“Part of me wishes I could have seen that fight.” Gisella chuckled and drained her mead, holding up her mug to call for a refill.
“As I understand it, the high wizards are debating about declaring her an elemental master.”
No wizard had held that title since before The Sundering. Gisella was no expert on Arcane Lore, but she learned enough to remember entire disciplines were lost when the world broke. Earth Magic became little more than stories, and most advanced Water Magic dwelt in the realm of fables.
“That seems… unlikely.”
“Apparently”—Pancras clucked his tongue—“she learned much from that pre-Sundering grimoire of hers.”
The minotaur’s arm shot out, catching Qaliah’s head before the fiendling bashed it on the table and landed face-first in her plate. He leaned her back in her chair as her head lolled to the side.
Gisella helped herself to the fiendling’s mead. “I don’t envy her the headache she’s going to have tomorrow.”
***
Kale stood on a grassy cliff, overlooking the sea as it surged and crashed against the rocks below. The sun blazed high in the sky, and the drak noticed how much warmer it felt by the cliff than it did in Muncifer. He spun, searching for a clue, a hint, or a recognizable landmark to tell him where he stood. Although he could no longer see the orb, his hand still felt its cold embrace.
“Deli?” The drak scanned the area for his sister, but he observed only a stone obelisk in the distance and a pale figure standing before it. He ran toward the figure and realized that ropes bound it to the column.
As he drew closer, Kale noticed draconic carvings covered the obelisk. He could not read the words inscribed in an ancient Drak dialect, although he recognized a name: Rannos Dragonsire.
The bound woman stared toward the sky and didn’t seem distressed. Her alabaster skin and ivory gown stood out like a beacon against the dark stone to which she was bound. Blue and purple flowers blossomed at the base of the monolith.
Wind buffeted Kale as he approached the obelisk. The woman gave no indication she saw him. Her dark hair fluttered in the wind, and Kale heard the unmistakable sound of flapping wings.
A shadow passed over them. The woman looked skyward, eyes wide in wonder, and then she screamed. Kale turned to see a massive reptilian shape approaching. Brilliant green eyes glared from beneath a horned brow. Silver scales the size of breastplates covered the beast, and his wings blotted out the sun, covering the area in darkness. The ground trembled as he landed before the woman.
Kale fell to his knees as a wave of awe overcame him. His legs lacked the strength to support himself in the presence of the dragon’s majesty. The wyrm dwarfed even Terrakaptis, and as the dragon circled the obelisk, Kale noticed its smallest teeth were larger than he was.
A small part of the drak’s brain reasoned that, logically, he did not know this dragon; yet, in his heart, the creature somehow felt familiar.
The great dragon sniffed the woman, each breath pulling her hair toward him. The creature reached behind the obelisk and snapped the ropes that bound her. She stared at her loose bonds, brow furrowed in confusion. The dragon leapt up and took to the sky. Hesitating, the woman watched him fly away before she fled.
Kale followed her until she disappeared behind a hill. He noticed two additional figures in the distance regarding the sky and pointing. They marched toward the obelisk, and the drak realized they must have seen the events that occurred just moments earlier. As he drew closer to the distant figures, he saw that they were humans. Robed men.
“Hello?”
The humans paid him no mind. Their attention was fixed on the sky. Kale waved to them as he broke into a run. He spread his wings to increase his size, hoping the robed humans would see him.
A roar from behind caused Kale to skid to a stop. He turned and searched for the source. The huge dragon returned, swooping toward the cliff. It required all the drak’s effort to keep from once again falling on his knees before the creature’s raw magnificence. It was the most beautiful and terrible dragon he’d ever seen, and Kale’s very spirit felt drawn toward it. He wanted to bask in the dragon’s presence and power.
Twin rays shot from the hands of the humans toward the dragon, who twisted and spun, avoiding the attack. He then dove out of sight. Kale ran to the edge of the precipice, searching for him. The dragon looped around and gripped the edge of the cliff, each of his claws the size of buildings.
