Wizards of Fyre (Island of Fyre Book 3)

by Janet Lane-Walters

  Though his cloak protected him from the rain and his boots and trousers protected him from being soaked, the ice pellets were large. He stared at the slope. The barren stretch of mud posed treacherous footing. He continued to stare. Rocks and mud faced him. At some distance he saw what appeared to be another forest.

  With one foot after another he inched ahead taking care not to set off another slide. Several times he stopped and used cupped hands to catch water to drink. He hoped that would keep him from thinking about the lost haunch of meat. When he reached the trees he would pull dried food from his pack.

  In the forest he found shelter beneath a full-leafed tree. Along with dried meat from his pack he found some pine nuts. He cracked and scooped the meat into his mouth. There were edibles in his sack, but they should be cooked. Though what he’d eaten satisfied his hunger, he wanted something hot to warm his chilled body. He curled in his cloak and blanket to sleep.

  In the morning he reached a clearing that ended in a cave carved into a hill. He dashed across the flat area, entered and slumped against the wall.

  He smelled meat cooking. Was his mind playing tricks? The scent was light but remained present. He pushed to his feet to follow the aroma. He saw a tunnel at the end of the cave. He entered. Darkness surrounded him. He placed one hand on the wall and waited for his vision to adjust. Though he could have used a wand to light the way, he didn’t want to alert anyone who might live here. With each step the aroma of meat grew stronger.

  A shadowy figure blocked his path. He pressed his back against the passage wall. Huge. Looming. Two large yellow eyes. Two small blue ones. Did he face a two-headed monster? His heart galloped faster than the burden beasts raced by the desert clans. Rasping breaths filled the air. His or the two headed beast’s?

  A scream raised goose bumps on his arms. Panic slithered down his spine. He wanted to run but his knees locked. He inched along the wall toward the entrance cave. In the light the figure turned into a dragon. Fear escalated. He turned to run, tripped and sprawled on the hard rock.

  Terror filled his thoughts. His clothing had been made from dragon skin. He pulled a wand free. “Please. I mean no harm.”

  The beast lowered its body. The huge head moved from side to side. Arton couldn’t move, couldn’t power his wand and couldn’t think. Was he to be the dragon’s next meal?

  * * *

  Lorana’s scream echoed from the walls. Who had found her? She couldn’t return to the citadel. Her silent cries to Dragon were unanswered. His comforting presence moved away. What was happening? She got to her feet and staggered after her friend.

  She reached the outer cave, where gray light allowed her to see Dragon and a man wearing dragon hide clothes. Her friend’s growl troubled her. Would he attack? She reached his side and edged around his body to identify the wizard who held a wand in his hand.

  With a gasp, she recognized Arton. He raised the wand. “Don’t,” she shouted. She recalled Dragon’s stories of how the wizards had blinded the dragons. How could she and Dragon survive if he couldn’t see to fly? She stepped in front of her friend.

  “Lorana, has this creature made you a prisoner?” Arton sheathed his wand. “Don’t fear. I’ll rescue you and take you back to the citadel.”

  She shook her head. “I’m no prisoner and I won’t go back. Dragon saved my life. He is my friend. I will remain in his home.”

  A frown wrinkled Arton’s forehead. “Mecador sent Cregan and me to find you. Whoever succeeds and brings you back untouched will have the seat on the council. I will be that man.”

  Lorana’s hands fisted. “I will not go back. I won’t be a slave.”

  Arton groaned. “Matters have changed since I left. I just recalled what happened a few days ago.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There is no going back for either of us unless I can prove I’m strong enough to challenge Mecador and the other council members.”

  “I never intend to return. Why can’t you go back and forget you saw me?”

  He bowed his head. “There was an avalanche. I saw Cregan at the bottom of the slope moments before the slide started. When the noise stopped I couldn’t see him.”

  “Then you have the council seat. Go back and tell them you never saw me.”

  He shook his head. “If he’s dead, returning might make me a second rank wizard.”

  ‘Dragon, is he telling the truth?’

