Quest Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 1)

by Cole Pain

  There had been times in his life Lazo desperately wished he had the twins’ closeness. This was not one of those times. The Mar was something he hoped to never feel.

  Jasta was able to remain on the other side longer than Justin; Justin had always been the weakest of the three, but both could remain in the other part of themselves for as long as it would take for Ista to touch them and test them for the power. They had to be prepared at all times. If they went into their other sides too soon or too late Ista would have them.

  A guard came forward and tethered Lazo’s arms and legs. The other moved to Jasta and Justin. Lazo almost cried out in alarm. Jasta and Justin had never been taken. Did Ista know of his betrayal?

  Lazo reached inside and found the light of the Quy. Although he was no fighter, he desperately wanted to try to break his chains and flee. His inner voice was never wrong, and it currently screamed for him to run. The same fear was mirrored in the twins’ eyes, but they would never escape the guards. They knew nothing of the Quy and they were far from soldiers.

  Lazo tried to recall if he had ever held a sword. He glanced at his hands. They were covered with grime. His fingernails were broken to the quick and there were a few bloody scabs where the rats had nipped him in sleep. He tried to recall the way his hands had looked before magic’s rebirth: smooth, without calluses, murky white and unblemished. A sword would be as foreign in his hands as it would in the hands of a newborn child. He knew strategy, maps and tactics but nothing about physical combat. Escape was as fleeting as water through his fingers.

  A guard jabbed Jasta in the back and shoved her forward. Jasta tripped over her chains and released a sharp cry of pain. Lazo watched as Jasta wavered precariously to regain her footing. He wanted to reach out to her but he knew the punishment for his aid would be worse than the punishment if she fell, so he remained where he was, whispering encouragement to her with his inner voice. When Jasta managed to stumble to an upright position, her hair was tousled, her cheeks were pallid and sunken, and her robe was torn from her falls. It was an image Lazo would have laughed at weeks ago. Jasta was steel: hard, unemotional and almost cold. Now she was a fine silk thread, needing him and Justin more than they needed her.

  And Justin: the twin whose eyes always shown with inner excitement now had eyes of granite; the twin whose incessant chatter almost drove Lazo mad was completely silent. Lazo found himself talking about anything he could bring to mind just to ensure Justin would hold on to sanity. Soon, Lazo knew, sanity would be the least of his worries. Disease would kill them. Rats were host to many illnesses. Jasta already had odd spots on her back, and Justin was losing his hair.

  Jasta and Justin walked in front of him with one guard to each side. Lazo followed, the other two guards at his heels. A sharp spear butted him in the back. He barely noticed. He was intent on trying to decipher why Ista had summoned the twins. Did she suspect they had the power, or did she want to question them?

  He settled on the latter. If he had judged Ista correctly she took little notice of those she deemed harmless. Just as a giant ignored a pebble, Ista ignored those who couldn’t match her skill. Her arrogance could very well be her downfall. Even a pebble could arm a sling to down a giant, even a pebble.

  But his observation did little to suppress his feeling of dread. Something terrible was about to happen, something treacherous. Sweat broke out on his brow, and despite his weak condition every fiber of his being tensed for battle.

  From what Lazo had overheard, Ista had begun to rebuild the Alcazar and she was training those with magic with rigorous intent. She promised all her subjects glory and power beyond reason and had proclaimed the age of the Collective.

  Lazo knew the real meaning behind those words. It would be an age of domination, an age that would defy all the Code of the Alcazar stood for, and an age that would herald wizards as rulers of the Lands. A silent rage ignited within him. He opened his mind to allow the others to feel it. He felt the twins grab on to his anger like a banner of hope. If they concentrated on rage, Jasta and Justin would have no time for fear.

  His siblings began to murmur frantically. When Lazo refocused, his step faltered. They had reached the great room. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight. In all of his days and nights in the dungeon he hadn’t imagined this.

