Amáne of Teravinea - The Prophecy (The Teravinea Series Book 2)

by D. Maria Trimble

  “You need to open your gift, Healer,” I said as they ushered me along. I touched the satchel that hung at my back — the egg safely tucked inside.

  “Let’s take care of your arm first, then you can have your soak. We’ll all enjoy your prize afterwards ... and after that, you need to rest. I am eager to see it, of course, but now that it’s here safely, it’s not going anywhere. It can wait.”

  A hot soak and rest. I could think of nothing sweeter — except Ansel’s kisses. I realized I had missed two night’s sleep. How I could even remain upright was a question I couldn’t answer. When I was finally ready to succumb, I knew I would fall into bed like a stone.

  Entering my chambers, I breathed a sigh of relief. The day’s new light was shining through the skylights above, and the room was bright and inviting. It seemed like I’d been gone for much longer than five days, but here I was back again, delighted with my surroundings. I sang a silent song of thanksgiving. Eshshah and I were home. Our quest was successful. And ... Ansel still loved me. Life could get no better.

  I lowered myself into a chair at my table. Ansel pulled up another one close to me and rested his hand on my shoulder. A ripple of warmth spread through my body at his touch.

  The Healer placed a hot cloth on my arm. The scent of healing herbs rose as I began to relax. Eshshah breathed her warm healing breath, soothing the pain instantly. I felt the infection withdraw. The heat increased with their treatment. My arm improved noticeably. I exhaled a long sigh.

  With my free hand, I pulled the satchel over my head. A jolt brought my attention to the egg. Did I knock it on the table, trying to take it off with one hand?

  “Did you feel that?” asked Eshshah.

  “Eshshah, the egg!” I said out loud.

  There was no doubt that it had moved, a small quiver, nothing more, but something had happened. The egg gave off an unmistakable heat — a slight vibration grew.

  The Healer and Gallen knew immediately, but Ansel stiffened in alarm, not knowing what to make of our concern.

  “Is everything all right? Is the dragon egg broken?”

  “Quickly, Amáne, unwrap it and set it on your bed,” said the Healer

  I did as instructed. When I turned back to explain to Ansel, his eyes were drawn to the egg in a glassy stare.

  Eshshah, the Healer, Gallen and I divided our attention between the egg and Ansel. Its vibrations increased — it began to hum. Ansel walked toward it like one who walks in his sleep, unaware of anything in the room, other than the object that pulled him in. He made his way up onto the bed and kneeled before the dragon egg. Sitting back on his heels, his hands reached toward it. Watching him place his palms upon the vibrating ovoid, I was entranced with the glow upon his face. I wondered if I had looked like that when Eshshah began her hatching ritual.

  The egg hummed louder. Eshshah hummed with it. The Healer and Gallen held hands and watched enraptured. I guessed that they, like myself, were reliving their linkings. I melded with Eshshah as we observed the incredible event.

  The humming rose to a feverish pitch, and suddenly a crack appeared in the shell. My heart stopped. I stood frozen, lest I interrupt the wonder before me. Tears came to my eyes as I watched a tiny dragon nose emerge from the crack. At last the dragon broke free and toppled out, landing at Ansel’s knees.

  It was about the size of a full-grown cat. A beautiful golden creature, shining wet from the moisture in its egg. Small graceful legs held up his short body which tapered to a long tail that ended in a sharp barb. Horns protruded from the top of his perfectly-shaped head on a long graceful neck — a miniature version of Eshshah. If I hadn’t known my dragon, I would have said it was the most exquisite being I’d ever seen. His scales shone with luminescence. He glowed in his own light. Immediately, he locked eyes with Ansel whose face lit with the reflections of the light bouncing off of his little dragon. I found it difficult to decide who was the most magnificent of the two.

  The little one swayed. His golden eyes spun — Ansel followed his every move. Suddenly, the dragon blinked. Ansel looked confused — shocked. Knowing what was coming next, I pressed my lips together and put my hand to my mouth so I wouldn’t scream. I wished I could have protected Ansel from the pain and agony that was about to come, but I couldn’t — it was part of the process and he must endure it.

