by C. K. Rieke
“No, I wouldn’t say I witnessed any weakness, unless you count vanity as one. You know— they were strong, majestic, the whole room stopped when they appeared and spoke. They’re the Six, they could kill you with just a whisper.”
“You saw all of them? All six?”
She nodded. “All six, together.”
He grunted, seeming to be deep in thought.
“What was Dânoz like,” he asked.
“Like a king, it was obvious, at least to me, that the others knew he was their champion. I doubt any of them would second guess him as a ruler. His word is law, so to speak. His voice was like thunder, his face was chiseled like stone. It was surreal to see him before me, as he was the source of all this pain and torment in these lands, yet, back then when I saw him, he seemed to inspire. Inspire— and terrify.”
“I could understand that. I’ve spent my entire life hating them, despising them for what they did to my ancestors— my family. But, I understand that to defeat such an overwhelming power, you need to treat it with a certain amount of respect. Because if you underestimate an opponent like that, you have no chance. You’ll die. The Six not only killed off the dragons, but they beat our best. They rule over ever part of these sands. To take them down is nearly impossible. You know that right?”
“Yes.” As much as I don’t care to think about it, to win against the Six is impossible. Our only chance would be to even the odds closer to the days of the Serpentine Wars. We’d need a score of dragons to fight them. Our most powerful weapon against them is a girl not even old enough to walk the sands alone. I remember them. I’ve looked in Dânoz’s wild, piercing blue eyes. I’ve seen the face of death. The five of us, walking the sands; hungry, thirsty, and fatigued stand no chance against those that need not sleep or drink. Against the gods, we are weak. “You’ve had a lifetime to think about such things. What do you think are best chances are? I’m only newly converted to this side, I’ve only thought about it very little compared to you. Remember, I fought for them until meeting her.”
“That’s why I’ve come,” Burr said, casting his eye’s gaze onto the young girl carried by Roren, who glanced back over at Burr. Roren was listening. “The prophecies are all we have to go on now. She has to bring forth the dragons to these lands. The Knights will return to their former strength once the eyes of thousands witness the wings of a dragons ripping through the sky.”
“So, what you’re saying is this— mind my ignorance,” Lilaci said, “I just want to understand— Kera is going to bring back an army of dragons, then the Knights of the Whiteblade are going to return. Then, another war is going to go on with the Six? So, all in all, we’re talking about another war that’s going to last years? A war that will rival the Serpentine War?”
“That is what I foresee, yes.”
Lilaci began to shake her head, heavy in thought. We are talking about a war that could take a decade to fight. Kera’s going to be wrapped up in a war that’ll be written about by scholars for generations to come. I don’t want her growing up in war, we’ve got to fulfill her prophecy and then I’ll get her to safety. Too many innocent will die, we’ve got to let the dragons go straight to the gods, and they can settle it. We don’t need an army of Whiteblades. “No, no, no. That’s going to take too long. Too many are going to die. Even with an army, there’s a chance they could still lose to the gods. Kera would be in danger far too long.”
“What other choice is there?” he asked gruffly. “We don’t even know how she’s supposed to do what she’s supposed to do. She not bringing them back out of thin air. It could take her entire lifetime to fulfill her end.”
Lilaci went silent in thought again. An entire lifetime? What kind of life would that be for her? My dream for her of her living a life as a normal child in a nice world would never come true. She’ll be hunted her entire life. Our best chance would be for her to fulfill the prophecy quickly and be done with it. Why would the gods go after her if she was no more of the threat? What if she had done what she needed to do, then walked away? Who am I fooling- who is more spiteful than the gods. They’d kill her for nothing more than in the name of revenge. The gods have to die. That is the only way.
“There is something else to consider,” Burr said. “And this much I say with a heavy heart.”
“Yes,” Lilaci said, and she noticed Roren’s ears perk up.
“I told you I’d tell you more of our encounter before we arrived at the Dune of the Last Dragon. The Garen Pixies.”
“You’re ready to tell me of their curse?” Lilaci said, with a sarcastic tone. “I have little interest in old wives’ tales of the sort. If it was that important, or with any truth to it, you would’ve told us about it instantly.”
“I didn’t tell you about it then, because there was no instant threat,” he said. “The curse is upon those who accepted the pixie’s third whisper. The tale of the Garen Pixie goes like this—
A gentle fog rolls through the night
When the desert’s breath whispers of pixie’s flight
The Garen’s wings flutter with soft perfume
Three tellings like butterflies in young cocoon
One whisper is free for lucky ears
A fortune the listener’s heart already hears
The second whisper makes deep heartaches
A dark road is foretold, with dire stakes
The third, which words the hearer must accept
Dig deep into the soul, weeping and wept
For once the third is said,
The hearer is cursed with dread
Youth will not wait for age as years pass swift
Old age rushes in, and youth is sent adrift
Once all whispers are said,
A fortune is told, and the hearer will soon be dead.
“That’s uplifting,” Fewn said after the old man had finished. “Don’t believe that foolishness. It’s an old tale made up to scare little children.”
