‘Morhork,’ said Asaph softly.
‘Yes, Morhork…’ Freydel shook his head and raised his eyebrows. ‘He was lucky to survive the orb’s power—only a dragon could! A true testament to his own magical ability.
‘Anyway, unable to meld with its deceitful Keeper and sensing peril, it sought out the nearest orb holder—something I didn’t know was possible. Yet, we have never been in this position to experience such a thing. So the orb went to Issa. To hold two orbs at once as their primary Keepers…Well, you’re lucky to survive it too.’ The man’s hazel eyes beheld hers.
Issa dropped her gaze. She didn’t want the power and responsibility of one orb, let alone two. ‘I nearly didn’t! Luckily I had help. The Wykiry were in the bay, and Naksu was by my side, and Haelgon and Drumblodd in the Flow—wait. You said three orb holders down?’
Freydel paled and Asaph turned away. Naksu entered the tent and paused. The White One smiled at Issa, then her brow knitted together in a worried frown.
‘Yes, Drumblodd,’ said the seer. ‘He’s stable but his breathing is shallow. I cannot reach him with such an…infection.’
‘What’s happened?’ asked Issa, suddenly feeling faint. ‘How long have I been asleep?’
‘Less than a day, but things happened so fast,’ Asaph shook his head. ‘I didn’t see it, but Drumblodd was injured by a Maphraxie arrow soon after Domenon caught the orb. It penetrated his shoulder, a fiendishly lucky shot to miss both armour plates. Well, it was poisoned, we’re not sure what with, but we fear it’s Sirin Derenax.’
‘It is the Black Drink,’ Naksu confirmed.
When Asaph struggled to speak, Freydel, his face turning paler, continued explaining. ‘When the magic of the orbs combined, it stopped him being consumed by the Under Flow. He’s become part-trapped in the Flow and part-trapped in the Under Flow.’
Issa looked at the ashen face of the prone dwarf. Even in the orange glow of the lantern, Drumblodd already looked dead, with his blue lips and a chest that barely rose or fell. One shoulder was wrapped in bandages where the arrow had entered. Poisoned with Sirin Derenax for which there was no cure. He gripped the Orb of Fire between two hands, holding it over his chest.
‘We cannot get him to release it,’ said Naksu softly. ‘Perhaps it is the only thing keeping him alive.’
The orb’s orange and red surface was flecked through with streaks of black, the colours weaving through and turning over each other, as if locked in some internal battle.
Issa touched his hand and found it cold. She closed her eyes and felt for him in the Flow. He was there but he seemed frozen, untouchable.
‘I can’t reach his mind. Maybe with more rest…but even then, I can’t reach anything in the Under Flow.’ Issa shook her head.
Asaph slipped an arm around her shoulders. ‘Let him rest, maybe that’s all he needs. We all need rest. Just thank the goddess we have not lost any orbs. Come, it’s late.’
She let him lead her outside under the red skies that never fully darkened with night nor lightened with day. Their own abode was a temporary tent within which was a pile of hay with blankets over the top. She sorely missed their soft bed and little white house on Myrn. It was a nice home.
Asaph unbuckled his sword and set it down. The candlelight flashed off the red pommel and gleaming crossguard. She remembered when the Guardians of the Portals had given it to her in a vision, a temporary gift to help free Asaph from Keteth’s prison. Now it was here physically, with its rightful owner.
‘Let me touch it,’ she said.
Asaph hesitated. ‘It harms those to whom it does not belong.’
Issa nodded. ‘I know. I want to see if it remembers me.’
Slowly Asaph held the hilt towards her. She reached, paused, then gripped the hilt. At first it was cold—and then it began to burn. The heat flared up her arm as if setting her on fire. She gasped and gripped harder. Her whole body felt on fire.
And then something changed—it was as if the blade was thinking, remembering; she had saved its master, she had held it before. The burning pain receded to a low ache, reluctantly accepting her.
She let go of the hilt with a smile and looked at Asaph’s surprised face. ‘It remembered me. But I doubt it would suffer my hand long.’
