Sitting cross-legged on the hide, the warmth of the pile soothed Lyra. She placed the bark drawn with runes beside her. “Do you know anything about Aria?”
“I’m afraid not, only heard it talked about in story circles, tall tales about people dancing among the clouds.”
“Well, we don’t have much choice, so it doesn’t matter. Let’s get started on the riddle. The first answer is easy enough. Listing them by age, the five books were written by Elisabeth, Nareene, Sorcha, Brigid, and myself. Several copies of Brigid’s and mine exist. The two remaining lost books are Sorcha’s and Nareene’s.”
“And no one knows how many, if any, copies of those exist,” Cullen added.
“The World Tree said he helped a Scribe at a time when the Dark Realm dominated all of Dragonspeir. According to our Imperial Dragon, that was just before his father’s term, about six hundred years ago—when Nareene was the Scribe.”
Cullen stroked his goatee. “Your logic is correct…except the reign of the Dark Realm lasted nearly two centuries. It could have been Elisabeth, after she finished her bloodswear quest. On that mission, she was expected to get the Emtori ruby away from the Black Dragon. It could be just another copy of her book in Aria, like the one we just found.”
“The chief elder in Terza, Kon, mentioned she was there to learn about the powers of that ruby. Could he really have been over eight hundred years old and knew her?”
“It’s quite possible.”
Lyra hugged her arms tightly around her knees and rocked in place. “Also, her lover, Sire Garrett, died. The World Tree told us that no one accompanied the Scribe he transported into Aria. It could have been Elisabeth.” She stared at Cullen and hoped he came up with another clue.
“The histories of either Elisabeth or Nareene fit.” He met her gaze and then his eyes flitted away. “You choose. Would your birthmate star give you guidance?”
“Not likely, since in spring Hamal rides low on the horizon, usually not visible. With the full moon flooding the sky with light and the forest blocking my view, it will be very difficult to communicate. I can try Regulus of Leo, another fire sign that can enhance my power. But, my ancestral history is stored in Hamal of Aries.” She drew into a ball and rested her chin on her knees. “When I opened Elisabeth’s book, I briefly touched her power. Although facts made it seem plausible she was the one to visit Aria, something at the root of my aura keeps me from accepting that answer.”
“Maybe we can do better with the second question. What was the value of that Scribe’s book?” Cullen’s apprehension showed in his shaky voice. “Let’s form an answer for each of those two women. Elisabeth’s Book of Dragonspeir was the first, giving new power to the Alliance.”
“Hope. That would be the value. Hope for peace.” Lyra spoke clearly and relaxed her knees to one side, glad for a certain answer.
Cullen nodded and straightened his posture. “Nareene’s…I really have no idea since it’s been lost for so long and there is no record.”
“I don’t know either.” Lyra wrung her hands, frustrated that they couldn’t find a complete answer for two of the three questions. “Skip that one for now. Who helped the Scribe return to her homeland from Aria?”
“Every Scribe was a mortal human. Apparently, there is or was a portal connecting Aria to the human world.”
“The World Tree connects to Aria with his upper branches, so the connector must be tall.” Lyra’s gaze absently followed the wood grain of the bark panels. “What is tall enough in my world? Radio towers? Water towers?”
“I believe only beings with an aura would be able to transfer the magic like Lord Ash described.”
“Then…a tree, a bird. I can’t think of anything else.” She shook her head.
Cullen moved Ysmena’s bark copy of the figures between them. “Let’s look at the runes for clues.”
They stared at the three symbols in silence for several minutes. The first was a simple spiral, turning clockwise. The second showed two parallel half arrows that met from opposite directions at a perpendicular line. After that line, the arrows continued in their opposite directions, but had become whole.
“This last one looks like a stick figure of a woman wearing a wavy skirt that hides her legs,” Lyra commented. “All women wear skirts or long gowns here. That doesn’t tell anything.”
“The images are suggestive, not literal. These have more details than modern styles.”
“They look like Egyptian hieroglyphs or even more like American Indian symbols…and that could be the right time period.” She eagerly leaned farther over the notebook-size piece of bark. “The wavy skirt means a flowing river. And the body of the woman is a tree.”