  The radiant dragon pulled his head back and quicker than lightning, he struck. His fangs buried deep into Ansel’s shoulder. The force threw Ansel back on the bed. He shouted in pain. His eyes went wide and his face almost purple. The Healer put her hand on my shoulder and held me back. With her touch, I managed to remain where I stood, watching Ansel burn in agony as the venom traveled through his body. I vaguely remembered this part in my own experience.

  The Healer kept an eye on his condition, but did not assist him. Her job was only to keep Ansel alive, and nothing more at this time. His dragon walked toward Ansel’s face, and watched him as he writhed. I marveled at the love and concern I saw glowing in his eyes as he gazed at his Chosen One. He placed his nose on Ansel’s forehead and hummed in an effort to help him. I clenched my teeth and squeezed my fists as Ansel’s body stiffened, arched in convulsions — and then, thankfully, he lost consciousness. The little creature looked at each of us, distressed for his rider. He let out a low whine then curled up on Ansel’s chest and closed his eyes to wait.

  My heart pounded. My breath came in sharp gasps. The Healer motioned to Gallen. He came over to me and led me out of the room. At first I resisted — I wanted to stay with Ansel. But then I gave in, suddenly overcome with fatigue.

  Gallen led me to the bathing room. “Healer’s orders, Amáne. Take a long hot soak. Lord Ansel will be fine. It was a good linking. There’s nothing you can do for him now. You need to get some rest and then you can take a turn to watch over him. Now, go.” He opened the door and gently pushed me in.

  Hardly lucid after my hot soak, I headed back to my chambers. Grabbing some blankets I drug myself into my room. With my eyes half lidded, I noted that Ansel lay in good hands — the Healer watching over him.

  “Please wake me, Healer, when it’s my turn to sit with him,” I mumbled. Then I staggered over to Eshshah, who slept in her indent on the stone floor. I threw the blankets down, crawled under the covers, and succumbed to exhaustion.

  My rest was fraught with nightmares — lizards, dungeons, evil kings — all made up from my recent reality, which was ... a nightmare. Avano and my father wove in and out in confusion as I thrashed and tangled myself in my bedding.

  At last, my dark dreams took an uncharacteristic turn toward the light. Ansel had wandered into my torment and in a daring rescue, lifted me from a dark hole in which I’d been trapped. He carried me in his strong arms and gently placed me on a bed of soft flowers in a bright field, then kissed my forehead. It felt so real. Finally, I fell into a comforting sleep.

  Still dreaming, I found myself gazing at Ansel as he pushed my hair out of my face, smiling at me. I smiled back and reached out to touch him. My movement must have awoken me. My eyes snapped open.

  Where am I? Momentarily disoriented, I tensed as my recent peril came back to me. Eshshah touched my consciousness. She slumbered outside sunning herself in the courtyard. I was in my own bed — two sets of eyes stared at me.

  Ansel reclined in front of me on my bed — elbow bent with his head propped in his hand. The little golden dragon, who had doubled in size since his hatching, looked over Ansel’s shoulder. Their gazes locked upon me.

  “We didn’t mean to wake you,” Ansel said. “Your hair fell forward and we couldn’t see your face anymore. I had to push it back.”

  “You have a bad habit of watching me sleep,” I murmured, recalling the Dorsal Outpost after his rescue.

  “It’s one of my favorite pastimes.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “How’s your arm?” he asked.

  I flexed my wrist and winced slightly. “A couple more treatments from Eshshah, and I’
ll be ready to test that venom running in your veins. We’ll see if it’s improved your swordwork. Deal?”

  “Deal.” He gave me a smile that lit up the room.

  Then, remembering my manners, I propped myself up on my elbow and saluted them both. It was a sideways, half-awake salute. A little stiff with my sore wrist, but they both nodded in response. “Permission to speak to your dragon.”

  “Granted. Any time. No need to ask.” Ansel nodded in my direction. “Amáne, rider of Eshshah, this is Sovann. Sovann, meet Amáne.”

  “Greetings, Sovann, dragon of gold, you shine more brightly than the sun.” He dipped his head, his eyes whirled, pleased at my compliment. I found myself instantly in love with him.

