The Ship of Tears_The Legend of the Nine_Part One

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The Ship of Tears_The Legend of the Nine_Part One Page 7

by T. J. Garrett


  Gialyn nodded. He had heard that of Krassians; once started, they would never leave a job half done.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ll know more when Sek decides to share.”

  “Has he still not told you what he’s doing here?”

  “I know what he’s doing here,” Gialyn said. “He is gathering the dragon clans under one banner. As for what he wants with me…” He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll know more after he has shown me what this thing is he finds so interesting.”

  Mersius made a chuckling noise in the back of his throat. Maybe he did not think whatever Sek had found would be all that interesting. Or maybe he already knew what it was, and was laughing at Gialyn’s comment. It was hard to tell with Mersius; he was a Seer, and sometimes he just knew things.

  Shiroku looked at the boy. “Do you know what it is?” she asked.

  Mersius did not raise his head from the leather strap he was oiling, but his silver eye was spinning.

  “I’ll find out soon enough,” Gialyn told Shiroku.

  “Maybe I should come with you,” she said.

  “No,” Mersius whispered. “It is for Gialyn.”

  Shiroku sighed. “What was that I said about dragons and their secrets?”

  Gialyn shot her a patient grin. Yes, the boy was another one who liked his mysteries.

  After ten minutes of mundane talk about gathering food, the state of their boots, and what Daric and the others might be up to, Gialyn made his way over to the lake.

  What he saw made him wish the others had decided to come with him.

  CHAPTER 6

  Uld

  “You made a portal?” Gialyn said to the black dragon. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

  “I can’t.”

  They were on the far side of the lake from the drying shed, in the circular clearing the dragons used as a landing area – what with all the trees about, there were not many places for the dragons to land. Sek was standing by a perfectly square portal, at least four spans on a side, big enough even the black dragon could enter without coming close to the sides – assuming he kept his wings furled, that was.

  “Then who?” Gialyn asked.

  Sek nodded to his left. Someone was standing next to the portal.

  “Summer? Is that you? Why…?”

  Despite the cool breeze off the lake, summer was wearing the same thin dress she always wore – a white summer dress which came down just beyond her knees. She was wearing boots, and her hair was held off her face by a blue scarf. Over her arm, she carried what looked like a thick blanket.

  “Hello, Gialyn,” Summer said. “Please, we must hurry. Where we are going, we do not want to be there after dark.”

  Summer looked up at Sek, a reproving look in her eye.

  “Don’t look at me,” the black dragon said. “You mentioned nothing of when we should leave.”

  She mentioned nothing? Who wants me to see this thing, Sek or Summer?

  “That’s as may be,” Summer said, “but unless you want to wait until morning, we should go.”

  “As you say, Guardian,” Sek said. “Would you like to lead the way?”

  “Hang on a minute,” Gialyn said. “Just where are we going?”

  “North and east,” Summer said. “Beyond Nos’fael, beyond Cabash. You ever heard of the Yasmin River?”

  Gialyn shook his head.

  “Well, I’m not surprised,” Summer said. “It is sort of off the map… just a little. Nothing for you to worry over, though; I’ve been there before… once… a long time ago.”

  Gialyn stepped closer, trying to get a look through the portal, but all he could see was a blanket of white mist and a few hills. Frowning, he said, “Are you sure? You don’t sound like you know what’s through there. What’s on this river?”

  “Hard to explain,” Summer said. “Which is why we are going. You need to see it for yourself.”

  “See what?” Gialyn asked. “I don’t mind saying, you are making me nerv—”

  “I thought you said time was short,” Sek interrupted.

  Summer sighed. “And so it is. Shall we go?”

  Without waiting for an answer, she stepped through the portal.

  Gialyn followed.

  He had Travelled through a portal before, more than once, but this was different. Yes, Travelling usually came with that somewhat dizzying feeling and a sensation of cold, but this time…

  Gialyn fell to his knees. They were in a field, but the ground was hard, near frozen. All around, the land sloped off into a wide valley. They were on a ridge overlooking that valley. A river, likely this Yasmin, ran along the valley floor. The river was wide and meandering, much wider than the Broan.

