‘Where is the orb?’ Domenon’s panicked voice caught her attention. The wizard reached down and grabbed Orphinius’ shoulders, lifting him up.
Orphinius groaned, too weak to protect himself. He flopped uselessly in Domenon’s grasp.
‘Domenon!’ Issa shouted, grabbing his arm. ‘The man is badly injured and has been through a lot, can’t you see that?’
Domenon either ignored her or was so intent upon the man, he didn’t actually hear her. She pushed herself to her feet, her legs feeling like jelly, and tried to pry his fingers off Orphinius’ shoulders.
‘Where is the orb?’ repeated Domenon. ‘You’d better have it! That’s the only reason we brought your sorry hide back out.’
Issa fumed. She was the one who’d brought him out and this was no way to treat a man who had just returned through death’s door and looked about to go back in. She felt Domenon enter the Flow and she jumped in ready to protect Orphinius if needed.
‘Get off him!’ shouted Issa, yanking on his arm.
Domenon flung his arm back at her, swiping her off her feet. She landed on her back, the wind knocked out of her lungs.
In a blink, Domenon was bending over her as she gasped for breath. ‘Or have you got it?’ He demanded.
The Master Wizard’s anger and desperation took her by surprise, leaving her totally bewildered. His eyes narrowed and for the briefest moment, she thought they changed shape, becoming slits like those of a cat, and in the next instant they were normal again.
She didn’t hear the other man arrive. All she saw was the blur of a fist smashing into Domenon’s face and then blue sky above and the sound of someone roaring. She sat up and saw Asaph grappling with the Master Wizard, his thick muscles bunched and his face scowling. He landed two more blows before Domenon thrust him back and swiped his legs from under him. Asaph rolled but Domenon leapt upon him, as fast and graceful as a cat, and hammered a furious blow. Issa looked on in shock.
Asaph forced himself up and the two men struggled for balance. Asaph looked to be the stronger and broader of the two, but Domenon had been trained in special techniques and was able to dodge Asaph’s blows, yet swiftly land his own. Blood already streaked from Asaph’s split lip and an angry bruise swelled on Domenon’s face.
The two men circled each other.
‘Stop it,’ shouted Issa, feeling utterly useless.
The men ignored her. She got the very strong sense that she shouldn’t get involved.
‘You’ve hurt her before, you won’t do it again,’ Asaph growled.
Domenon simply laughed, further enraging Asaph. His face was red and his blue eyes flashed, making her worry he might turn into a dragon at any moment.
‘Stop it!’ She shouted again. ‘Asaph, I’m all right!’ But he didn’t seem to hear her and went for Domenon again.
His right swing missed but his left-handed blow connected. Domenon staggered but recovered fast—incredibly fast—and lunged. Asaph was ready. They both moved so quickly, it was sometimes hard to see who was who. Issa had never seen people fight with such speed.
Asaph stumbled and Domenon got him in a headlock.
‘You know what dragons call you? Half-breeds,’ Domenon sniggered.
‘Not all dragons,’ Asaph rasped, and flung them both forwards.
Issa licked her lips and tried to think of something that would make them stop before they really hurt each other. She couldn’t even think of how to use the Flow to stop them without harming them. She entered the Flow anyway and what she saw astounded her.
Asaph’s form was a whirling mass of yellow flames flaring wildly, passionately. And so was Domenon’s. Both men’s forms were filled with fire rushing through and around them. Asaph’s flame energy was larger but Domenon’s was smoother, more concentrated and controlled. Suddenly Domenon’s energy spewed forth and surrounded Asaph entirely.
Issa shook her head and blinked in time to see Asaph crumple in the physical world. She yelped and ran to him, expecting Domenon to continue his attack, but the Master Wizard just stood calmly staring at the fallen Dragon Lord, his cheek cut and bleeding.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Issa screamed at the wizard.
He raised an eyebrow, but there was a hint of guilt there. ‘He attacked me first.’
Her own rage got the better of her and she jumped up and swung her own fist at him. He caught it easily and held it there. She swung her left but he caught that too. She struggled but he was far stronger and held tight to her wrists. For a moment she pooled the Flow, felt him do the same, and remembered the terrible sin of using magic against your fellow wizards, especially against the leaders on the Wizards’ Circle.
