The two dragons met in midair, circling each other, before Ferno swooped down. Zollin slid off of Ferno’s back and the green dragon moved back, so that Zollin could speak to the smaller, black dragon. Zollin had gotten used to being around Ferno and even the other dragons of Brianna’s pride, but approaching a strange dragon was difficult. It made his heart race, even though he knew he could defend himself if the dragon attacked.
“My name is Zollin,” he said. “I’m Brianna’s mate,” he added.
Blastom bowed low and an image of Brianna appeared in Zollin’s mind. He felt a little guilty for saying that he was Brianna’s mate. That wasn’t exactly true; they were promised to one another, but they had decided to wait to get married. Still, Zollin knew that dragons didn’t really understand love or marriage.
“We have need of your help,” Zollin said.
Ferno flew off in search of food, while Zollin explained the need. Blastom was reluctant to get involved. The black dragon preferred solitude. Zollin finally had to relay the fact that Brianna would be in danger to persuade Blastom to come south with them. They made camp together that night. Ferno returned to the camp with a large mountain goat which was given to Blastom. Zollin lay awake late into the night, staring up at the stars, snuggled close to Ferno for warmth.
The stars were so bright and clear in the highlands that Zollin felt he could reach out and touch them. He was reminded of when he and Brianna had trekked into the mountains to find Bartoom. They had spent many of those nights huddled together, staring up at the stars. He wondered if Brianna was looking at the same stars as he was.
The next morning, the three travelers set off together. Their party grew day by day. They soon had six dragons in total, although most were small dragons. Zollin had also found several giants and sent them to gather their kinsmen and march south. The giants were huge and slow, both in movement and speech, but they were true to their word and eager to help. It took Zollin a long time to find the opening in the mountains where the Dwarves of the Oliad clan lived. They were flying low, looking for the opening when Zollin felt the elusive presence of the strange creature that called itself Aberration.
Zollin knew that the creature would never come close to the pride of dragons. So he sent them in search of food while he levitated down to the steep valley between the towering mountain peaks. Then, he sent his magic out toward the creature, hoping that the beast would come to him. It did, although it moved stealthily and cautiously. Zollin waited patiently and seeing the creature was once again a shock to his senses. Aberration was large, bigger than a Shire horse. It had the body of a great bull with a slick black hide, the legs and split hooves of a goat, and its head was that of an eagle. Aberration also had a long, leathery tail that it could wield like a whip.
“Aberration,” Zollin called out when the creature came in sight. “It is me, Zollin. Do you recall me?”
“Wizard,” screeched Aberration. The creature could speak, but the voice was high pitched and the beak had trouble conveying words clearly.
“That’s right,” Zollin said. “I’m a wizard, and I need your help.”
Aberration moved closer, the great eagle eyes shifting all around as if it suspected a trap of some kind.
“Aberration does not help wizards.”
“I understand,” Zollin said. “I know you have been mistreated in the past, but I have no desire to control you or hurt you. I have come to seek the aid of all the free people here in the north. I’m trying to gather a magical army. I’m afraid a very dark sorceress has unleashed an evil army on the land. If we don’t stand together, there will be no way to stop them.”
“Witches and Wizards don’t concern me anymore,” Aberration said. “I want only peace and solitude.”
“I understand that and respect it,” Zollin said. “If you choose to stay here I won’t blame you, but alone I can’t stop the army of monsters that will make their way here eventually. We must all stand together to stem the tide of evil that is rising against us.”
“I am evil. I am a soulless creature, created by your kind, but there are no others of my kind. Why should I help you?”
“I do not think you are evil, Aberration, even if you were created for evil purposes. You threw off the yoke of slavery and came here to find peace. That isn’t evil, in fact, that is noble. Come with me, and you will find that not all humans are callous, hateful people.”
“It is not my place,” the creature said.
“No, it isn’t, but I need your help.”
“You are not mine to worry over. I cannot help you.”