  Gialyn sat up. His stomach clenched, and he closed his eyes, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

  “Just how far have we come?” he asked Summer.

  “As I said, we are off the map.”

  “I know, but how far?”

  “Three thousand leagues, maybe,” Summer said, as if she were talking about a trip to the local inn.

  “Gods. I didn’t know the world was that big.”

  “Oh, it’s bigger than that. It goes all the way around; we are barely halfway.”

  “All the way around?” Gialyn whispered. What was she talking about now?

  Gialyn shivered. “Cold up here.”

  Summer handed him the blanket she was carrying. Turns out it was a thick cloak. She had another for herself, and she swung it around her shoulders.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me to bring mine?” Gialyn asked.

  “Because Shiroku and Toban might have had a clue where we are going, or at least that we have Travelled a long way. They might have wanted to come, and this is not for them.”

  “And Mersius?” Gialyn asked. “Does he know where we are?”

  Summer did not answer. Instead, she just smiled and turned to Sek. “I got us this far,” she said. “Now it is your turn.”

  “Wait,” Gialyn said. “We’re not there yet? Why didn’t you just—”

  “Because portals won’t work where we are going,” Summer said. “Now, if you are ready, we should fly. It gets dark earlier up here.”

  Sek leaned forward with his chest on the hard ground and stuck out a foot. Summer climbed up the dragon’s leg until she was sitting at the base of his neck. Gialyn followed her example and sat just behind, half a span from Sek’s wings.

  “Well, at least I know why we are on top of this ridge,” he said.

  Before Summer could say anything in reply, Sek started running down the hill. Ten long paces and a big jump later, and they were gliding over the river.

  “East,” Summer shouted. “You want to go up river.”

  “I know,” Sek said. “You told me not an hour ago, girl.”

  She told him where to go? Just how much of this was Summer’s doing? It seemed Sek knew no more of their destination than Gialyn did. So how does he know what is up that river?

  Gialyn had no doubt Sek knew what was at the end of their journey, but not where it was.

  More mysteries.

  They flew for maybe half an hour, following the river all the way. To the north, Gialyn saw a line of high mountains, snow-dusted pines making a band around their base. To the south, nothing but undulating grassland, most of which was frozen over. He saw no buildings or roads or anything which might indicate humans lived there. A herd of goats made the only movement in that frozen land. He heard the call of a mountain hawk and saw what looked like bear tracks on the river bank, but of the creatures themselves, there was no sign.

  Eventually, they reached a point where the river widened into an area big enough to call a lake.

  “Down there,” Summer shouted. “On that scarp. It’s not far from here. Don’t fly near the mist.”

  “What mist?” Gialyn said. He could see no mist; the lake seemed clear….

  Only it was not….

  Not until they approached the scarp, did Gialyn reali
se the lake he had seen was not a lake at all. Rather, it was a thick cloud of dense fog. So dense, it reflected the shadow of the trees which made a border around its southern edge. The surface of the fog seemed to shine, like a lake, and if Gialyn looked closely, he could see small eddies in the mist, like silver whirlpools.

  As they landed on the scarp, Gialyn saw what looked like a tower in the middle of the lake of fog.

  “Is that thing moving?” he asked when he and Summer were back on solid ground.

  “Slowly,” Summer said. “No more than a brisk walking pace. But yes, it is moving.”

  “What is it?” Gialyn said.

  Summer opened her mouth to speak, but Sek interrupted her.

  “That,” the black dragon said, voice level, “is the reason my ancestors left Cabash.”

  Gialyn frowned. He could not see how a big rock would cause hundreds of dragons to leave their home?

  “But what is it? And what’s it doing here? Didn’t your ancestors leave Cabash three thousand years ago?”

  “It is called the Red,” Sek said.