She glared at him, daring him to hurt her, but he just held her and stared into her eyes. The rage drained out of him and confusion flickered across his face. He frowned, dropped the Flow and looked away, whether in guilt or not, she couldn’t tell.
Orphinius groaned, then so did Asaph.
‘Let go of me,’ she hissed. Domenon released his grip and she yanked herself free. He turned to look across the forest, raising a hand to touch his bruised cheek.
As he was the closest to her, Issa fell beside Asaph first. Holding her hands over his bruised face, she used the Flow to stem his bleeding lip and nose. He groaned and rolled his eyes beneath his closed eyelids, but did not open them. He would be all right.
She ran to Orphinius and did the same, holding her hands over his cut face, using more of the Flow to stem the bleeding and ease his pain. She should have left the men to it and attended the elf. His wounds needed cleaning and stitches, and maybe his arm was broken, but she couldn’t fix those things here. The elf began to breathe deeper and slower and she relaxed.
Domenon bent down over him and wiped the man’s bloody face with a cloth, almost tenderly. Issa recoiled from the wizard but he did not look at her or speak.
‘What did you do to Asaph?’ she asked levelly.
‘He attacked me first,’ Domenon repeated flatly.
‘Because you were attacking me,’ she growled.
‘I simply responded to his attack as I have been trained,’ Domenon shrugged. There was no malice in his voice, possibly even weariness. ‘I did nothing but show him a trick a Dragon Lord should already know.’
Issa snorted and returned to Asaph who was rolling onto his side, looking dazed.
‘Are you all right?’ she said gently, helping him to sit up.
‘I don’t know,’ he moaned. ‘I feel like my brain’s spinning inside my skull. What did he do to me? Maybe I can’t protect you after all.’
Issa laughed and wiped his bleeding lip. ‘Looks like you won’t be able to kiss me for a while.’ She smiled.
Asaph tried to grin but that hurt his lip and he grimaced. ‘I’ve never lost a fight before.’ His eyes settled briefly on Domenon who was busy wrapping the elf’s clothing closer around him and deliberately not looking in their direction.
Issa remembered losing all those fights to Grast’anth. Pride was a bitter thing to swallow. It was hard to accept defeat. But, for losing a fight, Asaph didn’t seem too mortified.
‘I know how you feel. Thankfully it was amongst our own kind and not the enemy,’ she said.
‘Hah! I don’t think he’s one of us,’ Asaph said loudly, but if Domenon heard, he didn’t show it.
At least the wizard was trying to help now, or more likely checking for the orb, she thought. She didn’t need to worry. If it were bound to Orphinius then any ill intent to remove it from him without his permission would kill the taker. Domenon knew this.
‘He has the orb,’ Domenon said, confirming her thoughts.
‘Thank the goddess,’ Issa sighed in relief.
‘So, that’s what you were up to, coming here,’ said Asaph. ‘Sounds like another story to be told.’
‘We thought the tree might know more about the orb,’ Issa explained.
‘Let’s get him to a healer,’ Domenon said.
Issa
felt the Flow move and a sheet of white light slid under Orphinius. Domenon bent and lifted the man easily, the light somehow making the elf weightless.
Issa helped Asaph up. He limped a little. With her arm around him, they started walking back to the jetty in silence, following Domenon a good few paces behind. She noticed Asaph’s eyes never left the man’s back.
‘Wait, I forgot to grab some foxbane for Edarna. I promised. Can you rest here on the tree? I’ll only be a moment.’
‘Sure,’ said Asaph and leant against the pine tree with a sigh.
She turned back towards Sheyengetha.
Domenon continued walking as if he hadn’t heard.
Issa spied the short round leaves of foxbane clustered in a patch at the tree’s base. She carefully plucked two stems then stood up straight and looked at the tree. The plant wasn’t the only reason she’d come back. Closing her eyes, she laid a hand on Sheyengetha’s trunk.
‘Thank you for letting me pass. I wanted to free Averen, but he said it was not time.’
