Camry looked around the room, dimly lit by the two candles on the desk to her right. The covered window across from her, didn’t allow any sunlight past as her curtains had. Under the covered window was a table with the game Generals and Champions set up. Her father had taught her to play the game. Golas refused to play against her anymore, he was tired of losing. To the left, was a bed large enough for DraKar, but she couldn’t see much more in the darkness.
DraKar picked up Golas’s coin purse; he’d threaded the plain silver ring onto the drawstrings. He turned to Camry as she walked to him and held up the coin purse. “What I found on Golas.”
Camry took the offered possessions. The familiar feel of the coins was of little consequence to her, but the ring wasn’t something she recalled seeing him wear. They had lost nearly everything during their escape from the Hells. “What is this? Where did you find it?”
“Just a ring I found on him.”
She slipped the ring on her first finger, it fit loosely. “Thank you.”
DraKar grunted, another thanks from her. He turned away, not wanting to acknowledge it.
The motion made Camry’s chest ache; the sarpand was her last connection, the last person who had known her family. “Please,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me alone.”
DraKar’s shoulders sagged, his wings hung limp. He couldn’t face her. He wasn’t sure what else he could give her. Sending her from him would be the wiser decision; keeping her distant so there was less chance the Hells would go after her to reach him. Like Drunah. “I am not one you should seek comfort from, child.” He took a deep breath to gather the strength to speak longer. “Go, there is nothing in Meerwood that will be denied to you.”
“You selfish bastard,” Camry sobbed. “You think you’re the only one who hurts? You think sending me away is better? There is nothing left for me in this world. Half-darkling, channeler, no one looked past that but my family, and they’re all gone now.”
Her words hurt, more than he thought they should, like a hammer blow between his wings. It made him lean on the desk. He was supposed to tend to her, care for her. His brother’s niece.
“You have a demon’s heart,” she hissed.
DraKar’s tail smashed into the stone floor and he turned on her. “I am not a demon! Having nothing left means nothing can be taken from you. You have to learn to live with it.”
“I refuse,” Camry piled back at him. “And you do too. Some little part of you does, otherwise, you wouldn’t have brought me here. Why bother with me if you want to be alone?”
The flicker of anger ebbed and drowned beneath the sea of depression still flooding DraKar. The familiar emotions in her eyes, on her face, pulled at a withdrawn sympathetic part of him.
“You are,” DraKar hesitated, not liking the word, but finding there was little else he could call her to explain his reasoning. “My niece. I will care for you, try to help you, but I can’t have you close. I don’t trust that the danger from the Hells has passed and keeping my distance from you is one of the best ways to keep you safe.”
The bitter images of Meerwood in ruins came to mind. Drunah’s desecrated body. He forced the thoughts away. The new defenses would keep an attack at bay long enough for him to return and destroy whatever dared assault his town again. Provided he wasn’t imprisoned again.
“Golas had said your disregard, that distance, was the true nature of sarpand.”
DraKar shook his head and sat heavily on the floor; his strength drained, and leaned his shoulder against the desk. “We, I, rarely feel nothing, child. And sometimes, it seems a curse to have emotions. So, if you felt I was disregarding you, it was because I didn’t want to let another soul into my life.”
Camry settled onto the floor across from him, crossing her legs. “I found, I want, I need, a connection with the people around me, but there were so few because I’m a channeler. Da and Golas kept me away from people for a long time, until I could control my power.”
“And since developing your control, you didn’t find friends for yourself?” DraKar asked. If it would make her feel better, he could ask her questions to give her an opportunity to talk.
“Da got sick. Some sort of wasting disease. Golas went to find a cleric, but by the time he came back, Da was dead. Afterward, he took me on his travels, to help me cope with Da’s death, or maybe distract me.” She shrugged with a little smile from the memory of Golas’s awkward attempts to engage her with education about art, music, and history. “But we never stayed in one place long. Because people didn’t like me around, as half-darkling,” she muttered, her smile gone, and held up the hand with Golas’s ring on it, her violet skin dark in the candle light. “And because he thought new towns, new artifacts, different cultures would interest me.”
“Did they?”
“Some. But it also meant I knew no one, other than him.” Another smile ghosted across her features for a moment. “He liked to travel too. More than anything, I think he liked to teach, but he only had me as a student. It seemed he was never ready to settle down and start another school. Too scared he might lose students again. Somehow make a mistake that would cost more than their lives.”
DraKar looked away, a grumble of resentment drawn from his chest.
“I know you haven’t forgiven him, but he hadn’t meant for it to happen.”
“Little good that does anyone now,” DraKar muttered, trying not to think of Armagon’s death.
Camry gave him a disappointed look. When he said nothing more, she asked the question that had been gnawing at her since she’d woken with the short bursts of pain in her mind. “Is Arkhed dead?”