  Ansel laughed responding to something Sovann conveyed. “Yes, you’re right. She is, I agree wholeheartedly.”

  I grinned, noticing that he spoke to his dragon out loud. He realized it at that moment as well, and said, “I guess I’m going to have to practice thought transference before I get myself into trouble.”

  “I highly recommend it. But by the look on your face, I’d say you’re already in trouble. What did he say?” Mock suspicion in my voice.

  “He thinks you’re beautiful.”

  “Hmm, yes, the worst kind of trouble.” I blushed.

  “Ansel, wow ... you’re a dragon rider ...” I shook my head at how unbelievable, yet fantastic was this turn of events.

  With a smug twist of his mouth, Ansel asked, “So, tell me, Amáne how do you feel now about the fact that you won’t have to watch me grow old while you stay young?”

  I let out an exasperated sigh. Dragon riders do not age the same as normal humans. It had been an excuse I gave him so long ago for why I couldn’t give my heart to him. I told him I couldn’t bear to see him grow old and meet his ancestors while I stayed young. It was a weak excuse. We’d come a long way since I’d made that statement.

  “I think I’ll have to come up with another excuse — or not.”

  “I think you’re completely out of excuses.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  His dragon hummed. I wondered what Ansel said to him.

  “I can’t believe your dragon fever is over after just a few hours,” I said. Noting the light in the room, it looked to be just around noon, and we had flown in at dawn.

  “Twenty-four hours could hardly be considered ‘just a few hours’ when I’m writhing in pain and agony,” he said.

  Shock flashed through me. “Twenty-four hours? I’ve been asleep that long? Why didn’t someone wake me? I was supposed to take a turn sitting with you.” I exhaled in remorse.

  “It’s fine, Amáne, truly. The Healer and Gallen took turns. You needed to rest.”

  My eyebrows knit. “I thought I fell asleep on the floor with Eshshah. How did I get here, in my bed?”

  “You were thrashing on the floor — nightmares again?”

  I nodded. He shook his head, in sympathy.

  “Since I was up and about, the Healer allowed me to put you into your bed where you belonged. I think it helped. You relaxed and got in a couple more hours sleep.”

  I felt the heat rise in my face. It wasn’t just a dream, then.

  “It was my fault you were forced to sleep on the floor. It was the least I could do.”

  “Ansel, you had no control over that. Besides, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor. Unless, of course, it’s in a filthy dungeon cell. The difference between that and sleeping in Eshshah’s bed is like moon and sun. You, of all people can attest to that.”

  A shadow crossed his face. His eyes filled with pain. Sovann moaned in response.

  “Ansel, I’m sorry for bringing that up.”

  In the most heart-wrenching tone, “No, Amáne — I’m sorry.”

  We lay propped on our elbows facing each other. He reached his free hand out to me, palm out. I pressed my palm in his. We intertwined our fingers and squeezed tight. For several moments we remained in that position, each feeling the other’s pain. I guessed that his distress was not only about his painful experience in the dungeon, but more than that.

  Ansel and I shared a bond, that no matter what happened, it would never break. We were linked to each other as surely as we were linked to our dragons. I could feel the anguish of the contradictions burning in his eyes. I knew he regretted sending us on our quest, yet if he had not, he would not now be linked to Sovann.

  “Because of me, your life has been endangered ... twice. It was my fault you had to return to the castle,” he said with a tremor in his voice.

  “Ansel,” I whispered, “it’s over. We’re home. We’re safe. You have Sovann. Let’s concentrate on that. What I went through is all behind us, now.”

  “Don’t speak so lightly of it, Amáne. I’m fully aware of what you went through to bring back Sovann’s egg.”

  “What do you mean?” My eyes went wide. “Did the Healer tell you everything?”

  “No, I was here. I arrived the day you entered the Hatching Grounds.”

  I groaned.

  “I followed you the whole time, through Eshshah and Bern — on the communication disc with the Healer and Gallen.”

  I couldn’t breathe. The thought of Ansel here suffering through my ordeal pulled at my heart.

