The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six)

by Rathbone, Brian

  Soon, though, the Gholgi were left behind, and rugged coastline came into view. Valterius executed a long sweeping turn that gave Sinjin a view of caves dotting the coast, some partially submerged in water, others higher on the cliff face. Seabirds flocked to these cliffs, and Sinjin ducked as some flew too close. Out to sea, Sinjin spotted the Dragon's Wing returning from another fishing foray. He noted that it was far too pretty a ship to be relegated to life as a fishing boat. He was glad the role was only temporary. Eventually the ships from the Godfist would arrive, and those could be converted into fishing vessels, but Sinjin thought they might need to build a ship or two in the meantime toward that purpose.

  A storm loomed in the east, and whitecaps dotted the seas. Valterius took them higher, allowing Sinjin to see all of the Firstland at one time. It seemed smaller than he would have thought, but he had no other reference point; he'd never seen any other land from the skies. Still, it gave him the sense that it was half the size of the Godfist--more than large enough for their needs, and though there were Gholgi and other natural predators, the place appeared safe enough.

  The people aboard the Dragon's Wing shouted and waved as Valterius flew low over the bow. Sinjin could see the shocked faces below and he waved. The look on Gwen's face was something he would never forget; she'd been avoiding him, and she did not appear prepared to believe him a true dragon rider. It was something even Sinjin did not believe of himself, yet there he was; it would appear he did not need to believe he was something to be that very thing. It was a discomforting realization. What else was he that he believed otherwise?

  Now that Valterius seemed to have accomplished his goals for this flight, he soared around the Firstland with no apparent destination. Sinjin decided this would be a good time to test the reins. Gently he pulled the dragon's head to one side, and Valterius dipped the respective wingtip, executing a gentle, sweeping turn. Then he pulled back to the other side, and Valterius once again cooperated. Pulling back, he sent the dragon higher, and when he leaned forward, leaving the reins slack, Valterius gently arched into a dive. Trimming his wings, the dragon sent them plummeting toward the cliffs. The longer they dropped, the more concerned Sinjin became, and he started to pull back on the reins; nothing happened. Still they dropped, still Sinjin pulled back, and still nothing happened.

  Sinjin began to wonder if something was wrong with Valterius, and as the forested lands atop the cliffs rushed toward them, he closed his eyes and prepared himself for impact. At what seemed the last possible instant, Valterius pulled up, the force pressing down heavily on Sinjin, the tops of trees trembling in the wash of air they left in their wake. The dragon looked back to Sinjin then as if to say, I am in control. You may express your desire with the reins, but the final decision is mine.

  It was something Sinjin had no choice but to accept. He and Valterius were equals, and if he wanted the dragon to do something, he would just have to find a way to convince him. Dozens of reasons that could be problematic jumped to Sinjin's mind, but what other choice did he have? Even his mother's relationship with Kyrien had been similar; these beasts were not creatures of burden to be used as tools; they were sentient, thinking creatures with the right to decide their own destinies. Sinjin had learned much during this flight, and he returned to the hollow mountain with a renewed sense of purpose.

  Chapter 18

  You can't make something from nothing because never are you nothing.

  --Barabas the druid

  * * *

  The time had come, Sinjin knew. Either he would lead or he would not, and now was the time he must decide which it would be. Fears and self-doubt told him that he could never lead anyone, let alone the Drakon. There was another part of him, though, the part that had been prepared his entire life to lead. It was the only thing he knew how to do, yet he'd never done it. He'd seen it done well and perhaps not so well, but he'd never believed he would lead, that he would be the one judged by the outcomes of his decisions.

