by T. G. Ayer
I’m off, take care. See you when I get back.
I shut off the phone before I could get any responses. I didn’t have time for soppy farewells or well-meaning probes for details.
In addition, I’d have no reception in Drakys, so there was little point to keeping the device on. Larsson entered the room, his stride confident and sure. He wasn’t much of a talker but he’d always seemed genial enough.
Now his familiar smile was comforting and he handed me a leather folder without saying a word. The brown folder weighed my hand down and I rifled through it quickly. The paper was thick and expensive, and inside I found official documentation confirming me as the envoy of the Elders of the Supreme High Council. Along with them was a map of Drakys. I appreciated Horner’s forethought, since I had no idea where the portal would deposit me.
There were other papers, but I didn’t want to waste time going through them. I shoved the file into my satchel before depositing the whole bag into my rucksack. I’d packed light for a good reason. I didn’t plan on being in the Dragonlands for very long.
He held out his hand and transported me in one stomach-churning ride straight to the Mendenhall Glacier.
We arrived in a swirling blizzard, snow blowing in every direction. Thankfully I’d come prepared. Thermal underwear and socks, wool-lined waterproof boots, an insulated jacket that even a K2 climber would appreciate, and a fur hat that made me look ridiculous but was satisfyingly warm.
Once there I hardly registered the crunch of the snow beneath my feet, or the bite of the icy wind.
Larsson leaned closer and yelled in my ear, “I’ll return for you every eight hours for the next five days. If you’re not here, then I will go back. If you miss me, wait.”
If he hadn’t been screaming, I would never have heard a word he said.
And then he was gone, leaving me to make my way across the bank of the wide river.
To my left the tongue of the glacier seeped into the edge of the river. I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, my shoes sinking deep into the snow, the biting wind scraping the still tender skin on my cheeks.
I was glad for the goggles, glad for the fur-lined parka. Horner had said that the portal was located, like all other portals, deep in dark water. The only problem was how to access a frozen river.
A small boat sat on the ice lake, frozen in place. It was tied to a short, narrow jetty, and I trudged toward it, taking care not to step too hard on the wooden planks. I had little idea of what icy weather did to wood, and I tried not to think about it cracking beneath my weight and sending me plunging into the ice-cold water.
I focused on the jetty and struggled forward, bent over, fighting the wind, taking one step after the other. It took longer than I’d expected to reach the iced-over mooring line, intending to use my panther strength to lift it off the ice and reveal the water below.
When I looked down I knew that plan wouldn’t work.
But I was determined to try. It was better than having to walk on that unpredictable ice.
I set my rucksack onto the deck, and grabbed hold of the boat’s mooring line. I tugged hard but all I heard was the straining of the fiber of the rope. The boat didn’t budge.
Frustrated, I decided to tackle the problem head-on. I headed to the rickety stairs nailed to the side of the jetty and stepped into the little boat, testing its solidity. It held me, so I jumped. Once, lightly and when that didn’t work, again, using my full weight. The sound of ice cracking all around the edges of the board was welcome. My weight had done the trick.
I leaned over and prodded the ice beyond the boat, comforted to see that it was thick and solid. I stepped out carefully, holding still as an ominous crack sounded.
My heart raced.
Perhaps I wouldn’t need to move the boat at all if I ended up plunging headfirst into the freezing waters.
Or maybe not.
I reached into my pocket and retrieved the portal key. I threw the key up into the air and it came falling back down onto the ice with a loud crack. So much for that.
I retrieved the portal key and stepped closer to the boat. Pulling at my panther strength, I gripped it by its stern and tugged, glad that it was only a small fishing vessel.
The boat moved, wood groaning as I tugged.
Then, all around me, ice began to crack.
Terrified I pulled more of my panther strength into my limbs, lifted and swung the boat far away. It landed a dozen yards off, but I barely paid any attention. The piece of ice that I was standing on let out a loud crack.
The section, only about five feet wide, tilted beneath my weight and I was almost tossed into the freezing water. How the hell was I going to come back?
I stiffened. I wasn’t about to let that stop me now.
With the water revealed, I tossed the portal key into the air, and thankfully this time it hovered above the inky surface.
The key spun for a few seconds then slowed, turning horizontally. I blinked and a column of white light soared from the heavens, then plunged straight into the center of the key. The light exited the metal disk and pierced the water below.
No time to think.
The ice began to wobble beneath my feet. Gathering my strength, I jumped.
Chapter 33
The push sent me soaring through the air, straight to the key. The column of white light grabbed hold of my body, a powerful gravity field that sent me spinning around like a leaf in a hurricane.
The magic of the seal and its light possessed me, changing my body, my shape, allowing me to pass through the very center of the metal. I closed my eyes.
My feet hit solid ground, my ankle spasmed, and the key clattered as it struck stone. When I opened my eyes, I blinked against the near pitch darkness. To my left, a few yards around a short corner, a soft light glowed.
I’d arrived a few feet inside the mouth of a dark cave, and it took me a moment to get my bearings. I leaned over and grabbed the portal key, sliding it into my jacket pocket for safekeeping.