  “Ansel, it was my duty. I did it willingly. Eshshah and I would do whatever it takes to help win your throne. Mark our quest as a victory. Hold tight to our hope of several more victories, until we’re no longer in danger. Just so you know — it’s more than duty. We do it for love. Just as you would do it for us.”

  He leaned in toward me. We were only inches apart. I felt the heat of his breath on my face. My heart accelerated.

  His eyes settled on my lips. He seemed to struggle with some internal argument. Biting his lip, he moved back, brows furrowed. My hand still in his, he brought it to his lips, then set it gently on the bed. His finger traced my cheek as he gazed deeply in my eyes.

  “It’s best I leave you to your rest. The Healer’s probably just about ready to send Gallen in here to drag me out.”

  Ansel rolled off my bed. With a longing glance over his shoulder, he strolled out of the room, Sovann trailing behind.

  After Ansel left my chambers, there wasn’t any rest left in me. The abundance of sleep left me feeling refreshed, and my heart still beat wildly. I crawled out of bed and threw on some tights and a long shirt. I wrapped a belt around me and padded to the kitchen where I found Ansel sitting at the table picking at some smoked fish.

  Eshshah informed me the Healer had left the house to make her rounds. Gallen minded the apothecary shop. She and Sovann lay in the courtyard soaking the sun.

  I slid onto the bench next to Ansel. “I can’t believe I didn’t ask you earlier, Ansel, but may I see your linking mark?”

  He untied the neckline of his shirt and let it fall over his shoulder. I’d never seen his bare chest and shoulders before. Taken aback at his muscular build, my eyes widened. He caught my reaction. As my face reddened, his mouth curved up in a crooked smile. I hoped maybe he mistook my expression as a response to his linking mark and not his body. I think I hoped in vain.

  Recovering my composure, I studied the tattoo-like design that Sovann had left as a permanent reminder that they were forever linked. It was beautiful. So different than mine, yet similar. I studied the stylized likeness of his dragon with swirls and symbols, including a crown. All incorporated into a perfect device.

  “I’ve been doing a little research of my own on linking marks. I know how interested you are in them, so I tried to learn more. Did you ever think you would have one of your own?” It allowed us one more thing to share with each other.

  “Never in my wildest dreams. Well, I take that back. When I was a young boy, I used to wish to be a candidate at a Hatching, and couldn’t wait until I was old enough. But of course, my foster parents or my aunt would never have let me near the castle, so I stopped dreaming.”

  “You should never have stopped drea
ming.”

  I moved closer to examine the fascinating mark. I became very aware of the heat that radiated from his body. Captivated by the elements in the design, I barely managed to ignore his warmth.

  “Oh, I think I’ve found your name, right here.” Tracing the area, I tried to sound it out. “Protector? I didn’t know that’s what your name meant.” His muscles tensed slightly as I moved my finger over the tattoo.

  I was thoroughly absorbed in the intricate pattern. This was better than the drawings in the books, and an entirely different angle than trying to study mine. Even though I lived with two dragon riders, I’d only seen the Healer’s linking mark once. Gallen’s, I had seen a few times when he had his shirt off working around the property, but I never wanted to bother him about it. Nor did I want to stir up any grief for him. This was the first time I had such a perfect view of a linking mark.

  “I should copy this on to parchment and have you and the Healer explain the symbols I don’t understand. This part right here,” I spoke — more or less to myself — as I followed the lines, tracing lightly with my finger. “... that flows so perfectly into this section over here, I —”

  In a lightning move he clamped his hand over mine. The action abruptly brought me back into the room. I looked up in surprise and found his eyes smoldering.

  “Amáne,” he said in a low whisper, “you’re driving me crazy.”

  “I’m sorry, Ansel, I didn’t mean to annoy you.”

  “I didn’t say you were annoying me, I said you were driving me crazy.”

  “Oh ... I ... uh ...” I tried to remove my hand, but he held it tightly to his arm. His heart beat loudly, competing with the sound of mine. He brought his free hand behind my neck and ran his fingers through my hair. Drawing my face toward his, he brought his mouth to mine. Time stood still as I melted into the fire of his kiss.

  Reluctantly pulling back, he studied my face, beginning at my forehead, then moving to my eyes, my nose, my lips.