  When Valterius alighted once again on the stone of the hollow mountain, those within stopped what they were doing and watched. If he wanted their attention, he had it. A lump formed in his throat, and he had that cold feeling, like right before you did something that could end up being extremely embarrassing. The Drakon, for the most part, were working on replacing the saddle parts they had given to Valterius and Sinjin, and few had more than half a saddle completed. Each person had to learn all the skills required to produce the saddles, and it slowed the process, making it more painful than it needed to be. This was exacerbated by the care they needed to provide for their dragons, not all of whom waited patiently. The Drakon had their hands full, and the sense of urgency that had been haunting Sinjin grew at a greater rate. This felt wrong. He could put no other words or logic to it.

  "Hear me, Dragon clan!" he spoke loudly, and near complete silence fell over the hold. "Your generosity has allowed me to receive the greatest gift, for I have flown with Valterius without fear." In a way, it was an admission of weakness, but he hoped those assembled would see it for what it was: a victory for them all.

  "Al'Drakon," someone called; Sinjin could not identify who it had been. Another man began chanting the title, and people joined in.

  Sinjin held his hands high, asking for silence, and the chant slowly waned. "I feel the need for the saddles will be great and sooner than we may like. We need to make the saddles faster. We don't have time for each of us to learn all the skills required; we need to let people do what they do best."

  Stepping forward, Mikala addressed him. "Each of us has wanted to become part of the saddle, to be one with the dragon and the saddle. But you speak of need. We can be faster if you need us, Al'Drakon."

  She made it that simple for him. "I need you," he said to Mikala and Halmsa, who had walked to her side to show his support. "I need all of you," he said in a louder voice to all those assembled.

  That was all it took. Mikala immediately began coordinating the saddle creation effort. Halmsa spoke with her briefly. Then he and Arakhan began working their way through other parts of the hold.

  Leaning back in his saddle, Sinjin took a rare moment to enjoy his victory. It was short lived. Kendra approached and she didn't look happy. Sinjin's victorious feeling evaporated immediately, and he was suddenly back to being an anxious teen about to be embarrassed by a pretty girl. He chided himself for the weakness and did his best to look confident; it wasn't all that hard when sitting atop a dragon. Valterius was growing listless, though, and Sinjin thought it might be time to get the saddle off of him. Unstrapping himself, he swung his leg over Valterius and jumped down, this time clearing the dragon's spinal ridge.

  He landed harder than anticipated and stumbled toward Kendra. The expression on her face hadn't changed. Benjin led Valterius back to his stall and began removing his saddle, giving Sinjin a chance to do what he must. He drew a breath.

  "Before you say anything," Kendra said, "let me speak."

  Words were poised on Sinjin's tongue, but he held them back.

  "Your speech was very pretty," she said. "The Dragon clan will follow you. After all, you are Al'Drakon. What you didn't say was that you needed me. Wait. Don't speak yet. Hear me out first."

  It was everything Sinjin could do not to at least defend himself. He certainly hadn't meant to exclude anyone.

  "I am neither Drakon nor Dragon clan, and I don't belong here. I'm not sure exactly where it is that I do belong, but I know it isn't here. I wish you well, Sinjin Volker, but I must go."

  "Go?" Sinjin asked. He knew he should have said something more thoughtful and eloquent, but the word escaped his lips.

  "You've found a new future, and I'm happy for you. You have Valterius now; you are Al'Drakon. You can go wherever you choose. I am, again, happy for you. But my future does not involve me staying behind and defending your keep while dutifully waiting for your return."

  Sinjin didn't remember asking her to do any such thing, but she had obviously thought thi
s scenario through much more thoroughly than he had, and he really could think of nothing to say in response. "Will you come back?" he asked when nothing else came to mind.

  "No," Kendra said, a hint of pain in her eyes. "Good-bye, Sinjin Volker."

  "Wait," Sinjin said, his brain finally starting to catch up with what was happening. "Where will you go, and how will you get there?"

  "There are supplies you need, and you no longer need a fishing vessel, so Benjin is planning to go back to the Godfist for supplies and to check on the others. I'm going with them, and I'm not coming back. There are questions I need answered, and I'm not going to find those answers here."

