by Cindy Dees
As Kadir pointed his hotly glowing hands at the fire, Justin cried, “Don’t blast it all at once or you’ll explode the fire and send embers everywhere!”
Kadir half opened one eye in disgust, as if to say he knew better than to do such a thing. He began streaming the ritual fire magic into Justin’s campfire, and in seconds, a raging bonfire rose to the very top of the ritual dome. Spectacular ribbons of red, green, and purple threaded through the yellow, orange, and blue of the blaze.
“Step out of the circle, boy.”
Justin did as he was told, backing away from the flame until his face didn’t feel as if it were roasting. Using his pack for a seat, he sat down and leaned back against a boulder, enjoying the coldness of it against his back as the fire heated his front.
The ritual fire was a mesmerizing dance of flames and magic intertwined. The power of it rolled forth into the night, passing through him with unfamiliar vibrations. He had no training in the elemental magics, but after this display, he was tempted to learn how to control this wild magic.
Without warning, something cold and sharp touched his neck just under his chin. A rough voice behind him snarled, “Move and you die!”
“Kadir!” Justin rasped, stretching up and away from the knife at his neck. “We have company.”
Ensconced inside his blazing dome of fire, Kadir turned to face Justin and his would-be assassin. “Greetings, Lord of Ice. General Tarses, I presume?”
“Who are you? How dare you bring that magic into my place!”
“We are but a pair of wondering mages seeking audience with the Hand of Winter, who is said to rule these mountains,” Kadir answered. Of course that vibrating dome of ritual magic around Kadir gave lie to his description of himself as merely a wandering mage.
“For what purpose do you seek the Hand of Winter?”
His assailant moved far enough away from Justin that he was able to turn his head cautiously to look at his attacker. The man was dressed head to foot in pale armor that looked made of ice. Although, at the moment, firelight glinted off its surface, turning the suit the color of burning blood.
The man wearing the suit was large overall, his face mostly hidden in shadows, but Justin thought he glimpsed pale cheeks, maybe swirled with the elemental tamgas of a jann’s skin.
“Come now, General, let us not be coy with each other,” Kadir said briskly. “We have traveled a long and arduous path to bring you news of your family.”
The man’s blade, glittering clear and wet, like ice, came up swiftly. “Now I know you lie.” He made a blindingly fast lunge toward the circle.
Kadir never moved. Never changed expression. He merely stared calmly at the man encased in ice. For his part, the warrior stopped just shy of the burning circle, glaring fiercely at the mage seated inside.
It was a long standoff, punctuated only by the occasional snap or crack from the fire. Justin held his breath, not daring to move a muscle, lest the man in ice cut him down where he stood.
Eventually, the man pushed up his visor, revealing the strong, handsome face of a jann in his prime. “Who are you?” he demanded.
“My name is Kadir.”
“Have we met?” the warrior asked suddenly.
“Once. When you came to visit the Mages of Alchizzadon, an order to which I and my apprentice, Justin, once belonged.”
“Belonged, past tense?”
“Correct. I have parted ways with my order over a minor disagreement.”
Justin frowned. Was that all Raina was to him? A minor disagreement over whether or not a young woman should die permanently in the name of the order’s research program?
“What do you know of the general’s family?” the man demanded, still refusing to identify himself.
Kadir shrugged. “When the general introduces himself to us, we will be happy to speak with him directly. Until then, however, I’m sure he would prefer that we keep our information to ourselves. His family is a matter most personal to him, I’d wager.”
The warrior glared at Kadir for several seconds and then unaccountably burst into laughter. “Well played, sir.” He sheathed his sword, backed away from the ritual circle, and sat down on a likely boulder. “You can hide in your circle if you like, or you can extinguish the beacon. I have come, and you know full well who I am.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you again, General,” Kadir said as the ritual circle faded from view and only a campfire remained, burning cheerfully under the night sky, which was navy blue on its way to black.
Justin stared surreptitiously. That was General Tarses in the flesh? The great conqueror of continents? Personal friend of the Emperor himself? It was hard to imagine that he, a kid from tiny Tyrel, was sitting with someone so important.
“If you have information about my family, speak,” Tarses ordered tersely.
“Your children live.”
“What?” Tarses leaped to his feet, clearly shocked by the news. “Where? How do you know this?”
“Someone I trust implicitly asked me to pass the message to you.”
“What can you tell me of them?”
“I believe your son travels with my source. He seeks to wake an ancient Haelan king and foment rebellion against the Kothite Empire,” Kadir answered bluntly.
“Excellent.” A fierce smile broke across Tarses’s face. He paced back and forth, and as he did so, his expression and tone changed. “Maximillian has overstayed his time on the throne. He needs to go.”
Justin was shocked to the core of his being, not only at hearing treason spoken so openly but also with the venom in the general’s voice.
Tarses growled, “After all I did for him, the whoreson stripped me of everything. My name, my reputation, my achievements, my honor.”
He dared to call Emperor Maximillian such a thing? For a second, Justin wondered wildly if lightning would reach down out of the clear sky and strike them for it.
