Down below, islands had become hills. Ships in the harbor were stranded on dry ground, miles from any shore. Rhianna peered to the east, seeking for a glimpse of the ocean. She could not be certain, but she thought that she saw water far in the distance, twenty or more miles out. But it could have just been vapors rising from what was once the ocean floor.
Swooping into a dive, Rhianna headed for the old palace at the Courts of Tide. It still stood, tall and pristine. Its white towers gleamed in the morning sun. Atop its pinnacles, standards snapped in a sharp breeze-white flags with the red Orb of Internook at their center. Where once there had been alcoves open to the sea, where undines had risen on the waves to take council with ancient kings, Rhianna saw only rocks and ruin. All along the island s old shore, shanties and fishermen s huts and old inns leaned precariously, like so much driftwood washed up on the beach.
Children could be seen down below, where once there had been forty feet of water, searching through the remains of tide pools for crabs and urchins, while adults prowled about old shipwrecks, perhaps seeking for lost treasure.
Rhianna banked to her left and folded her wings, dropping toward the main road to the palace.
She was two hundred yards out when someone let a ballista bolt fly from the castle wall. She folded her wings, creating a smaller target, and hit the ground hard.
It was a terrible landing. She lost her footing and went tumbling, head over heels.
It might have been all that saved her. The marksmen upon the castle wall stopped firing, as one of the men shouted, "I got it! I shot it clean through."
Others cheered and celebrated.
Rhianna climbed to her knees and cried out, "Parley. I come in peace. I come to speak with Warlord Bairn on an urgent matter, concerning the safety of his borders."
Bairn was the current usurper squatting at the Courts of Tide. He didn t really rule the place. The city was becoming a barren ghetto, where gangs fought for food and shelter. He was a mere vulture, picking at the remains of Mystarria.
Only when Rhianna looked up to the castle wall did she notice the bodies. There were three of them, hanging by their wrists in the shadows just below the battlements and just above the drawbridge. Human they were, but not like the small folk. They were the corpses of humans from the warrior clans at Caer Luciare. They had the bony head plates and the nubs of horns at their temples.
Two men and a woman hung dead on the castle wall.
Immediately Rhianna knew what had happened. When the worlds were bound, there were some people who lived on two worlds at once, people who had shadow selves. And when the worlds became one, those who lived on both worlds were bound into one person, retaining the memories and skills and abilities of both.
It had happened to her foster sister Talon, and to the Wizard Sisel.
But for reasons that Rhianna could not understand, when the two were bound into one, there seemed to be no pattern as to where they ended up. Talon s two "selves" had merged at Castle Coorm, though one of her shadow selves had been hundreds of miles away, in Caer Luciare. And Rhianna knew from news at Caer Luciare that Sir Borenson s two halves must have merged on the far side of the world, for Talon s shadow father had gone missing from the fortress.
Perhaps one personality dominated the other, and the two halves merged with the dominant personality, Rhianna mused. Or maybe some other factor came into play. Perhaps it was all just dumb luck, random chance.
But these three unfortunate souls had merged here at the Courts of Tide. And because of their strange appearance, they had been killed.
The captain of the guard shouted, "Hold! Don t move!"
He was a big man, with golden-red hair and leather armor made of sealskin. He didn t bother wearing a helm.
He eyed Rhianna, curious. He demanded, "What are you?"
"A woman," Rhianna said. "I come as a friend, bearing a message."
The captain studied her suspiciously. By some instinct, Rhianna flapped her wings slowly, trying to cool herself. This amused the captain, and he leaned over the castle wall, peering down at her, as if to peek down Rhianna s blouse.
"Never have I seen a dove with bigger wings or finer breasts," the captain said. Behind him the pikemen and marksmen upon the wall chortled at the jest. "If you are really a woman, prove it."
Anything I say will just be a joke to him, Rhianna realized. She refused to rise to the bait, and just stood glaring at him.