  "Questions about your mother?" Sinjin asked quietly.

  Kendra just nodded, the pain still very evident in her eyes. He didn't want her to go; she was one of the few things in his world that was familiar, and there was more, even if he didn't want to admit it. "You'll always be welcome here," Sinjin said. "If you ever need me, all you need to do is get word to me."

  "That should be simple enough," she said. "You only live in the most remote place I've ever seen."

  Sinjin laughed a small and sad laugh. "Good-bye, Kendra."

  He embraced her and gave her a good squeeze. As he did, he smelled her hair. He wanted to hold her longer, and he would have had she not extricated herself from his arms. He would have said more, but she turned and walked quickly away.

  Sinjin looked to Valterius, and despite everything, he laughed when he saw Durin using an awl to scratch right behind where the saddle had rested; Valterius stretched out his neck and had a faraway look in his eyes.

  Sinjin saw Benjin approaching from off to his right. He walked slowly toward the older man, meeting him halfway.

  "She told you of our plans?"

  "Yes," Sinjin said, and he failed to keep the disappointment from his voice.

  "It's the sensible thing to do," Benjin said, "and we'll be back."

  "Some of you will, at least," Sinjin said, unable to shake the sudden melancholy.

  "Don't look at me for advice on women," Benjin said. "That's not my area of expertise."

  For some odd reason, that statement made Sinjin feel a great deal better.

  "When do you leave?"

  "Now," Benjin said. "Fasha has the Dragon's Wing ready to sail, her hold filled with cured fish as well as fruits and herbs found along the shoreline. If you don't go too far into the jungle, this really isn't all that bad a place."

  His friends were leaving him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The truth was that he knew they were right; they did need supplies, tools, materials, and so many other things he'd once taken for granted. And what could he expect from Kendra? He couldn't ask her to stay behind and guard the keep, and now that he thought more on it, what else could he do? There were no more dragons; he'd have given one to her if he could, but he couldn't. He hadn't even planned on having a dragon. Valterius had chosen him, and it bothered him that he felt guilty about it.

  "I'll walk down with you," Sinjin said and Benjin nodded. With his staff in hand and Koe in his pocket, Sinjin walked in a daze, his thoughts moving too fast to make sense of them all.

  "I'll keep an eye on things here," Durin said when they walked by Valterius's stall. "See you when you get back."

  Knowing that Durin, at least, was staying with him made Sinjin feel a little better. Still, worries crowded his mind. He and Benjin descended in near silence. Climbing back down was trickier in places than it had been going up, but he had the benefit of the staff, and he offered it to Benjin after clearing a particularly difficult part of the climb. Benjin accepted it slowly, and there were tears in his eyes when he handed it back. No words were said, but Sinjin did what he could to assist Benjin in other ways after that point.

  At the base of the mountain, they rested and drank from a flask Benjin carried.

  "I never thought it would turn out like this," Sinjin said.

  "Don't feel bad, m'boy," Benjin said. "Most of what I ever thought would happen in this life was wrong. You get used to it."

  Though the statement didn't inspire confidence, it did make Sinjin smile, and that was enough to get them moving again. The sun was already starting to sink lower toward the sea, and Sinjin would bet that Fasha was already cursing Benjin for taking so long. When that woman decided it was time to leave, she meant it.

  The Dragon's Wing sparkled in the light against a backdrop of orange and purple sky; it was a breathtaking sight. She was anchored not far off shore, and a single boat waited on the beach; beside it stood Pelivor. A bit of pain in his chest forced Sinjin to admit that he'd been hoping to see Gwen there, hoping to say something, though he didn't know exactly what. It was not to be. He saw no sign of Kendra, who must have hurried dangerously to get to the shore and onto the ship before Sinjin and Benjin made it to the sea.

  "It has been a pleasure to sail with you, and I look forward to our return," Pelivor said. "We'll be back as quickly as the winds allow."

