Talismans

by Lisa Lowell

  Chapter 6 – The Lady and the Palace

  As he conjured a fire and a tent Owailion watched the ships lost in the sunset beyond Mohan who had draped himself across the plain, watching the human's actions with fascination. Subtlety the human tried blocking out Mohan's obvious ability to read his thoughts, wanting some privacy. Did he have the power to block out his mentor?

  “What is wrong?” the dragon asked. “You are not open to me?”

  Owailion started in surprise. “It worked? I can shield you out? I didn't know if it would work. Yes, I suppose I am. Sometimes I just want to think a bit and not be judged by anyone,” he admitted.

  Mohan almost purred*. “I would never judge you. Humans are too hard to understand. What were you thinking that you would be ashamed to share with me?*”

  Owailion shrugged restlessly before he answered. “So much for shields. I was thinking about that king, wanting to get into the Land because it is sealed, and about the rune stones. We've not come any closer to knowing where they've been taken. And I was thinking about being alone.”

  Mohan's head shot up. “You are not alone.”

  “Yes, I know but…”

  “No,” Mohan interrupted. “We are not alone. Someone is listening in on us.”

  Owailion wheeled around, looking beyond the firelight, searching the horizon across the plains and then out to sea. He could just make out a distant light on a ship out to sea, far beyond the Seal.

  “Not there, down on the coastline,” Mohan's mental voice whispered. “Can you hear it? That is a demon start. It is not demon yet, but something down on the beach is trying to turn. Magic has combined with nature and is trying to become something evil.”

  Owailion crouched down and crawled over to the west. A hundred foot fall-off plunged below him onto a relatively narrow beach and then out to sea. On his belly Owailion eased his head over the edge, hoping it would not be visible. Mohan did not move but instead advised.

  “Keep your shields up or the creature will know you are there. Instead, follow my thoughts. I will guide you and show you what to do.” With that Mohan's mind voice took on an echoing quality, like Owailion was hearing him from a distance. The human strained to latch onto the dragon's thoughts but then felt himself pulled along on a tide of magic toward the cliff and over the edge. Owailion could sense a tang like metal struck by lightning. “That scent is magic going wild. Watch for it and strike before it turns demon,” Mohan instructed.

  A dragon could not crawl like a human but Owailion sensed his mentor tried to do it, peeking his head over to the cliff's edge. “Now, we might not be able to see, but I smell the nexus of magical power. It is combining with…a crab? There is a crab down there that is going to become a demon if we let it. This is what you must do.”

  Owailion could see no crabs and barely the lighter sheen of the beach above the waves but he sensed that Mohan was aware of it. Something clicking and beady-eyed snapped in his mind. Then a blast of flame shot unexpectedly out of Mohan's gullet and down onto the invisible crab below. Owailion was blinded, startled and gasping but he got himself in check and listened in again to Mohan's thoughts. When the dragon cut off the flame Owailion recognized that the strange tang of electrified metal had disappeared. The demon was gone.

  “No, it was not demon yet. Remember the smell at Zema? It was different. You cannot kill demons; just make it move on, back to the Other place. And that is how you stop a demon from forming,” Mohan announced proudly and pulled back from the cliff to resume watching Owailion.

  “I could barely sense it and you knew where it was without even being able to see it,” Owailion said in trepidation.

  “That takes time and training,” Mohan assured him. “It is something you must practice before the Sleep.”

  Then, for the first time since Owailion had awakened in the Land he sensed Mohan was also blocking something, building a shield around the dragon's thoughts. The huge creature was thinking privately, hiding his concern behind a great stony wall of magic that left the warmth of the dragon's presence distant and almost cold.

  “What is it? You're…you are…blocking me too. Why?”

  Mohan sighed, warming the air with his breath, which was welcome, for the night had grown chill. “I am….worried for you. It is my calling to make you content and to prepare you for when we dragons have gone to Sleep. I cannot leave you lonely. We dragons are content to be solitary, but not humans. How can I ease that for you, especially if I am not here to be your friend?”

