Talismans
Page 13
Raimi held the glowing orb, her Heart Stone up into the air. So with it theoretically she could do any magic that led to good. She felt no different having discovered her Heart Stone. Experimentally Raimi placed the orb near her heart the way Owailion did and it disappeared. Now she was protected from temptation to do evil with her magic.
She considered what she wanted to explore next. Before, when she used magic to shift back to her 'birth place', she had her memory to draw upon. Did she really have to remember a place to do this travel?
Experimentally Raimi drew her mind to a place she could only imagine, one she had not yet visited. Her mind flowed even farther upstream, to where the Lara River split in two, coming out of the mountains. Here the water rushed until it met the other equally strong branch and she felt it settle. The temperature of the air and the angle of the sun changed noticeably and Raimi then she opened her eyes. Evening gloom had descended here. Thoughtfully Raimi walked the thin shores, wondering why she had again chosen to come to this place. She had established that she could travel from place to place without having to seen a place.
But she had to admit also that it reminded her of Owailion and for no discernible reason. And here, she had come on the off chance that Owailion might be here.
Yes, she had come here alone to think about Owailion.
Are you really that in love with him, after only a matter of a few days? Was that even reasonable? Wise Ones, indeed! She had come here to this empty strand of river to think without the risk of having dragons or handsome distractions prevent her from thinking clearly. She knew that serious thought needed isolation. How was she to comprehend the unfathomable yearning she had toward a virtual stranger? Yet she felt so at peace. Nothing but God crafting this magic could account for her inner feelings.
Raimi yearned to learn more about Owailion. Sometimes she became mesmerized by the dark of his eyes, or the strange, snow white hair. Had she always enjoyed those features in men she found attractive, or was this just him? She loved the shape of his calloused hands, gentle and strong. His mind, always thinking and speculating, kept her concentration about him rather than fearing the new, alarming world she had literally waded into. Was that by design? If so, whose design? Again, could she blame God?
Some forgotten memory of a higher power brought her to her knees in the soft sand beside the river. As the stars began to break out beyond the misty hilltops, Raimi prayed. She had to have some reason to make this leap beyond just her own desires. The words would not come aloud, but she knew Someone heard them.
And the comfort came to her heart. She knew.
If she felt at peace with her bond with magic and Owailion before, having that confirmation from He who gave these gifts to her, that brought her to tears. She wept in joy and let the drops fall to the earth to blend with the river.
But something magical happened. Through her tears, Raimi saw something strange occur. Where her tears touched the earth, the soil and sand disappeared in whole handfuls. Fascinated and a little alarmed, she wiped her eyes to gain a better view of the phenomena happening right before her. Something niggled at her mind and she used a little magic to add more water to the hole forming before her, which deepened again until she could not physically reach the bottom of the fist sized pit.
Raimi instead used her mind and explored down into the dark, sensing the river wanted to fill it in but a magic not of her creation held it back. Then Raimi's mind reached bedrock level. She felt something there and magically and lifted it free from the mud. At first she thought it simply a dirty stone, so she carried it to the water to rinse it free. In the dark she could not make out its shape, but under the water, her vision cleared. She washed the mud free and saw a box with a simple lid which she lifted free. She then tipped out the box's contents.
In her hands she held a charming little bowl. It would barely hold two or three handfuls of water, but she could imagine a lily floating in it and growing, or a pearl swirling about in it only to transform into a fish. The vessel had three short legs to hold it steady on a table, and silver lilies and reeds etched around its base. Obviously it was magic, for how else had she found it? But what did it do?
Without answers Raimi followed an instinct, bent and filled the bowl with water from the bank. In the reflection there she saw the moon, but also, something else. She lowered her head to see more clearly. On the water's surface Raimi saw Owailion sitting cross-legged on the island at Lolar. She recognized the bend in the river and the stones on the shore, but the image was in the daylight, during summer with the cool trees above his head, casting the river into shadow. He sat with a simple stone in his hands. He examined it, turning it over and over, concentrating on it. Then the stone dissolved into three powders. Fascinated, she watched as he mixed the powders and then pressed them into shape. She saw the whole episode; casting the vessel, etching the decoration and even the burial of the very bowl that now showed her the past. But how had it come to be here, so far away from its original burial place? Or maybe it had come to her here.
When the ground closed up again beneath Owailion's hand, the vision in the bowl faded and only the moonlight remained cast in the still water she held. Raimi found she had been holding her breath, for she let it out, rippling the liquid in the bowl, and with it the remains of the spell. Well, she had her answers. The vessel had been made for her by Owailion and hidden until she found it. She had wanted to see something of Owailion's past and now she had. The bowl's purpose was clear; to show the past. Perhaps it was fitting; she was the Queen of Rivers, always moving on into the future.
She would tell Owailion how she had discovered his little bowl when they met that night. Raimi looked up into the sky and realized she had been gone from Imzuli for hours. She would hold the bowl for a surprise when they reunited.
With little fear of her traveling magically now, Raimi stretched her mind out toward the river bank where she knew instinctively Imzuli waited for her and stepped toward the dragon who patiently watched the stars.