  A cry came to his lips but no voice would follow. Hundreds upon hundreds of migrants filled the lower chambers of Stardom, valises tossed over their backs or dropped by their sides. Children shouted in excitement as they filtered through the adults to reach the forefront of the throng. Soldiers’ uniforms, not only from Crape, but also from Fyl and Byn, some even from Oldan, weaved in and out of the mob, trying to maintain order among the commoners.

  Although the people were grains of sand on the shore, that wasn’t what stunned Lazo to silence. It was the fact that every one of them, man, woman and child, had one thing in common – their heads were shaved. Although a few of the women wore snoods to keep their baldness hidden, most did not. Their baldness was a mark of their power. Lazo sent a silent prayer to the Maker, knowing the needles lay under the surface of their skulls. Ista already controlled them.

  He felt as if he looked in on a nightmare. People glanced in their direction but gave them little notice. The chamber was filled with a current of titillation. Fervent voices infiltrated the air like a drone of bees, and bursts of laughter sent the ado to even higher levels. Lazo’s stomach turned, sick with the reality before him.

  A sentry posted at the bottom of the stairs sounded a trumpet. All quieted, and everyone, children included, fell to their knees and touched their heads to the floor. Lazo’s eyes rose to the landing overhead where Ista stood in her glorious body. Her stoic green eyes looked straight through him.

  One of the guards cursed and forced Lazo to the ground. With sudden realization, Lazo saw he was the only one who had remained standing. Jasta and Justin were already down. He was unsure if they had been forced to bow or if they had done so out of fear. They were silent, even in their minds.

  His heart beat so frantically he was sure it could be heard in the hush that had settled over the crowd. He held his breath, wanting to look up but sensing Ista’s eyes had yet to stray from him.

  “Arise, my children.” Ista’s voice floated across the assembly. “As I have said, I’m your humble servant, you aren’t mine. I welcome you to the Collective.”

  A roar went up from the crowd. The marble hall seemed to magnify the shouts and carry them to the depths of the Abyss.

  Ista lifted her hands, stilling the throng to silence. The sunlight filtered in the windows and bathed her in sunlit glory. Her dark hair seemed to dance in its graces. A few men in the crowd spoke in admiration of her beauty. Ista smiled before she began.

  “In my day wizards were under the Code of the Alcazar. They were forbidden to rule, forbidden to fight, and forbidden to embrace the Quy for all its power. My children, the wizards of old failed for one reason and one reason alone: they gave magic boundaries.” Her face twisted in anguished disapproval. “I’ve had many years to think on magic’s history and what rules need to be changed. Now I have a chance to mend the old ways. I’m honored and humbled to teach and guide you in something as powerful as the Quy.”

  The crowd was silent. Lazo closed his eyes, feeling Jasta and Justin’s panic mingle with his own. The people were transfixed, hungering for every word and swallowing her ideology like life’s water.

  “Why did magic have to be destroyed, my children?”

  Murmurs sifted throughout the great hall, but no one raised their voices to speak. After a few heartbeats the murmurs stilled and all waited in expectation.

  “Because it was stifled,” Ista said as her eyes grazed the crowd. “The wizards of the Alcazar forbade learning the Quy utterly and without bounds. They set limits by adhering to a Code that didn’t allow wizards to use the Quy to kill, even for righteous reasons; that didn’t allow wizards to join together for war, even for justice; that did
n’t allow wizards to reach for the outer boundaries of magic for fear of harming themselves.”

  Ista paused to lock her penetrating gaze on certain individuals in the crowd. “I’ve spoken to each of you, taken your vow for the Collective and blessed you with the ancient blessing. Most of you have asked me what I’ve learned in my years of isolation. I’ll tell you what I’ve learned, my children. I’ve learned the Quy is a blessing that sets us above other people of the Lands. The wizards of old knew this but chose to humble themselves, yielding to the leadership of kings and administrators.

  “I challenge you now, as children of the Collective, to use the Quy without limits, to use it without restraint, to become soldiers of the Quy, defending magic and leading the Lands into a new era! The Collective will rule without acquisition but will guide the kingdoms into the future. Magic will be upheld as a power to command respect and reverence. You’re the elite, my children! Let us take this divination with open arms! Do you accept this challenge?”