“As if that was not enough, his lackey killed my wife and children,” Tarses’s voice rose in anger, “but now you say my children live. I was denied knowing them as they grew, prevented from shaping them into adults, deprived of their love and they deprived of mine—” He broke off, practically shouting.
Tarses breathed hard for several long moments, visibly fighting to calm himself. The ice tamgas on his face actually seemed to be moving across his skin, reflecting his agitation. Then he spoke so coldly Justin physically shivered at the words. “Oh yes. My Emperor has a great deal to answer for. And I shall see to it he does.”
“Excellent!” Kadir said brightly. “I was hoping you would feel that way.”
The cheerful tone seemed to startle Tarses, whose gaze narrowed suspiciously. “What do you want from me?”
“I want nothing from you. Although I would like you to help your son.”
“Why?”
“Because your son is helping my daughter. And I would very much like to see her live.”
Justin stared, well and truly dumbfounded. Kadir could only be speaking of Raina. He was Raina’s father? That certainly explained a lot. Like why he’d let Raina get away when she’d run away from home two years ago. And why he’d rescued her from Elfonse and his cronies when they’d tried to kill her. Why Kadir had recruited Justin and asked him to find Raina and look out for her. Indeed, that explained a great deal.
Tarses was nodding slowly, and Kadir was nodding back, their stares locked in mutual understanding. They were two fathers in agreement that their children would be protected to the limits of both of their considerable abilities. Justin rather pitied whoever got in the way of these two.
“Where’s my boy now?”
“My daughter is marked with a scrying rune. The last time I checked, which was yesterday, she was in the Thirst, headed toward Kahfes. I can only assume that your son is with her or plans to rendezvous with her there.”
The Thirst was months away from here on foot. Justin mentally groaned at the march that lay ahead of them.
“I
cannot bring us directly into Kahfes, but I have access to a gate that can get us close,” Kadir declared.
“Close is good enough,” Tarses declared.
“When do you wish to leave, General?” Kadir asked.
“I’ll summon my warriors. We leave now.”
* * *
Marikeen listened closely as her superiors received the report from Anton Constantine’s messenger.
“—governor’s spies report that the same party was seen passing from the Valelands into the Thirst on the night of the new moon, headed toward Kahfes.”
That was two days ago. How did Anton send messages hundreds of leagues so quickly? She’d heard of a man who was experimenting with training birds to fly long distances at incredible speeds, carrying messages tied around their legs—
“Marikeen!”
She started and looked up the table at Richard Layheart, leader of the Cabal.
“I need you to go with Anton. Help him find your brother and his companions. Discover what they are tracking, and ensure they don’t make off with it. Anton is right. It’s high time everyone realizes we are the preeminent clearinghouse for magic in Haelos. Henceforth, nothing magical shall be discovered or harvested or mined but that it does not pass to us first.”
Anton was a pompous, arrogant thug who thought that enough gold could gloss over his complete lack of civility or nobility. He’d killed the only father she’d ever known, and one day she would kill him. But for now, she would bide her time, smile politely, and make nice with the thug.
“Of course, Richard. It would be my honor to do this service for the Cabal,” she answered smoothly. “When do you wish me to leave?”
“As soon as you have gathered what supplies you need for the journey.”
“It could take us weeks or even months to find them—”
He cut her off. “I have a magic item that will open a gate to Kahfes. I think the current crisis warrants its use.” He added slyly, “And I’ll charge Anton for its replacement cost.”
The old adage was true. There really was no honor among thieves.
* * *
Eben woke up feeling energized and strong, ready to conquer the world. No matter that the journey across the Silver Sands toward Kahfes, in the heart of the Thirst, was nightmarish at best. Ever since he’d come into possession of Eliassan’s bow, he’d felt amazingly hale and whole.
The others crawled out of their bedrolls, groaning over sore muscles, cracked lips, headaches, and the general misery of desert travel. Small wind and fire elementals had plagued their journey, rising up out of the sand without warning and attacking viciously. The good news was that Eben was starting to sense the presence of elementals before they manifested. He could only give his friends a few seconds’ warning, but that was enough for weapons to be at the ready and defensive positions assumed.
They sat in a circle to break their fast, which was actually supper, and he wolfed down his rations as usual. He asked Sha’Li, who was still eating daintily, “How are you holding up? These Silver Sands aren’t messing with your mind?”
Her brow scales lifted and came together in a point over her nose in what he knew to be a frown of mild irritation. “I’m not a changeling. The Silver Sands don’t affect me.”
He leaned back, propped up on one elbow to stare at her. “What do you mean, you’re not a changeling?”
“Are you an elemental?” she shot back.
“No. Jann have an affinity for the elements, but we’re not elementals.”
“Just so,” she declared as if that explained everything.
“But you’re part reptile, part human. Doesn’t that make you a changeling?”
Sha’Li was on top of him so fast he hardly saw her coming. She tackled him, rolling him onto his back and straddling his chest with her surprisingly powerful legs, pinning him down, hands around his throat. “I’m. Not. Reptile.”
Thankfully, she wasn’t squeezing his neck too hard nor were her long, sharp claws extended. “Then what are you?”