“Seems right. The World Tree gave away the meaning of the first figure, that spiral, when he talked about how magic was transformed energy. The spiral shows that process, and it’s very like our modern symbol for energy transfer. Ysmena said he spoke in riddles.”
“Yes!” Lyra rested a hand on his knee. “But, I’m still unsure about the second shape with those changing arrows. They meet at a line, become whole or stronger, and then continue on their separate ways. Who do those arrows represent?”
“The World Tree, getting power for Silva Caliga, and…” Cullen raked his fingers through his hair. His eyes narrowed, and he pointed to the bark. “Aria. They received the copy of the Scribe’s book and the energy contained in its magical text.”
“So, my guess for the purpose of Nareene’s book would be an energy gateway to bolster Silva Caliga. That way it didn’t fall to the Dark Realm like everywhere else in Dragonspeir!” Lyra spoke faster and rolled onto one knee. “I just remembered when I worked with the Tortoise to prepare for my bloodswear quest, he told me about Silva Caliga. It has always remained a neutral territory.”
She checked her commuter bag to be sure her own version of the Book of Dragonspeir she had attempted to offer Kon was still there. “We might need this to make a trade for the lost volume they have in Aria.” When she replaced the book, her hand brushed past the shape of a bottle in another compartment. “Wait!” She pulled the container out. “I still have this celestial dew I gathered when Hamal was in the sky last winter. I’ll try that if the other fire stars don’t help enough when I read them tonight for information about the past Scribes.” She carefully stored the bottle.
“Great idea!” Cullen nodded and pointed to the last rune. “And the Scribe returned to her human world helped by a tree that grows near a river. What trees do you know that grow along river ways?”
“Weeping willow and river birch are the only ones I can think of.” Lyra rolled onto her back and sighed. “I’m no good at northern trees. I have no idea, and we need all three answers.”
“You’re thinking too hard. It will come to you. Close your eyes and picture visits to rivers during family trips to the north.”
Lyra clamped her eyelids shut and rifled through memories of vacations.
Cullen’s lips brushed against hers.
The muscles of her face instantly relaxed. Between kisses, she asked, “Are you using magic to relax me so I can come up with answer?”
He grinned and trailed kisses along her neck. “Can’t you tell the difference?”
She unclasped his cloak and ran her hands over his chest. “I never can. Too busy enjoying.”
He muffled a chuckle into the base of her throat. “I can’t either, but you are less tense.”
“A good technique then,” Lyra breathed into his ear before she nibbled the lobe.
Cullen’s fingers wound into her hair and massaged her scalp. Suddenly, he broke away and sat up. “There’s something in your hair. Hold on.”
She bent her head toward him, and whatever it was held tight to her hair as he pulled. “Owee! What is it?”
He held his palm flat, showing her a large, prickled seed structure. It was the shape of a cherry dangling on a stem, but dry and brown with dozens of tiny pods.
“That’s the tree!” Sh
e took it from his hand and rolled it over. “I collected these as a girl along the Wachatoo River from huge sycamores. This must be a sign that it’s the tree that helped the Scribe return.”
“Through the fog, I saw glimpses of a river alongside the guarded footpath to the World Tree. It well could be a sign. Let me get them all out.”
She bent low. “Do you think this disqualifies us? Did the sycamore here help us find the answer?”
“It’s a chance, but rather remote. You didn’t see the sycamore here to make an aura connection.” He worked for a couple minutes, carefully removing two more from her wavy hair and placed them aside with the copy of the runes. “Keep these safe. If it is a sign, they might be needed later.”
“This relaxing technique is useful. Do you think the keeper of this oak we’re in sleeps soundly?” Lyra murmured and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
Cullen grinned. “Let’s hope so. In any case, we’ll try to keep the noise low.” He eased her backward onto the soft hide and unfastened the jade brooch at the neck of her cloak. His tongue forced past her lips while his fingers inched the thin layers of her skirt up until he discovered the prize of her skin.
