by Jordan Baker
"No, I will not ask for mercy," Dakar said. "But I will tell you some things you might find useful. Even with the book, the god is not as powerful as he pretends to be. His magic cannot control the Darga though that is a problem he hopes to solve, and there are times when he fights with Cerric and maybe others within him for control. Much of the time he is Cerric, the king of Maramyr, using the power of Kenra the god of shadows and mysteries, but he has also claimed to be Kroma, the god of the mountain and I have wondered about this."
"That is interesting about the Darga creatures," Stroma said. "They are related to dragonkind, who follow no gods. As for Kenra's lies, pretending to be Kroma, and hiding in the guise of this king, Cerric, that is hardly a revelation."
"I do not think he pretends," Dakar said. "I believe Kroma is within him, and it causes him much confusion, even though he hides it."
"I thought Kenra stole Kroma's power when he killed him," Ehlena said, echoing the memories of the goddess.
"Perhaps not," Stroma said, then he looked at Dakar. "It may be that some part of Kroma survives within him, and if this mage is correct, I would imagine that it would not have made the last thousand years particularly enjoyable. You have offered something of value, but if you think to bargain with me, you are sorely mistaken, mage."
"I seek no bargain," Dakar said. "If I could offer more to help stop the power of the shadow, I would."
"And you think you are to be trusted?"
"Trusted? I have been under the power of the book for the greater part of my life, there is no reason to trust me," Dakar said. "Believe what you will and do what you will."
Stroma let out a great sigh, then he slid Dakar's hand from the book and picked it up. He looked at it for a moment then he slipped it into his robe with the other two copies he carried. He turned from the mage and began to walk away and Ehlena hung back for a moment, conflicted with what she knew was undeserved sympathy for Dakar and anger over the things he had done, the role he had played in bringing Kenra back into the world.
Though she had argued for mercy, the damage that had already been wrought because of Dakar's actions, and the thought of the darkness that was growing inside Aaron were surely reasons enough to punish the mage, but she also knew that Dakar would have been under the influence of the book, compelled by Kenra to many of the things he did, and though he was still responsible for his actions, it was perhaps to a lesser degree. Since only Stroma knew how the magic of the book truly worked, having created it in the first place, the decision was ultimately his, and it seemed he had made up his mind. Ehlena frowned, and took one last look at the mage, her thoughts only of pity, then she turned and hurried after Stroma.
"Please," Dakar said, calling after Stroma, his voice cracking and shaking.
Stroma stopped.
"Please just let me die."
Ehlena gently touched the back of Stroma's arm and she realized it was something that Ayra would have done long ago and she took her hand away, feeling that it was not her place to do such a thing. The god turned and stared at her.
"You are so much like her," he said, quietly, masking his voice from Dakar, then he walked back toward the mage.
Stroma took the book from his robes and closed his eyes. Ehlena could not see exactly what he was doing, but she felt a gentle pulse of magic in the room and the subtle, natural shifts in the air inside the chamber slowed. A moment later, she heard the sound of the book snapping closed and Stroma turned and walked away from the mage, putting the book away once again. He continued past her, his expression dark as he walked away and Ehlena saw Dakar slowly push back the chair and rise to stand on his feet. She smiled a little, not so much for Dakar, but glad that Stroma had seen fit to show some measure of mercy, that his heart had not been hardened completely by his own ordeal, then she turned and hurried after him.
Dakar watched the god leave and he felt a little sensation return to his flesh, and the sickening feeling that had been eating away at him began to fade. His body was no longer a frozen corpse, but he realized that he was not entirely alive either. Somehow, Stroma had halted his decay, and given him enough control over his limbs that he could move freely. Dakar reached for his power and he felt how little of it remained, barely enough to accomplish even the simplest of magics and he knew immediately that if he dared to use it, he would die in an instant, for it was all that sustained him. Dakar walked across the room, his steps unsteady, his limbs lacking the strength to run after the god, who had left the library only moments ago.