Asaph set the sword aside and sat down. He yawned, making her yawn too. ‘What next, Raven Queen?’ He took her hand and kissed it.
‘I don’t know, King Asaph,’ she said, grinning ‘A good long sleep and pray they don’t attack in the night.’
He pulled her down beside him and they curled up together. Issa sunk fast into an exhausted sleep.
‘All that remains of Karalanthia.’
Cusap’anth shook his head, his antlers swaying, his eyes hard as he spoke. Rhul’ynth beside him said nothing, although her face was taut with emotion. Issa could think of nothing to say as she looked from one to the other.
They stood on high ground over-looking the two coves below and the cliffs beyond. Behind them, beyond the wall the Feylint Halanoi had hastily built from rubble, an endless vista of dust and scree stretched out under the boiling red sky. A heavy, cloying wind blew.
‘Once this place was filled with forests more ancient than those upon Frayon. There were countless rivers and streams, and now they’re all gone. Where have they gone? Karalanths and settlers lived in peace. The dwarves were not a problem then and kept to themselves in the east. Now there is nothing. Look at it, it’s all gone. And what for? What is this desolate hell we have won back?
‘The forests will grow again,’ said Issa, trying to offer some consolation. ‘We have won it back. We must praise ourselves and not let what has befallen it mar our strength.’
The hard look on Cusap’anth’s face softened. ‘You are right, of course. All things will return once the land is cleansed. By the grace of Woetala.’
‘How can we cleanse this land?’ asked Rhul’ynth.
Issa blinked, the thought hitting her suddenly. ‘We use the orbs!’
‘What?’ Cusap’anth looked at her with raised eyebrows.
‘The orbs of Earth and Water—if they can’t cleanse the land, I don’t know what else can.’
‘How?’ asked Rhul’ynth.
‘I don’t know but maybe if we tried…’ Issa shrugged.
‘I guess there is some hope in what you say. Without fresh water, our victory here will be short lived.’ Cusap’anth looked up at the sky. ‘I doubt these clouds even know what rain is. Look, the ground is dry and parched. It’s more like ash than soil.’
‘We have to try,’ said Issa. Busy in thought, she started walking the steep slopes back to Port Issa, wishing they hadn’t named it that. It may not work, but she had to try, and now was as good a time as any.
The whole camp was alive with activity. Tents filled the entire cove, and more permanent buildings were already being constructed from the rubble of the destroyed barracks. The Dark Dwarf tunnels had been decimated and sealed shut with magic. Issa agreed with the Commanders that they should not be closed permanently for they could be a good way to invade further, faster and unseen into enemy lands.
Another flock of carrier pigeons flapped noisily into the air—the second released today—carrying news of their victory and what supplies were needed, back to Davono, Lans Himay and wherever else troops and supplies might be coming from.
Old stone walls, all that remained of the indigenous community who had once lived here, were being lovingly reconstructed and turned into small dwellings. More supply ships and warships had since arrived from Davono and Atalanph, and the place was fast becoming too small to house everyone.
Now they had their first victory, it was up to the commanders of each unit and company to decide how to progress the war. She really wanted no directional part in it. She was the visionary, the advisor, bringing her powers to battle like a wizard and nothing more. But when it came to facing Baelthrom, she knew everyone would look to her. She prayed Zanufey would come and tell her what
to do.
‘Issa!’ Asaph ran over and swung her into an embrace. He kissed her on the lips and set her down laughing.
She glanced to the sky and saw his dragons flying away. ‘Oh, they’re leaving already? But we need them.’
‘They’re leaving for many reasons but they’ll return. Their job here is done, and their presence will only draw more Dread Dragons. They need rest. They tire quickly after so long asleep. They wanted me to go with them, but I wouldn’t leave you.
‘What happened with Dom—Morhork, the other dragons will have seen or felt it in the Recollection but they won’t understand. It’s possible Morhork may have gone north to Yis anyway.’
‘I know but, I’d barely had time to meet them,’ she sighed.
Cusap’anth and Rhul’ynth approached. The Karalanth leader gripped Asaph’s arm.
