Deep in a mountain cavern, a being stirred restlessly. Aware that events long prophesied were now beginning to take place he came fully alert, knowing that much depended on the Weaver of Destiny and the Maker of Change.
King Faldarin sat on the throne listening to an elderly noble petitioning on behalf of his son who wished to become a knight. Slightly back and on the king’s right Emeldra sat, sipping her cup of tyna. Her thoughts, however, were elsewhere. Three times a week the king sat in court, answering requests and making judgements put before him by his people. Most recent concerns of the people centred on worries over the red dragon and the Paenalirs. Emeldra understood the common people’s concern for their homes and families. There were those better off, however, who sought to make political gain of recent events.
Emeldra usually felt fascinated by her father’s adept handling of those few and even helped, with some encouragement from him, to outmanoeuvre them. Now all she could think of was the sudden disappearance of Matra. Senion had brought the message earlier explaining that Matra had said he would return by dark. Emeldra wondered why he had not contacted her mentally himself, rather than send a message. She knew Matra didn’t like to be always intruding on her thoughts. Somehow she believed that whatever his reasons, he wanted them kept secret.
Matra walked deeper into the caves which honeycombed the Mountains of Dragor, a light spell lighting the way. A ball of glowing blue light also went before him. Matra used the wizard’s eye to seek out the thing he searched for; it pulsed steadily and seemingly moved with a life of its own. Patiently Matra turned down passage after passage. Water dripped from the cave walls, and stalagmites thrust upwards sometimes blocking his path so that he had to squeeze through a narrow gap. Other times he had to retrace his path and find another way around.
The path ahead began to descend. The air smelled damp and stagnant. The passage narrowed; on either side, the walls were wet and covered with slimy green algae. Ahead the sound of running water could be heard like distant thunder echoing through the caves. Suddenly the passage opened out into a vast underground cavern. Water poured down the walls from many different crevices, filling a sinkhole in the cavern floor to form a large lake. On the far side water cascaded from a large cave mouth high above. The roar of the water was deafening, drowning out any other sound as it merged with the lake in a foaming white fountain which threw up a constant spray, creating a mist over the lake. Matra knew he had found the Falls of Dragor and nearby would be what he sought.
As if in answer to his thought, the wizard’s eye pulsed quicker and darted across the far side. It settled over a cave mouth just above water level, near the falls. A ledge jutted out in front of the cave, forming a platform. Matra drew his attention to the lake as he glimpsed something moving through the water. Suddenly a huge serpent-like head rose from the depths, blowing water through its nostrils. Green eyes leered at Matra. Opening its maw it hissed, showing needle-like teeth; a leathery forked- tongue darted in and out. Rising, the creature revealed a long scaly body with barbed spines.
Matra drew his sword, knowing magic would be no good against a creature of antimagic. However, there was room to shapeshift. He decided to keep that advantage till he needed it. The serpent suddenly darted forward. Swiftly Matra dodged aside and slashed with his sword, slicing a piece of skin from the creature’s side. It hissed angrily and redirected itself to Matra’s new position. This time its tail lashed out as it whipped its body round.
Matra interpreted the move too late, its tail catching him around the legs and knocking him off balance. He fell backwards, scrambled to his feet; he hacked at the tail as it withdrew. Again the tail came around, this time higher. Matra dived under it, rolling to one side. He came up, swinging his sword above his head, bringing it down swiftly, chopping the tail in half. Green fluid spurted from the severed tail as the creature hissed a screech of rage; lurching out of the water, it dived towards Matra.
Sidestepping, Matra flung himself onto the serpent’s neck as it dived back into the water. He hung tightly to its neck and held his breath. The creature resurfaced again, and Matra gulped in air. Grimly, before the serpent could dive under again, he drove his sword into its left eye. Half blinded, the monster thrashed in agony and rage, throwing Matra back on to the ground. His sword still protruded from the creature’s now eyeless socket.