  Gialyn huffed. “Peculiar name,” he said. “Not much of a description, though. I mean, yeah, it’s red, but what is it?”

  “It speaks the name,” Sek said.

  Gialyn sighed. Why were dragons always so melodramatic?

  “Do I have to ask?”

  “The name of god,” Sek said. “The name of Power, of the Balance. Some of your folk call it the Voice of Uld. It is the Seeker, Diobael’s vessel. You have heard of him, haven’t you?”

  “Of course I’ve heard of him,” Gialyn said, trying to hide a shiver.

  He looked at the huge red thing. It was right in the middle of the lake of fog. Looking at it, Gialyn thought he could see shapes forming on its surface. He wondered if they could get any closer. But even if they went to the edge of the fog, they would still be a long mile from the centre; he would not have a much better view than he had now. And something else was telling him not to get too close. Something in the Voice, maybe? Or was it in the cold air they were breathing? Whatever it was, it felt wrong, like trying to row a boat upstream.

  It was not just the inner Voice that sounded wrong. He could hear something on the wind. A sigh, like some great beast had just put down a heavy load. That beast sounded overjoyed, as if it had been carrying that load for an eternity.

  It is the Balance, a small voice said. And the beast is the Earthen Voice.

  What is the Balance?

  Gialyn reached out with the Voice to ask his question, but there was nothing there, not even the silver curtain.

  Odd, he thought. The curtain is always there.

  And; the beast is the Earthen Voice? What did that mean? And why was it sighing? Was the fog somehow affecting the earth beneath it, changing it somehow?

  No, not changing the land, releasing the Voice, freeing the Powers from within.

  Who are you? Gialyn sent. Free the Powers? Why would it free the Powers?

  No answer.

  Gialyn knew the four Powers – Earth, Sky, Water, and Spirit – were not living things. Yes, folk named them and called them gods, but they were not a single entity – one could not simply point at a thing and say, “Look, there’s Ein’laig,” or “Over there, I just saw Aregolas.” The Powers were everywhere – in the land, in the air, in the water, and in the spirit realm. Knowing that, what had the little voice in his head meant by, freeing the Power from within? Was this mist somehow affecting the Balance, releasing the Powers from its grip as it slowly travelled along the river?

  If that were true, what would that mean for his battle against Diobael’s minions – the Karakin, the Watchers, the Cral demons? Without the Balance to hold them in check, the forces of evil could flow over the land, changing men’s hearts, forging armies of evil. Without the Balance, Diobael would be free to plunge the world into darkness.

  Gialyn shivered at the thought. He remembered what Sek had said about the lightning, and how the Balance would not allow him the use of such a weapon without great need. What if he could summon those weapons at will? What if his enemies could summon them?

  Abruptly, he remembered his vision of the future, the one where he was king. He remembered looking out over Bailryn, looking at the destruction – the crumbling walls, the huge rents in the earth, the buildings that simply were not there anymore. A dragon could not have done that. Had the Bailryn of the future suffered an attack of unbridled Power? Had someone like Gialyn called down lightning on the defenceless city? And was this Red Rock thing responsible for unleashing that Power? If so, they had to stop it. Never mind the Karakin, if this thing rolled over Aleras, there would be nothing left to fight for.

  But how could he destroy a huge rock surrounded by a lake of impenetrable mist? A mist that, if he was understanding Sek correctly, had been created by Diobael.

  No, that’s not right, he told himself. Didn’t Sek say this thing is three thousand years old? How could Diobael have made it?

  “What did you mean, it is his vessel?” Gialyn asked. “Is Diobael in there?”

  “No,” Sek spat, irritated. “Honestly, it’s a wonder you humans have survived this long. Did you not hear me? It is a vessel, just as that bird of yours is a vessel.” He nodded at Summer.

  “That’s not entirely true,” Summer said. “But it’s close enough.”

  “You mean, Pyta?” Gialyn went on. Again, he wondered how a raven could hold all the guardian’s thoughts and memories.

