by Lexy Wolfe
But the magnificence of the temple fell second to the sight of Tiwaz on her knees, hugging an extremely large black panther. The panther looked up at the four, put a protective paw around the woman, and bared very long, very white teeth as he growled warningly. She looked back and half turned. “No, no, it is okay. They are my friends.” She paused and nodded. “Yes, even the big, ugly one. He’s a good magic user. No, I didn’t think it was possible either.”
Simpkins blinked, looking at Doom incredulously. “Wait. I’m the ugly one?” Doom couldn’t help but grin at the ogre who made a rude gesture in return.
She extricated herself from the panther’s embrace, but kept her hand on his shoulder. Her posture reflected a newfound peace. “This is Ky-Lar. He was searching for me for five years. We both suffered because our bond could not be cemented due to distance. Veridian brought him from the Southern Wildlands after we purified the temple of the remaining demon that poisoned it.” She looked down at the massive creature. “My people and his form bonds to complete each other. That is why I can shape-shift in the day now. All shape-shifters share the form of their intended bondmates. I am whole now.”
The ogre blinked in surprise. “That explains everything!” All eyes turned to the giant. “The madness of lycanthropy. Lycanthropes do not have anything to balance the magic that allows the change.” He offered a deep bow to Tiwaz and Ky-Lar. “Though that is something that can wait to become known. Gods know what idiots would do armed with that sort of information.”
“Thank you.” The genuine gratitude and lack of suspicion startled the ogre a moment before he smiled and bowed again to her in mute response.
Doom’s smile appeared strained. “I am glad for you, Ti.” He tried to remain cheerful, but his tone fell flat. Ky-Lar padded over to Doom, then jumped up to put his paws on the gromek’s shoulders, looking him in the eyes. Then without warning, he licked the gromek’s face.
Tiwaz giggled, a sound as foreign as it was wonderful to their ears. “I told you he wasn’t a demon, Ky-Lar. Of course he won’t taste like one.” She approached as the panther dropped to all fours again. She put her hand over her friend’s heart. “I don’t need you any less, Doom. I am just not broken anymore.” He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly.
Ky-Lar walked up to Tracker, the two sniffing the air. “Cat-Sister has Cat-Brother. Good.” The panther rubbed his cheek against the wolflen’s hand.
Gareth approached the mirror, raising a hand as if to touch the glass, but not able to bring himself to mar the perfect surface. “Oh, if only Father Bura’an could see this place!” He jumped back when his reflection faded and he saw the Bralden temple from the point of view of its temple’s mirror. Bura’an, standing with his back to the mirror, turned when those parishioners facing the altars reacted to the change in the mirror. The man’s eyes went wide as he reached out as Gareth had moments earlier.
Except when he reached out, the mirror moved like living mercury, reaching out to encase his hand and sucked him through. He stumbled into the room the group was in, staggering off balance. He struggled to catch himself but fell down the steps between two of the skulls and tumbled into the pool, disappearing underwater.
“Bura’an!” Tiwaz ran to the edge of the pool, about to reach into the water. A hand the size of her head emerged and a young titan with Bura’an’s features surfaced. He climbed out of the pool, looking down at himself in bemusement. She squinted up at him. “Father Bura’an?”
He smiled down at her. “Yes, Daughter. It is me.”
She looked the nude giant up and down with a frown. “I am glad I did not touch the water if it makes you swell up like this.” The others stared at the woman for several heartbeats before they burst out laughing at the incongruous comment.
Bura’an chuckled as he straightened. “But you did something greater, and we thank you for it.”
Tiwaz’s eyes narrowed, glancing at Doom over her shoulder as he and the others joined her. The gromek put a calming hand on her back. “I do not understand, Father. Who is ‘we’ and what did we do?”
“'We’ are the gods of the Dragonway and I. You and your friends have healed the heart of our temples. The gods’ gratitude knows no bounds. It will take time for the ties to restore themselves, but soon, all of the temples will be returned to the glory they had known before the cataclysm that broke the land and us.” He looked at Tiwaz as Ky-Lar approached to sniff him suspiciously. “Have you discovered your name now, Daughter?”