I hurried toward the mouth of the cave and peered out into the distance. The cave sat high on a mountaintop, and the view was astounding.
Barren as the land was, with all its dark soil and trees that looked perpetually in fall, it was also breathtakingly beautiful. The mountain range snaked out, carving this way and that, as if reaching toward the distant sun which hung low and threatening, throwing a red glow on the landscape.
The journey was not going to be easy. Not that I’d expected it to be. I’d been to Wrythiin after all. And that was a dark, cold and forbidding place, that was a contrast to this blood and stone landscape.
The cave opened onto a small ledge. From it I had a clear view of the narrow ravine below, and the river that ran in a sinuous red line, as ominous as the sun.
To my left a narrow ledge led away, hugging the side of the mountain, likely my only route down the mountainside. Only the further it went the narrower it got.
I dropped my rucksack on the floor, and knelt beside it, rummaging inside to withdraw the files from my satchel. Removing the map, I studied it in the pink sunlight.
The map was an aerial, hand-drawn sketch of the city. Naturally it gave no indication of how I was supposed to descend from the mountain. I had to get across the range, and move northeast toward the city.
I folded the map and carefully slid it into my jacket pocket with the portal key. Throwing my rucksack onto my shoulders, I followed the path along the side of the mountain.
Logan had not lied when he said that the mountains were black. They looked like they were made of smoky crystal, which glistened pink in the sunshine. Despite the strange beauty, it was so sharp that I kept grazing my hands when I looked for handholds or tried to steady myself.
The ledge narrowed further, now only two feet wide. Below me, another shallow outcropping beckoned, this one wide enough to stand on. I sighed, accepting that I had little choice but to use my panther from here on out.
Thank
fully my rucksack was special. Made in such a way that I could carry it on my back while in panther form. After placing my satchel inside the rucksack, I removed my clothes, wondering when a fabric would be invented that would mold to the skin of a walker in human form, and adjust naturally to the body of the panther after shifting into the animal.
I shook my head, annoyed and amused at myself. Right now, I had to work with what I had available to me. Unbuttoning my jeans, I slid them down my legs, and tried not to be amused at the sight of my pale thighs.
A clear bandage still covered the wound there, but thankfully it had healed enough that I barely felt a twinge, even in this cool mountain air.
Everything went into the rucksack, which had two more additional straps that I buckled as tightly as possible around my waist. All the straps were elasticated, and held so tightly that I would have been afraid of stopping my circulation if I was going to remain in human form. But the straps were made to be comfortable on a panther.
As the wind blew in, icy and cold, and as the red sun began to sink lower on the horizon, I shifted from human form into a panther. Ears lifted, lengthened, fur covered the skin. The bones in my face shifted, mouth forward, jaw narrowing, eyes growing deeper and wider, teeth becoming sharper and more dangerous. My limbs filled with fire and my muscles felt like liquid, forming again into the slim and elegant legs of the Cat.
In feline form, I shook myself, allowing the muscles, sinew, and bones to settle around me. The rucksack straps loosened, and were now much more comfortable. I moved to the edge, aimed at the ledge below, and sprang. Landing softly, I scanned the outcropping. Below me to the left was another ledge wide enough to support my panther. And I jumped.
On and on I went, until I reached the bottom of the canyon, a few yards from the Blood River.
The map had said to follow the river, which snaked out in the opposite direction of the sunrise. Here, in Drakys, the sun set in the East, which felt odd until I got my bearings.
Judging from the distances on the map, I knew the trip to the city would take at least four hours in panther form.
The river continued east, staying at the base of the rocky mountain range, and narrowed at one point where it sank underground leaving me with no choice but to climb the mountainside again.
The wind began to let up, the cold no longer biting, and at least there was no snow. Hours later the height of the mountain range began to decline, and at last I stood on a rocky outcropping, studying a flat plain that reached out for almost five miles before it ended at the walls of the great city.
Even from this distance the walls and the guardian statues were imposingly tall.
I’d walked all night, and lost track of time. Also, because I suspected that the sun rose earlier in this part of the universe than it did back home. The sun was behind me now, still the same red threatening and ominous, but this time it was much higher in the sky.
And where last night the sky was a blend of grays and red, this morning it was every shade of red imaginable. Blood red streaked the sky, blending with the pale pink and a dusky rose. If I stopped to enjoy it, I would have to admit that it was an incredible sight. So far this land was impressing me greatly with its beauty.
I couldn’t go any further in panther form in case I was seen from the battlements or from the palace that sat high on the mountain. I transformed, and changed, then set out at a brisk pace.
The road, which ran beside the river, was compacted dirt more than anything. Wheel-tracks marked the soil in deep gouges. And little puddles of red gleamed.
Red water, red rain. Of course.
I’d seen the statues from afar and they only looked more imposing up close. They guarded the entrance of the city, a pair of sentinels that were both frightening and majestic.
They towered above me, wing-tips reaching at least three hundred feet into the air. They’d carved the form of a woman, slim waist, impressive bust. From the back of her shoulders, a pair of wings grew, spreading above her in height equal to her own. Her face was regal, nose patrician, lips full. She looked human, except for the scaly skin.