He was dying to find out how she had gotten her wings, and Rhianna was just as determined never to tell him.
"So," the captain of the guard said at last, "you hope to speak to Warlord Bairn. On what business?"
She decided to command his interest.
"A mountain of blood metal has risen within the borders of Mystarria," Rhianna told him. "I thought that I should warn Bairn to get it, before his enemies do."
The captain of the guard suddenly straightened and took interest. "Where is this mountain?"
"That is information I will sell-to Warlord Bairn alone."
The captain s brown eyes glittered with malice. He raised his hand. "Archers!" he commanded, and suddenly dozens of bowmen rose up from behind the merlons of the castle wall. "Ready arrows."
The archers bent their bows to the full.
The captain studied Rhianna, to see if she d squirm.
"Kill me," Rhianna promised, "and Bairn will have you hanging from the city gates before sundown."
The captain considered her threat. He warned the archers, "Don t let her leave," then turned and raced from the castle gate.
Rhianna sat down and waited, folding her wings about her. The artificial wings draped over her shoulder suddenly, so that the folds of skin looked like a crimson dress.
The archers held their bows at the ready for long minutes, until their arms grew tired and they went to rest.
Bairn did not summon her to his great hall. Perhaps he feared this woman with wings. So he came to the top of the gate himself, like a king negotiating a siege.
He was a tough-looking man, with dark hair and sharp widow s peak. He had a broad, cruel face and thin lips. His eyes seemed colorless and looked glazed, as if he had been drinking.
"Name yourself," he demanded. He was wearing a cloak of black, and as he casually leapt up and sat upon a merlon, he suddenly reminded Rhianna of a huge black vulture worrying over a corpse.
"Rhianna," she said, "Rhianna Borenson." She did not want to use her real name, and so she used the name of her foster father.
"Borenson…" he said. "That name is known to me."
"My father was once guardsman to the Earth King," she said. "He held forth at this very castle."
"You have his red hair," Bairn mused. That was true enough, though she was not blood kin to Borenson. Still, it was a name that commanded respect.
"I ve come to give you warning," Rhianna said. "There is a new danger in the land-a type of giant, called wyrmlings."
"We have found some," Bairn said, nodding toward the dead folk on his walls. "They are responsible for this… mess." His eyes roved across the armor, taking in the fields of rotting kelp below them.
Rhianna didn t know if she should argue. Warlord Bairn was known to be a brawler, and took offense when none was intended.
More important, she needed Bairn to help save Fallion-the man who was truly responsible for the mess.
"The wyrmlings are larger than these," she said, jutting her chin toward the dead. "These poor folks are humans, or what passed for human upon the shadow world.
"But wyrmlings stand a head taller, and are broader at the shoulders. Their skin is whiter than bone, and their eyes are like pits of ice. They cannot abide the daylight. They eat only flesh. They think that human flesh is as good as any other."
"So," Bairn said, "these humans were their enemies? Or were they seen merely as food?"
"Sworn enemies," Rhianna said.
"What are the wyrmlings numbers?" Bairn asked, like any good commander.
"Millions," Rhianna said. "They command strange magics. Their lords and emperors are wights, and no common weapon can kill one. My mother, the Lady Myrrima, is a water wizard, and had blessed my own weapons, and so by luck I slew one of their Knights Eternal, a creature more dead than alive. I took my wings from it."
With that, she unfolded her wings, and raised them in the morning light. Until that instant, she suspected that Bairn had not been willing to believe her. But he could not deny the evidence of his own eyes.
"You say that they have blood metal?" he asked.
"A mountain of it," she affirmed. "When the two worlds were bound, the mountain rose from the plains. Upon that other world, the folk had little use for it. Now it is a treasure untold."
Warlord Bairn got a cunning look. "Why would you tell me all this-you the daughter of the vaunted Sir Borenson?"