Heat sparked under his hand on her thigh as well as in Lyra’s heart—their magical bond of love. Her fingers flew down the placket of his tunic, unfastening the buttons. She sighed against his lips.
Cullen responded by whisking her dress off of her and running a hand over her breast.
With the riddle solved, Lyra was anxious to complete their next quest. Her heart raced and her lungs expanded. Bursting with nervous energy, she let go of all inhibitions and arched her back to meet his touch.
His fingers pinched one of her nipples, and she moaned with the tingling sensations shooting between her legs.
Lyra interrupted him, pushing his shoulders away. She yanked his tunic up and off and wasted no time undoing his trouser belt.
With a devilish grin, Cullen stripped off the rest of his clothes and covered her with his body, the two of them sinking into the thick pile. He toyed with the edges of her panties, the way she always enjoyed, teasing her.
Pent up energy spilled out of Lyra’s body and she took control, rolling them over. She straddled him, trying to tease him like he did her.
He closed his eyes and lay back, calm and smiling. But, her rocking action proved too much, and he grabbed her hips.
Unable to hold back, Lyra pushed against him and the action sent electrical pulses shooting in all directions through her pelvis. She gasped for a single breath, then harder pushed against him.
Cullen clamped onto the soft flesh of her butt. Sweat dripped from his face and chest onto her.
Nervous energy spilled out of Lyra’s pores, covering her in a film of perspiration. Her back arched, and she dug her fingernails into his shoulders. A low moan escaped from deep in her throat, becoming ragged with her release.
He rolled off of her, panting. The ends of his shoulder length hair curled tight and shined with dampness.
Lyra’s chest expanded with several long, full breaths. She let them pass over her, calmly watching as her rough inhalations softened and let go to smooth, extended out-breaths. Her troubled mind welcomed the stillness. The last she remembered was Cullen pulling blankets over the two of them.
***
A lively fiddle tune jolted Lyra awake. She sat straight up, mentally arranging details of how to answer the riddle and what they needed to accomplish on the new quest in Aria.
Cullen seemed no different, reaching a hand out to gather clothes before he even sat upright.
They dressed quickly, but took care to stow the three sycamore seed balls and fasten the paired jadestone brooches on their cloaks.
After pushing the door open on its crude rope hinges, Lyra found the party fully underway. Even more than in the morning, thousands of circutamina hopped, danced, and darted in all directions. Lights of many more decorated all the trees in the glade, especially the goddesses.
Stepping onto the narrow threshold signaled the oak who held them to bend a branch their way.
They took seats and were smoothly delivered to the ground, only to be whisked away by at least a dozen tree keepers. The tiny folk encircled the guests while escorting them to the grand buffets, heavily laden with special foods. “It’s time for us to share our repast. We must all partake to honor and keep the equinox blessings,” said one of the tree spirits. Lyra took a closer look and recognized the hemlock keeper she’d befriended last winter.
“Ivri! It’s good to see you again. Are all the tree spirits here? I’d like a chance to give Rona a proper thank you for guiding me and Kenzo through the tunnels of the rowan roots.”
“Alas, she’s not here. None of the circutamina from Silva Nocens are present. They must constantly defend the trees they keep against evil species,” Ivri replied.
At the buffet, Lyra took small portions so she could sample many of the savory-smelling tuber stews and nut salads. After accepting a tall mug of a strange amber beverage, she followed Ivri to a table and seats fashioned from raised tree roots.
Cullen ate heartily. “The meal is delicious, Ivri.”
A chorus of giggles and twitters responded from all the circutamina nearby.
“Please enjoy your fill, Sire Drake,” Ivri replied, waving a hand to her assistant to top off his mug of ale.
The alcohol of the dark brew warmed Lyra’s insides. It tasted similar to beer but with an earthier flavor, made of some different grain.
The tree spirits drank from espresso-sized mugs, but as many times as they refilled, the size she drank from would have been more appropriate. Many circutamina sat on any rock or raised root nearby, entertained by the company of their guests. Others hung from branches above the couple’s table, joining in the conversation. Belly laughs and giggles rang out in all directions.