‘I know, Raven Queen,’ said the tree in a slow soft voice. ‘For a time, Averen and I are one, our minds and bodies linked. We have made a noble agreement of the highest order.’
Issa raised her eyebrows. ‘A soul agreement?’
‘If that makes it easier for you to understand, then yes.’
‘What is its purpose?’
‘A wise question,’ said the tree. ‘To return the pure knowledge of trees to the elves. It has long been diluted since the Dark Rift came. Many trees have forgotten who and what they once were. Many have become evil with Baelthrom’s taint.’
‘So you have hope, then? Hope that this will all end?’ Issa asked.
‘Always, but it is not complete. If the Dark Rift is not healed and Baelthrom wins, Averen will never be freed and we shall fall into oblivion together.’
‘I pray that it does not come to that,’ Issa swallowed and changed the subject. ‘Is Domenon one of them?’
‘It is not for me to discuss another’s chosen path, but no, he is not in league with the Immortal Lord.’
Issa let out a long, slow sigh. She had never really thought he was working with Baelthrom, and it was a relief to hear it, but now the man and his nature seemed even more mysterious.
She was surprised Sheyengetha talked to her openly now, and she felt none of its former reluctance. Answering her thoughts and startling her, the tree said, ‘I know who you are, Raven Queen.’
Issa held her breath and leant closer. ‘You know my mother?’
‘Yes, and that you carry her gift, Tree Whisperer.’
Issa began to cry.
Feelings of love emanated from the tree. She wanted to ask a thousand questions but couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat.
‘She was kind and strong, like you, like her mother,’ said Sheyengetha. ‘She was a powerful seer who was being trained to be one of the Trinity.’
Using mind-speak, the tree placed an image of her mother in her mind. She was just as Fraya had described her; long, dark brown hair, tall slender figure, and sea-green eyes that were a darker version of Issa’s own. Issa’s breath caught in her throat and she thought her heart might break.
Another image was placed in her mind; her father. He was broad-shouldered and had long, dark hair he wore tied back. Beautiful, green, bardic tattoos wound up his arms. He had a kind face and green eyes. She wanted to run to him and hug him, to pinch his stubbled cheek and have him lift her up as if she were a little girl.
‘Your father was an accomplished bard of great renown,’ said the tree in its soothing voice. ‘A follower of the Old Ways before the Temple destroyed the old teachings. He was very learned for his age.
‘They both left Myrn to protect you. If they had not gone, Baelthrom would have hunted them down and destroyed the Isles of Tirry and all the seers. I would have been destroyed, and so, too, the gateway to the Land of Mists. Worse, the Elven Realm may have been discovered and destroyed as well. This your mother had seen in a vision given to her by the Night Goddess. What happened after they fled, you already know.’
‘But there is more I don’t know,’ said Issa, her voice little more than a whisper. ‘Where did they go? Where are they now? Are they alive?’ A feverish need to know burned within her.
‘I do not know where they went, Raven Queen.’
Issa’s heart fell and she stroked the foxbane leaves in her hand.
‘But, that you are alive means they succeeded in keeping you safe,’ said Sheyengetha. ‘And if they succeeded, then it’s most likely they, too, are alive. If Baelthrom had captured them, he would have found you long ago and you would not be here now.’
Issa’s heart lifted but the world now suddenly seemed huge. How would she ever find out where her parents were? Now she thought about it, something didn’t add up.
‘Why do none of the seers know?’
‘There is a secret that is yours by right to know but not to tell,’ the tree said, making her frown. ‘There’s a witch’s spell called the Web of Forgetting. Those upon whom it is cast forget anything the caster desires forever or until the spell is reversed. It is illegal to cast any Spells of Webbing on the Isles of Tirry or upon any seer—punishable by the stripping of one’s powers and permanent exile.
‘Your mother and father made a powerful combination, as any coupling between a bard and seer might. And especially as both of them were of Tusarzan ancestry and thus had strong magical abilities. They cast this Web of Forgetting most potently, knowing all the while that what they did was terribly wrong and forbidden, a crime against their people. But your parents cast it for the greater good, to save you and the seers, and a great many things.’
