"How can I ever thank you!?" Sandra exclaimed when the emotion finally began to subside.
"No thanks necessary. I am just glad I could help," Myranda answered.
"No, no. I won't hear it. Look at you. You need clothes. You need food. You need rest. Here, my bed is just in the other room. Go, sleep," Sandra said, leading the wobbly healer through a door.
"I really couldn't. We've too much to do. I wouldn't dream of putting you in that kind of danger," Myranda replied, trying her best not to look longingly at the bed.
"There is no one for half a day in any direction. Sleep. I owe you that at least," she urged.
It took a bit more insistence, but Myranda finally relented, dropping into sleep almost the instant her head met the rare luxury of a pillow.
"Now what can I do for you? Anything! And not because I am afraid," Sandra said, her eyes looking upon Ivy as if for the first time.
"Really? Well, if you are going to make food for Myranda, I could use a bit more for myself. And there are the potatoes for Myn," Ivy hazarded.
"Oh . . . oh, yes, yes. The dragon. We shall see to it she has all she can eat. That is the one item I can offer an abundance of," Sandra said.
A moment later Ivy was following a bundled-up Sandra down into the cellar. A dusty bag bulging with potatoes was hefted onto Ivy's shoulder and the pair made off toward the barn. After pausing only briefly at the door, Sandra pushed it aside. Had Ivy been thinking, she would have asked to enter first. The sight of an unfamiliar human stirred the anxiously waiting dragon quickly to her feet in a blur of motion that would have startled the steadiest of minds.
Myn looked at Sandra with the deep stare that a predator reserves for its prey, dark thoughts of what this stranger may have done to the others fueling a primal fire--a fire that would have burst forth had Ivy not teetered into view with a bag that had the dry, starchy smell of that rarest of treats. The anger dropped away, but not the suspicion. The enormous eyes locked themselves on Sandra, who would swear that the gaze was cutting straight through her. Ivy fumbled the bag open and thrust some of the contents into the shaking hands of her host.
A look of hunger that did little to ease Sandra's paralyzed nerves came across Myn's face. She edged closer to the human who stood transfixed by the gaze. When she was near enough, the forked tongue slipped from her mouth and deftly plucked the treats from her trembling grip. After savoring the all-too-brief flavor, she looked expectantly at her host, who hurriedly held the bag open. The bag was empty in moments, a look of satisfaction rolling over the surprisingly expressive face of the beast. The massive head lowered down to the ground and slid forward until it was directly in front of Sandra.
"She wants you to scratch her head," Ivy whispered.
After a few moments of convincing her unwilling limbs, she managed to do so. She was rewarded with a rumbling from deep within the dragon. In another creature, it might have been a purr. The bone-rattling sound rose to a crescendo as she found her way to a very precise place above Myn's eyes. When Sandra was through, Myn lifted her head, gave one more glance, and retreated to the center of the barn to settle down comfortably again.
When her heart stopped pounding, Sandra turned to Ivy. "There must be a story behind all of this!"
Chapter 19
Myranda pulled herself reluctantly from the bed. At the edge of the shrouded window was the dying light of the day. They would have to be on their way again. She fumbled about in the dark and unfamiliar room until she found the door, opening it to be greeted by the warm, inviting smell of food simmering below. As she made her way down the stairs, she found Ivy and Sandra chatting at the table like old friends. Set out on the table was by no means a feast, but as the first meal she'd seen in ages that wasn't hastily cooked over a meager flame or served by guards, it was perfect.
"You really didn't have to--" Myranda began.
"Oh, hush. I've heard the whole story. I'm not sure I believe all of it . . ." Sandra began.
"Hey!" Ivy objected.
". . . but I certainly don't believe everything the Alliance has said either," she continued. "I don't know if you are the Chosen or a group of traitors, but you have done something for me that even the Alliance Army couldn't. For that, at least, I owe you the benefit of the doubt. And a hot meal."