Chapter Seven
Dazed, Matra staggered to his feet. Blood ran down his right arm. With no time to check his wounds Matra changed form just as the serpent again sprang towards him. He rose above the serpent as its momentum carried it forward to where it thought Matra should have been. He came down from behind it. Talons gripped around the creature’s head, tearing through skin and tissue. Matra suddenly pulled back, wrenching the creature’s head back sharply; bone cracked as Matra twisted the head and a protruding bone went through its brain. A gurgling sound came from the creature before it fell lifeless into the water.
Matra alighted on the platform where his wizard’s eye still hovered. Changing form, he entered the cave, casting a light spell. He spotted a small alcove at the far end. A smooth and slightly raised section of stone in an otherwise rough and flat stone wall was the only indication of a hidden compartment. Stepping back, he cast a detect trap spell. Finding nothing, he pressed. Stone grated on stone as the compartment opened; a small heart-shaped stone lay inside. Matra picked the stone up, brushing the dust and cobwebs from it.
Emeldra stood at her window biting her bottom lip, it was long past dusk, and Matra still had not returned. Once again she searched the darkened sky for any sign, seeing nothing but the occasional night bird. She shivered in the cold night air from the open window and returned to her nervous pacing of the room. Emeldra pondered why she fretted so while he was not around. The words of the gold dragon when they parted once more came to her hauntingly. Emeldra considered she might have misunderstood the meaning of what Cara had said. Finally satisfied that this had to be the case, she returned to watching at the window. Looking up, she saw a dark shape approach, silently gliding into the courtyard. Emeldra watched as the shape changed form. Seeing Matra outlined in the moonlight, relief washed over her, bringing back the same emotions she thought she had laid to rest. He spoke briefly to the guards on duty before walking towards the castle. Only then did Emeldra relax and retire to her bed. She fell asleep wondering where he had been.
Princess Emeldra sat on a bench in the castle gardens looking up at the sun; she judged it well past midday. Though winter drew near the sun still held some warmth. The sheltered position of the gardens kept many flowers blooming late. Breathing in the fragrance, she considered where Matra had been the day before and the significance that he had spent some time earlier in the jeweller’s and the blacksmith’s. He had contacted her mentally, arranging to meet her. The sound of approaching footsteps meant she would not have to wait much longer to find out.
“I have a gift for you, Princess,” Matra said as he entered the garden and sat beside Emeldra. He pulled out a small pouch from his pocket and handed it to her. Emeldra opened the pouch, emptying the contents into her free hand.
“Oh, it’s beautiful, Matra. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Emeldra replied, studying the heart-shaped stone on a stout gold chain. The stone looked like a heart-shaped pebble with a smooth surface though mainly grey in appearance. The centre glowed with a blood-red light that throbbed bewitchingly.
“It’s a heartstone. Here, let me put it on for you.” Taking the chain, he stood and fastened it around her neck. “It’s a special stone which will allow you to contact me from afar as easily as I can you. Also, I have put some magic of my own into it,” he explained as he sat down again.
“I’ve never heard of a heartstone before, is it rare?” she asked. The stone felt warm to the touch as she lifted the chain to hold the stone in her hand. The stone radiated a red glow which suddenly flared through her fingers, then died down to soft glow again. “What happened?” Emeldra exclaimed in surpri
se, quickly letting go of the stone.
“You have just keyed the magic of the stone, is all. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again. There is something else I should tell you about the stone though.” He paused, looking at Emeldra intensely; his eyes met hers. He sensed conflicting emotions from her which he found hard to sort one from another. “The stone is warded. Once attuned to the wearer, it cannot be removed,” he continued. “And yes, it is rare,” he finally answered, a troubled frown crossing his face.
A sudden wave of suspicion came from Emeldra that made Matra feel desolate. “What other magic have you put in it?” Emeldra began. For the first time since they had met she felt distrust towards Matra. “Why didn’t you tell me I can’t take it off, what have you done?” she asked her eyes flashing angrily. She made to try and remove the chain as Matra grabbed her wrists.