“The time of dragons is at an end!” One of the two men held loft a talisman. Another ray shot forth, striking the dragon in the chest while he still clung to the cliff.
The dragon inhaled deeply. Kale noticed a furious glow beneath its scales. The wyrm breathed a torrent of flame at the humans, scorching the ground before them in a whirlwind of fire. The second human braced against the flame as it reached them. Kale shielded himself from the conflagration, squinting to see through the smoke and flames.
When at last the dragon’s breath abated, the men stood unscathed. The creature roared in fury and launched itself backward, taking to the air again.
Kale studied the humans as they conferred, shaking their heads and pointing at the dragon as he circled. Both well-tanned and muscular, their robes and lack of armor exposed them as wizards, as if their use of the talisman and conjurations had not already betrayed them. One possessed a tangled nest of jet-black hair, and the other sported sandy-brown dreadlocks.
“Maelor! Kyffin!” The woman of alabaster skin raced toward the men. Kale leapt up and ran toward her, intent on keeping her away from the battle. She paid him no heed. When he stopped in front of her, the woman ran through him.
“Maelor! You must stop this. He released me. Kyffin!” She seized the arm of the dark-haired wizard. He spun on her and pushed her away. She stumbled and fell.
“Away with you, Bronwyn. You’ve served your purpose.”
The dreadlocked wizard pointed toward the dragon. “Maelor, he returns.”
“You cannot defeat a god. This is madness!” Bronwyn gathered up her gown and returned to her feet.
The wizard Maelor thrust his talisman toward the dragon and chanted. His language sounded harsh and guttural. Although Kale did not understand the words, he guessed their intent. He turned to watch the dragon.
Clouds gathered in the sky, blotting out the sun. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the drak noticed a wall of rain advancing on the coast from the sea. The dragon roared and stopped short, hovering instead of landing, flapping its wings and stirring up a maelstrom that buffeted the two wizards and Bronwyn. Kale shielded his eyes until he realized the debris passed through him, just as Bronwyn had.
The dragon jerked to the side as a bolt of lightning struck the ground before the men. Three more followed, each passing through the air where the dragon hovered just a moment before. He growled and snarled as he dodged the electric bolts.
“Your mortal magic is no use. Flee. Flee before me, and I shall have mercy.”
“Mercy like your kind showed my Siwan?” Kyffin slashed a wand through the air. Glowing blades spun from the tip. They sliced through the air, striking the dragon. Most bounced off his metallic scales, but one slashed through his wing membrane.
The creature roared in pain and landed, shaking the ground. The three humans clutched one another to remain upright.
“You see? You see, Bronwyn?” Maelor laughed. “He can be hurt.”
“Come with me, my love.” Bronwyn tugged at Maelor. “Stop this insanity. You cannot blame all dragons for the actions of one. Have you learned nothing?”
“I said away with you!” Maelor shoved Bronwyn. He spun on the dragon, unleashing another ray from his talisman. It, too, splashed harmlessly against the dragon’s scales.
“Your mate speaks with wisdom, Human.” The dragon slashed at the wizard. Maelor jumped to the side, diving to avoid evisceration.
“You are their father! A father is responsible for his children.” Kyffin spun his wand and moved it in
a downward slashing motion. The sky flashed as a dozen bolts of lightning struck the ground around them and formed a crackling shield around the two wizards.
A father? Kale glanced at Bronwyn as she crawled toward the shield. He returned his gaze to the dragon. Rannos Dragonsire!
The dragon reared and breathed again. The shield absorbed the dragonfire directed toward the wizards, but so great was the fire breath of Rannos that it covered the area beyond the shield, as well. Bronwyn shrieked and screamed as the flames engulfed her. The inferno incinerated the woman, silencing her shrieks of agony. When it ended, nothing remained to mark where the woman once stood.
Again, the wizards stood together, scowling and with burning rage in their eyes for the death of Bronwyn. They clasped hands as they chanted. Rannos leapt forward into the air and snarled. His forelegs bore down on the two wizards, but he bounced off the shield, crashing to the ground, and again shaking the foundation of the land.