"Wait," he called and he reached out as he crossed the threshold of the room.
Dakar stopped and snatched his hand back as it immediately began to wither and crack. He stumbled backwards into the room and clutched his hand to his chest and watched as it slowly healed, but only as much as it had been before, still tight and aged, and he felt a little of his essence drain away. He sat down on the floor and realized that even though he was free of the book, free of the power of the dark god, and free of the magical trap he had caught himself in, he was now in a different trap, cursed never to leave this room, for he would surely die if he did. Dakar looked around at the thousands of books on so many shelves, and he wept, for the god had not granted his request, but had instead given him a choice, which was much harder to accept, but he knew it was a far greater mercy, for at least his will was now his own.
Ehlena walked with Stroma past the pillars of the entrance and along the ancient stone path that quickly faded to grass, his powerful strides forcing her to take a few extra steps to keep up with him. She could tell that he was in a dark mood, but she was unsure whether it had to do with the mage or something to do with having opened the book.
"Is all well?" she asked. "It appears that you were successful with the magic of the book?"
"No," he said. "The magic of the book has been corrupted. I thought there might be a way, but it has become so twisted and dark with shadows that it was not possible."
"And yet you freed the mage," Ehlena said.
"No," Stroma told her. "I did not free him. I merely expanded he magic that kept him alive and tied it to the structure of the library. There is enough resonant power in those old stones to last several lifetimes, but he can never leave that place or he will die."
"Then it was a mercy," she said.
"I would call it a curse," Stroma said. "At least if he tires of it, he has but to walk out the door."
"Then it is fair," Ehlena said. "He can no longer harm anyone, and perhaps he can find a way to atone for the things he had done."
"At least he has books to read," Stroma commented. "He has some catching up to do though. I spent most of the last thousand years in libraries."
"I can think of worse places to be," Ehlena said, smiling at him. "If I were ever cursed in such a way, I would prefer to have a garden."
"You truly are like her," he said. "Though I have a complete understanding of how it is that you and she are one and the same, it appears that Ayra chose well."
"Thank you," Ehlena said. "We will both take that as a compliment, as we are one."
Stroma shook his head and smiled, then he gathered his power and searched for the next book in the direction he already knew it would be. A moment later, with a crack of thunder, the two of them disappeared, leaving the windswept island of bluish green grass and fallen columns, an empty place, save for the bodies of dead mages and the one who remained, barely alive, and haunting the ancient library like a spirit.
CHAPTER FIVE
Fire. Thick waves of heat. Currents of scorching energy, rippling with color, scents and tastes of ash, stone and metal. Harsh, acrid bubbles, slowly rising, bursting wet and thick upon the surface above.
Ariana floated in a strange sea of liquid fire, petrified at what she had done and barely able to comprehend that she had not been burned to death. Disoriented by the heat and the thick flows that moved around her, she slowly found her consciousness. All around her, within the hot, reddish glow, were colors, some of w
hich she had never seen before. They swirled around her in infinite and captivating hues and shades that were almost entrancing, but something kept pulling her away, calling to her.
Ariana felt her heart pounding louder in her chest, the beat of it thrumming in her skull as the instinct to breathe was countered by another instinct that told her to let the heat flow through her. It was too much for her and Ariana felt as sense of panic begin to take hold. In a corner of her mind, she knew that heat would rise and the popping sounds would be at the surface. She swam through the heavy, burning liquid, pushing herself as hard as she could. Finally, she broke through the surface and gasped for breath, sucking in heat and smoke and choking burning air as molten fire slid from her cheeks.
She opened her eyes and saw the dark outline of rock ahead and she swam toward it. Finally, reaching its edge, Ariana slowly pulled herself out from the hot flow of lava and she lay on the rock for a moment, breathing slowly, gathering her thoughts, which felt as though they had scattered in all directions. She pushed herself to her feet and noticed that she still held the jeweled dagger in her hand. The heat had not damaged it, and it seemed that it was slightly longer than it had been, though she was not sure, for it could easily be the heat playing tricks on her and she blinked, trying to clear her head, simply grateful that she was still alive, and part of her wondering how it was possible, while another part of her accepted that it should be so.