Kenzo and Noba swooped in and out, attempting to scare the tiny folk. However, many times the jokes ended up on the wizard’s assistants who, after imbibing too much, often flopped into hidden twigs and fell off balance. On one pass, Noba landed with a plop on the end of their tree-root table. He righted himself, rubbing his tail that took the brunt of his fall.
“Noba, are you all right?” Lyra asked.
He contorted, holding out his tiny wings, while massaging the bruise. “Noba’s great! Has lots of playmates here. We play hide and seek.”
Cullen chuckled, “These tree keepers are almost your size, at least the largest ones.”
“I’ll bet they’re good at hiding,” Lyra added.
“Noba’s bigger than most, so they do the hiding.” The pseudodragon took a hop closer. “They have fun games like chasing bees back into skeps. They like Noba’s wings for that.”
Cullen tilted his head and gave Ivri a questioning look.
“Oh. We’re in charge of more than just our assigned trees. We raise butterflies and bees too. This ceremony of spring fools them into coming out too soon. The nights are still cold, so we must drive them back inside at dusk,” the keeper replied.
“Ysmena told me how you feed magic to the caterpillars before they cocoon in your trees. Later, those butterflies glitter. But I didn’t know about the hives. This must be your honey.” She lifted a muffin dripping with golden syrup. “There’s more flavors than just sweetness. Really good! Seems like I’ve had this before when I was a girl.”
Ivri bowed her head. “Lady Lyra’s appreciation warms my heart. That’s from my own special hive.”
While Lyra talked with the keeper, Kenzo swept by and swiped the muffin from her hand with his talons. He perched above them and lifted it to his beak. “I overhead the talk and wanted a sample…after all that hard work shooing bees.” He tore it apart and dropped half down to Noba who gobbled it up and licked drips of honey off his snout.
Lyra laughed, watching Noba’s long tongue lap his face clean while the owl’s feathers stuck together so badly that he couldn’t fly.
“Looks like my assis
tant has some serious preening to do.” Cullen raised his mug in Kenzo’s direction and chuckled. “Better abstain from the ale until you get yourself unstuck.”
He hopped on the limb to turn his back, muttering, “Pseudodragons always have it easier. Hmpf.”
After everyone had their fill of another round of honey-drenched muffins, and other diners cleared their places, the band kicked up the tempo and volume of their music.
A brave or drunken male tree spirit bowed to Lyra. “I’m Willan. Would Lady Lyra please honor me for a jig?”
With a smile, Lyra accepted and followed him onto the oval dance floor. She looked around to see how the locals danced and moved her feet in a similar pattern.
Willan beamed with a grin that lit his whole face. He dazzled both Lyra and the crowd with his fancy footwork, spinning in front of his partner. He led her once around the dance floor to where Cullen stood.
“May I cut in, Master Willan?” the wizard said with a bow.
The tree keeper thanked Lyra.
“I don’t think I understand the step,” Cullen said, sweeping her into his arms. “This will have to do.”
“As long as you hold me tight, I don’t care,” Lyra replied, enjoying the spark in his blue eyes and the hopeful emotion she read through their touch.
“Let’s dance to the side so you can find a place to read the sky.”
From the edge of the clearing, they walked a short way down the wide path that they traveled before, leading to the portal for Terza.
Lyra scanned the sky. “I can’t find Hamal. I can’t even feel its energy, so I know it’s above the horizon.” She rotated ninety degrees. “There is Regulus. I connected easily with its fire power coursing into my aura.” She shook her head. “But, like I expected, there’s no stored knowledge about my ancestors, the Scribes before me.”
She pulled the bottle of celestial dew from her bag. After opening it, the liquid gave a faint glow. She took a sniff, then swallowed the contents. A flash of power rushed through her mind. She felt the fiery spirit of Elisabeth’s determined path as the first Scribe took on a bewildering, new challenge. Moments later, when the wave of power began to diminish, Lyra lowered her gaze and whispered to Cullen, “Everyone tells me my power is strong like Elisabeth’s. My gut tells me she would fight, not retreat into Aria. My guess will be Nareene.”
Enchanted Bookstore Legends (5-book complete epic fantasy romance box set) Page 73