“I disagree and it makes my heart sad that you feel that way. We are marching south, across Yelsia, and the Rejee desert. We will make a stand on the southern side of the Walheta Mountains. If you change your mind, join us there. I would stand with you, unashamed and proud.”
Aberration cocked its head to one side, eyeing Zollin warily, then, like a flash it disappeared, its tail snapping behind it and cracking like a whip. Frustration set in and Zollin had difficulty not falling into despair. King Ricard was reluctant to believe Zollin; a handful of small dragons had stepped in to help, but in the end, Zollin feared it wouldn’t be enough. He tried to encourage himself; he could look for the giants to come to their aid, but it all felt like too little to make a difference.
He set off on foot, limping through the rocky ravines and levitating over bounders and up steep cliffs. He could have called out for Ferno, but the truth was he wanted to be alone. He didn’t want to put on a brave face or pretend everything was okay. To the south, an army of monsters was on the loose. Zollin knew the Five Kingdoms would never be the same, and he couldn’t stave off the feelings of guilt that it was all somehow his fault.
Snow began to fall as he trudged along. The scar tissue in his leg ached from the cold and his clothes were soon wet through from the snow. The sky overhead was dark gray and then a harsh wind began to rattle through the canyons. Before Zollin knew what was happening, a winter storm turned the world a dirty white. There was so much snow blowing all around him that Zollin couldn’t see further than one arm’s length.
He knew he had to find shelter to ride out the storm. Ferno could find him possibly, but the big dragon could also crash into the side of a mountain in the white out conditions. He hoped the big, green dragon would wait until the storm passed to come looking for Zollin.
He stumbled along for a few minutes; fear seemed to take on the voice of the wind which was howling around him. Then he remembered that he didn’t have to see; he could let his magic see for him. He made a bubble shield around his body that blocked the wind and snow. Then, he took a moment to collect himself. He hadn’t realized how cold he’d gotten or how much the wind had made him lose all sense of time and direction. He took several deep breaths and then let his magic flow out of the bubble to map the terrain around him. It was hard to block out the snow, which was frozen into clumps and was blown in a swirling maelstrom by the wind. But after a few moments of effort, he located what he was looking for. It was small cave, little more than a crack in the rock about thirty feet up the side of a very steep incline. The wind and snow were blocked and at the very least, Zollin knew he would be dry and sheltered from the elements inside the cave.
He closed his eyes and focused his magic. Levitating himself had become almost second nature, but it still required effort, especially with the wind blowing so hard that he could hardly control his ascent. He moved slowly, keeping the magical bubble around him so that the effects of the wind wouldn’t wreck his concentration. He landed just on the narrow ledge outside the cave. The rock was already slick with ice and snow. Zollin let the magical bubble collapse and was immediately buffeted so strongly by the wind he feared he would be blown off the side of the mountain.
The cave opening was small and Zollin had to crawl inside. The relief from the wind and snow was so strong that Zollin didn’t immediately notice the strong odor inside the cave. It was a musky scent and when Zollin notice
d it he felt fear stroking his neck again. The interior of the cave was pitch black, and the howling wind just outside blocked out the sound of the growl from the animal who had already taken shelter in the cave. Zollin tried to ease out of the cave, but the big mountain lion pounced before Zollin could get out.
Chapter 12
All Zollin saw was a flash of tawny hide, and then he was falling, spinning, and crashing down the side of the mountain with the winter storm blocking out even the sound of his own screams. When he finally came to a rolling stop at the bottom of the ravine, he collected himself. Nothing was broken, he was only shaken up. His magical bubble shield had held back the heavy beast, but the ferocious cat’s attack had knocked him out of the cave and down the mountain. He was rattled but not seriously hurt. He got slowly back to his feet, and then he was knocked forward again. This time he summersaulted and landed on his stomach. His magic churned like a roaring fire inside him, stoked by his fear and by the incredible weight on top of him. Somehow the shield had held, but the mountain lion was on top of Zollin, biting and clawing in hopes of tearing him to shreds.