A hot meal it was, and a good one. It featured things like fresh bread, wine, mugs, and plates. Things Myranda had forgotten were supposed to be a part of mealtime. She ate heartily, savoring the flavors as much as she could. It might be the last real meal she would have for some time. As she ate, she and Sandra spoke.
"You . . . you work with The Red Shadow," she said.
"I do," Myranda admitted.
"Then you are criminals," Sandra said gravely.
"We do what we have to do. If that makes us criminals, so be it," Myranda said.
"But he is a killer. Knowing what little I do about you, I cannot imagine you would willingly help him," Sandra said.
"I cannot speak for what he has done in the past, but he is dedicated to the task at hand," Myranda explained.
Sandra stared at her, considering the answer. Myranda took a final bite of the cobbler that had attracted Ivy to begin with. To taste such a divine concoction at a time like this made her feel like a prisoner eating her last meal.
"Where will you go now?" she asked.
"I've two . . . three more friends that I need to reunite with," Myranda said, Deacon flitting across her mind. "I will find them."
"I . . . I cannot believe that I am saying this . . . but I wish you the best. I hope that you find your way to a solution that will spare our soil any more blood, and I hope that you find it soon. The north needs people like you. You have compassion. You are a healer. And the country is suffering," Sandra said.
"I shall do my best," Myranda said, standing up from the table.
Sandra also stood.
"Before you go, at least take a cloak," Sandra insisted.
She walked over to the hook upon which it hung. A cloud of dust billowed into the air as she shook it clean.
"You've done so much already, I couldn't--" Myranda replied.
"It belongs to my younger brother. He left for the front a few months ago. If giving it to you means he comes home to find it missing, I don't think I will mind the scolding," she said earnestly.
Myranda took the garment from her and the two shared a hug. Sandra turned to Ivy.
"Goodbye, Ivy. I am sorry for how I treated you," she said, opening her arms.
Ivy pounced upon her, offering up a more enthusiastic hug than Sandra had been expecting.
"It's okay. You didn't know any better. Sorry for scaring you," the playful creature said.
"It is all right," Sandra assured her.
With that, the two heroes set out, Sandra by their side. When they reached the doors, their host stopped them.
"Myranda," Sandra said. "If they come to me, I will tell them you were here. I won't keep this a secret."
"Do what you think is right. That is all we are doing," Myranda replied.
Sandra pulled the doors open. Myn stood, her eyes filling with excitement and relief as her two friends appeared. Myranda offered a friendly scratch on the head. Myn offered a raspy tongue on the cheek in return. The dragon looked to Sandra with a vague look of recognition followed by a gaze that instantly made it clear to the farmer that she should be holding another bag of potatoes. Ivy scrambled onto Myn's back.
"Are you sure you want to ride there? We will be flying again," Myranda warned.
"I'll close my eyes. I don't want to be asleep if something happens," Ivy replied, wrapping her arms tightly about the dragon's neck.
Myranda climbed atop Myn, taking her place just behind Ivy. Sandra stepped aside and held the doors open. A few powerful strides and one mighty leap later and the heroes were soaring into the crisp night air. In moments, the massive form was nothing more than the quiet flap of leathery wings. A moment later, even that was gone.
<
br /> Sandra walked slowly back to her home. For the first time in months, the veil of sadness was gone. For the first time in years, she felt something else. Hope.
#
High above the frozen ground, Ivy was clutching Myn tightly enough to make even a dragon take notice. She was trembling, her breath coming in swift, terrified hisses and leaving in quiet whimpers. A blue aura struggled every few moments to flicker to life, but Ivy managed to push the fear deeper inside.
"Ivy, you need to calm down. Breathe slowly," Myranda urged.
"I can't. I can't. How much longer? Say we're landing soon!" Ivy squealed in terror.
"We will be flying all night. I'm not certain where we are headed yet," Myranda replied.
Ivy responded with a louder whimper and a flash of blue.
"Ivy. You are in no danger. Myn would never let you fall," Myranda said.
