’s followers had come through the world’s portal, then they had most likely already left to wherever it was they were heading.
Unable to make his mind stretch out any further into the realm of possibilities, Talis stared at the fire blazing at the hearth, mesmerized by the undulating flames and rippling shadows. He thought of Mara, toiling away under Elder Relech’s twisted training. Would she be able to survive? And Nikulo, would he help protect Mara? Then he laughed, picturing Mara’s feisty eyes, and knew that it was probably Mara that would keep Nikulo safe. Somehow he had a certainty that Mara would survive, no matter what.
His eyelids felt heavy, so he gave up resisting and closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of the fire hot on his face. Soon tiny, blue ringlets appeared in his mind’s eye, lulling his thoughts far off in the distance where they couldn’t be heard. Blue changed to green and the circles changed to a red fire lapping around a single, massive eye. He was being watched, impassively, without emotion, without concern. The eye blinked and retreated off into the distance, revealing the somber face of King Valeron.
“I’d say that went rather nicely, wouldn’t you?” The dragon ran a long claw in-between two teeth, where a small bone was stuck. “Yes, yes, that was quick thinking of you, mentioning Palarian—he is an old friend. I was sad to see him choosing the losing side, back so many years. Tell me, has he turned bitter and stale like old, crusty bread?”
“No, he is still like how you described him—witty and a trickster with a sense of humor. I rather like him, actually. I was sad to leave him there on Chandrix.”
“You know, your master, Lord of Ash as I call him, is quite right about many things—and that is what fools so many people. I thought Palarian was smart enough to stay clear of all that foolishness, and he did, for a long time, but then a group of ancients went out to explore. Young fools.
“A monk in his meditations had discovered Yorek—your world—and a group of young men and women with a craving for adventure decided to go on an expedition for a few years, five at the most. Aurellia was chief amongst that group. And at the time he was dabbling in the black arts, especially after his visit here to Ghaelstrom, where he journeyed deep into the heart of the mountain, where strange things lurk, and ore from the stars sleeps eternally.”
Talis created a soft, golden light around his fingers and shaped the light into iridescent butterflies that flittered around the room of his dream. “How did Palarian get involved in the expedition?”
“My old friend had just returned from a cave monastery high in these mountains near the tip of the world. For over one hundred years he had been perfecting the art of atomistic weaving, as he called it, where he could form any object through the power of his mind and magic. It was his habit to come and stay with me each year, in the house where you now dwell. I always looked forward to his visits and the conversations we would have over the long hours while we roasted sheep over low fires.”
“And was that when you first met Palarian?”
The king released a smoky laugh and his eyes looked at Talis as an adult would look at a baby. “No, young mage, my old friend is very old indeed, as old as some of our oldest dragons, yet not nearly as old as I. Palarian crossed paths with me over ten thousand years ago, when he was on a quest to find the Kingdom of the Dragons. Well, he found us, and explored the depths of Ghaelstrom, quite like your master, Aurellia. I suspect the reason Aurellia came to Ghaelstrom was because of Palarian. He was a teacher and master to the Lord of Ash.”
Palarian was Aurellia’s master and teacher? But King Valeron’s words made sense. If Aurellia was once a student to Palarian, then likely there would always be a distance between the two, especially since Aurellia veered so far away into the world of shadow magic.
“So when Palarian returned to the Kingdom of Zhael and found the capitol city buzzing with the news of an expedition to the newly discovered world called Yorek, he crossed paths with Aurelia. They quickly formed a bond, with Aurellia hungry for knowledge and power, and Palarian curious by this incredibly talented young mage. And when Aurellia was determined to go on the expedition to Yorek, Palarian reluctantly agreed to go along and act as the leader of the expeditionary force.”
“And that’s the last you heard of them?”
“No, I wish that was the last of it. We heard of the trouble in Yorek, the strife and divisiveness amongst the expedition. And word arrived that a black crystal had been found, a crystal of great power. The Ancients of Vellia requested the crystal be brought back for further study, but those following Aurellia ignored them and magically split the crystal in half and founded the twin cities of Yorek: Urgar and Darkov. They planted each half of the crystal underneath each city, and fused the crystals together as one through an energetic bond—despite the distance between the cities. And Aurellia sent his spies and insurrectionists back to Vellia, hoping to overthrow this world, but they were slain. The entire expeditionary group in Yorek was banished from Vellia, and the link between the worlds cut off. That is until now.”
