The Faithful Traitor (Wizard & Dragon Book 2)

by Robert Don Hughes

  Sheth clapped his hands over his ears and shouted, “I’m not listening.” The others all recounted later feeling grieved by the futility of the gesture. There was no voice to silence. The meanings still came clearly to all. Whether heard or not, the truth remained true. The gateway was incomplete without faith. Moreover, it could not be opened without the sacrifice of a powershaper —

  “Wait!” Sheth bellowed, uncovering his useless ears and peering up into the sky-blue fog. “You mean one of us has to die in order to unleash the power in this thing?”

  A “yes” settled like dew upon each of them, as the mist melted away and the morning sky restored shape and dimension to the tree-castle that surrounded them. They gulped the air and stared at one another, like sleepers suddenly awakened, trying to distinguish between reality and a dream. But this had been a group dream — a shared vision. And while they later debated the exact identity of the messenger and the images used to express the ideas, the meaning of the message had been utterly clear to each of them. All of them looked at Sheth.

  He peered around the circle of faces, his own expression growing angrier and angrier with each new pair of expectant eyes. “Not me!” he exploded finally. “I’m not sacrificing anything.” He reached across the top of the gem and pounded his finger on Seagryn’s chest. “You’re the one who brought the Power into all this!” he raged. “You sacrifice yourself!” Then he was gone — vanished. The air rushed in to replace Sheth with a sharp snap, blowing Seagryn’s hair and chapping his cheeks.

  No one said anything for several minutes. Thaaliana finally broke the silence with a whine. “I can’t do it,” she told Seagryn. “I have children …”

  “And we may, yet!” Elaryl broke in, throwing herself into the center of the circle to block the squirrel-woman’s view of her husband. “Other people have lives, too!”

  “Elaryl …” Seagryn said quietly, and she whirled around to glare at him, her face contorted by torment.

  “I know what you’re doing! I know the way you think! You always think you’re the one who must make the sacrifice! You always assume there’s no one else as well qualified to do it! That’s not humble surrender, Seagryn! That’s nothing but your pride!”

  “Elaryl,” he said again — privately, intimately, a lover’s soft plea to a loved one to spare through silence later embarrassment. She wasn’t listening.

  “I’ll not have it!” Elaryl thundered, pounding a fist against a wooden column. “You never started any of this! You didn’t plan this crystal — whatever it is! If anyone is to make some sacrifice then Sheth should do it! He’s just too much of a coward to admit it!”

  Fylynn swung Elaryl around to face her, her own face now livid. “Sheth’s not doing anything he doesn’t want to do! Sheth didn’t free that dragon! Seagryn did!” Fylynn shot her onetime friend a killing stare, then stormed out of the great hall toward the rooms she’d been sharing with the now-departed power-shaper.

  “Fylynn’s right,” Seagryn murmured, and once more his wife spun to face him.

  “You see?” she pleaded, tears beginning to shimmer in her blue eyes. “You feel guilty. But you didn’t start the Conspiracy, did you? You didn’t make the dragon! You didn’t cause the world any of this grief! Why must you feel as guilty as if you had?” She grabbed him around the neck, trying to insinuate herself between the gem cluster and her husband. “Let’s go home, Seagryn! Let’s leave this place today and just go!”

  Seagryn’s eyes rose wearily above Elaryl’s head and settled on Dark’s. The boy wore the expression of an old man again. Seagryn expected nothing from him except that knowing, passive gaze. But Dark surprised him. For once, he acted.

  The boy reached out and took Elaryl by the shoulders, and with Seagryn’s help pried her arms away from her husband’s neck. “I’ll take care of this,” he murmured soothingly, and he managed to shift the woman’s face from Seagryn’s shoulder to his own and led her down the line of polished tables to the far end of the great hall. Thaaliana watched them go, then looked back at Seagryn.

  “Then you’ll go? You’ll do it?”

  Seagryn cleared a lump from his throat. “I’ve been prepared for this moment by my whole life — I’m the only shaper who also understands the nature of faith.” He shrugged at the squirrel-woman. “I’ve got to go.”