The word "fall" shook Ivy, and she clenched her eyes even tighter. This would not do. It was true what she'd said earlier. If something happened, it was important she be awake--but to have her in abject terror would do no good at all.
"Ivy, do you trust me?" Myranda asked.
Ivy nodded stiffly.
"And do you trust Myn?"
She nodded again.
"Then open your eyes," Myranda requested.
"But . . ." Ivy objected.
"Ivy . . . it will be all right," she said softly.
Ivy braced herself and fought her eyes open, momentarily letting the fear through to the surface. She was greeted first with nothing. Just a cold, black abyss all around her. The flare of blue began to fade. Slowly, she gazed upward. The clouds were close. So close she felt as though she could touch them. The moon was nothing but a pale glow behind them. She looked down. Her head felt like it was spinning. It was the ground she was looking at, but she'd never imagined it would look like this. The fear fell far into the back of her mind, pushed aside by the very same sense of wonder and beauty that had struck Myranda on her first flight. She leaned aside to get a better look, then shifted quickly to see what the other side offered.
"It's . . . beautiful," she whispered.
Her wide eyes darted all over the spectacle, eager to take in as much as she could. The fear was still there, but it was tempered by exhilaration and discovery into something different. Something new. She turned her eyes to the clouds.
"Can . . . can we go higher?" Ivy asked.
"Well, Myn?" Myranda asked with a smile.
The dragon angled herself toward the sky and started to climb. The clouds drew nearer, then suddenly the world vanished as they drifted inside. There was nothing but gray in all directions, and the tingle of suspended particles of ice danced across their skin. A few moments later, Myn emerged from the top, trailing a few streamers of mist behind her. She may as well have traveled to another world. Below them, the clouds stretched out as far as the eye could see, like a stormy gray sea with cresting waves frozen in place. Above was the sky. Not the dismal blanket with rare patches of starlight that Myranda knew as the sky, but the true sky. A field of stars, crystal-clear and sparkling.
Myranda had never looked upon a cloudless night sky, but she'd dreamed of it. Even her imagination paled in comparison to the jewel-studded eternity before her. And the moon. She'd thought she'd seen it before, but she'd been wrong. What she had seen could not be the same glorious, mottled, ivory disc that hung overhead. It was like polished marble, and it gleamed with a brilliance that seemed to rival the sun.
Ivy's mouth hung open in awe, the dazzling sight sparkling in her eyes. Myranda was not blind to the beauty, but to Ivy it was so much more. Her keen eyes traced marvelous patterns on the moon's surface. Her mind, attuned to the finest nuances of art in all of its forms, was buzzing with inspiration. It was almost too much for her to bear.
"I never could have dreamed of anything so wonderful . . ." Ivy managed in a hushed voice.
Myranda reluctantly closed her eyes. She had a job to do. Now that Ivy was calm, it was time to choose a direction. Soaring through the icy sky on the back of a dragon would not have been her first choice as a place to meditate, but it would do. Myn was gliding smoothly and easily, and but for the rushing wind, she could not have asked for more tranquil surroundings. A night of proper rest and a decent meal had served her well. A staff in hand, even the D'karon one, was a help as well. She sifted over its enchantments one last time, hopeful of something that might help her find the others, and wary of something that might help the D'karon find her. Finding nothing she could identify as useful or dangerous, she set her mind to the task as she had before.
The cold air and howling wind slowly drifted away as her concentration deepened. The galaxy of stars above vanished and a duplicate seemed to appear below as the tiny burning embers of the souls of her people revealed themselves to her. Briefly, she sought the others as she had before, but it soon proved itself fruitless. She reached into her memory, scouring her discovery of Ivy for clues. In her mind's eye, the world was awash with a mild, warm glow. It was faint, but it was everywhere. Myranda had never been taught precisely what it was. Perhaps it was the spirit of the very world. Perhaps it was the energy of nature. Whatever it was, it was everywhere . . . Everywhere but where Ivy had been.
