Dillon raised his hand over the waters, and they began to part. As they did land rose up from beneath the waves lapping at the newly formed shoreline. While he drew the steaming land up both Kaliq and Cronan worked to form hills, and smooth fields and bring golden sands to cover the beaches that surrounded the new land.
I thank you waters of the sea for your generosity, Dillon said when it was done.
The trio then set about to make it all fertile. Trees of all kinds sprang up. The meadows were filled with grasses and other growth. And then came animals and birds.
Three large fresh water rivers appeared, along with many brooks and streams. When they had finished Nidhug hovered above it all, marveling at their work.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“Take us home,” Dillon said in a weak voice. “We are exhausted.”
The dragon flew with them back to the royal castle. The two Shadow Princes, and the young king came down from her back and she was shocked to see how tired and drawn they were. “Are you all right?” she asked them, concerned. “Shall I call someone?”
“Nay,” Dillon told her. “We are just worn from our hard work this day.”
“We must rest,” Kaliq said. He put an arm about Cronan, who could scarcely stand. “Come, old friend. It has been quite a while since we did such work together, and we were both much younger then.”
The three men slowly entered the stairwell that would take them back into the castle. The dragon watched them go, and then she rose up and flew across the gardens to her own castle. She found Cirillo awaiting her in her Great Hall. He hurried forward, and taking her paws in his beautiful hands, kissed them tenderly.
“They have done it?” he asked.
“It was the most amazing thing to watch,” Nidhug told him as they sat together at the high board, waiting for the servants to bring their meal. “Dillon actually got the seas to part, and give forth new land. They fashioned hills and valleys, conjured up creatures of the air and land, green growth. I have never seen such incredible and strong magic, Cirillo. What little talents I possess pale in comparison. Having seen what I saw today I am almost ashamed to call myself a member of the magic world.”
“Do not be, my love,” he told her. “You, and your antecedents have kept Belmair safe throughout the aeons. That is great magic. The magic my nephew has is simply different. With his natural talents, and the blood of both faerie and Shadow running in his veins, he should be a strong sorcerer.”
“Old Cronan was quite overcome,” Nidhug said, her tone concerned.
“It will take more than helping to create a new province in Belmair to send him off into the next life,” Cirillo noted. “While you were gone I popped home to tell mother what was happening. She told me Cronan’s history. Even among the Shadow Princes he was considered eccentric, she says. She thinks he may be the last of the original Shadow lords, but is not certain. She believes Kaliq would know the answer to that.”
“I imagine when the king and his companions are recovered he will want to meet to discuss the next steps we must take,” Nidhug observed.
Cirillo nodded. “I expect Cinnia will have to go to the Dream Plain again,” he said. “It will be easier for her this time, I imagine. She will not be afraid.”
Cinnia was already preparing herself for another visit to the Dream Plain. Dillon had returned tired, but enthusiastic over their day’s work. He had taken a reflecting bowl and filled it with water. Then with a soft word and a wave of his hand he had shown her the new province of Belbuoy.
“You have made it more like this land than like the others,” Cinnia noted. “I shall tell Arlais, and she can tell her sons. It will be a good place for the Yafir, and allow our own Belmairans to grow used to them again especially if some of them settle among us to begin with rather than living on Belbuoy. There is so little physical difference between us, Dillon. The males still seem to possess the silvery hair and aquamarine-blue eyes no matter their bloodlines, but few among the women have such coloring.”
“Have you seen enough?” he asked, and when she nodded that she had, he emptied the reflecting bowl of its water, and returned it to its place upon a shelf. “Do not go to the Dream Plain tonight,” he told her. “I would be near when you do, and I need to rest now to restore my own strength. Come and lie with me, Cinnia. Tomorrow we will speak with Kaliq and Cronan. The plans we make must be foolproof if we are to succeed.”
Cinnia took her husband by the hand, and together they lay upon their bed. She wrapped her arms about him, cradling him tenderly, and they slept the night through. When the new day dawned Dillon was refreshed, and his strength had returned. He ate a hearty breakfast, and then in the company of his wife they met with the others.
The great map of Belmair was spread again upon the library table, and with a flick of a finger the new province of Belbuoy appeared upon the parchment. It was then agreed that Cinnia would meet again upon the Dream Plain with Arlais this coming night. Nothing else could be accomplished until then.
“What of dwellings for the Yafir?” Cinnia asked.
“We could do what Lara did when she removed the clan families from the Outlands into the New Outlands,” Kaliq suggested.
“I think it too dangerous to move people and dwellings through the sea that same way,” Dillon said.
“Move the entire bubble,” Cronan told them. “It will protect them, and all within it. Then once it is upon Belbuoy I will remove the bubble.”
“But what if all within the bubble do not wish to come?” Cinnia said.
“That is a problem that must be decided among the Yafir,” Cronan replied.
Dillon nodded. “If we wish to break Ahura Mazda’s hold upon the Yafir they must be given a choice, something they have not had in centuries.”