The twin to this gigantic statue stood on the other side of the entrance, two female dragons warning travelers to beware. It was enough to frighten the most sturdy-hearted man, the artist having captured a terrifying expression in the faces of the pair.
Guarding the city were walls at least a hundred feet high, and ten feet wide, with battlements on the outer edge to guard the city. Though the creation of such a majestic wall would be easy enough for a battalion of flying creatures, it was still an amazing sight.
Back home the Great Wall of China could not compare.
The gates to the city of Dyr were guarded by a pair of soldiers, they wore armor that resembled the scales of a dragon, their bodies molded in a skin-tight sheath, as red as the bloody sun. Swords at their waists, and daggers at their thighs, they looked like any human soldier, but I had no doubt that they were capable of unfurling great and powerful wings.
Their faces were hidden by masks that were made in the form of a dragon’s head. Narrow slits in the eyes allowed the soldiers to watch me. The taller of the two took a step forward, a movement designed to be threatening.
I wasn’t intimidated.
I’d been up against worse. Although, if he did decide to go all scales and teeth on me, I would probably turn and run.
“What business do you have in the city,” he asked, his voice loud and ringing in my ears.
Talk about border control.
“I am an emissary for the Elders of the Supreme High Council, and I come in peace.” I spoke loudly too. Letting him know I wasn’t quivering in my boots.
It wasn’t as if we had an audience, as behind me the road was empty. But I also had to remind myself to be nice to the man. He could easily not allow me entry into the city.
I handed him the sheet of paper that Horner had given me, and prayed that it would be enough. The soldier stared at the writing, his dark eyes hidden by the shadows of his mask.
Chapter 34
From the expression that I could make out through the slit in his helmet, the soldier looked undecided. He pointed at his partner and said, “Take the emissary to the guardhouse. I’ll notify the general.”
The second guard nodded and waved me over. As I followed, I watched the first guard stare up at the top of the wall, and wave, making an oddly familiar circular motion.
A loud rumble echoed within the wall, and the gigantic doors began to open. It was obvious that heavy machinery would be required to move them.
I followed the second guard to a small building just inside the wall. I remained polite and didn’t make a fuss. The guard did not inspect my bags, nor did he examine me for weapons. So the emissary of the Elders did enjoy a diplomatic immunity of sorts.
Once inside the office, he waved me to a seat by the window and returned to his post. He didn’t seem worried about security either, leaving me without a guard.
I could be a Trojan horse assassin for all they knew.
Not much good being Trojan or otherwise when you could end up barbecued alive.
The room was spartan, stone walls and floor, and not much else except for my roughly-hewn chair. I was beginning to get bored when the first guard returned, filling the doorway and blocking the light.
I grabbed my bags and got to my feet, then faced him, wondering if he would have the decency to remove his helmet. As I stared, waiting for the general’s answer, he fidgeted as if disliking the scrutiny.
Instead of removing the helmet, he said, “The general will receive you in his quarters. His page will take you to him.” He glanced at a figure, standing outside the door just beyond my line of vision.
Outside I came face-to-face with a portly young man. With his flushed cheeks, he looked like a cherub.
He gave a small bow and said, “If you will come with me please the general will see you now.” Then, unsmiling, he turned and began to waddle off without a backward glance.
I hurried after him, taking in the details of the city as I went. Slate-paved roads, walls made of gleaming obsidian stone. None of the streets here were parallel, or even straight. Everything curved, snaking this way and that. A slight incline lay ahead and when I looked up, the castle commanded my attention.
The page stopped so suddenly that I almost walked right into him. Thankfully, I sidestepped at the last minute. He waved at a small building; a house made of black obsidian instead of simple stone.
Double doors guarded the interior, and the page knocked before entering. Inside, the room was spartan again, everything from shelves to tables to chairs merely serving its purpose, as opposed to providing any sort of decorative purpose. Only a single set of armor stood in the corner, black as night.
A large table occupied most of the left side of the room, and seated behind it was an old man, so thin and feeble that it looked like his armor was about to swallow him whole.
I was surprised the new queen hadn’t seen fit to appoint a man who would instill fear in his men, rather than one who broadcasted his weakness the first time a person set eyes on him. Maybe I was wrong, and maybe he was a strong man, hiding behind a sheepish facade. For the sake of the city, I hoped the latter was true.
The general rubbed his chin, and stared at the piece of paper on his desk. The official verification letter from the Elders seemed to trouble him.
“Is there a problem?” I asked, ensuring that I kept any impatience out of my voice. Seems I had the hidden talent of a diplomat.
He gave a small shake of his head then looked up at me. His eyes shifted left and right, and I wondered if he had a problem meeting my gaze. It occurred to me at that moment that perhaps the Dragons were an old-fashioned race, one that subjugated their woman. From the way he avoided looking at me, I assumed he felt I had no right to gain the position of the emissary of the Elite.
I straightened my spine and ignored the look, focusing on the job at hand. When he still didn’t answer, I said, “I would like to see the Queen. If I may. The Elders wish me to convey their good wishes, and there is a lot to be discussed. Is there any reason why you wish to delay me?”