  ‘I do not know. His surface thoughts are filled with fear.’

  Lorana stared at Arton. “Why would becoming a second ranked wizard bother you?”

  He straightened. “I will not be used by the council as they wish.”

  She laughed. “So, they will make you a slave. Go. We don’t need you. Dragon and I are safe here.”

  “You are not. In the spring men will come from the citadel seeking you. No woman is allowed to escape the hareem. They will kill the dragon.”

  ‘Lorana, be kind to him,’ Dragon said.

  She heard Arton’s stomach growl. “Dragon wants me to be nice to you. You’re hungry.” She handed him the fire starter. There’s only meat and broth from cooking scraps in water. I used all my dried food.”

  He opened his pack. “I’ve some dried vegetables, grain, fruit and meat. We can add some of these things to what you have.”

  Lorana scurried away. She returned with the pot of meat and a second filled with water. She set the gold vessel on the fireplace she’d made using a sheet of the silver-like metal she’d found as a cooking surface. She used the other pot to place grain and dried fruit. She left and returned with bowls, cups and spoons. Before long the pot boiled. She dipped the soup into the bowls and poured water from a silver pitcher into the cups.

  Arton stared at the bowls and cups. “Gold. Where did you find them?”

  “In one of the side caves. Dragon says they belonged to his people.” She spooned food into her mouth and sighed with pleasure at the taste.

  “I hope Mecador never learns about them. He would bring all the wizards from the citadel to take these items for himself.”

  “He won’t learn about the treasures from me.”

  “Do you really hear the dragon or do you invent what he says to you.”

  “I hear and can speak to him.” She smiled. “I was taken from a land where there are dragons. I’ve always been able to communicate with them.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Lorana bent her head and ate. “There are two ways to hear dragons. Some people like me can talk to them with no aid. In past days, those who heard naturally became riders. Others must drink a special tea and remain on the ground to direct dragons through what the animals see.”

  “All this confuses me.”

  “I have no way to explain. We should finish our meal and sleep. When we wake we need to make plans for the future.”

  * * *

  For days Cregan walked through the icy rains. He felt thankful for the burden beast carrying his dwindling supplies. During the long walk he had a chance to perfect his story about Arton’s escape and flight. Finding shelter at night and lighting a fire by using a wand had proved almost impossible because of the drenched wood.

  He wasn’t sure how long his journey took. Most of the time because of the clouds and rain. He seldom saw the sun or moon. Finally he saw the towering walls of the citadel. He staggered to the gate and rattled the small grille in the wooden door until a guard appeared.

  “Who demands entry?”

  “Cregan, returned from the search for Lorana. Let Mecador know I have news he will want to hear.”

  The guard turned away. “I will find Supreme.”

  Cregan shook the grille. “Where are you going? I have no desire to stand in the rain. I must bathe and change my clothes before I seek Mecador. The burden beast needs the stable.” He pulled a wand from his belt sheath. “Open or I will.”

  The guard returned and threw the bolts and removed the bar. The moment Cregan entered, the guard
took the pack animal’s lead rope.

  Cregan hurried to his suite. He dropped his pack on one of the chairs in the front room. He entered the second and stripped off his clothes. In the necessary he stood in the shallow box and pulled a chain. Warm water washed over him. He soaped and rinsed, taking delight in feeling clean. Once dry he dressed in his third set of dragon hide clothes. He had just finished when he heard the sound of boots in the outer room.

  A youngling stood beside the door. “The chief wizard wishes to see you. Go to his suite.”

  Cregan strode past the boy. He walked down the hall and stepped inside his father’s rooms. He noted the man’s flushed face. “Are you ill?”

  “I suffer from a catarrh.” Mecador gestured. “”Stand tall for judgment. You are here, but where is Lorana? Where is Arton?”

  Cregan drew a deep breath. He clasped his hands behind his back and widened his stance. “After reaching the oasis I sought signs of her. There was one lone traveler. I followed the trail for a day and saw a burden beast accompanied the person. I used my wand to locate Lorana.”