Pin pricks of light danced around the edges of Zollin’s vision, and he felt the searing pain of his magic breaking through a weakness in his containment. He realized that he was losing control. He let a small shock of blue magical energy jolt the mountain lion, which immediately jumped away with a snarling roar loud enough to be heard over the howling wind.
Zollin rolled over and was just getting to his feet when he saw another blur, and the mountain lion was on him again. The magical bubble was shrinking, and the lion’s razor sharp claws and teeth edging nearer and nearer his throat. This time, Zollin lashed out angrily; his magic batting the lion away like a toddler boxing with a toy. Zollin stood up, feeding magic into his shield. There was a roar and another lion pounced on Zollin, but this time he didn’t fall. Instead, the shield held, and it was the lion that twisted and fell away. Zollin sent a ball of fire rushing toward the cat. The lion roared again, this time in distress as the fire singed its fur and burned away its wiry whiskers.
Zollin let his magic flow out. There were two cats; the large male was lying sprawled against the rocks, and its back was broken. The female had backed away, but was still looking for an opportunity to strike. Zollin immediately levitated himself back up the mountain, away from the vicious lions. He used his magic to navigate back to the cave. Zollin crawled into the dark space again, breathing heavy and trying to calm the raging storm his magic had become inside him. He took several deep breaths and then lit a small flame to illuminate the cave. The small circle of light didn’t reach the recesses of the cave, but in the darkness Zollin could see small eyes glowing.
He fed magic into the flame until the cave was illuminated. The lion clubs began mewling and Zollin sighed. He felt terrible that he had killed the male mountain lion. He knew the big cat wasn’t dead yet, but with its back broken it was only a matter of time. The lions had only been protecting their family, doing exactly what Zollin would have done himself. He extinguished the flame and went back out into the raging storm. It took a moment to find the injured lion in the blizzard. The female was gone, probably thinking that Zollin had killed her mate and would soon finish off their cubs as well. There was nothing he could do to bring the female lion back, so he focused his magic on the wounded male lion, letting his healing power mend the lion’s severed spinal cord. It took a long time and Zollin was afraid the lion would freeze to death before he finished, but when he was done, the big cat climbed wearily to its feet.
Zollin sat back, his head just under the cave opening, his heart pounding in his ears. Healing the cat from a distance was taxing, and his stamina was almost gone. He let his magic flow out once more, trying to find the female lion, but she was gone. Zollin felt horrible, but there was nothing more he could do. He took a deep breath and slid down the icy mountainside, using his magic to buffer the rough terrain from his backside. He then levitated the terrified mountain lion to the cave. He waited just long enough to ensure that the big cat went inside to the bawling cubs.
He then stumbled on through the storm, looking again for a place to escape the weather. It took almost an hour. Despite his bubble shield, his clothes were covered with ice and snow, and his fingers and toes stung with the early signs of frostbite. He finally found a small shelter; it was little more than an alcove, a depression in the side of the mountain. He was forced to lie down and roll into the small depression. The rock around him was cold but dry. The wind howled and the snow blew, but he was safe in the small hideout. He used magic to heat the rocks, letting his power flow down into the ancient stone until he could feel the tiny bits of matter and their spinning electrical charges. With a little prompting, the mountain’s most basic building blocks began to speed up, spinning and shaking, creating heat in the stone until Zollin felt like he was in an oven. Then, warm at last, his clothes steaming from the heat of the rock around him, he fell asleep.
It was dark when Zollin woke up. He was hungry and thirsty and for a long moment he couldn’t remember where he was. Then he recalled the snow storm. It must have died out because he couldn’t hear the howl of the wind. The stone around him held only the faintest hint of heat, and Zollin guessed he’d been asleep for around six hours. He let his magic flow out of the small cave and as he had guessed, the space was nearly enclosed with snow. He sent out a wave of magic that exploded through the snow, blowing icy chunks far from the cave and letting a wave of cold, fresh air circulate into the small hideout.