  Benjin said no more, and the three of them pushed the boat back into the water. "It doesn't get any easier," Benjin said after climbing into the boat. "Just keep your chin up and do your best. That's really all you can do."

  "Would you please tell Gwen that I said good-bye?" Sinjin asked, not wanting to look at Benjin.

  The girl's father just nodded and said nothing more.

  With that, they set off for the Dragon's Wing. Sinjin remained where he was until after the ship gained the skies and disappeared into the horizon.

  * * *

  Broken.

  Allette moved through the jungle like the wounded creature she was. On the outside she was scraped and scratched and bruised, but on the inside she felt the real damage, the wounds that would never heal. Still she moved deeper into the Jaga, knowing it wasn't safe to stop anywhere. She persisted on edible plants that Thundegar had described to her and others she was already familiar with. Seeing huckles growing in a jungle came as something of a shock, but a welcome one. Allette had always known them from growing along the fence lines at her uncle's farm. Though he'd died years before, Allette felt a pang when she remembered the times she'd spent there. Her father and her uncle had been complete opposites--one taking to the land and the other to the sea. Her father had always joked that it could only be expected when a sailor marries a land-bound woman. Her grandmother had always laughed the loudest at that joke.

  As she moved through older and more established forest, dark shapes shadowed her. Feeling like a squirrel surrounded by cats, Allette kept moving, her legs fueled by fear. She existed in two different places then. Part of her witnessed the horror around her, smelled the coming foulness, and still found a way to move closer to the Midlands, the only place even remotely like home. The other part of her existed in the memories of her childhood and imaginations of the things to come. The simple vision of sitting before a fire and frying a fresh-caught fish in oil with spices and a cup of mulled wine kept her alive; it kept her moving despite the stark reality of her current situation.

  The Maker's Mark was gone, she knew, but that did not mean she couldn't sail. No one could take from her the seas, and she would once again be free. The thought of being back on a ship, back in control of her destiny, was even more alluring. For so long now, ever since she'd lost her father, she'd felt like a lost child; it was a feeling she liked not at all, and she vowed to take control of her destiny. No one and nothing would stand before her. She had lost all that was dear to her and had betrayed those she loved at the cost of their lives. Guilt and anguish rolled over her in equal measure, and she fought the effects. It was those thoughts that were the most dangerous; it was those thoughts that would be the end of her. It wasn't her fault. She'd asked for none of this. All she'd done was try to survive. What had she done to deserve such wickedness?

  Then came the anger, and it burned within her like a blazing inferno. A growl escaped her throat as she continued at a measured pace. She was strong; Thundegar had said so. Her a
nger turned on him; he hadn't protected her, none of them had. There was no one left in the world who cared for her, and the part of her that cared for others seemed to die in that moment.

  Looking around her, Allette was drawn back into the real world, and what she saw terrified her. She had moved in a trance for so long that she hadn't realized how far into the Jaga she had traveled. Around her shambled looming, upright shapes, moving within a black and slime-covered landscape. Even that which lived seemed to be dying. Allette wasn't certain how such a place could exist or sustain itself, yet here she was.

  Beams of sunlight pierced the foliage but were frequently interrupted. Though she wanted to believe it was simply an effect of the wind moving leaves and branches, there was no wind to speak of, and she knew what it really was. The thought of all those feral dragons in the air made her shiver; even a single one was more than she'd ever want to encounter. They were such savage creatures, and though she didn't want to, she could almost relate to them. They existed for only themselves, and anything else that came near them was something to be attacked; what had once seemed evil now seemed like simple survival.

  New cuts and gashes crossed her flesh, and she took the time to coat her wounds in mud--anything to hide the smell of blood. Most of her was already covered in the ubiquitous black slime, which helped her blend in with the surroundings. What would have once seemed revolting was now something that might keep her alive. Her perspective had been forever changed, and she would never see things the same, no matter what happened.