  The crowd roared their acceptance. Lazo and the twins were the only ones who didn’t lift their voices to the sky. Ista’s eyes found Lazo before she soothed the crowd to silence.

  “The Collective force will be impenetrable. You’ll belong to no Land. You’ll belong to the Alcazar and to the Collective. You’ll become soldiers of magic, soldiers working together, soldiers of peace. Soon, my children, we will be teachers and mentors for all those without the Quy. We can protect those without the power with our gift. The Quy sets us apart. We will be the elite in the years to come, revered for our power. We must lead those less blessed for they are slightly blinded.

  “The word is being spread among other kingdoms. Magic’s time of rest has ended. We now begin the era of the Collective!”

  Cheers roared through the assembly. Lazo scanned the crowd. He didn’t recognize any faces. Only the people outside the walls were loyal to Ren, and they couldn’t fight an army of magic. What commoner would oppose a four hundred year old sorceress?

  “So, my children,” Ista said. “I’ll train you and together we’ll become the defenders of the Alcazar and soldiers of the Quy. We won’t belong to one Land but to all the Lands!”

  A chant formed and soon all the people were joining in. Lazo felt his insides quake as the multifarious voices rang out in one great thunderous blast.

  “The Quy sets us above! The Collective gives us strength! With both we are one! With both we rule! With both we make peace!”

  Valor stepped forward to stand beside Ista. “Friends, we have begun to rebuild the Alcazar. The new Calvet stands before you, a willing guide to the future of the Collective.”

  The crowd roared. Ista bowed her head in humility, a small smile touching her lips.

  “We’re living in perilous times,” Valor said. “Magic has brought greed and eradication in other kingdoms. The Collective may have to be called on sooner rather than later to annihilate these threats to the Lands. Bostic of Ketes has closed his borders. The messengers we have sent in peace haven’t returned. We assume them dead.”

  “They have violated the Collective’s call for peace, my lord,” someone yelled from the crowd. “Let us name a new king!”

  Impetuous shouts of agreement echoed one after the other. Foot stomping and angry exclamations escalated with the rising voices.

  Ista stilled the crowd with her look. “I fear we may have to do just that. The Collective will have to react to this outrage as soon as possible. We must make haste to learn the Quy.

  “If this was the only infringement of freedom, we could crush it swiftly, but Bostic isn’t the only threat. Ramie of Yor, the supreme ruler of Oldan, has closed Yor’s borders. He has also ordered Oldan citizens to cease their pilgrimage to Zier. Reports of people being killed at the Newlan border have come to my attention.”

  A multitude of angry shouts reverberated in the marble hall. A few of the men shouted that Ramie needed to be stripped of power.

  “My children, we will have to right these wrongs. New kings will need to be appointed.” Ista stopped, her vehement green eyes scanning the spell-struck crowd.

  “As I have said, the Collective will promote goodness to all the Lands. How better to do so than to appoint from within?”

  The crowd went mad. Ista bowed deeply. Her eyes found Lazo’s and her hand motioned to the guards before she turned and walked off the balcony to the study beyond.

  The chant rekindled. “The Quy sets us above! The Collective gives us strength! With both we are one! With both we rule! With both we make peace!”

  The guards led them through the mob as Valor began to speak of his plans, but Lazo didn’t hear him. The twins whispered frantically but he shoved them out as well. He didn’t see how Ren could win the battle before him. There were too many of the Collective.

  But Ren was the Chosen, Lazo reminded himself. There was a chance, no matter how slim it was.

  Ista would dominate the Lands as Barracus had tried to do. Although Barracus ruled by force, Ista ruled by subtleties. Lazo didn’t know whom to fear more. At least in conquest you had a clear definition of your enemy. With Ista’s cry for peace the enemy was vague and Ren would have a more difficult time proving his just intentions.