‘Well met, two-foot,’ he grinned.
Asaph laughed. ‘Well, I didn’t expect you to miss a fight.’
They walked towards the biggest tent set by the cliff side. It was impressive, being of Elven design. Tall poles lifted up thick tarp dyed purple and green. Despite being bright and colourful, no enemy would be able to see past the magic shield that shimmered over it. Most of the command and supply tents had been protected, concealing them from aerial assault, or at least making it that much harder.
Issa tried not to think of any impending attack. The last few days had been quiet on the enemy front, but she knew Baelthrom was amassing his armies.
‘King Asaph!’ a man called from afar.
Two Draxian men approached, one with a bandage around his head and the other with his arm in a sling. Both were tall, and one had very short red hair whilst the other had his blond hair in the traditional Draxian fashion, long and bound back.
Beyond them, she saw another group of four Draxians following them, their tall statures and tanned complexions betraying their heritage. The men following were either wary or nervous as they eyed Asaph. She turned her attention to the first two whose eyes were wide and searching.
The blond-haired one stood before Asaph. He was older than Asaph by about ten years. ‘It’s you, I swear it is. You have her eyes and his face.’ The man then dropped to his knees, much to Asaph’s horror. Asaph opened and closed his mouth.
‘Many of us hoped you lived. Some of our Wise Women knew you had,’ said the red-haired man, also dropping to his knees. The four men behind quickly followed.
‘We are your loyal men. For this mission we serve Northern Lans Himay, but after, we serve you and only you,’ said the blond.
‘Wait, get up,’ said Asaph. ‘Yes, all right, I am the son of Queen Pheonis and King Ixus. But I am no King for there’s no longer a land for us. What am I King of?’
‘We can take it back,’ said the older man as Asaph helped him up. ‘We’re a scattered people. There are thousands living in exile, hopefully millions, but all will rush to your side. And you are a Dragon Lord, just as the Wise Women knew. You have awakened the dragons—and no one foresaw that.’
‘I’m the last of a dying breed,’ Asaph mumbled, his jaw clenching.
‘We will take it back.’ Issa nodded. Looking at the hope and the passion on the men’s faces ignited the fire inside. ‘Like our victory here today. We will take it all back and wipe these bastards off Maioria.’
The Draxians nodded fervently but Asaph was more sober. ‘It will take careful planning and a lot of soldiers. Draxa fell through trickery and is now as impenetrable to us as it was to the enemy. But I have to return…
‘Look, let’s meet later today and discuss Drax. I need to know everything that happened when Baelthrom invaded the city, anything you can tell me. I shall tell you all that happened to me and Coronos. You shall be the first to hear the truth. Gather all those Draxians who want to know. Go now and tell them.’
The men nodded and hurried off.
‘You have yourself a growing, loyal, army.’ Issa nodded approvingly.
‘I just hope it isn’t for nothing. I try not to think about those who will die,’ said Asaph as they turned back towards the tent.
Inside, battle commanders of the various legions conversed. Even dwarves and Karalanths were present, appearing to hold an uneasy truce, though keeping their distance and eyeing each other warily.
In one corner, Freydel and Haelgon gesticulated, deep in discussion. Asaph headed to them. Ghott—she couldn’t help but think of him as the Barbarian of the North, given his frightening stature and attire—spoke civilly and easily to a well-dressed commander in a pristine uniform.
As she scanned the busy and noisy tent, she realised one person should be amongst them; Marakon. Since he’d entered the demon tunnels—which she assumed he must have—she had been unable to reach him by scrying. She refused to let herself worry he was dead and instead tried to reach him any moment she could.
She sighed and, not wanting to talk battle strategy, quietly stepped back outside to find a quiet place to sit with her orbs.
Carrying one was enough, what with her sword and talisman as well, but carrying two was incredibly burdensome. Aside from Asaph, there was no one she trusted enough to pass the orbs on to. No, there is one person safe and far away from here. Yisufalni. We must combine them and then she can take them away somewhere safe.