“Then I will go to the Dream Plain tonight,” Cinnia told them.
“Take this for Arlais and her sons,” Kaliq said, and reaching into his robes he drew forth a small crystal globe. “Tell Arlais that the crystal will show Belbuoy to any who request to see it.” He handed the globe to Cinnia.
“But how…?” she began.
“Hold it in your hand as you fall into sleep, Cinnia,” Kaliq instructed her. “Because it is magic it will come with you as you journey, and Arlais will be able to carry it back with her when she awakens. That way she can show it to her sons.”
Cinnia took the globe, and slipped it into the pocket of her own robes.
“Now we must wait,” Dillon said, “and see what will transpire after tonight.”
“Then I shall sleep until I am needed again,” Cronan said.
“And I will return to Shunnar,” Kaliq announced.
“And I will return to my mother’s realm then,” Cirillo said. “When it is time to act, call me.” He turned to the dragon. “Come, my dear,” he said to her. “We must talk before I leave you.”
“Of course, my lord,” Nidhug said, and she fluttered her heavy eyelashes at him as together they left the hall, and began to stroll slowly across the garden.
“There is more between us than just pleasures and passion,” the faerie prince said to the dragon as they walked.
“There can be nothing more,” Nidhug told him. “You are faerie. I am dragon.”
“Knowing the calling of your own heart, do you truly believe that?” Cirillo asked her quietly. “I know that I love you, my lady dragon.”
“You are young, Cirillo. You have not even lived a half century yet. I have
lived for several centuries now,” she told him.
“Age means nothing to those of us in the magic realm, Nidhug. It is nought but a number. I love you. If you can tell me that you do not love me then when this matter between Belmair and the Yafir is concluded I will go and never return,” Cirillo replied.
“No!” the dragon cried, the word slipping from between her lips unbidden. Then she said, “You are cruel, Cirillo.”
“Aye, I am cruel. I have a cold faerie heart, and yet it seems to warm for you, and only you. Tell me that you do not love me, Nidhug.”
“I cannot,” she replied, several large tears slipping down her snout. “I do love you, and it is a most impossible situation, my beautiful faerie prince.”
“Nay, it is not. We are magic, Nidhug. If it pleased you I would be that blue-and-gold dragon for as long as we both live,” he declared passionately.
“Foolish prince,” the dragon replied. “You cannot. You are your mother’s only heir. You will one day rule the Forest Faeries, and you must take a faerie wife so you may have an heir to follow you. That is why this is so impossible, Cirillo.”
“That time is far in the future, and when that time comes I will do my duty, but my mother has barely reached her prime,” Cirillo said. “You are the mate I would have. I will not always be true to you for that is my faerie nature, but I will love no other, Nidhug, but you. You are the keeper of my heart, my darling dragon.”
And then the faerie prince took his dragon’s form, and together the two soared into the skies above the twin castles. They flew over the sparkling afternoon sea to Belia where they took pleasures together in Nidhug’s cave high above the province. Their cries of satisfaction as they mated were so loud that their roars sounded like thunder, and Belia’s folk looking to the skies were puzzled by the lack of rain clouds or rain. Finally the two dragons slept until the early evening when they returned to Nidhug’s castle. It was there that Cirillo took leave of his lover and returned to Hetar’s forests where his mother was awaiting him.
“The scent of lust is upon you,” Ilona greeted her son.
Cirillo laughed, but said nothing.
“How goes it in Belmair?” she asked him.
Cirillo told his mother in careful detail, for detail was important to the faerie kingdoms. Detail helped with spells, and other magic to be performed.
“And old Cronan is still useful?” Ilona sounded amazed.
“Did you ever meet him?” Cirillo asked her.
Ilona shook her head. “I know him only by reputation. I wonder what the Shadow Princes will think when Kaliq tells them that he lives.”
“I do not know if he will,” Cirillo said.
“Aha! Clever creature that he is, aye! Kaliq would keep such information for his own advantage. Well, let him. Had Cronan ever picked a successor it would have undoubtedly been Kaliq or so rumor would have it,” Ilona said. Then she turned to her son. “When this is over there will be no need for you to return to Belmair.”
“I will always return to Belmair,” Cirillo told his mother.
“I think it is time for me to pick a proper faerie bride for you,” Ilona told her son.
“Do not, Mother, or you will doom some poor faerie maid to disappointment,” he warned her. “My cold faerie heart belongs to the dragon. It is she who warms it. One day I will do as you wish, briefly love another and father an heir or an heiress upon one of our kind. But I love Nidhug, and I will not deny it. Nor will I lie to you about it,” Cirillo said.
“You have your father’s straightforward manner,” Ilona said grudgingly. “Very well, Cirillo, for now I will leave you to your little amusement. If you tell me you will one day take a faerie wife and father an heir then I will trust you to know when the time is right. A dragon! What kind of a son did I raise that he would fall in love with a dragon? I liked it better when you were more like me, flitting from lover to lover.”