“It’s true,” Burr said forcefully. “Old age will come quickly now for you Lilaci, as you listened to the pixie’s final whisper. You don’t have many years left. You need to finish what you’ve started.”
“Have you heard this tale, Roren?” Lilaci asked him. “Is there any truth to this?”
“I’ve heard the tale,” he said. “But I hold no truth to it. I too asked for the final whisper.”
“You fool!” Burr said. “You knew of the curse, and still accepted the third and final whisper?”
“The Order of Drakon doesn’t believe in false prophecies . . . Or curses.”
“Damned be you all!” Burr said. “Do me a favor and don’t tell me what the Garens told you in that cursed last whisper. I want none of what they told you.” Such a superstitious old man. Indeed, he’s come from a different world.
Kera stirred awake in the wake of Burr’s temper flaring.
“What’s wrong?” Kera said in an innocent, sleepy voice.
“Nothing dear,” Fewn said. “Burr was trying to scare Lilaci and Roren by saying they’re cursed by pixies. It’s nothing, you can go back to sleep.”
Kera turned her head and laid her other cheek on Roren’s right shoulder and seemed to fall back into slumber.
Burr scoffed in annoyance. “Does no one heed my warnings? I am not some old fool speaking false truths and old wives’ tales.”
“No,” Roren said. “You’re just an old fool.”
“Well, when old wrinkles creep onto your face and hands in the coming months, we will see who is the fool.”
“If we live that long,” Fewn said.
“Burr,” Lilaci said. “If what you say is true, which I’m hesitant to believe— do you know how to lift the curse?”
“The way to lift the curse is quite simple actually, yet extremely difficult.”
“And what is that?” Lilaci asked.
“The pixies,” Burr answered. “You must kill the pixies that foretold those whispers. That’s the easy part.”
“And
the difficult part?” Fewn asked.
“Finding them.”
“Finding them?” Lilaci asked.
“Yes,” Burr said with a slight smile. “They are pixies after all. How easy do you think it is to find one pixie in all of the Arr? There are a couple of other ways of course to lift the curse.”
“Oh yeah?” Roren chimed in. “What are those? Standing on your head and counting to one-hundred?”
“Dying,” he stared at Roren. “That’s one option.”
Fewn laughed. “Seems a little rash just to lift a curse.”
“The other is,” Burr paused in thought, “and I wouldn’t get your hopes up with this— there’s a potion that can be made and drunk to lift the curse. But finding its ingredients are harder than finding the inflicting pixie.”
“What is so rare about the potion?” Lilaci asked.
“The potion only has three ingredients,” Burr responded. “And each is rarer than the first.”
“What are the ingredients?” Lilaci asked.
“I’ll just tell you the first, so you have a hint as to the difficulty of creating such a potion. The first ingredient is three hairs from a queen’s head.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“I heard the queen tell you the name the king was to give you— that is— if you didn’t fail so miserably in your given task.”
“Yes, she told me,” Veranor said. “I haven’t failed in my task. My task is only yet to be completed.”
The Witch Queen Gorlen eyed Commander Veranor with fiery eyes. “You speak back to me?”
“I’m only saying how I view the situation. You want the girl? I’ll get the girl. The complications that proceeded without my fault or folly I don’t view as a failure.”
“I don’t know if I like the way you are speaking to me now,” Gorlen said. “It is I who tell you how things are.”
“Very well,” he said. “You are one of the Six. I’m not trying to sway your truth.”
She seemed without words for the first time since they’d met.
“After this is all said and done, and I have the girl, I may kill you,” she said.
“I know.”
The two stood side by side, a quarter mile out in the desert, facing north. The Great Oasis of Noruz behind them, the city of Voru placed upon it with the Palace of Erodoran at its epicenter. Strong winds gusted past in the cloudless sky as the sun settled into dusk. Twilight was approaching.
Veranor’s cloak whipped in the wind as the winds threw it harshly at his side. Gorlen’s light silver dress hung elegantly from her curved hips. The wind didn’t dare budge her divine silks.
“Do you know in which direction the girl is?” Veranor asked.
Gorlen stepped forward one pace and lifted her chin into the breeze. She swayed her head from side to side, sniffing, smelling deeply. Her head cocked to one side, letting her long blond hair fall over her right shoulder. She turned around with a wide smile, her white teeth showing, and her sky-blue eyes glittering with white lights. “Yes. I know where the bitch is.”
Part V
Curse and Betrayal
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The sky was aa blue as the clearest pool of water in a shallow well. A single puffy cloud hung high, seemingly stuck, not moving. The sun beat down on them, it was inescapable. There wasn’t a single thing to cast a shadow long enough to break its direct light. The linens they wore protected their skin from the savage burns one would get from only a few hours underneath the sun’s rays. Clothing never really helped with the heat though. Sure, thin cloth or linen would allow a breeze to blow against the skin easier. But with no winds, no breeze, the air was thick with heat. Anything within only thirty paces showed the shimmer of heat in the air. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide from its persistence. The mountains in the distance made the searing heat almost worse. They knew once they arrived in the foothills, there would be many places to escape the sun’s heat, but the mountains were many miles away still.