Ariana turned and looked back across the waves of heat that rose from the rivers of lava and tried to see the place atop the rocks from where she had leapt, but nothing looked familiar. With vision that was somehow different than before, she saw that the rivers of liquid fire were moving in currents and eddies and realized that she had no idea how long she had been beneath the surface, nor how far the flows might have carried her. The only thing Ariana knew for sure was the direction she had to go, and she set off across the scorching rocks, and wading through the lava with her bare feet as though it were only mud.
The intensity of the heat did not bother her at all, just as she had not felt the biting cold outside the dwellings of the village in the snow and Ariana wondered if it was the effect of the gems that had been attached to her body. She glanced down at them and stopped in her tracks. The places where the gems had been were no longer simple holes poked in her skin, but were now completely fused with her, and it was as though the gemstones had grown into clusters, spreading outward in almost natural seeming patterns. Her skin had also taken on a strange luster, almost metallic and she recognized the look of it from the colors she had seen underneath the lava flows. Ariana ran her fingers over her body and found that much of her skin was no different, except for the places where the crystalline gems had formed into what almost like scales. She was surprised at how she could still feel even the slightest touch even though the gemstones were completely solid. She also noticed that even her fingernails seemed to be harder and a little longer, and the edges, where they met her flesh, were encrusted with tiny jewels.
Ariana was not sure what to make of such things, and though she knew the changes in her should be strange and disconcerting, she felt as though they were perfectly natural. Either way, there was nothing she could do about any of it and she knew she had to keep going. She continued on and came to another lava flow that was like a wide river and, without even slowing her step, she dove into it and swam toward the rock bank on the other side.
As she was nearly all the way across, Ariana felt a strange presence approaching her and she heard echoes in her thoughts, harsh, violent and intense emotions that reminded her of when she first received the gift from King Eric. There was no mistaking the nature of such thoughts and she swam harder, reaching the bank just as a large, dark shadow appeared over her. The dragon let out a shrieking roar, flaring its wings and settled on a high ridge ahead of her, overlooking the bank of smooth, black rock as Ariana pulled herself out, dripping lava and continuing to walk forward in the direction she knew she had to go, walking toward a wide gap between the rocks. Strangely, she felt no fear of the creature, though she understood its rageful challenge. It bellowed at her again as she walked toward its perch and she stopped.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice echoing with strange and powerful sounds, akin to those of the dragon.
"What are you?" The dragon rumbled, its voice echoing in her mind as much as it reverberated in the air around her.
"What am I?" Ariana found the question strange and the answer that came into her thought also seemed strange, even as she uttered the words. "I am."
"Who are you?" the dragon asked.
"Who am I?" For a moment, she was not entirely sure. In her thoughts, she knew her name, but for a moment, she was not sure how to speak it. One thought came to her, as clear as the crystals that now adorned her body, a better answer to the first question the dragon had asked. "I am a queen."
The dragon shuffled its clawed feet and Ariana caught the faint impression that the creature was somehow uncomfortable with her presence.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"I am Storm."
Ariana suddenly got the impression that he was male, and somewhat young, in dragon terms, though she was not sure exactly what that might mean.
"Storm," Ariana said his name.
"Have you come seeking vassals?" he asked.
"No," she told him. "I seek a friend."
"You seek Akandar."
"Yes," Ariana said, her heart beating more quickly at the mention of the name. "Do you know where he might be?"
"I do."
"I must find him."
"You are his queen."
Ariana was not sure exactly how to answer the question except in the terms of the dragon thoughts that echoed in her mind.
"I am," she said.
"You must go to Akandar," he told her.
"Yes," Ariana said. "I must find him."
"You must go to Akandar now."
"Yes, I am trying to go to him." Ariana began to feel a little impatient.