Lightning arced down from the storm clouds whirling above, striking the great dragon’s back. He rolled on the ground as lightning struck again and again until he plummeted over the cliff. Thunder reverberated as Kale watched the dragon’s mighty wings catch an updraft, and he took once more to the sky.
Bright light shone through the clouds. At first, Kale thought the storm might dissipate, but the light grew bright and larger, as shooting stars plunged toward the earth. One of these stars struck Rannos, and the dragon roared in pain as he wheeled out of control. A second meteor continued on its downward trajectory until it crashed into the side of the cliff. Tremors from the impact shook the wizards off their feet.
Kale found himself staggering as the ground shook. The forces did not seem to affect him as violently as they did the humans. He glanced up to see more fiery objects pierce the cloud cover, streaking through the sky and striking Rannos. Some missed, crashing into the landscape and propelling fountains of earth and fire.
The drak ran toward the two men. He leapt toward them, kicking and screaming. His blows passed through them, and when his rage was spent, he collapsed, panting.
“He’s wounded, brother. Look!” Maelor helped Kyffin to his feet. Rannos soared overhead, flying in an erratic zigzag as the wizards continued to strike him with lightning and blazing meteors. The dragon circled again, lost altitude, and landed on the other side of a small hill.
Kyffin knelt near the spot where Bronwyn died. “Your wife—”
Maelor waved his hand. “I warned her. It’s you and me, brother. We will have justice against all these wyrms. Come! Rannos will fall today.” He beckoned for Kyffin to follow.
The two wizards ran toward the spot where Rannos landed. Kale closed his eyes and shook his head. “No, no. I don’t want to see this. I don’t want to be here.”
He felt himself pulled forward. The drak opened his eyes to see himself flying behind the wizard brothers. Whatever magic forced this vision upon him would not be denied.
Rannos hobbled, snarling at the wizards. He held his right foreleg tight against his flank, his shredded and tattered wings unable to provide sufficient lift for him to become airborne again. Maelor drew a glowing, multifaceted orb from his robes. He held it in front of him as the two brothers circled Rannos.
“You see this, wyrm? Do you know what this is?”
The dragon answered by delivering a gout of fire that swirled around the wizards as the orb drew it in. It pulsed with power it gained from absorbing the dragonfire.
“A heartstone.”
Kyffin flicked his wand, releasing another spinning blade toward Rannos. It sank deep into his flank, spraying blood across the field. Grass wilted and smoked at its touch. “We ventured deep into the earth to retrieve it. Deep into your mother? Mate?” The human laughed. “It’s so hard to keep track of you gods and your incestuous affairs.”
Rannos roared in fury. He spat and snarled, lunging forward and snapping his jaws around Maelor. The wizard screamed as one of Rannos’s fangs pierced his torso, ripping his body in half as the dragon jerked his head. Maelor’s legs collapsed in a heap before Kale.
The drak scrambled backward. Rannos spit, sending the rest of Maelor sailing toward Kyffin. He splattered on the ground, the heartstone tumbling from his bloody, outstretched hand.
“Defilers!” Rannos stomped on Maelor’s remains, sending Kyffin falling backward. “I will heal. He will not.”
Kyffin dove for the heartstone, rolling forward and clutching it before him as he regained his footing. He drew a ragged breath and pulled a faceted, ink-black stone from his robes.
Rannos’s eyes widened. He lunged at Kyffin again, but the wizard moved too quickly. He touched the two stones together just as the mighty dragon’s jaws closed around him.
Rannos’s head exploded in a shower of gore. The dragon’s body reared, then fell, his neck spewing fiery blood, scorching the countryside.
Kale covered his ears as the sound of a thousand earthquakes split the air. It was at once the crumbling of a mountain and the wail of a thousand grieving lovers. The ground shook and tore apart, falling away from the drak.