Talis sighed, remembering the desolate ruin of Urgar, and the bleak, powerful city of Darkov. “Are you sure this plan will work against Aurellia?”
“It has worked so far. Once Palarian is here things will go in our favor. We just have to be patient. For now, I’ll leave you to your rest. Dream the dreamless sleep, young dragon mage.”
In the dark, still night, a cold, bony hand shook his shoulder, and Talis awoke with a start. Aurellia frowned as he motioned him to rise and follow. He handed him his pack and told him to stay quiet and unseen as they walked through the city. Talis wondered what his master was planning. They sneaked down through a winding alleyway lined with flowers and clusters of mushrooms all growing in long, crystal pots. How could the dragons take care of this part of the city?
When they had arrived in Ghaelstrom, the light was brighter and yet still soft, but now the city had the feeling of the hours before sunrise, with a hazy, somber light bathing the buildings in hues of mauve and amber and fuchsia. For such a vast, clean-lined city from above, the city below was as intricate and well tended as a royal garden. Hanging lanterns spewed warm, soothing gaslight in front of darkly stained doors that stooped too low for an adult to pass through without bending over. Were they really alone here?
Blue, luminescent eyes peering behind leaded windows provided the answer. Talis jumped in fright and moved away from where the eyes were watching him. He glanced around and felt a chill as he spotted other blue eyes staring at him.
11. THE HEART
“Keep up!” Aurellia hissed, and followed Talis’s gaze to a window. “They are just gnomes, you fool. Haven’t you ever seen gnomes before? Hurry up before they invite you in for tea. Then we’ll never get out of here before the dragons wake up.”
Where were they going? Talis thought the whole reason to come to Ghaelstrom was to ally with the dragons. But now they were leaving? As they approached a dark tunnel leading down into the mountain, Talis glanced back and noticed several, small gnomes standing in front of their doors staring at him with their blue eyes. The creatures were barely more than half his height and had the shrewdest, most conniving expressions on their faces as if they were planning something devilish. Their stares were so unnerving that Talis caught himself glancing back down the tunnel to see if they were following them.
“Gnomes are curious, inventive sort of folk.” Aurellia flicked a finger and summoned a green, eerie orb of light. “They coexist with the dragons and keep the city clean and orderly. Their elders craft magical artifacts in their workshops from powerful ores and crystals lodged inside the mountain.”
“Where are we going?” Talis realized his voice sounded weak and frightened, and he regretted speaking.
Aurellia scoffed and plunged deeper down the tunnel, ignoring Talis’s question
. After an hour or so of hiking, the way widened to make room for a hole in the tunnel, where a rope fell down into a black abyss. Aurellia peered into the hole and sent powerful orbs of green light down into the cavern. Talis let out a yelp of surprise as the orbs illuminated a vast cathedral room the size of a mountain, filled with bones of creatures twenty times as large as the largest dragon.
“The graveyard of the titans,” Aurellia proclaimed. “These bones are as old as time itself. They were old when I first visited here over four thousand years ago. Legend says that when the ancients tired of the incessant quaking of the land, they came to slay the titans and bring peace to their kingdom. Of course the humans failed at first, but they never gave up. And over generations and generations of warriors, they eventually slew the titans one after another until they were all dead.”
The dark lord cast a spell and Talis found the familiar feeling of being able to fly. They dove into the deep and soared over the eerily-lit, massive skulls and skeletal frames, some still holding gigantic spears, many titans still standing, still staring in defiance, prepared to do battle to defend their land. The poses of the titans were what shocked Talis the most. It was as if some powerful magic had frozen the titans in battle, seared the flesh and muscle from their bodies, and kept the bones frozen as stone, locked for an eternity.
“When the titans were defeated, the ancients explored deeper down into the heart of the mountain.” Aurellia plummeted in between two titans and the green light ahead of them illuminated a crumbling mine shaft entrance. Once inside, the dark lord’s voice was a low, wistful memory. “Those early explorers found a terrible power stored within the mountain’s ores: metal from the birth of the stars, and metal from the collapse and death of the stars. Twin forces of terrific energy. Crystals imbued with both poles of power. Some men died from the power, some went mad, some were enlightened, and some developed a bloodlust for power—power of all kinds that the world offers.
Dragon Mage (Blacklight Chronicles) Page 8