She looked down, shoulders sagging. “No, Father. Not yet.” He put a finger under her chin, tilting her face up to meet her eyes with kindness.
“Have faith that you will. I do. And they do.” Everyone looked up at the sound of grinding and bells that vibrated through the rock. “Fear not, young ones. That is merely the doorbell at the training area.”
“Just the doorbell?” Simpkins asked incredulously, shaking his head as the others laughed. “Considering this place has been abandoned for gods only know how long,” he began, stopping briefly at Bura’an’s amused expression. “Yes, yes, I’m sure you can ask them how long it’s been. But don’t you think we should, I don’t know, see what is out there? We already had to deal with one demon.”
Bura’an considered, then glanced at his reflection in the mirror. “I should likely find something to cover myself with first. While Sulnar would likely adore the expressions on the faces of those I might greet nude, not everyone is so appreciative. Thankfully, she has been gracious enough to reassure the others through Aurora what has happened.”
“Father, I know where some clothes that would fit you are,” Tiwaz offered. “Ky-Lar and I can show you. They can go see who is here.” Doom and Tracker traded quizzical looks, surprised at the change in the woman’s temperament, but not wanting to push her. They turned to follow Simpkins and Gareth without a word.
"WHAT DID YOU wish to talk about, Daughter?” Bura’an asked as he took garments out of the wardrobe in the apartment the group had spent the night in. He smiled, feeling her narrow-eyed stare on his back. “Child, you are not the first warrior I have ever known, and you will not be the last. Veridian has his followers, too.”
“What does it matter that I am a warrior?” she demanded, then sighed heavily. “Am I so predictable?”
“Predictable? No, child. But there are traits shared across all those who depend on projecting an image of strength.” Taking down a very long sash, he began wrapping it around his waist, turning to face her. “Even the most private person sometimes has need to speak to another. Rarely are they willing to bare their soul even in front of those they trust the most.” He pulled over a giant chair and settled in it. “I am honored you trust me enough to confide your heart to me.”
She sighed, her gaze dropping. A wan smile touched her lips as Ky-Lar bumped his head against her hip. “Sorry, Ky-Lar. I have no words for how happy I am that we are together now, but I am…confused.” The woman’s expression reflected the inadequacy of the last word to describe the turmoil in her heart and mind. “I am happy Doom is regaining what he had lost, Father. I am happy that Ky-Lar is here.”
She raised her hands, looking at the bracers. “I owe Sulnar a debt for removing the glyphs I had borne. I had not agreed to it before she did it, but it does not matter. I would have asked if I had been able because being free of Alimar’s magic shackles is the only thing I wanted as much as Doom’s freedom.” Golden eyes met blue. “But I did not agree to be altered.”
“You fear that demands will be made on you?” Bura’an asked in a gentle voice. “Ones you did not agree to and threaten your freedom by taking your choices away.” He laughed quietly at her perplexed expression. “Look at me. Not more than an hour ago, I was an old drunkard in a broken temple. Now I am…” He shook his head, looking down at himself. “I am more than I ever allowed myself to dream of being. I am overwhelmed by it all. Not simply because it was unexpected.”
“Because…you were not asked if you wanted it
first?”
He nodded. “That is part of it. I am also not what I was all my life. I am now twice the height I had been. A needed change, because all the high priests of the central temple must be large enough to be accepted by the larger followers, but small enough for those not so large. Most dragons have the ability to take a human form. But the more human-like races are usually not so gifted. So, I am now what Keth calls a titan.”
“It is rather nice to see Simpkins feeling small,” she admitted. “I could tell you surprised him when you came out of the water.” She glanced at Ky-Lar as the giant cat yawned hugely. “But what about me? I did not ask for this. Ky-Lar said the bond doesn’t physically change either Ky or human normally, but I know I am not now what I was. The change in my eyes and hair are not the only things that have altered, but they are the only ones others can see. I was just starting to figure out what I once was to begin with!”
Bura’an did not answer immediately, clasping the diamond-eyed medallion around his neck that had enlarged with him. “Ah, I understand now.” He opened his eyes, smiling in reassurance. “Keth did nothing but nudge time around in thanks for helping them. Even if you did not realize your quest was to come here.”