  Thaaliana looked at Paumer and Jocelath, the only remaining faces in the circle, and scowled. For her, the project had soured. Strangers had come to occupy her private space. Her mother-in-law was angry at her constant absence, and her husband suspected her of infidelity. She’d cooperated willingly in the making of an object that would rob her of the very powers that gave her identity. She uttered a brief, bitter, “Good.” Then she departed the tree-castle. For all she knew, it was the last time she would see it, but Thaaliana never looked back.

  Paumer and Jocelath both looked at Seagryn, but he had nothing left to say. His attention was elsewhere, on the quiet tête-à-tête between Dark and his wife. He was thinking about that evil thing that had opposed him at the meeting of the dragon cult. Would that being willingly return to the Power? Or would it be compelled to go, once the crystal gate was opened? One thing seemed certain — Seagryn would not be alive to know the outcome of his sacrifice. Or would he? He did have a new appreciation for miracles …

  Dark and Elaryl were returning, arm in arm. That, too, surprised Seagryn. But so many things had surprised him this morning that this one seemed modest by comparison. And given what he knew about Elaryl’s faith in the Power and realizing the persuasive force of Dark when he spoke prophetically, Seagryn was not surprised at all when Elaryl quietly announced, “I understand now. Spend the rest of today here with me. Tomorrow, you can go with my blessing.”

  Chapter Twenty: TUGOLITH’S BANE

  THE rest of the day disappeared in a moment, as do all last days before lovers must part. Seagryn struggled to cram forever into those few hours and failed miserably. He could not hold off the coming of night, nor the dawn of the next morning. He awoke long before daylight but only stirred from his place beside Elaryl when he heard Fylynn calling up to him from the main part of the tree-castle. He wrapped himself in a robe and went down to her.

  She was dressed and packed. “I couldn’t just leave without saying good-bye,” she murmured, half in apology and half in defiance. “We’ve shared too much.”

  “Yes.” Seagryn nodded. He didn’t know how to respond. He felt somehow as if he were officiating at his own funeral.

  “You’ll kill him, too, you know,” Fylynn murmured, her anger finally overwhelming her warmth. “He’ll die without his shaper power.”

  “Yes,” Seagryn said again. “Well, it’s not my choice, you know.”

  “You could choose not to go,” she argued. “Let the Power find another shaper, and just leave all of us out of it …” But Fylynn spoke with little passion. She knew it was hopeless. Seagryn’s mind was made up.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “Back to Haranamous. I’m a jester, remember?” She smiled bitterly. “I’m sure Chaom will need a laugh or two in the days to come. You look as if you could stand one yourself,” she added, slapping him on the shoulder. They gazed at one another then, and words failed. He hugged her, and she squeezed back — hard. Then she sighed deeply and climbed down out of the tree-castle.

  An hour later it was his own turn to go. Elaryl, Dark, and Jocelath all stood around him, and even Paumer had appeared to bid him adieu. He had words for each of them but couldn’t recall them later, so immersed was his mind in his plans for the journey.

  “You’re where Dark spends most of his time,” Elaryl murmured as he held her. “You’re off in the future, instead of here with me.”

  “I wish I could stay here with you,” he mumbled, and kissed her. Then he tore himself away and descended the rope ladder, the crystal object safely stored in a sack strapped to his back.

  As he climbed down, he realized she was right. Already his thought
s had turned away from Elaryl toward what was to come, and that somehow made him feel guilty. Then again — what didn’t make Seagryn feel guilty?

  That was the heart of the matter. Everything did. And this morning he was off to set everything right. By the time he reached the ground, Seagryn had decided he would never again shape the powers. The gem cluster contained enough magic — what it lacked now was faith. From this point forward, he would be simply a believer. If there were miracles the Power wished to work through him, fine, but Seagryn would no longer be a wizard. Since that meant no longer taking his tugolith form, Seagryn mounted one of the four remaining horses and rode north. Although he’d never been there, he knew exactly where to find the mountain of the Power. He knew it by faith.

  Seagryn felt no elation. How could a person celebrate self-sacrifice? And yet he did experience an overwhelming sense of peace and well-being. What he was doing was right — utterly right. In fact, for the first time in many months, he actually felt righteous. And by the time he reached the boundary of the giant woods, he was even beginning to feel justified as well.

  The trees of this forest had already lost their battle with the fast-approaching winter. He could see the sky through their skeletal branches, while their foliage drifted in piles at his horse’s feet. As he contemplated the depressing brevity of autumn, a mound of multicolored leaves loomed curiously before him. His horse stopped dead at no command of Seagryn’s — Seagryn was too shocked to speak. He stared into the face of an enormous bear.