  Lazo knew the Zier people still believed in Ren. Ista indicated Bostic of Ketes did as well, and if Ramie was committed to counter Ista, they had a chance.

  When they stopped at the entrance to Ista’s study Lazo refocused on the twins, offered his encouragement and included a soft warning for them to be prepared. One of the guards rapped on the thick wooden door. A muffled voice came from within.

  One of the guards shoved Lazo inside. Ista’s glare met him, along with the savory scents of meats and sauces, fruits and breads, desserts and wine. Despite his effort to keep his eyes on Ista, Lazo’s gaze flickered to the multiple trays lining the far side of the room. Roasted chicken was piled high on a silver platter, along with large bowls of delectable sauces, medleys of fruits, a fresh loaf of bread, and rich pastries. His mouth watered as his stomach released a low rumble. Forcing his eyes from the food, he met Ista’s gaze.

  She stood before the Red Eye. He could see the desire in her eyes, and he knew her thoughts. If only they had the power she would have a weapon of force. Twins and triplets fed off one another and were stronger mentally because of it. The learning of the Quy would be no exception. Lazo already sensed the power doubling, even tripling inside him, and hoped for the thousandth time Ista wouldn’t discover their deception.

  Ista slowly drifted past the trays of food. She took a piece of chicken and dipped it in a bowl. Lazo stiffened as Ista walked closer. The fragrance of spices hung in the air as Ista took a slow, deliberate bite.

  “I would offer to have you sit with me and partake of the table before you but I fear I cannot tolerate those loyal to the enemy of the Lands.” Ista put her hand on Lazo’s arm. Lazo had already pulled into his other side where his power would be undetectable.

  Ista turned to Jasta. “I’m sure Lazo has conveyed my desire to awaken the Red Eye. Lazo has been, shall I say, helpful?” Ista paused and raised a sarcastic eyebrow. “The problem is,” Ista continued, walking past Jasta to look at Justin. “Lazo claims the Red Eye doesn’t speak in ways he understands. I don’t believe him.”

  Ista turned and caressed the Red Eye with seared fingers. Dipping her hand in a washbasin, she wiped her brow. Her eyes flickered back to them. “I’m sure he’s told you the Red Eye’s memories are alive. I’m sure he’s also told you he’s sent children to their deaths. I doubt he would be so rash if one of you attended the ritual.”

  Lazo’s mouth went dry. Beside him, Jasta and Justin stiffened.

  Ista chortled deep in her throat as she dipped her hand into the washbasin once more. After dousing her brow, she turned back to Lazo. “The Mar is the worst horror one of your kind could experience.”

  At the mention of the Mar, Jasta and Justin’s inner whispers started. Ista saw their fear and brushed Jasta’s cheek
with her palm. Lazo held his breath, praying to the Maker Jasta had reached her other side. When Ista’s hand dropped, Lazo exhaled.

  “Yes, the Mar.” Her eyes flickered between them as she stroked the Eye. “A triplet can leave the others in small doses but a twin can never be confined apart from his or her sibling without the Mar’s effects. Two of you will be in the ritual, the third will not. If the ritual isn’t over within heartbeats, the third will die of the Mar.”

  “Who remains behind?” Lazo whispered.

  “Not you, Lazo. That way you’ll make haste, no?”

  - - -

  Korin stood outside Davis’s door.

  The blow had come after his ride with Marianne. His deceit was known. He was out of time. Brice had ordered him to kill Davis. Ista knew of his deception, and if Davis wasn’t found dead in the morning Korin would die as well. Then he wouldn’t be able to help Mari.

  Davis’s deep laughter wafted to him. Korin turned and quickly walked down the hall.

  There was only one solution.

  He would tell Lorlier everything.

  Korin closed the door to his room and heaved a sigh. Books, notes, sketches, formulas and styluses were strewn over the floor. He had been poring over the books ever since he had returned from his ride with Mari, trying to find anything Ista could have done to her. Now his efforts were futile.

  As if on cue, a sharp, stabbing pain seared his mind. Ista was calling, her insistence evident from the fire she sent inside him.