Tiwaz frowned, crossing her arms. “You mean Simpkins played us for fools? He knew about this place all along?”
“Actually, Simpkins has no clue about his part in the restoration of the Dragonway,” Gareth stated as he entered, letting the heavy tapestry fall back in place behind him. He offered a respectful bow to Bura’an. “Father, there is a rather large dragon by the name of Drathmor who insists on speaking with you. He is not harming anyone, but he is being quite obnoxious.”
“Ah, yes.” Bura’an stood, smoothing out his new robes. “Wonderful this temple’s caretaker still lives. My predecessor’s memories of him tell me he is not the most patient sort given his age. I should go before he becomes cranky.” He paused to look back. “Do join us when you are ready, Daughter. I think Drathmor would be amused to meet you.”
Gareth watched the titan leave, then looked at Tiwaz with a lopsided smile at her glare. “And no, I did not know, either. Not specifics, anyway. They used me to nudge you and Doom now and then. But mostly, Aunt Sulnar wanted me to watch over you.”
Tiwaz blinked, then frowned. “…’Aunt’ Sulnar? You do not speak the word like a nickname.”
The bard’s smile faded to a more serious expression. “No, I do not, because it is not a nickname. She is my aunt by blood. My father is, ah, Keth.” He held still as the woman stalked closer to him, circling him as she studied him. “I look human because my mother was human and he was—”
“You are the child of a god?” she demanded, her words slow as she chose her words. “You are half dragon?”
“I am. But the most it has done for me is made me a lightning rod for their attention.” He held up his hands helplessly. “I’m only a hundred years old. Dragons age much more slowly than humans.”
“You are mageborn?”
“What? Oh, no. Dragonborn. It is…similar to mageborn, but…” He sighed gustily. “It’s complicated to explain.”
“Did she know?” Tiwaz asked, her temper slowly cooling. “Your mother? Did she know who sired you when—?”
“I really don’t know. She had always been a private person. Never really talked much about herself. She was a priestess devoted to Keth.”
“So a dragon god decided to sire a child with one of his priestesses.” She crossed her arms. “Is this normal?”
Gareth chuckled. “Gods rarely say why they choose to do or not do anything. So, why Keth saw fit to answer her prayer for a child by siring it himself, neither has ever told me.” He wrinkled his nose. “In fact, I did not know who my sire was until I was fifty years old but still looked like this.” He waved a hand at himself.
“She finally told me who my father was before she passed on. Then Aunt Sulnar claimed me as ‘hers’ despite my having chosen Keth when I pledge my faith to the Dragonway.” He touched his blue diamond-eyed medallion. “She’s been tormenting me ever since.” He smiled faintly. “Though I am grateful for her bringing me to you and Doom.”
“So you are immortal?” she asked, glancing down at Ky-Lar as the giant panther bumped her hand, sliding underneath it so it rested atop his head. She relaxed fractionally at his thrumming purrs. “Alimar told me dragons are one of the immortal races.”
“Gods, I hope not,” he said with such heartfelt emotion, she blinked at him. “I’ve watched so many people I’ve loved come and go while I live on. Do you have any idea what that is like?”
Tiwaz clenched her fists, squeezing her eyes shut. “At least they did not die by your hand.”
Gareth’s expression fell, his mouth opening then shutting again, at a loss for words. He held his hand out to her in supplication for forgiveness. “Tiwaz, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
She accepted his hand, though she did not look up at him, eyes remaining shut. “Do not be. The fault is not yours.”
Nor is it yours, Ky-Lar stated, growling deep in his chest with ears twitched back as he stared hard at her.
Gareth squeezed her hand. “Come on. Let’s go before Drathmor scandalizes the temple,” he encouraged. She nodded, letting him keep her hand in his and followed him out.
THE FOUR TRAVEL companions stopped short when they entered the giant chamber where the demon had met its end, staring at the dragon seated primly like a housecat. Head nearly brushing the ceiling, he turned to regard the four small bipeds. “I am Drathmor,” the creature stated in haughty tones. “Where is the high priest?”