  “Did you find her?”

  “No but I remembered how Arton had spent time alone with her after the poisoning. I searched for him and headed in that direction.”

  Mecador nodded. “Did you find him?”

  Cregan shrugged. “I saw him but she wasn’t with him.”

  “Yet you returned alone.”

  Cregan stared at the floor. He sucked in deep breaths and began the story he had prepared. “The rains had begun making travel in the hills treacherous. I followed his direction from dawn to dusk paying little attention to the frequent downpours. I reached the foot of a long slope and saw him.”

  “Did you call him?” Mecador coughed. He reached for a cup and drank.

  “Yes. I yelled at him to halt. He kept climbing. He shouted that he wouldn’t return. Then he sent a river of rocks, stones and mud rolling down the slope. I barely escaped being crushed.”

  Mecador stood, moved around the table and clasped Cregan’s shoulder. “In the spring you will return and bring them both to me.”

  Cregan met his father’s gaze. “Why not just grant me the seat?”

  “The council is equally divided and I don’t have enough power to force a vote.” His fingers dug into Cregan’s shoulders. “And you haven’t earned the seat. You must face Arton in a duel of wands and claim your reward."

  “So I must sit here and do nothing while the winter storms rage.”

  “You will learn all I have to teach you for the moment you face your rival. Go now so I can rest.”

  Cregan walked to the door. Resentment built like the rows of stones in a wall. He barely kept his anger contained. Mecador would regret his decision not to break another rule. He’d taken Arton’s right to his mentor’s seat after the man’s death. He had named a foolish contest for the seat. Mecador was wrong. Cregan vowed he would have that seat and more.

  * * *

  Lorana curled against Dragon and sought sleep. Arton settled beside the far wall. No matter what he said or promised, she wouldn’t return to the citadel. She basked in her friend’s warmth. She had all winter to persuade Arton to leave her with Dragon. She drifted to sleep and woke when she heard Arton stirring.

  She stretched and hurried to the pool room. She washed and changed into her second set of clothes and washed the first. She cleaned a cooking pot and filled it with water from the hottest part of the pool to prepare the morning meal. In the outer cave she added water to the grain and dried fruit and cooked some dried meat to make a broth.

  He appeared. She looked up. “If you want to cleanse yourself there’s a heated pool.”

  “I would like that.”

  She led him to that cave. The moment he stepped inside, Lorana turned away. Though she’d seen his body when she had cared for him, she didn’t need a reminder of his physical perfection. Even thinking about his nudity made her body tingle. She felt her face heat.

  “Can you find your way to the outer cave?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  She scurried past him and joined Dragon. ‘Is he dangerous?’

  ‘Not today. When winter ends he can cause problems.’

  ‘How will we know?’

  ‘Each time you touch him and me, I can read him.’

  ‘Good.’ She went to the fire and heated the fruit and grain. She dished porridge into her gold bowl and used a gold spoon to eat.

  Arton entered the outer cave and sat beside the fire. He scooped the rest of the food into his bowl and filled a mug with the meat broth.

  Lorana looked up. “Help me decide what we must do to make our stay here comfortable for the winter.”

  He swallowed his food. “Wood for the fire. Dried grass to make torches and line the floor where we sleep. We can gather nuts, roots, mushrooms and meat to smoke.”

  “Dragon will hunt for us. He must have meat to survive.”

  “The hides must be saved. Can you ask him not to shred the skins? You’ll need a cloak and warmer clothes. Skins from the smaller animals can be used to make mittens and to line your boots.”

  Lorana touched his hand. She leaned against Dragon. ‘Can you hear what he says?’

  ‘I do.’

  Arton gasped. “Who spoke?”

  “Dragon,” Lorana said. “”He talks to me in my head all the time.” She removed her hand. ‘Dragon, speak.’

  ‘What should I say?’

  ‘That was enough.’ She turned to Arton. “Did you hear him just now?”

  He shook his head. “When you touched my hand I heard.” He clasped her arm. “What will we do?”