  Owailion could not bring himself to even think of the fear that brought to his soul. Mohan might teach him how to defeat sorcerers and to torch demon formation but nothing could make it easy to be alone. Owailion took a breath and then looked down. He could not and would not think about it. Instead he changed the subject.

  “I will deal with that in time,” Owailion murmured. “Meanwhile, teach me how to do that wall around your thoughts.”

  * * *

  The next day as they flew south along the beautiful coastline, watching for ships Owailion abruptly asked Mohan to land. “There's something here,” he announced, surprised that he had sensed it and the dragon had not.

  Owailion slid down Mohan's back before the dragon properly folded his wings down and the human began searching this new patch of ground. “Just back there, I felt …feel something. It is a strange kind of itch. It is magic, but I don't know enough about it yet to give it a name,”

  Mohan seemed to ignore the implied question but then turned back from the sea to speak with Owailion. “Let us investigate your itch, as you call it.”

  “Can you feel that?”

  “I feel nothing…of myself. I can feel what you are feeling though. You call this an itch?”

  Owailion felt his palms tickling and rubbed them against his thighs but he could not ease the discomfort. “It's exactly an itch. It feels like I'm about to sneeze but it won't come or as if someone is lurking behind me and I cannot see him. I just know I am supposed to do something here.”

  “Dragons call it a compulsion. You have not felt this before? It is a signal that there is something here for you to do. Your action is required. You must do magic here or it will 'itch' until you act. That is how we find demons, sorcerers, and even our mates. God guides us to what we need to find.”

  Owailion froze in the act of sliding down Mohan's shoulder. “Wait a minute, God arranges your matings? You don't fall in love?”

  “Love?” Mohan asked, with the same curiosity he had applied to clothes and maps. Obviously the concept eluded him.

  Owailion slid down to the ground, walked to the edge of the cliff and sat down abruptly with his legs over the lip. He could not explain the concept so instead he asked, “God gives you this itch?”

  Mohan almost managed a human shrug. “Yes, at least that is how He does with a dragon. I do not know if this itch is how you will find your mate and I presume she will be another Wise One. If you are not meant to be alone she will come and you will help her the way I am helping you.”

  “And how will another come here if the Land is sealed?” For some strange reason Owailion didn't feel alarmed by the prospect of having a magical itch guiding him to other humans, especially of the female persuasion, but he didn't think he would fall in love with her instantly. He doubted a compulsion could drive him to it.

  Mohan must have been listening in on his thoughts, for he commented. “You think that now, but the compulsion you are feeling now is not a strong one. It is asking you to do something and then it will fade,” Mohan warned. “I do not know what you will feel when you meet your future mate, but it is far more powerful than this that has stopped us here.”

  Owailion laughed at the thought, but he knew that for whistling in the dark. He wanted rid of the itch he sensed. “So, what am I supposed to do in this particular spot that magic is making such demands of me?” he asked to change the subject.

  Mohan tried to shrug, imitating his human's mannerisms. “I do not know. It
must be a human thing, for I do not sense this magic unless I am listening to your soul. If a dragon was meant to do this act, I would feel it instead. Do you see something or imagine something here?”

  Owailion sighed. “No, I feel only the itch. Do you always know what your promptings are asking you to do magically?”

  “Rarely do I know the full purpose of the compulsion. For example, I knew the Land would be hosting a human when I was given the prompting to bring a volcano – Jonjonel – into being, but I had no idea the two were connected. I still do not understand the reasons for the Sleep either. However, I have already learned to obey the prompting even if I do not know its purpose. God will reveal Himself in time.”

  “Are you tired then? Is the urge to fall asleep too strong?” Owailion asked.

  “Do not ask me to wait here long without something to occupy myself,” warned Mohan. “It is not a very comfortable or safe place to sleep a thousand years.”