Issa listened in enraptured silence, feeling immense relief as the pieces of her past fell into place. She imagined her mother and her father singing and playing instruments and casting the Web of Forgetting over all the people. Where they ran to after, she could but wonder.
‘You have a right to know what happened to your parents and why, but it is not for you to tell their secret. Even to tell the seers of what you have learned would be to bring shame upon them, and they alone must answer to their actions.’
‘I guess, for me, it doesn’t matter what they did, it only matters where they are now,’ said Issa, her emotions a mix of joy at knowing who they were, and sadness wondering where they were. ‘I pray to Zanufey that I will one day find them.’
‘I hope that you will, too,’ said the tree softly. ‘Remember; it is not your secret to tell.’
Issa nodded. ‘I could never betray them. What were their names? Fraya didn’t even know their names.’
‘Eritara of Jaya and Thanon Bard,’ said the tree. Just hearing their beautiful names made Issa sigh and smile. ‘Jaya was an ancient city in Tusarza, now long forgotten. Your grandmother was a witch. Quite a famous one. Or perhaps, infamous.’ There was humour in the tree’s voice.
Issa wondered as a child what it would be like to have a grandmother, to bake cakes together and listen to her singing old fairy tales, just like Tarry’s grandmother used to do.
She closed her eyes as the tree showed in her mind an image of a strong, buxom woman, so unlike her and her mother’s slender frame. Her long hair was a frizzy, uncontrollable mass of white, despite her young face. She looked formidable and utterly untamed, but her smile was of one who was fiercely protective and kind.
‘She looks wild,’ Issa murmured in fascination.
The tree laughed, a sound like the wind blowing gently over glass bottles. ‘Yes, Belledyn faced demons and had them running in terror. Her darker dealings turned her hair white.’
The tree fell silent. A chill wind blew and Issa shivered.
‘Thank you, Sheyengetha. It means so much, I cannot say. I want to learn more, but I should go,’ she said, her voice hoarse with gratitude.
She wanted to sit and talk with Sheyengetha about her parents all night and day, and dream about the life they might have had to
gether—a life Baelthrom had taken away from her. How could one being cause so much suffering?
Asaph had started to limp back up the path towards her, a frown of worry on his face. She wiped her eyes but the tears fell. She turned back to the tree to hide her tears.
‘Goodbye for now, Sheyengetha,’ she said and almost dropped her hand from its trunk before the tree spoke again softly.
‘Whenever you pass into a tree there is a moment where you and the tree become one. You will have felt this, though forgotten. In that moment I learned much about you that even you do not know. There is wizard blood in your veins, Raven Queen. Where it comes from, I know not. Seer, bard, witch and wizard—do you see the importance of these things? For we always choose our parents and they their parents—even trees do this.’
‘In you, all things are made whole,’ Issa breathed in wonder, remembering Zanufey’s words. ‘I have to make whole what has been broken?’
The tree didn’t answer, she sensed it did not know.
Issa didn’t tell Asaph the details of what Sheyengetha had told her as they made their way home. Instead, she sat quietly, chin resting on her hand as she stared at the sea over the side of the boat. Domenon sat at the prow with his back to them, next to the boatman. No one said anything.
Every now and then, Issa frowned and tears filled her eyes. Asaph knew she would talk to him when she was ready, so he just held her hand and mulled over everything that had happened.
He’d arrived late to meet Issa, having had to reconstruct a tent whose beam snapped just as he was about to leave to meet her. He hadn’t expected her to go without him and alarm bells started ringing when she wasn’t there on the jetty waiting for him. He didn’t want her to be alone with Domenon. Although he didn’t know the wizard, he could see that the man was handsome and could use his charms well on any woman. He was also clearly untrustworthy to be left alone around Issa or the orbs. The thought of him even touching Issa made his blood boil.
After fixing the tent, he’d taken a boat to the island and run nearly all the way to the tree. What he saw made him stop short. Issa, and a badly wounded elf-man, emerged, no, fell out of the tree’s massive trunk. Domenon had grabbed the wounded man roughly then Issa intervened.
Dragons of the Dawn Bringer: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 5 Page 15