Rhianna considered a lie, but settled on a half-truth. Somehow, she could tell that this was not going well. "He loved this land, these people. He would not want to see them harmed. You could be a powerful ally in the coming wars."
Bairn seemed to think a moment. "You would have us go to war against giants-giants at war with the men of their own world? Why should we unite with the smaller humans? Perhaps there is some way that we could make the wyrmlings our allies?"
"Haven t you heard me? They eat human flesh. They have a mountain of blood metal. They… at best they would make you their slaves, though I think they d prefer to make you a meal."
That seemed to satisfy Bairn. He stood straighter, looking less like a vulture.
"And where is this mountain? My captain said that you planned to name your own price for it."
"First, we must see if you will meet my price," she said.
Bairn snorted, as if this was but a formality. He would give anything for a mountain of blood metal. "What is it that you want?"
Rhianna did not like the look of him. He glanced away to the north and south. He acted as if he were too busy to waste his time with her, but she suspected that he feared to look her in the eye.
"There are two men held captive in the wyrmling stronghold. When you get the blood metal, I want you to take endowments, break into the wyrmling stronghold, and set my friends free."
"Let me get enough endowments," Bairn said, "and I ll slaughter the lot of these giants for you. Then you can walk into the wyrmling dungeons and set your friends free yourself."
"Agreed," Rhianna said, but she still felt uneasy.
"Now," Bairn asked, "where is this mountain of blood metal?"
Rhianna feared to tell him the truth. She wanted to see what he would do once he got the information. So she devised a ruse.
If he is an honorable man, she decided, I can tell him the truth later.
"It is hidden beneath a wyrmling stronghold, on the slopes of a volcano, eighty miles northwest of the city of Ravenspell." She had just given him directions to Rugassa. If he followed them, he d lead his men to battle against the entire wyrmling horde.
He smiled warmly, and then glanced to the captain of his guard. "Kill her," he said dismissively.
Bairn turned to leave just as the captain of the guard raised and dropped his hand, signaling the archers to fire.
Rhianna was ready for them. She whirled to the right and leapt over the bridge as arrows and ballista bolts plinked onto the paving stones beside her.
She plummeted fifty feet before she opened her wings, catching the wind. She veered beneath the bridge and skimmed above rocks that had been submerged just three days ago, and now were covered with white barnacles and colorful starfish.
She flapped her wings and went soaring away, using the bridge above her as a shield. Arrows plunked above her, raining down on the stone bridge, snapping on impact. The archers had done their best, but had not been able to get a clean shot.
Now their chance was gone, and Rhianna flew beyond their range.
She felt saddened by the warlord s betrayal. She had hoped to make an ally, and instead had found only an enemy. He would take his men to war against the wyrmlings, of that she felt sure. He couldn t afford to ignore the risk.
But who will help me now? she wondered.
Rhianna consulted a mental map. There was nothing left of Mystarria to save. The warlords of Internook had taken the coast. Beldinook had taken the west, while South Crowthen claimed the middle of the country. Gaborn s realm was no more. There was little to save, little worth fighting for.
So where else should I go? Rhianna wondered. Beldinook was now the most powerful nation in all of Rofehavan, with its fine armor, strong lancers, and heavy warhorses. The castles and fortresses of Beldinook had been spared in the past war. But Beldinook was a sworn enemy of Mystarria and its ruler, Allonia Lowicker, would not be willing to help rescue Fallion Sylvarresta Orden, a scion of Mystarria.
Rhianna considered flying to Heredon.
It had once been the queen s home, and it too was rich with steel and people, but it had fallen under the shadow of South Crowthen.
Where else can I look for help? she wondered.
Fleeds, the land of the horse clans.
The land of my youth, she thought. Her mother had been born in Fleeds. Rhianna s grandmother had been queen. For a short time, Rhianna had been raised there. Her time in Fleeds had been the happiest time of her life.