  “Give me the crystal thorn,” Sheth growled.

  But Seagryn still could not respond. His horse stood frozen in terror.

  “It’s mine, Seagryn,” the bear growled again. “Return it to me now.”

  Too easy. This had all been too easy. He should have known Sheth would not yield his creation without a fight. “It isn’t yours,” he answered when he finally found his voice. “You know its purpose as well as I. Step aside, bear, and let me pass.”

  Sheth roared. But for Seagryn’s tight grip on its reins, the horse would have bolted. “Give it to me, Seagryn, or I’ll bite your head off!”

  “Sheth, be sensible!” Seagryn called in a commanding tone of voice. “You yourself have seen the One With Whom we Work! There’s no possibility of altering that One’s plan!”

  “Do you have that on Dark’s authority?” the bear sneered. “Or only on your own?”

  “Please, for your own good,” Seagryn implored, “move aside!” But his voice quavered slightly. There was something about the intelligence shining in those huge eyes that mocked the reason in his words. And when the bear uttered a series of grunting roars, and Seagryn suddenly recognized it was laughing, he trembled.

  “My own good?” The great bear chuckled. “Listen to me. I’m going to eat you, Seagryn. You’ve eaten humans before, you know how we taste! I’ve not experienced the pleasure in a long time — too long. Give me the crystal thorn, Seagryn, for your own good! Or I’ll take it from you and crunch your bones in the bargain.”

  Seagryn wrestled with the temptation to take his tugolith shape. How easy it would be to spear this bear on his tusk! Yet he’d promised himself … His momentary indecision robbed him of the chance to do or say anything; when he didn’t respond, the bear charged. His horse had had enough of this, and it burst out from under him, departing the area in a plume of leaves. Seagryn fell backward, and despite the thick cushion of fallen leaves, the object in his pack stabbed into his back. He scrambled immediately to his feet, but the bear already towered over him, reaching around him to seize the backpack in its forepaws.

  Power, this would be a wonderful time for a miracle, Seagryn thought. He waited as long as he could, but when none came, Seagryn surrendered to his rage and became a tugolith. The pack broke off his back, and the bear reeled away, dodging the first swipe of that wickedly tipped horn on Seagryn’s forehead. “Now!” Seagryn bellowed. “We’ll see who eats whom!”

  “Finally!” Sheth shouted, sounding relieved, and his bear shape — and Sheth — disappeared. Seagryn turned human and cloaked the bag so Sheth couldn’t see it. Again Sheth was a bear and right on top of Seagryn. With a smack of his paw, Sheth sent his rival whirling through the leaves like a tiny tornado. Seagryn banged off a tree and fell into a pile of leaves. When he realized the bear was once more pouncing upon him, Seagryn grew huge again. Instead of digging in and ripping his flesh, the bear’s claws glanced off his armor plating. But this, of course, left exposed once again the location of the crystal thorn. As the bear bounded after it, Seagryn struggled vainly to horn Sheth’s legs. Then he was up and chasing, for Sheth almost had his human hands upon the backpack, and Seagryn knew the wizard’s next move would be to disappear where he could not follow. The leaves at Sheth’s feet burst into flame, forcing him to dodge aside. Seagryn dived past him, burying the sack and its contents under his chest. If he could only disappear as Sheth and Talarath did! Perhaps he could! He tried …

  Darkness, total darkness, a void in which he hung voiceless and alone. And — nothing else. Nothing happened. He went nowhere. He felt nothing in his body. But what he felt emotionally made any physical pain he’d yet experienced seem a trivial inconvenience, for almost immediately he recognized what he’d put himself inside. The dark being that had engulfed him at the meeting of the dragon cult now embraced him again — or had Seagryn embraced it? One thing was certain — he’d not brought the gem cluster along with him. Wherever he was, wherever he was going, the Power’s gateway had been left behind.

  He was utterly lost. In that timeless emptiness Seagryn reflected upon the immensity of his own foolishness and his own failure. He’d known better! He’d trusted himself just this morning to the Power’s control alone, but his temper had stolen his peace, and with it had gone his wisdom. He had shaped — or tried to. Was he still trying?