Zollin crawled out of the tiny shelter and looked up. The stars were bright overhead, which meant the clouds were gone. The temperature had plummeted and was well below freezing. Zollin knew he needed to build a fire and stay warm until morning, but the cave he’d sheltered in was just too small. He held up a hand and conjured a small flame. The light danced and glistened off the snow all around him. He began trudging through the snow and soon came to a flat area where several small shrubs were struggling to grow in the rocky terrain. Zollin used magic to melt the snow and then pulled his dagger out to cut the shrubs. He didn’t need to build a fire, his magic was more than capable of keeping him warm and cooking the food that was in his pack. But Zollin was beginning to feel lonely, and he craved the cheerful familiarity of a fire.
He used his magic to pull the water out of the wood, and then he arranged the fuel into a small pyramid and used his magic to ignite the fire. Soon, bright yellow flames danced, and he warmed his hands and feet. His pack was full of dried meat, fish, and a few vegetables. He didn’t have proper utensils, so he simply warmed some of the meat over the fire and ate it. He drank water from one of the canteens, before filling it with snow. Then he lay down, wrapping his cloak around him and dozing for a few more hours.
The sun came up and woke Zollin. His fire was out, and he was stiff with cold. He stood up and looked around. The mountains all looked the same to him, but he could get the general sense of direction from the sun rising in the east. He moved slowly through the thick snow, neither trying to make good time nor running the risk of exhausting himself. He sucked on some salty meat as he walked, using his magic to help him navigate the steeper terrain. At one point, he let his magic flow out in all directions, including up. He wanted to make contact with Ferno and the other dragons, but there was nothing, not even a mountain goat or the small mice that made their homes under the fallen rocks in the valleys.
Zollin did his best not to let his loneliness turn into depression. He’d been on his own before, in fact, most of his childhood was spent alone. His father had always been busy, and Zollin had few friends in the village where he had grown up. But the last few weeks with Ferno had formed a link between man and dragon. Zollin felt the ache of the big, green beast’s absence.
It was almost dark before Zollin felt the hint of a familiar magic. He had been sending out his magic hourly, hoping to find something among the towering mountains. What he found was both surprising and exciting. He couldn’t be
positive, but he sensed the rhythm of the mountain dwarves. The dwarves used a pounding, pulsing type of music, mostly played on unique drums, to work to. The beat of the drums would be accented by the sounds of chisels on stone and hammers on steel. Zollin couldn’t feel the dwarves themselves, but he could feel the vibration of their music in the solid rock of the mountains.
It was almost midnight before Zollin’s magic touched on one of the little miners. He followed the elusive vibrations and finally, as the moon set and Zollin’s tired feet were starting to stumble on the rough terrain, he found a small opening in the rock face. The opening was sheltered by larger boulders which appeared to have fallen down the mountainside, but in truth, the large rocks were strategically placed.
Zollin trudged to the opening and listened. The sounds of the dwarfish music were faint, but he could hear it. He stuck his head into the cave and shouted.
“Hello!” he bellowed. “Hello down there!”
There was silence for a moment, and then he heard the grunting of a dwarf approaching.
“Who goes?” said the dwarf in a deep voice.
“Zollin, Wizard of Yelsia.”
“Never heard of you,” said the dwarf.
Zollin could hear the small, booted feet scuttling away from the opening of the cave.
“Wait!” he shouted. “I’m friends with Babaz, chief of the Oliad clan. And also of Jute, head of the Yel clan.”
The footsteps returned. Zollin waited, straining his eyes in the darkness. Finally, he saw a shadowy face appear. He couldn’t make out the specific details, but he recognized the busy hair and thick beard.
“The Yel clan is far to the south,” said the voice, “but I know Babaz. I suppose you’re going to tell me that you’re the wizard who repaired the Stepping Stones.”
“The bridges deep in the mountains,” Zollin said. “Yes, I went through with Babaz and repaired what I could. I also stayed with the Jaq clan. Hammert is now my friend.”
Five Kingdoms: Book 06 - Evil Tide Page 11