Chapter 12 – Malornia
Owailion and Mohan flew directly up the Lara River, covering the empty plains rapidly, with a far different mission. “We must plan before we go,” Mohan warned. “It is a dangerous place and what you propose is no pleasure trip.”
“I was under the impression that you had never left the Land,” Owailion commented.
“Before you first came, I had not. But while you were waiting for your lady, I did go. I wanted to ask some questions of an exiled dragon there. It was not a pleasant interview. He knew nothing of the Sleep, of your coming, or even God's plans for the Land. He did, however, tell me that those rune stones would be very valuable to humans over there.”
Owailion considered that for a moment. “Someone might believe that the writing might speak of how to break the Seal. If they can read the stones, they can enter the Land. That is my greatest fear,” Owailion muttered gloomily. He did not want to go to Malornia, but he must if he were to find the stones.
Just then, as they were flying up the river, he felt a now familiar itch. Something directly below him demanded his attention. “Mohan…” he began to tell him, but the dragon must have felt the itch for himself and had already begun to spiral down toward the river that snaked below them.
“Is it another palace?”
“I would assume so,” Owailion replied, “but I won't know until I sleep and dream about it. I hope the dreams include Raimi again.” After Mohan landed, Owailion slid off and looked around the empty place. “Who would want to live here out in the middle of nowhere?” As far as the eye could see, vast flat plains spread in every direction. In the winter this place would be buried in blizzards and in the summer it would bake in the sun. Not a single tree or small hillock to break up the scenery. Only the river right before them gave any relief from the dead and dying grasslands.
Without knowing what he was doing, Owailion began strolling along the river bank where reeds and lilies grew. The swampy land refused to make
way for the trees, and here he walked, heedless of the mud into which he sank. Then without warning Owailion reached down and scooped up two fists full of the reeds, jerking them cleanly out of the marshland.
“What are you doing?” Mohan asked.
“Something was starting there. I think these reeds are 'going demon',” replied Owailion and dragged his gleanings up onto the bank and under the trees. “They were listening to us and whispering to each other.”
Mohan rocked back in surprise*. “I had not sensed that….until you pointed it out to me. My, you are very good. You heard them whispering?*”
“No, not heard precisely. I just…knew.” Owailion walked up past the river bank and up to the grasslands where eventually he would build the palace he had felt. With Mohan watching he conjured a blanket and set the reeds out neatly on the surface, spaced evenly and well away from each other. “They wanted to combine together, teaming up and whisper spells. I sensed the magic and the reeds were perfect to do it. In the winter winds they would have completed the job, coming together to whisper evil things. And now I know exactly what I shall do with them.”
“Do with them?” Mohan asked, almost bewildered. “You are going to make a Talisman with them. And you know someone will need these…these reeds? For what?” The dragon's curiosity worked to keep Mohan awake quite nicely.
“Hopefully it will have some gift for magic. That bowl showed me the past when the rune stones were stolen,” Owailion reminded the dragon.
Owailion looked at the assembled reeds and began arranging them, largest to smallest. He didn't dare yet allow them to touch each other yet or they might start to whisper again, but he could see his creation in his mind's eye. He would dry, cut, sand and polish them with lacquer, bind them together and have a set of pipes fit for a Queen. Mohan must have tapped into Owailion's mind, for he saw the final instrument and asked the obvious question.
“What is it?”
“They are a set of pipes; a musical instrument. I don't know what magic it will craft, or how she will use it, but the Queen of Rivers must have a set of pipes. These are for her, a second Talisman.”
“How long will it take to create this Talisman?” Mohan asked, looking at the sun high in the sky and thinking loudly that he might go hunting.
“It took about a day with the bowl. That was simpler in structure but I also had no idea what I was doing. You go and eat. I will call you when I am ready. I won't start this palace until after the pipes are formed.”
Mohan agreed to the plan and then departed. Meanwhile Owailion began physically manipulating the reeds. He dried them with a thought, cleaning out the pulp from within them and conjured a little brush to sweep inside each. He next conjured a fine lacquer to brush over them as he judged size and circumference. He dared even to blow on each reed, listening to the tone and discarding three of them as flawed. Did he even have a musical background? Owailion doubted it, but he understood the dynamics of sound enough to recognize all the notes he would need to make a suitable set of pipes. Next he conjured a sharp knife to start cutting each reed to the length needed for the notes required.
Overhead the sun passed and then night fell. He didn't remember conjuring a fire, but somehow there was light as he worked obsessively. He could not stop in the middle of this project, for it demanded every bit of his magical attention. Indeed, he doubted that the palaces he had started would continue rising during this time and he would have to consciously reactivate the work there, but he did not care. He had to prevent a demon from forming and he worked feverishly at it. Then he wrapped the pipes together with silver and gold twine he conjured. Finally he decorated the hefty pack of pipes in silver lilies and gold reeds just like the decoration he had placed on the bowl he had made earlier.
Finally at dawn he lay back with the completed instrument at his side and fell asleep, at last done. Fortunately, the Queen of the Rivers floated through his dreams to distract him. All he lacked now was a place to hide his gift for her.