  “How many times must I do this to myself before I learn to just let go?” He asked the question ruefully to the darkness, which made no response whatsoever. “Of course,” Seagryn mumbled. “Why should you give any hints?” Then he leaned backward into the void and let himself fall.

  “He’s back.”

  It was Dark’s voice. How ironic, Seagryn was thinking to himself, that one so full of light should have been given such a name. What had Amyryth been thinking? He opened his eyes.

  “You see?” Dark said again, and Elaryl pounced upon Seagryn as he’d jumped upon the gem cluster just a few moments — hours? days? — before. She smothered his face with kisses, and Seagryn remembered that other name Dark had used for his mother. Still, it was nice. He was comfortable. He was back.

  “From where?” he gasped, sitting upright and carrying Elaryl with him up onto her knees. “Where have I been?”

  Dark smiled enigmatically. “You don’t know?”

  “Have I — has my body been here?”

  “You might ask yourself,” Dark said sardonically, “where is here, exactly.”

  Seagryn looked around. He was back in the tree-castle! “How did I …” He stopped. Dark gave him an elaborate shrug. Elaryl still clung tightly to his neck. “And the Power’s gateway?”

  Now Dark frowned. “Sheth has it.”

  “But he still wants to use it as a weapon against the dragon!”

  “Yes …”

  “He’ll be killed!”

  Dark rolled his eyes. “You think I don’t know that?”

  “But — but —” Seagryn babbled to himself, unconsciously squeezing Elaryl back and crushing a satisfied grunt from her. “He’ll have taken it to the Central Gate already! We’re too late!”

  “Well, no …” Dark said thoughtfully. “He’s discovered by this time the same thing you did.”

  “And what’s that?” Seagryn asked.

  “That the crystal object can’t be carried through the void. Seeing that, he’s recovered your horse and is riding toward the dragon’s lair.”

  “Now?” Seagryn grunted, a mental map forming in his mind as he calculat
ed their comparative distances from the pass.

  “As we speak.” Dark nodded.

  “We’ve got to go!” Seagryn shouted. “Load the horses!”

  “They’re loaded already.” Dark grinned at Seagryn’s surprised expression. “Why so shocked? Remember — we’ve been expecting you!” Within moments Seagryn, Dark and Elaryl rode the last three horses at a breakneck pace toward the pass that much of the old One Land had already begun to refer to as Dragonsgate.

  They heard the battle before they saw it. They’d ridden all night, and all three took the light glowing in the east for dawn until it started flashing. It pulsed — a rhythmical beating as regular as that of a heart. Then it disappeared, and moments later they heard the terrible roar of a bear, answered by the double-throated scream of the dragon. Then the explosions began.

  Seagryn sorely missed Kerl. He urged this weary mount to run fester, but it couldn’t. Its energy was spent. The temptation to take his tugolith shape grew stronger with every distant war cry, but this time Seagryn resisted it — the cost was just too high. Instead, he silently begged the Power for some miracle — but none came. And somewhere in the eastern night the titanic battle continued.

  At last they were headed up the sharp incline into the pass. As dawn finally did shed its light upon the scene, they saw devastation everywhere — charred trees, ripped up by the roots, scorched cliffs, and boulders scattered in the roadway. Then they heard a scream high above them and looked up in time to see the dragon spread its wings and plummet from the sky like a falcon dropping onto its prey. Seagryn could bear this no longer. He jumped from his horse’s back and sprinted the last few yards into the Central Gate …

  Standing on his hind legs, the bear reared back to meet the dragon’s plunge, the crystal thorn clutched in his forepaws and raised above his head. Just when it seemed certain that each head would tear a gaping hole in the bear’s shaggy flanks, Sheth leaped nimbly forward and spun around, bringing himself right up under the beast’s heart as it swooped by. With perfect timing, the wizard slammed the point of the object upward and in … then bounced helplessly aside as the cluster of gems shattered into its six original pieces. Not a one of them pierced the dragon’s scales — not one. And in a maneuver Seagryn would not have believed physically possible, the two heads glided back beneath their shared body, causing it to flip over as gracefully as a fish. In a flash, before Seagryn could lift a hand to help, the two heads had each seized a part of Sheth. With a sickening rip, they sheared the wizard in half and bore the pieces aloft.