  “Safe? Why would this be unsafe?” Owailion asked in alarm. Then he looked out to sea and remembered the ships full of sorcerers he still could not confront on his own. He could easily envision attacks here after the dragons slept, especially if the Seal fell with them. Deliberately Owailion shook himself away from the vision and realized he had gained an answer to one question. “I know I need to build here. God wants some kind of protection here on this cliff,” he announced.

  Mohan rumbled in a pleased fashion. “The 'where' and 'why' is a place to start. The 'what' and 'how' will come if you meditate on them. This is good.”

  Owailion found himself shaking his head even before the words died in his head. “No, I have to move on. You are growing sleepy, I can tell. I should keep going to find all of…the… the palaces. Palaces? I am supposed to build a home and this itch, it is telling me that this is the spot for one. It will one day have a Wise One here that will watch the western coast for all of us. That is the compulsion I'm feeling.”

  Owailion could not believe it had come so easily, but the itch eased even as he said the words.

  “That is good. It is a human task then. A dragon would not begin to know what a human Wise One needs in a palace…if we know what a palace even is. It is a duty for you. How long will a human palace require?”

  Owailion almost snorted with surprise. “I have no idea what it looks like? How big? What materials? Why a palace? Humans never really need something that large. A palace…it's a ridiculously grand thing…like wearing diamonds and gold to pull weeds. A simple house is all most humans require.”

  “You understand it more than I already,” Mohan chirped. “What can I do to help you?”

  Owailion stood and looked up and down the shoreline and cliff edge. His mind spun with the overwhelming sense of all that would be involved, even with magic. How would he move stone, bring water, find materials, design these homes? Was he an architect in his old life?

  “Well, I don't know what a palace is, but I presume it will take a long while to create, even with magic. Do you mind if I go find something to eat while you work on that? If I stay long here I will fall asleep and that won't be good.”

  Horrified that he had inconvenienced his friend, Owailion immediately encouraged Mohan to go and take as long as he needed. The human suspected he would be weeks here and he couldn't imagine having the dragon slowly petrify, or worse, grow ravenously hungry while he waited. He watched as Mohan lifted off to the east, launching himself off over the plains. What did a dragon eat, Owailion wondered idly and was reassured, just as Mohan disappeared from view. “It has been a long while since I've tried buffalo. That's the big game out here on the open plain.”

  Owailion chuckled as he turned away, grateful he did not have to watch a buffalo being hunted by a massive dragon. In the meantime, he considered what he wanted to eat for himself, and began by conjuring himself a fire and his tent again, just to have the reassurance of normalcy, and as soon as it grew dark, Owailion went to sleep.

  Owailion slept soundly with the wind gentle, even here at the edge of the Land and the ocean booming at the base of the cliff. He dreamt that he walked on the beach below, looking up at the white cliff wall above him like a barrier, blocking him in. That thought chilled him and he looked farther up, seeking the top of the cliff. And there he saw her – the woman from his dreams.

  She stood at the crest of the cliff, draped in misty veils that flowed like water. And behind her stood a great glistening mansion fortress of faceted stone looked out over the ocean, facing it defiantly. Owailion's dream self-wished himself up atop the cliff beside her and his wish was granted.

  He found himself standing beside her, with her graceful gown trailing away, blending in with the stone walkway and over the side of the cliff, spilling like water. Her hair and face remained obscured beneath a waterfall of veil, held in place by a gold and silver circlet of woven lilies. Owailion yearned to lift the veil and see her face, know her name and ignore the obvious purpose for her coming into his dreams.

  “No, Owailion,” she whispered in her voice like water. She did not let him divert from the task at hand. Instead, she reached out and drew him toward the palace, and he thrilled at her touch.