Up close, her eyes weren’t truly black. Dark green and flecks of gold were visible around the edges of her vertical black irises. He reached up to grab her forearms and attempted to peel them away from his throat. He couldn’t break her hold without exerting enough force that he might hurt her. Her scaled skin was softer than he’d expected, warm and pliable, not hard or armorlike.
As she leaned over him, an amulet he’d never seen before spilled out of her shirt and dangled between them, hanging from a finely made chain. At a distance of about six inches, he got a good look at it. The piece was made of what looked like nullstone, but instead of carvings upon it, a sinuous line had been cut all the way through the face of the stone. He could look through a slit and see Sha’Li’s shirt behind the piece. The amulet looked old, and even he could sense power emanating from it.
She stared down at him until he felt obliged to tease a response out of her. “Don’t know what you are, huh?”
“I know. I’m just considering whether or not you deserve to know.”
“Aw, c’mon, Sha’Li. We’ve been friends forever. I’d never do anything to hurt you.” He thrashed from side to side playfully, trying to dislodge her from his chest.
“You already have hurt me.”
He stilled abruptly beneath her. “How?”
“By believing that I could or would betray you. I know how much Kerryl hurt you. But I could not let you do a wrong thing you would have regretted later. I was trying to protect you.”
That night she’d stopped his blade from slitting Kerryl’s throat had loomed between them ever since it happened. He’d been so angry at the time he’d been ready to kill her, too.
“Kerryl hurt my brother. And I protect my own.”
“I respect your code of honor. It’s simple and direct. I like that.”
She did? In a rare moment of subtlety, he wondered if it meant that she liked him, too.
“I wish life was always so simple as yours, Eben. But sometimes the choices we must make are not good or bad, black or white. Sometimes they lie in the gray.”
“That’s deep. Even for you.”
She let go of his neck and gave his shoulder a playful swat. She remained seated on his chest, however. Apparently, she wasn’t done having her say with him yet. “Look, Eben. I’m sorry I interfered between you and Kerryl. Well, I’m not sorry I interfered, but I’m sorry I interfered.”
He grinned at her garbled words, but he got the point. She was not sorry she’d stopped him from killing Kerryl, but she was sorry she’d angered him. His grin earned him another harder swat on the shoulder.
“Ow!” She was nearly as strong as he was. Not that he was complaining. He’d always been afraid of human girls who seemed so fragile and breakable. He’d never been comfortable around them.
He stared up at her, and she stared back down at him, awareness of each other dawning between them. They’d been friends for two years. But was there more to it than that? Shock poured over him. She loved water. He hated it. She preferred to sneak around in the shadows. He charged straight ahead. He was jann. She was … not.
“You never did answer my question, Sha’Li. What are you? I genuinely want to know.”
“Are you familiar with how ogre-kin are descended from ogres or troll-kin are descended from trolls? They’re not mixed-breed ogre-humans; rather, they’re a new race that evolved from the original race.”
He nodded. “Like the Boki. Neither orc nor human, but something else.”
“Lizardmen are like that.”
“What … who … do you descend from?” But even as he asked the question, he realized he knew the answer.
“Dragons.”
She was dragon-kin. Suddenly, she seemed a great deal less reptilian and looked a great deal more like her legendary ancestors. “Why are you called lizardmen, then?”
She shrugged. “It’s not what we call ourselves. It is an insult thrown at us by pinkskins.”
“I’
m sorry.”
“For what? For thinking I was part lizard?”
“No. For being mad at you when you stopped me from killing Kerryl. You did the right thing. It just made me angry that you pointed out my loss of control by stopping me. I was embarrassed by my behavior.”
“None of us are perfect, Eben. We can only do our best and hope that, in the end, we make a small difference for good.”
“There be wisdom in the dragon girl.”
Her eyes opened wide in surprise, showing bright whites against her ebony scales for a moment. Another hard swat on his shoulder. “Quit teasing me!”
“I’m not teasing,” he replied quietly.
Another long, intense look between them.
And then she jumped up abruptly, holding a hand down to him to help him to his feet. Their palms met, strong fingers clasping, and his breath caught. If he was not mistaken, hers did the same. A quick yank, he was upright, and then she spun away, moving with quick grace before he could say or do anything more.
Well, then. A dragon-kin, huh? His mind filled with that, he followed the others as they set off toward Kahfes and a storm gathered in the west.
CHAPTER
28
Raina pushed back her hood and stared up in wonder at the stone form of a woman warrior holding up the soaring roof of the great cavern of Nhem with her carved hands. The magnificent statue was one of the four great caryatids—pillars carved to look like women—that supported the enormous underground structure.
“Her name is Ghali,” Lakanos murmured.
“How can something so beautiful be so strong?” Raina asked.
Cicero answered, “They say no miner has ever been able to even scratch the surface of one of the caryatids of Kahfes. It’s illegal to mess with them, but kids try all the time to climb them or chip off a piece as a souvenir. None have succeeded.”
The cave of Nhem opened onto the desert, spilling golden light into the night, but the space was so large that before they’d barely ventured into the city within, Raina had lost sight of the outside completely.