“How do you know there is a high priest? This place has been abandoned for,” Simpkins began to say when the dragon lashed his tail against the floor with a jarring thump.
“I am awake, am I not?” The giant head lowered to fix a hard look on the ogre mage. Lips curled back to bare teeth as long as Gareth’s forearm. “Why are you here? You are not even a follower.” As the ogre stammered to find a response that would not get him eaten or stepped on, the dragon turned his attention onto Doom and Gareth, sniffing the air. With a derisive snort, he pulled his head back. “Even after all this time, Keth is still not terribly selective, is he?”
Gareth blinked, eyes going wide as he looked at Doom. A little flustered, he cleared his throat. “Ah, yes, well. Let me go get Father Bura’an. Don’t eat anyone until I return!” he called over his shoulder.
“Bah. Everyone knows pink skins cause indigestion.” He regarded the three remaining males, tilting his head as he studied Doom more closely. “You have an odd aura about you. It is like watching something struggling to keep itself tangled instead of trying to get free. What is your name, youth?”
“Thrahx Vaug, though I prefer to be called Doom.” Despite only standing as tall as the dragon’s forearm, he was undaunted by the ancient, massive creature. “I am a gromek.”
“Are the wings of all gromeks so small, Thrahx Vaug, who likes to be called Doom?” Doom’s face and upper torso flushed deep green at the question, his fists clenched and teeth bared.
Tracker put his hand on the gromek’s arm and looked up at the colossal creature before them. “Pack-brother lost horns and wings.” The dragon’s brow lowered into a scowl, the spines along his backbone hissing as they slid along one another when they rose. “Dark magic user stole. Now growing back.”
Tilting his head as the simmering anger quieted, the dragon stared hard at Doom. “You will require someone to instruct you, youngster. Fledglings must grow in strength, endurance and skill before they are permitted to leave the nest.” He unfolded his wings partly, then back tight against his body. “I would offer, but I am old. Old enough for these mountains to have grown around me while I slept.”
“Drathmor, old friend, it is good to see you are alive and well,” Bura’an stated as he walked into the chamber. Despite standing at twelve feet, the ancient dragon dwarfed the titan. “Forgive me for my delay. I was speaking with the young woman w
ho was part of this group key to restoring the heart of this temple.”
The old dragon dipped his head in respect. Bura’an rested his hand on the ridge that ran from nose to crest lightly, murmuring a blessing. “It has been far too long since the temple was last awake. I am glad to be alive to see my last act sealing it was not wasted.”
“No, no, hardly wasted, Drathmor.” The titan looked back as Gareth, Tiwaz, and Ky-Lar joined the group. “Temple Guardian, I would like you to meet the temple daughter and bearer of Ghalnecha. Daughter, this is Drathmor.”
With a speed belying his sheer size, the dragon dropped to his belly, his nose inches away from the young woman. He flinched back when, out of pure reflex, she drew the two-handed sword from her back sheath and smacked his nose with the flat of the blade. “Too close, Dragon!”
Rubbing the tip of his nose with a forefoot, the dragon narrowed his eyes, but his voice held a note of chagrined. “Was that you or Ghalnecha?”
“Me,” Tiwaz stated in edged tones. Oblivious to the stares of her companions for her audacity, or the amusement in Ky-Lar and Bura’an’s postures, she uncoiled and resheathed the weapon. “She is laughing too hard to say more than ‘Hello, Father.’” She looked plaintively at Doom. “Can we go home now?”
“Child, you are home,” Bura’an stated gently. “The gods wish you to remain now that you have completed restoring this temple. It is why the they guided you here.”
Gold eyes flashed, the woman’s anger all but palpable in the air. “No! This is not my home and I am not their pet! I don’t belong to anyone and I don’t belong to you!” She shape-shifted into a panther and bolted for the outside, Ky-Lar close behind her. Doom and Tracker ran after her.
“She reminds me of my daughter,” Drathmor stated in wistful tones. “You will have your hands full with her, High Priest.” Shifting to stretch some, the dragon looked down at Simpkins. “Do you play chess?”