  Obediently he looked up at the palace he was meant to build here. Strong, thick marble-clad walls with stylized ironwork atop them lined the cliff, both menacing and yet beautiful in a majestic way, challenging any to come. The patterns engraved in the stark white walls in bas relief caught the light of the setting sun. And above the outer protections a spiraling tower, with a blinding gold roof. The iron gates repeated the decorative theme while still appearing fiercely stalwart against all comers. Atop the highest spire Owailion saw a blue banner rippling like waves in the sky and a golden eagle circled, guarding the whole complex.

  The lady then pulled him forward, toward the formidable gates that opened for them, swinging wide as they approached. Together they walked inside on a path made of flint and agate through gardens, fountains and practice yards set under cultivated shade trees. Outbuildings for weaponry and horses hid among the gardens, discretely spread throughout the grounds and complementing the landscaping. With an effort Owailion took note. He knew this dream would show him what to build if not how and he needed a sense of the person who would live here, not be distracted by the wondrous beauty that walked silently with him.

  As they approached the doors of the main building, he paused in wonder, looking up at the polished gray wood that stretched two full stories above his head. Into each side of the passageway a knight in full armor stood carved in bas relief, one holding a sword and the other a spear, as if guarding the way. The Queen of Rivers kept moving, slipping from his hands and Owailion moved forward to take her hand again as the polished doors swung open for him.

  Inside they had entered a grand foyer, complete with two staircases that wound up into the heights above and a gold chandelier that reflected off the blue and gray polished marble floors. Full suits of armor stood in niches around the oval space, and several doors, inlayed with gold and more of the bas relief soldiers led off the main floor. Owailion drank it in, wondering at the beauty and grandeur, even in a militarily fortress. This Wise One would be a warrior, he was sure. He followed the graceful queen as she flowed up the spiral stairs. Her gentleness contrasted with the weapons hung like pieces of art in between grand tapestries depicting scenes of eagles and dragons in flight. Wood, metal, glass and stone blended richly as building materials and Owailion felt grateful for magic, for no one could have gathered such a variety and quantity of raw materials, let alone built it all in one lifetime. This was a palace for the ages.

  Carefully, the dream-queen opened every room for him and some part of Owailion's mind cataloged every feature. They discovered a forge, a library, more weapons stores, and a workroom completely dedicated to sharpening and repairing all the various tools and weapons. Then he found more typical places; a kitchen with several ovens and a huge wooden cooking surface. Beside it waited a large table with simple chairs for
eight. Nearby he found a larder with access to a kitchen garden surrounded by a marble wall so no one outside would know it even existed. The queen, with her regalia fit better in a much grander dining hall that could easily seat twenty with regal blue and gold tapestries lining four fireplaces and glittering with light from candelabras and braziers. Eight private bedrooms, each with its own privy and bath filled the upper stories, each with small balconies and stained glass windows with the soldierly motif etched into them.

  “Where is there a private place where a Wise One could sit and just relax after a long day of fending off demons or sorcerers…or in this one's case, whole armies?” he asked his queen escort.

  “Above,” she whispered, sending shivers down his spine.

  She then beckoned gracefully for him to follow her up one more flight of marble stairs. There she stopped before a single gray wooden door guarded by the sculpted sentries, this time with an eagle perched on one shoulder each. She opened these doors for him, but then held up her hand to stop him entering.

  Inside he discovered the room he had anticipated; comfortable chairs in royal blue, large welcoming hearths and splendid light coming from crystal openings in the arched ceiling as well as a grand chandelier of iron, silver and gold. The floors of marble continued the military motif but a cerulean carpet with a gold star covered most of the sitting room and an absolutely stunning suit of armor, gold, platinum and silver lined steel stood at the ready, complete with a blue plumed helmet. Owailion, standing stunned in the doorway, yearned to approach for a closer examination and took one step toward the beautiful room but found his way blocked.

  “No, my love,” the gentle voice of the Queen of Rivers rippled through his mind. “Look and remember, but here you cannot enter. Not until it is given to another. This is the Chamber of Truth. Each will have one. Here only the truth will be revealed and you will see all as it should be.”