“No! You will harm yourself if you try to remove it now,” Matra explained as he wrestled to keep her from taking the chain off.
“What! You get me to wear this stone knowing it could harm me?” Emeldra replied incredulously. She stopped struggling, her arms falling limply. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she shook her head in disbelief, at a loss for words.
“You don’t understand; please let me explain,” he beseeched, letting go of her wrists. Before he could say more, Emeldra stood and ran from the garden sobbing. He reached out with his mind to contact her, but she blocked him out.
Sitting alone in the garden, Matra felt confused. Try as he might he could not understand human nature. That he had waited till after Emeldra had put the heartstone on to tell her about it seemed only a minor matter to him. In his eagerness to get her to wear the stone so as it would help keep her safe, he had withheld some information regarding the stone’s properties. He had as yet not told her everything about the heartstone.
Running to her chambers, Emeldra slammed the door and flung herself on the bed, sobbing into her pillow. Minutes later a small tap sounded on the door. Emeldra wiped her eyes, ignoring the knocking which became more persistent. “Go away, I don’t want to see anyone right now,” Emeldra eventually called out. The knocking stopped. Opening the door, Senion entered. Though against Emeldra’s wishes she felt whatever troubled the princess, she did need someone to talk to.
“Forgive me, Emeldra, but I didn’t think you meant me to go away,” began Senion tentatively. “Has Matra spurned you? I know you met with him in the garden. What has happened?” Senion asked, concern showing in her voice. She could not believe Matra would do anything dishonourable or discourteous. The only thing she could see could have happened to upset the princess was that she had made known feelings that he did not return.
“Oh, Senion,” Emeldra began, sitting up on the bed, wiping her tear-stained face. “He gave me this.” Emeldra held the chain out for Senion to see. Senion looked closely at the chain and heartstone before replying.
“It’s beautiful and very rare too, I think, but I still don’t understand what’s upset you so,” Senion answered, looking at the tearful princess bewilderedly.
As Emeldra explained what had happened in the garden Senion listened quietly. When she finished, she waited a moment. When Emeldra said no more, she frowned thoughtfully. “He gave you the stone so you could contact him from afar, right?” Senion asked, regarding the princess, taking her hands in her own.
“Yes.” Emeldra nodded her head dolefully. Though more composed, her voice still quavered slightly with emotion.
“But because if you try to take it off, it might cause you harm, you suspect he has some other motive for giving it to you,” continued Senion patiently. She looked expectantly at Emeldra.
“There has to be. Why would he get me to wear it and not tell me until after that it could harm me if I tried to remove it?” asked Emeldra. Her expression pleaded for Senion to supply a possible alternative to relieve the misery she felt.
“You are right,” began Senion, looking firmly at Emeldra.
“What!” Emeldra interjected, surprised. She had expected Senion to reason out a plausible explanation that she could accept, not to agree with her. She found herself rising to Matra’s defence. Before she could say more, Senion continued, a smile crossing her face.
“You are right because he has another motive and a very obvious one to any who can see.” She paused as Emeldra looked at her, wide-eyed. “He cares a great deal about you and by your behaviour you care for him also,” Senion concluded, still smiling. Emeldra’s mouth opened soundlessly. She closed it then opened it again. Still, no words came. Finally, she spoke haltingly.
“Tha—That’s ridiculous. In—In any case it doesn’t explain why he got me to—to wear this stone, knowing it could harm me?” Emeldra shook her head in denial.
“Only if you try and take it off,” Senion stated simply as Emeldra’s mouth opened wordlessly again. Senion stood, let go of Emeldra’s hands. She made to leave.
“No, I can’t accept what you say, Senion. You may be right about the stone, but he must have another reason. I’m fond of him. He’s a dragon, Senion, anything more would be ludicrous,” Emeldra explained inside something flinched at her denial. Around her neck, the heartstone’s glow momentarily flared brighter then faded to an almost faint spark.