He flapped his wings to remain aloft but discovered doing so was not necessary. The same force that allowed him to view the events kept him fixed in place as the corpse of Rannos Dragonsire fell into the void. Kale saw no sign of the two wizards. As the world split, great clouds rushed to fill in the gaps, and a violent cacophony so great Kale felt it would crush him became his whole existence.
Fire and lightning danced around Kale. Covering his eyes, he screamed, to no avail. Even without seeing, he witnessed the destruction, and felt it all around him. He sensed it within his core and to the claws on his fingertips and toes.
Calliome sundered.
***
Using the top of her staff for light, Delilah crept through the university’s library. Even though it was deserted, she felt it appropriate to move as quietly as possible due to the late hour. A voice in the back of her mind reminded her as archmage, she could go anywhere she pleased on the university grounds and no one would challenge her.
Unsure of what she sought, she assumed the library contained books that described magical objects and decided to start her search with those. The stone she found within the deserted laboratory in her tower possessed traces of lingering arcane energies, but so far, Delilah’s experiments proved fruitless. Granted, her knowledge of divinations was limited, but even with Katka’s help, she learned nothing.
After a few hours of browsing, the archmage’s fatigue won, and she returned to her tower. Delilah locked the door to their suite and tiptoed past her sleeping apprentice. She put the stone on her nightstand and crawled into bed.
Sleep came easily to the archmage. She still felt the effects of her battle with Archmage Vilkan, although ministrations of the university’s healer mended her wounds faster than she expected. The next morning, she had a servant bring their morning meal to the tower. When they finished eating, Delilah and Katka parted ways.
“In between classes, if you would go to the library and try to find any information on magical stones like the one we found, that would be helpful.”
The human nodded as she adjusted her robes. “How long do you think the council meeting will last?”
“I’ve no idea, really. The high wizards do so love to talk”—Delilah flapped her hand in imitation of a mouth—“and talk and talk.”
Katka strode to the practice grounds for her lesson with Master Galina, and Delilah entered the Court of Wizardry. Seneschal Lyov bowed to her as she passed him and wished her a good morning. She reciprocated and steeled herself for the court. She saw only the Violet and Yellow Wizards in attendance.
“Where is everyone else?” She took her seat at the center of the dais.
“Busy.”
“Not every meeting is fully attended.”
It took only a few minutes for Delilah to discover why not some of the high wizards were in attendance—the wizards had no news and nothing interesting to discu
ss. The two high wizards present explained that many sessions of the court were formalities only, convened to uphold tradition.
Delilah adjourned the meeting and dismissed them. A page waited for her in the foyer as she left. Seneschal Lyov waved the young man over.
“All right, boy. The archmage is here. Speak!”
The boy stood only a head taller than Delilah. She figured him to be younger than Katka. “The archduke desires a meeting. As soon as possible, if you please.” He bowed before the archmage.
“I’ll head that way, then.” She glanced up at the old seneschal. “See to it my apprentice knows where I’ve gone.”
“Of course.” Seneschal Lyov bowed. He tossed a coin to the page, who caught it and ran off.
The drak archmage proceeded on foot to Grimstone Keep, stopping at a nearby tavern to purchase a meat-filled hand pie to eat as she traveled. Halfway there, with meat juices dripping down her chin and crumbs stuck to her chest, Delilah realized her mistake. She cleaned herself with some water from a public fountain to the stares of passersby who no doubt wondered why the new archmage splashed around in public.
The guards ushered Delilah directly to the keep’s sitting room where, before a crackling fire, Archduke Fyodar and Theros sat in high-backed chairs facing each other. Each held a snifter of amber liquid. A crystalline chandelier hung above their heads, and the whole room was finished in forest-green drapes and warm oiled-oak panels.
“Ah, Archmage, come in, come in!” Archduke Fyodar beckoned to Delilah and gestured for a guard to bring her a seat.
The drak-sized chair carried by the guard fit between the archduke and the minotaur. A servant offered her a drink as she sat. Delilah sniffed it and wrinkled her nose at the oaky scent.
Salvation (Scars of the Sundering Book 3) Page 14