  “Prepare for winter with Dragon’s help.” She turned to her friend. ‘When the snows come will you hibernate again? She dreaded the thought of being alone with Arton.

  ‘The long sleep ended and can only happen once in a dragon’s life.’

  Arton finished his food. He walked to the opening. “The day is a nice one. We should begin our gathering.”

  Lorana took their dishes to the pool room. She quickly rinsed them and stopped in the sleeping cave for her pack. She joined Arton in the outer cave. The air wasn’t as cold as yesterday. “Where should we go?”

  “We’ll start in the forest across from the cave. I’ve emptied my pack.”

  “With the next kill, I can make packs to carry things,” she said. ‘Dragon, don’t slash the hides. We need them.’

  He followed them outside. ‘I will be careful. If you butcher the beasts, that will be like my men and women did.’

  Lorana carried her pack and brought her sling. Dragon flew over the trees. In the forest Lorana used her sling to kill four leapers and three climbers. The animals were fat and bore their winter coats. She filled her pack with groundnuts, wild onions, and plump mushrooms.

  Arton found an okala tree and harvested as many of the huge round nuts as he could fit into his pack, Once the packs were stuffed, they returned to the cave. Lorana paused to gather saltina leaves from some small bushes. When dry the leaves would flavor their food.

  Dragon lay on the ground outside the cave. Two roe deer and an ice wolf lay before the entrance. While Lorana and Arton skinned and butchered the animals Dragon ate the entrails. Arton cut the thick white fur from the wolf. Dragon ate the rest of that kill. Lorana cut a roast from one of the deer for their dinner and carried the rest of the first kill to the cold room, along with the hides.

  ‘Touch Arton,’ Dragon said. ‘I want to read his deeper thoughts.’

  She shook her head. How could her friend understand that touching Arton’s skin made her body yearn and ache for something she didn’t understand? ‘Not now.’

  ‘You must do this soon. We need to know what he thinks.’

  That night she huddled against Dragon. Her thoughts filled with memories of the days she’d tended Arton after his fyrethorn poisoning. She recalled the way his man part had changed beneath her touch. She remembered how her body had responded. What did this mea
n?

  ‘Sleep.’ Dragon hummed. ‘How you feel is the way the dragon riders responded to their true mates.’

  ‘But responding to him will make me a slave. Women of the hareem have no freedom. He will force me to return.’

  ‘Wait for the proper time. Work hard to make him change so he will stay and aid our plans.’

  ‘What plans?’

  ‘I will tell you soon.’

  * * *

  Dragon edged into Lorana’s dreams and sought ways to soothe her fears. He had no understanding of her feelings for Arton. Green dragons aged to become yellow. In their long lifetimes they had no desire to mate. Only the red and blue did.

  The few times he’d been able to deep read Arton, he’d found traces of a young child before he’d been sold to the wizards. There had been a time when a small boy had watched women and occasionally a man using yellow, orange and red fyrestones. The stones had created or destroyed buildings, enhanced or ruined a harvest, and healed or harmed men, women, and animals.

  If Arton and Lorana mated perhaps they could find more dragons. He pushed aside memories of the last few days when those of his line had climbed the high hills. He’d been too young to make the trip. He had remained here, the last refuge of the dragons and their riders. The appearance of the skins forming the clothes Arton wore were not from the lines the wizards had destroyed. That meant there were other dragons, and they were kin to him.

  This thought elated him, but until the wizards were gone from the land he could do nothing. With Lorana’s appearance he saw a chance to drive the evil men away, but he and she were too few to defeat the wizards. Would Arton agree to help? The young man had anger toward two of the men living in the citadel. Dragon knew he must encourage Lorana to bond with Arton. There had to be a way to leave them alone for a time.

  Chapter Seven

  Arton wandered into the cold room. He paused in the doorway and studied the shelves where they had stored the meat. The far end of the room was the coldest. In the cooler area near the opening they had placed the root foods, the mushrooms and the okala nuts.