“He is also every bit a man, I believe,” Senion said. Shaking her head, she left the princess alone again.
The ancient being stirred, restlessly knowing the rift he had recently witnessed would repair itself given time, yet this being an age of prophecy, and prophecies needed fulfilling, he pondered whether to intervene, for long minutes unmoving. Then, decision made, the being cast his mind in a complex web of thought projections, reaching out, entering the mind of the one he sought unnoticed.
Though the hour was still early Emeldra felt suddenly very tired. Feeling recent events had drained her completely; she lay back on the bed and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
Visions swam before her eyes!
Her father stood before her. “Remove the chain,” she commanded before he could even grasp the chain in his hands. He died in agony as flames consumed him. Senion stood before her. Emeldra commanded her to remove the chain. Senion tugged at the chain and fire consumed her also. Then Matra stood before her. She screamed at him, accusing him of making her kill the ones she cared for most in life.
“It’s a heartstone, follow your heart,” he told her. She screamed at him again. Grabbing the chain, she pulled it.
It fell to the ground at her feet!
The red heart of the stone extinguished, the stone looked cold and lifeless. Emeldra stared down at the heartstone in disbelief; it hadn’t harmed her. Both her father and her dearest friend needlessly died because she had doubted Matra. Grief-stricken, she sank to her knees, hands covering her face. A faraway voice echoed in her head.
“Princess you weave the destiny of others; choose well,” the voice said. Looking up, Emeldra thought herself to be in a dark cave. A vague shape stirred nearby. “Now watch what has been, for you wove the pattern that brought the stone to you,” the voice said as if talking to an ignorant child.
Visions danced before her eyes again. She saw Matra walking down a narrow, damp passage. A feeling of impending danger overtook her; she tried to cry out in warning as Matra entered a large cavern with an underground lake. Too late, she saw the monster rise from the water. Breathlessly she watched as Matra fought and killed the creature. Then after entering the cave, she saw the small heart-shaped stone in his hand as he made his way back. Only then did she realise, she had re-lived what Matra had gone through to get the heartstone.
The visions faded slowly Emeldra wakened. Familiar and concerned voices came from nearby. Opening her eyes, Emeldra found herself looking into the faces of her father and Senion.
“Thank the creator you’re awake,” her father said, brushing a hand through his grey hair.
Chapter Eight
“What’s wrong?” asked Emeldra sleepily. “Why are you all looking at me like that? I’ve j
ust had a nap is all, I’m sorry if I missed supper,” sitting up. She could see Marcus Lanton stood near the door also.
“Your Highness, you slept the night through and nearly half the next day,” Senion explained worriedly.
“We couldn’t wake you, Emeldra,” the king said, sitting beside his daughter. He put an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. “Marcus thinks you may have been in some kind of dream trance,” he concluded. His face showed concern and relief.
“Oh,” exclaimed Emeldra, “I am fine, Father, honestly. I don’t know what came over me, but I feel fine now,” she reassured him. Giving her father a hug, she said nothing of her visions even when Marcus Lanton pressed her on the subject of dream trances.
Emeldra bathed and changed then sent Senion for some food. While waiting she considered her dreams. The vision of Matra fighting the serpent remained uppermost in her memory. The other visions she preferred not to think about, except that they seemed to be telling her she was behaving foolishly about the heartstone. Realising she had not seen or heard from Matra since awakening, she reached out to contact him mentally.
Emeldra felt other people’s thoughts as she searched for Matra but nowhere could she find Matra’s unique mind. The thoughts that radiated from Matra had a certain clarity Emeldra felt she could pick out even in a crowd.
“Where is Matra?” Emeldra asked as Senion brought a tray with several dishes of food. Another maid brought a tray with a pot of tyna. Emeldra sampled a dish filled with fresh peeled and sliced fruits.
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