She turned her gaze to the staff she held. It was dark, darker than its surroundings. So it was with everything that they touched. She changed her search, seeking not light but darkness, not fountains of life but barren voids. If the D'karon were hiding the Chosen, then she would find the residue of their treachery.
It didn't take long. A horrible darkness and soul-searing chill seized her mind. She focused on it. It was far, but that word had come to mean very little now that Myn had returned. Associating true distance to its strange counterpart in the astral plane was far from simple, but it was a task she'd been forced to become adept at. Slowly, the indistinct destination resolved itself to a point on the map. They had their target.
"That way, Myn. More to the east," she guided.
Ivy turned.
"Who did you find?" she asked.
"I don't know," Myranda replied.
"I hope it is Lain . . . or Deacon. Anyone but Ether," Ivy said, sneering at the offending name. "It is a good thing she wasn't around to meet Sandra. It would have been a disaster. I never would have heard the end of it, either."
"You did take a big chance," Myranda reminded her. "You should have stayed hidden."
"I know it. But sometimes I see a house, or a city, and . . . I don't know . . . I feel . . . wistful, I think is the word," Ivy said.
Myranda thought back to the throne room.
"That human, back in the castle. Was she . . ." Myranda began.
"She was," Ivy replied.
"Then should I call you . . ." the wizard attempted.
"No," Ivy shook her head slowly. "That isn't me. Not anymore. I might have been Aneriana once. That was a long time ago. She couldn't have done some of the things I did. She wouldn't have done some of the things I did. I'm Ivy now. For better or worse. I couldn't go back . . . even if I could."
She furrowed her brow at the last cryptic line.
"Do you remember any of it now?" Myranda asked.
"Some of it. Some of it is very clear now. The last part. The rest is still a blur, except here and there," she said sadly. As her fists clenched, she seemed suddenly frantic. "Uh, let’s talk about something else. Quick! When I think about that I think about him and when I think about him I start to feel that way again. The hate. I didn't like that. It wasn't the same as the others. Anger and fear are bad, but at least they throw me aside. I don't even remember it. When I felt the hate, I was still there. I remember it. I just couldn't stop it . . . It was me. I don't think it would have let go if I hadn't touched that sword."
Ivy paused to consider it, shuddering at the thought.
"You know, I don't think you told me about Myn yet. How did she get so big? And what happened to you? Did they get you, too?" Ivy asked.
&nb
sp; Myranda explained her own trials since they parted, and explained to the best of her ability what had happened to Myn. It should have been a quick tale, but Ivy pressed her for details relentlessly, eager for every last nuance. If Myranda hadn't known any better, she would have sworn that she was imitating Deacon. After quite some time, when every last avenue of the ordeal had been explored, Ivy turned to Myn's wing, eagerly seeking a glimpse of the mark she'd failed to notice before.
"Is the mark big? I don't know how I could have missed it. I guess . . ." Ivy began, stopping suddenly.
When she spoke again, it was with a steady, serious voice.
"Myranda. We're close to where we are heading, aren't we?" she asked, with little doubt in her voice.
"Yes. How did you know?" Myranda asked.
"You'll hear it before you see it, I think," Ivy said ominously.
Chapter 20
Myranda listened closely. She heard the wind. Aside from that was the beat of Myn's wings. The dragon seemed to tense beneath her. Something had her on edge. She listened closer. The leathery flapping was different. It sounded as though . . . there was more than one pair of wings at work. Before long, there was no doubt: something else was in the air with them.
"Where is it?" Myranda urged. Her knuckles were white around the stolen staff.
"There," Ivy said, a finger indicating a vague form blotting out a patch of stars ahead. "And there . . . and there."
The wizard trained her eyes on the darkness, searching her memory briefly for something that might cut a bit deeper through the pitch. It didn't make sense. The moon was nearly full. It was more than enough light. She should see the threat as plain as day.
"Do you think if I was to get afraid enough to change it would help at all?" Ivy asked, flickers of blue making their way through despite her best efforts.
The Book of Deacon Anthology Page 113