When he woke, instinctively he reached out to Raimi, seeking her mind somewhere in the Land. His thoughts drifted toward the northeast, up along the Lara River. There he found her thinking of him.
“Good morning,” she called to him. “You were asleep and so I didn't want to interrupt you. What were you doing that you are sleeping in until almost noon?”
He smiled at her implied jealousy. “Making a gift for you,” he replied, keeping his secret behind his shields.
“I know, I can see them. They're pretty. Another Talisman?”
“What…how?” he sputtered.
“You are sitting right next to the river. I've learned I can see many things in reflections. I also found my Heart Stone and the little bowl you made me. It showed me how you built it as a Talisman and now I've been watching you, both in the river and in the bowl.”
Owailion felt a profound sense of pride in her accomplishments in just a little over a day. “You are doing very well,” he complimented her. “As for my progress, I found another palace here in the middle of nowhere that I must start. Then, if I don't find a place to hide these pipes, I will be going to Malornia…probably tonight. I don't know if it will be safe for me to contact you, or even what time it will be there if I can.”
“Then I will expect you to call when you can…and hide those pipes. I like the bowl and look forward to finding what the pipes can do.” Then her voice grew conspiratorial. “And remember, I will be watching you.” She laughed boldly, and Owailion could not help but laugh with her.
After he broke off his contact with Raimi, he began the excavation for the palace he had dreamed of, still escorted by the lovely Queen of Rivers. Later that afternoon Mohan returned from his feeding and Owailion was excited to begin his next adventure; traveling to Malornia.
“So you have never really explored other lands?” Owailion asked Mohan as they left the Lara riverbank, departing with yet another palace under way. “You would not know where we should look for a priest then?” asked Owailion.
As they flew northwest, as if they would fly there direct, Mohan taught him what he knew: Malornia to the west, Demion to the east and Marwen to the south*. “All of them are ruled by humans but I am sure that Marwen has driven the dragons away and Demion has no mountains, unless you count the Great Chain that they share with the Land's borders. I fear we only have Malornia as an option. I think the humans in Malornia are clustered near the sea.*”
“Why would you use those words, 'I fear we only have Malornia'? Is it so bad then?” queried Owailion.
“Malornia, the land from where the outlander ships have always sailed. I think of it as the nation of the outlanders. Demion has demons and Marwen shuts us out but Malornia is aggressive. Is there a priest there? Surely, but we must be cautious there. Dragons go there in exile and become slaves to the sorcerers. If you wish me to accompany you we must be careful. It may seem strange to see free dragons about.”
“Do you want me to go alone?” Owailion asked, assuming Mohan's reluctance. “You can get me to a port and I could sail there.”
Mohan muttered in discontent. “No, there is no need of that. We can fly there instantly and I will let you walk into the first city we come near. I should be there to protect you if things go awry but I don't need to go in with you. I can hide outside.”
Owailion looked around at the plains they were crossing, grassy and featureless. “Then let's go now,” he suggested.
“It will still be dark on the Malornian coast if we arrive now. This will be good.”
A bleak disc of sun showed through the overcast sky as they prepared to leave the Land. Owailion felt a sense of foreboding as they prepared to depart the Land. “And be sure to wear your shields as strongly as you can…without putting yourself into your royal clothes. That would not be wise. There are both demons and evil men here who will be interested in a stranger even if they do not know you for a magician. Strong shields and no other magic if you can avoid it,” the dragon advised.
Pitch black night greeted them and Owailion could only make out the ground as a series of thin white lines moving against the darkness. He peered down, studying it out until he recognized the crests of waves meeting the darkness of the beach beneath them. Without asking his input or advice, Mohan turned south along the beach, following it closely but still aloft so that anyone out at this hour might think he was simply a gull on the wind.
“There,” Owailion called. “Just there. Lights from a town. Most people live near the sea. It's a sure means to find food and one less direction to defend in case of an attack.”
“Unless you consider a sea attack,” added Mohan. “I will set down here and hide in those trees there…with invisibility, for they do not look to be particularly tall trees. Then you can walk the rest of the way.”
Owailion squinted into the dark but could only make out the difference between sea and sand because of the surf. He trusted that Mohan knew what he was about and leaned back as the dragon slowed and landed on the beach. Then he slithered down the dragon's back.
“What should I wear and carry with me?” he asked as Mohan stamped his way into a grove of trees on the shoreline's edge, with predictable devastation.
“How would I know? I've never met a human other than you and Raimi,” the dragon replied*. “You know more about man than I ever will. Good luck and call me when you are ready.*”
Owailion turned reluctantly and began tramping down the beach, wondering how far away the lights had been as he walked. Could he even do magic here? Experimentally he conjured himself a hat to see if that skill functioned here in this foreign land. When the felt hat appeared as he ordered, Owailion sighed with relief. He added a less insulated cloak than the one he was wearing when aloft with Mohan. He hoped that a priest would not think him too destitute to support a wife. Nor did he wish to seem rich enough to rob. With that thought Owailion conjured himself a sturdy sword in an unmarked sheath and a small purse of gold to pay for anything he might need.