  He remembered Damari saying something about vessels. Or was it Rain? Anyway, someone else had said something about Pyta being a vessel. Then he remembered what Summer had told him, “We take turns. Sometimes it’s Pyta’s turn, sometimes it’s mine,” and was instantly more confused. How could any of that have anything to do with the Red Rock?

  “Are you saying, Diobael is part of that thing, that he can somehow use it?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” Sek said. “Diobael’s mind is part of the vessel, just as the mind of Mersius is part of the bird. They are connected, but are not the same. Each have their own mind, but one cannot survive without the other.”

  Gialyn looked at Summer. “Is that true? Could you not survive without Pyta?”

  “I would survive,” Summer said, “but not in the same way. As for Pyta, I don’t know. He is only a bird.”

  Only a bird, Gialyn thought. He looked over at the thing in the centre of the lake of fog. And is that only a big red rock?

  “So, if we destroy that,” he nodded at the Red, “we destroy Diobael? Is that what you are saying? Is that why we are here?”

  Sek laughed. “As easy to catch the sun in the palm of your hand. Did you hear what I said, the dragons fled Cabash rather than face the Red.”

  “Still,” Gialyn said, “if we can…”

  A thought occurred to him…

  Three thousand years; it could not have been moving all that time, everyone would know about it. Gods, it could have travelled the known world ten times in three thousand years.

  “Is Diobael controlling it? Is that why it started moving again?”

  Sek gave him a dragon smile. “Very clever. Now you are beginning to understand our problem.”

  “Oh dear,” Gialyn said. “And here I was worry about a few thousand insane Karakin.”

  Summer put a hand on his arm. “All things in their own time,” she said. “We have years before the Red reaches the Cuanmor. At least three. Plenty of time to deal with our other problem.”

  Gialyn sighed with relief. Then, looking up at Sek, he said, “Just how long have you known about this?”

  Again, the dragon smiled.

  No wonder he’s been in such a rush, Gialyn thought. And no wonder he’s been acting like he alone holds the key to the castle gates.

  “Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Gialyn said.

  “I had thought this a problem I alone could solve. I have since come to believe I was mistaken in my judgement.” He made a grunting noise. “It wa
s those prophecies; you humans have a habit of clouding the truth with colourful metaphors. The black dragon will do this… The black dragon will do that… He alone will quell the beast… There’s more, but I won’t bore you with it. Enough to say, there could be more than one dragon in the prophecy, and he, or she, does not have to be black.”

  He stared at the mist, a vacant look in his eye. “How different this all would have been had I but listened to you.”

  Listened to who? Gialyn thought.

  He did not think Sek was talking about him. Was the black dragon listening to his own Voices? Gialyn hoped not; one group of insane mythical creatures was quite enough, thank you very much.

  Gialyn turned back to the lake of fog. “Where do you think it is going?”

  “If I were guessing,” Summer said, “I would say the Blue Tower.”

  “Why there?” Gialyn said

  “It wants Arenthenia,” Summer said. “And the line between realities is thin around the towers.” She shrugged. “But I could be wrong. For all I know, it will pass right over Aleras and head for the Western Isles.”

  “But you don’t think you are wrong.”

  Summer spent a moment staring out at the Red, then shook her head. “Spirit is the key to the Balance; it is heading for Arenthenia. And when it gets there,” she waved a hand, taking in the mountains and the fields and the river, “all this will disappear.”

  Gialyn swallowed hard. He did not think she meant just these mountains and rivers and fields; she was talking about the entire world.

  CHAPTER 7

  A Message from Evin

  Old Kunadi was full. There were tents and lean-tos everywhere. And where there were no tents and lean-tos, folk slept on the dirt or on the big steps by the square or on the stone stage – everywhere but under the old arches. Rubbish and filth and rotten food filled every out of the way nook. And where the nooks were full, more filth and rot was piled high where the new city folk made their makeshift camps. No one felt safe. Beatings and fighting were common. And where two men found a woman alone, there was worse than fighting.

 

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