Issa climbed up onto a jutting rock that offered a good, yet secluded view of the cove, and settled down cross-legged. Ehka landed beside her. He always knew when she was about to do something interesting.
She slipped the Orb of Water out of its pouch, cupped it in her hands and closed her eyes. Slowly, her consciousness sank into the orb.
‘Orb of Water, show me the springs, show me the rivers and streams that once ran here,’ she commanded.
The orb responded, filling her mind with images of rivers and waterfalls. Her mind was drawn into the earth with it, moving easily through rocks and sand and hidden caverns. Through solid walls she passed, into empty dark dwarf tunnels and deeper.
There came the sound of gushing water. Through a dark dwarf tunnel her vision flowed until she came to a chamber so huge she could not see the ceiling and only the barest light trickled down from above. Water gushed over giant machines of cogs and pulleys, ropes and chains. All of it was made out of Dark Dwarven black iron mined from the bowels of the Maphrax Mountains.
What the machines did, she could not tell. There were also many carts filled with rocks set on tracks that disappeared into the dark. They were mining for something and destroying Maioria in the process. The river gushed through and around the machines, channelled to wash rock or cool mechanisms, she supposed. The land had been bled dry just for them. She scowled.
High up in the ceiling, the river gushed through an enormous pipe. Keeping her eyes closed and inner vision focused, she fumbled for the Orb of Earth and held it in her free hand. Carefully, she entered the Flow. The last time she had used two orbs together they had nearly destroyed her.
Focussing on the Orb of Earth she directed its power—golden in the Flow—to the rock surrounding the pipe. The rock squeezed and trembled. She focused harder. The rock cracked and then collapsed upon and crushed the pipe. The water stopped gushing.
She held the rocks in place, feeling the pressure build swiftly behind it, then she focused on the Orb of Water, adding force and substance to the trapped water.
‘Release,’ she commanded both orbs.
Rocks and water exploded from the ceiling. A torrent flooded into the chamber, engulfing and crushing the great machines as if they were toys. Within moments, the enormous cavern was filled with water—water that needed somewhere to go.
‘Return the river to its original course,’ Issa spoke aloud her intention.
Both orbs became hot. The dark dwarven tunnels collapsed, the rocks helping to push the water up, helping it reach the surface as it sought its original course.
Issa flowed with the water through the darkness until it exploded from the earth. She could feel the old river bed. A faint
, winding indent on the barren earth where once a river might have flowed. The water filled it hungrily, pushing away dirt and rubble as it fought to reach its ordained destination in the sea.
Cries of alarm and then wonder filled the air. Issa opened her eyes and started. Above the cover, exploding through their border wall, came a torrent of water. Quickly she shut her eyes and focussed on the Flow.
‘Stick to the course!’ she commanded the Orb of Water. ‘Do no damage.’
The water calmed, but through the tents it flowed, scattering people from its path. When the water hit the ocean, she heard it give a great sigh. She opened her eyes and stared at the river rushing through the centre of the cove. At first it was muddy, darkening the sea with grey, but soon the water flowed clearer and calmer.
Carefully she released the Flow and looked down at the orbs in her hands, one swirling golden and emerald, the other ocean blue.
‘These are just some of the things they can do,’ she whispered in wonder. Ehka croaked. What had the Flow been like when Maioria’s magic had been whole?
She put the orbs away and made her way to the river. People clustered on both sides, laughing and pointing. Thank the goddess no one had been washed away. Karalanths were the first to jump in and splash in the shallows.
‘You did this?’ Freydel asked her, eyes wide.
‘No, the orbs did. They just showed me how,’ said Issa.
‘This isn’t just orb magic. This is the power to create. Terraforming is a pre-creative power,’ said Freydel, laughing and shaking his head.
‘Recreate, I guess,’ Issa corrected, though she wondered at his words.
9
Demon Exit
Marakon glanced at Shelley.
The wizard was crouching over the fallen soldier who had read the runes. The man wasn’t breathing. Shelley looked up at him, her face pale. ‘He’s gone, Sir.’
War of the Raven Queen: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 6 Page 10