Fleeds was not rich in steel, but a powerful Runelord had little need for such defenses. Fleeds did not have great fortifications, but the women of Fleeds had great hearts. And they had loved and honored the Earth King. They would respect his son.
Home, she told herself. I m going home.
With that, she flapped her wings, banked to her left, and soared up from under the bridge, into the open sky. Eagerly she flew to the west, into a setting sun that gleamed like a white pearl as it settled into an opalescent haze.
4
THE STRANGER WITHIN
When lions feast, the timid get what they deserve-nothing.
— From the Wyrmling Catechism
In the wyrmling keep at Rugassa, Areth Sul Urstone was a stranger in his own body. He walked and talked, but it was another s will that moved him, and it was another person s words that were spoken, another s emotions that he felt. The Great Wyrm, Lord Despair, had taken control. Areth Sul Urstone felt like a mouse, trapped and cornered in some king s great hall, watching as the ponderous affairs of state rolled by.
Lord Despair stood in the uppermost bell tower while the stars drifted on a warm wind above. The day had passed, and it was nearly midnight.
Gazing up at the stars, Despair saw not piercing lights that smote his heart with their beauty-but only the scattered bits of his longed-for empire.
Despair reached up as if to gather the stars in his hand. For so long they had remained outside his grasp. But now, now he could almost touch them.
Areth watched the gesture, felt Despair s longing, but Areth could not quite comprehend Despair s turbulent thoughts, his undying hatred, his far-flung plans.
Now Despair peered down at his minions toiling in his fortress, hundreds of yards below, admiring their greatness.
Enormous rookeries had been built high upon the sides of the volcano to house his otherworldly graaks. Wranglers were trying to get one of the enormous creatures into its new home, but it spread its massive black wings and reared back, pulling one of its handlers to its death.
Already doors to half a dozen shadow worlds had been opened, and soon reinforcements would arrive from all over, creatures that the wyrmlings had never dreamed of.
First I must consolidate my hold upon this world, Despair knew, and then I can take the others.
Yet he did not exult in his power.
All day Despair had felt uneasy, experiencing a strange and growing sense of alarm.
Danger is coming to the fortress, the Earth warned. Yet the warning did not come in coherent words. Rather it was an emotion, an instinct that nudged him to action and niggled his mind. Danger is coming. Send your people to sa
fety.
Lord Despair had used Areth s awakening Earth Powers to "choose" certain wyrmling lords, creating a bond with them, allowing him to sense when they were in danger and warn them. Not only did Despair sense danger to some of his lords now, he knew what they had to do.
"Flee," the Earth whispered. "Tell them to flee."
But Areth Sul Urstone, overwhelmed by another s will, could do nothing. He could not warn the doomed lords, for Despair now dominated him completely, and Despair refused to send the lords to safety.
I will act when the time is ripe, Despair whispered his own reassurance to the Earth. None that I have chosen shall be lost.
Lord Despair had devised a different way to save his people. He had won the battle for Caer Luciare. Already, Despair s servants were digging blood metal from a hill near the fortress, and by dawn the first shipment would be rushing to Rugassa. Once it arrived, he would grant massive endowments to his men, and prepare a trap for those who attacked.
I will so arm my people that they will be undefeatable, Despair told himself.
But he could not be certain of that. Despair could not sense the source of the danger. He imagined that Runelords were coming, most likely some powerful lords that had been routed from Caer Luciare. Such men would pose a great danger. They would come in a few hours perhaps, or a day. He could not be sure when they would arrive. He only sensed the danger the way that one can feel the coming of a storm even when no clouds darken the horizon.
Lord Despair spun, and orders leapt from his mouth: "Send word to the emperor," he told the captain of the guard. "I want a giant graak dispatched to Caer Luciare to retrieve our first shipment of blood metal ore. I want that ore at first dusk tomorrow."
"Yes, O Great Wyrm," the guard said.
Despair considered next how he would get his Dedicates. It did not make sense to take endowments from wyrmlings. He would need them to fight his war.
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