“I will still take a lover now and again, Mother. I am faerie. Nidhug knows that, and she understands it is my nature,” Cirillo said.
Ilona shook her beautiful golden head. “You do know she is older than you?”
“Centuries older.” He chuckled, agreeing.
“I shall blame Kaliq for this,” Ilona decided. “I should have never let you study with him for all those years. He has been a bad influence.”
“I suspect he would be delighted to know that you think so, Mother,” Cirillo teased her, grinning. “Now, if you will excuse me, I shall go and find Father.”
She waved him off and, watching him go, she smiled. She had birthed but two children, and each in their way was extraordinary. She was very proud of her daughter, Lara, who while mating with mortals had done her heritage proud. And while she adored her son, the fates were obviously tempting Ilona of the Forest Faeries. A dragon? How had Cirillo lost his faerie heart to a dragon? She wondered if she would ever know.
Chapter 17
“I WILL REMAIN with you while you journey,” Dillon told Cinnia as she prepared for her second trip to the Dream Plain. They had gone to the dream chamber, and he handed her the cup of sweet frine that he had prepared. Cinnia drank it down, kissed his lips and then lay down upon the comfortable bed, Kaliq’s crystal globe in her hand.
“I feel secure knowing you are there,” Cinnia told him. Her head touched the pillow, and it cradled her neck and shoulders. “I love you,” she told him, and then she closed her eyes. Slowly, slowly she sank into a deep sleep, and by the look that suddenly touched her face he knew she had reached her destination.
The silvery-gray mists were very thick. Aware of everything about her, Cinnia stood very still. “Arlais,” she called softly, and then more insistently, “Arlais! Where are you?” She began to walk through the mists, and then they grew thinner, and she could see Arlais coming toward her.
“I was beginning to think that you had either forgotten or that our first meeting was nothing more than a dream,” Arlais said as they met and embraced warmly.
“Nay, but there has been so much to do,” Cinnia said. “My husband and others have created a new province they have named Belbuoy. He drew the land from the sea, and it is beautiful and fertile. It is to be the Yafir’s new home.” She went on to explain everything to Arlais, who listened intently. And then Cinnia reached into her robes and brought out the crystal globe. “Kaliq of the Shadows has sent this to you,” she said. “You, or whoever holds it has but to ask to see Belbuoy, and they will.” She handed the globe to Arlais. “It is yours to keep. When you awaken it will be with you, and proof of what is happening between us. Have you spoken with your sons?”
“I have. They are cautious, for to trust a Belmairan is not something they have been taught to do,” Arlais said candidly. “But they are also hopeful for a future that will take them back to live upon the land.”
“They are men grown, and yet you are but twenty-seven,” Cinnia said. “Such a thing defies logic, but Dillon says time has been manipulated for the Yafir. Is it not odd to have sons who look your age?”
Arlais laughed. “At first as they grew and grew and I remained the same it did seem strange. But one grows used to such things. Now, however, there are so many of us. Ahura Mazda kept insisting our men keep stealing Belmairan women, and the women kept having sons, and few daughters.” She sighed. “A society peopled mostly by men is not an easy place in which to exist. The men have little to do, and where once we had land beneath the sea where we farmed, now most of that land is taken up with h
omes for our burgeoning population. The bubbles cannot expand it seems. I have asked Ahura Mazda about this, but he waves my questions away, and will not answer.”
“It is not his magic that created the bubbles, or that keeps them safe,” Cinnia told Arlais. “The Yafir were saved by an ancient Shadow Prince named Cronan who makes his home on Belmair. I do not know how he became acquainted with Ahura Mazda, but he did. He took pity on the Yafir, for they are considered the lowliest of the magic folk.”
Arlais’s mouth dropped open in surprise, and then she laughed. “That wicked Yafir,” she said softly. “The Yafir had no real lord until Ahura Mazda. When that old Belmairan king banished them from Belmair, they were ready to wander once again. But Ahura Mazda told them he could save them, and they would never have to wander again. With a wave of his hand he took them to the bubbles, dispersing the various families among them. Those who remember that time say that the cottages were already there. In fact everything was there for them. And Ahura Mazda made it possible for them to return to the land to take the women they sought when they wanted them.”
“The magic to transport themselves and others is a magic that belongs to the pure-blooded Yafir, but the magic for creating and sustaining the bubbles is not theirs. That is great magic, and only a Shadow Prince has that kind of magic,” Cinnia told Arlais.
“So my husband is a fraud.” Arlais chuckled wickedly. Then she grew serious. “He will not leave his castle, or his bubble,” she told Cinnia.
“In the end he may have to,” Cinnia replied. “Cronan is very, very old, Arlais. His strength is waning with each day. Soon he will not be able to sustain the Yafir in their hidden world. He is, I suspect, partly responsible for bringing Dillon to Belmair. He himself has said that none of us, Belmairan or Yafir, could survive with another narrow-minded king. We needed fresh blood. Fresh eyes to see.”
Arlais nodded. “I agree,” she said.
The Sorceress of Belmair Page 44