"You will not get there unless you fly." The dragon shifted on his feet again. "Akandar will die."
"Please," Ariana said. "Can you take me to him?"
"You cannot fly," Storm said, cocking his head to the side and Ariana began to hear more of his thoughts. "You are a queen but you cannot fly. You are strange to me."
"It does not matter," Ariana said. "I must get to him. Will you take me?"
"If you wish to make me your vassal, you must defeat me in battle."
"I do not want to fight you," Ariana said, her anger flaring in frustration. "I must get to Borrican. Please take me to him or show me the way."
"You will fight me," he said. "I accept your challenge."
The dragon spread his wings and roared, with smoke and wisps of fire coming from between the rows of pointed teeth and fangs.
"No," Ariana said. "I do not wish fight you."
"You must," he said and he leapt from his perch and dropped to the ground in front of her, blocking her way. "If you want to fly, you must defeat me. I accept your challenge."
Ariana felt powerful emotions welling up inside of her, molten fire and raw energy far greater than she had ever experienced flooded to her fingertips and, almost without thinking, her entire body burst into flames. The dragon roared and leapt toward her and, instinctively, she threw a ball of fire at him. The flames hit him square in the chest and he stopped, surprised at first, but then he burst into what Ariana knew was laughter and then he continued forward, swiping his claws at her.
She ducked beneath his powerful reach and the force of the wind from it alone nearly knocked her over. Ariana focused her power on becoming fast like the woman, Dala, and stronger as well as heavier upon the ground, hoping she could still move quickly, and trying to alternate between them. Storm swung his arm back, scraping it across the ground this time and Ariana disappeared, reappearing a moment later, beside him. She reached down and scooped a large chunk of rock from the ground, as big as sh
e was, and threw it at his head. Caught by surprise, the dragon stumbled to the side when the rock hit him. He turned and roared at her but she disappeared again, reappearing this time underneath him and slashing at his belly with her dagger.
Storm bellowed in pain as the blade cut gashes in his leathery hide, and he leapt away, scrabbling to the side and away from the razor sharp dagger. He landed heavily on his feet then swung a powerful arm at her, but Ariana moved again, dodging. She dashed toward the wide opening in the ridge of rock, but he swung his tail around and it caught her square in the midsection, throwing her backwards. Ariana landed on the stone, skidding across its surface, the gemstone scales on her elbows and running over her shoulders and down her back taking the brunt of the impact. She rolled and leapt to her feet, her bare back and legs raw and scratched from the stone, and choking to catch her breath after being hit by the dragon's thick, armored tail. She was surprised that it had not harmed her more, and realized that her skin had become stronger, somehow infused with the metal from the lava flows.
The dragon leapt toward her, gathering its breath and Ariana suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of danger. She focused her power and moved out of the way just as Storm unleashed a blast of acid fire. It burned bright orange and red, then turned white hot for a moment at the last of it. Ariana instinctively knew that the white fire was different, hotter than the lava and she remembered the warning from King Eric, that the gift he had given her would not protect her from truefire, and though she had never seen it, she worried that this dragon might have such a power.
Ariana also knew that if she did not prevail against the creature, she would never make it to Borrican, especially since she had heard the truth in Storm's words, that he would soon be dead. She reached for her power and then she noticed, underneath the raging fire that burned in her belly, she felt her other powers. Overwhelmed by the fire, and the strange sensations from the dragon's gift, she had not noticed the other energies flowing within her, calm and subtle beneath the surface, like the colors in the lava. She could tell that nothing grew in this place but she could feel the ground under her feet, not the earthy loam in which the roots of trees could grow, but hardened rock, heavy and dense. Ariana reached out with her power and felt the texture of the rock, the subtly porous surface, riddled with imperfections that were invisible to the naked eye. Beneath it, she felt the lava shifting and moving like an underground river, and she reached out to it with her magic, bidding it to move, to bend to her will as she had once asked the trees.