Lilaci, head down, veiled underneath the overhanging of her hood, squinted her eyes to restrict the bright light reflecting off of the sands. She also rubbed a bit of dirt underneath her eyes, dirt she carried in a small pouch way back in the ground beneath the mountain they’d left. The dirt kept the sun from beaming off her light skin into her eyes. She’d rubbed some under Kera’s eyes as well. Lilaci watched her feet trudge across the barren wasteland before the Isoz-Bor Mountain range. Kera scuttled up to walk next to her.
“Lilaci.”
“Yes, Kera.”
“I’m worried about the curse.”
“Oh, you know there’s no curse,” Lilaci said. “That’s all just a made up tale to scare little children.”
“Well, I’m worried. What if it is real? Burr doesn’t seem like the joking type.”
“No . . . He doesn’t. He does seem like the old-fashioned type though. Keep in mind too, he’s been living in the shadows his entire life up until now. Who knows if he even ever met people from outside his Order before.”
Kera looked over at Burr as he walked along the desert sands. “You could say the same about me, maybe I don’t know as much as I think I do about the world.”
“You’re different,” Lilaci said. “You’re a child still.”
Kera went silent, seemingly in thought. “Three hairs from a queen’s head . . .”
“You know . . .” Lilaci said. “I do know a queen.”
“You do?” Kera seemed almost excited by that statement. “Would she give you her hairs?”
“I wouldn’t imagine so,” Lilaci said. “As far as it goes, I shouldn’t say so much that I know a queen. I have met her, and talked to her, but I don’t think I’d get as far as being able to talk to her. The only way I’ll see her again, I’d wager, is if my head was removed from my shoulders.”
“That’s not a nice thing to say.”
“Sorry. But it’s kind of true,” Lilaci said. The only way I’d leave one of the three cities would be in a coffin.
“I suppose the same could be said of me,” Kera said.
“Don’t say that,” Lilaci said. “I prefer to think of you meeting a queen, with the queen on her knees to you.”
“What do you mean?” Kera asked.
“You know, big scary dragon behind you would go a long way to getting people to do things they don’t want to do.”
“You think the egg is still alive? I mean— the baby dragon inside is still alive?” Kera asked in a soft voice.
Lilaci looked down into her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure it is. It had a strong heartbeat.”
“What did it sound like?”
“You know what a regular heartbeat sounds like, right?”
“I think so,” Kera said.
Lilaci reached out and grabbed her arm, so they both stopped. Lilaci knelt to one knee, and opened one arm out wide, and with the other pulled Kera’s head in towards her chest. Roren, walking behind them, paused to watch. Kera leaned her ear in next to her chest. “You hear that?”
Kera nodded, with her head still held tightly against her chest.
“The dragon’s heart was like that, but it beat quicker. It wasn’t like mine— a thud thud, thud thud. It was like a thud thud thud thud thud, beating rapidly like a bird’s wings. It was a strong heartbeat. So yes, I’m sure it’s still alive.”
Kera pulled her head back. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if— when— we get there. All these things I’ve been taught by the ones who raised me. They didn’t tell me enough about how to do the things I’m supposed to do. I only know why I’m here, for that one reason and that one reason only.” She took a deep breath, and then, suddenly she pushed Lilaci in the chest with both hands. Lilaci had to catch herself from falling over. “Why did you accept that third whisper from the Garen Pixie?”
Lilaci was shocked. She’d never seen Kera so mad before. Her face scrunched together, with her eyebrows scorning down.
“I— I didn’t know,” Lilaci said. �
�It all happened so fast.”
“How are we supposed to get a queen’s hairs? Or find that pixie and kill it? What if Burr was right? Maybe we should be looking for that pixie instead of heading towards the egg.”
“Everything is alright, Kera. “No one here has any curse on them. Now are you going to push me again, or can I get up safely now?”
“Don’t be that way,” Kera said. “It’s not fair for you to only worry for me. Remember that for you to keep me safe, you have to be around. If the curse is real, we have to find a way to lift it. Promise me. I’m not taking another step further until you promise me.”
“Fine, fine,” Lilaci laughed. “If the curse is real, then we will find a way to lift it. You satisfied?”
Kera sneered at her. Then she turned and walked away, back towards Fewn and Burr who were well ahead of them then.
“The girl’s upset with us,” Roren said.
Lilaci watched her run under the hot sun towards the two. “What if she’s right, Roren?” She looked over at the dark-skinned man with the bald head and deep blue eyes.
“Ah— rubbish,” he said. “There’s no way I believe in that kind of make-believe.”
“But . . . What if they’re right? Kera’s safety is number one. But we can’t well protect her if it’s true.”
“Bah!” Roren dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “Don’t tell me you believe what the old man spouts out too. He’s got no sense about him. Sure, he saved us, and he’s sharp like the devil with that bow— but come on now. Three hairs? From a queen’s head? I’ve never heard such a hoax. His father probably told him that story to scare him when he was a child. Now, here we are, talking about it. Do yourself a favor and keep focused on the mission at hand. This is going to be a day by day quest, with her out in the open like this. Not to mention two fugitive ex-Scaethers and the only living last Knight of the Whiteblade.”