“There was nothing left of him when Khain and I went back to the volcano. We destroyed his work and labs so no one could come upon it and use it again.”
“And where is Khain? Loya didn’t know who he was.”
“He wanted me to send him back to the Third plane, so I did.”
“Sent him back! Why would he want that? Why not bring him with you?”
“He said there were things for him to attend to there.” DraKar ran a hand through his blue mane. “I wasn’t going to force him to come with us.”
“What will you do now?”
DraKar stared at the floor. He hadn’t thought beyond his next breath, so gave her no answer.
After a protracted silence, Camry sighed and stood, brushing at her skirt to make sure it laid properly. “Just promise not to wall yourself away.”
DraKar made a displeased sound and looked away to a wall. “I promise nothing.”
“I’m going to look around the town.” Camry frowned at him. “I’ll come back to see you tomorrow.”
DraKar didn’t answer her, trying to forget she wanted him for company. A person unafraid of him was a rare occurrence outside the Hells. It was tempting to accept her friendship.
Camry sighed, and rolled Golas’s ring around her finger. “Try and get some rest.”
Camry spent the rest of the daylight hours exploring Meerwood. The ever-present scent of the swamp was a mild annoyance compared to the foul aroma she’d suffered in the Hells. She was surprised to see the variety of darkling races in the town, and the few humans, elves, and sarpand didn’t seem as curious, or wary of her presence, because of them.
She found a tailor, a troll woman, who slurred the Merchant language horribly, but understood Camry’s desire to be fitted. At first, she had been wary of entering the shop, but the troll offered a wide gap-toothed smile and waved her in. It was the first time Camry had encountered a shop run by one of the darkling races. The shop was filled with various fashions for the different races, but Camry pointed out the stoutly made traveling clothes, and the woman nodded.
The troll measured Camry, the woman’s long gangly arms stretched a knotted cord from neck to wrist, waist to ankle, and a variety of other measurements, until she muttered her satisfaction. She scratched at her hooked nose, sucking at a tooth that protruded from her mouth as she wrote down what sh
e needed. She looked back to Camry and narrowed her green eyes.
“You the one with Master DraKar?” the troll asked, the words stuttered and slurred except for the sarpand’s name.
Camry nodded, not sure why the troll would refer to DraKar in such a manner.
“I send these to manor when done.”
“Would you like payment now?” Camry offered, pulling out Golas’s coin purse.
The troll shook her head, the long stringy locks of gray hair swayed. “No. Guest of the master is guest of Meerwood.”
Camry slowly put away the purse. “I see.”
Camry returned to the citadel in the center of town and Loya met her as she entered the building.
“I have a meal ready for you in your room, Lady Camry.”
“Thank you.” Camry looked to the regal elf woman. “I’m sorry about the way I treated you.”
Loya gave a little bow to her as they walked. “I understand battle can affect a person’s moods. The Lords can be unpredictable with their manners as well, but they never offer violence if it isn’t brought to them first.”
Camry chewed at the inside of her cheek. “Will you dine with me, Loya? I have questions I think you might be able to answer.”
Loya gave another half bow. “As you say, my lady.”
As they entered Camry’s room she turned to Loya. “And in the morning, let me take DraKar’s meal to him.”
Loya’s face creased with concern. “Lord DraKar has not requested a meal since arriving.”
“Bring me what he would normally eat. I’ll shove it down his maw.”
Loya almost stopped the grin from pulling at the corners of her mouth. “As you say, my lady.”
They talked late into the night, idly eating from the abundance of food that had been prepared for Camry. Loya had a selection of wines brought in, and Camry sampled from each.
“Lord Armagon is dead?” Loya asked for confirmation, chewing at a manicured fingernail.
Camry hesitated. “He was killed. How much do you know about them, DraKar and Armagon?”
“Very little. They come and go, I hear some things about battles, but my job is to be of service while they’re here, and tend to the governing of the town while they’re away.”
“Do they have any friends here? Anyone to confide in?”
“I can’t say for sure. I only saw them speak in depth to each other.”
Camry let the subject drop, she had worried that might be the case. “This town, it has a lot of darklings here, that doesn’t bother you?”
“It means little to me anymore. When I was first hired and brought here, I thought the darklings and sarpand might prove violent, but few are, and if there is a problem, the guards handle it. Most seem glad to have a home, they have to rent or purchase it, but I don’t question how they come by the money. Some is honest work, the others bring in chests of coins from the kingdoms and settle down for a time. It isn’t my concern how they get the money, so long as there is no thieving or coercion here.”
“And the rent and purchases of the buildings are how you pay the guards and other servants here?
“Some.” Loya shrugged. “There is a consumption tax for all goods, the businesses must gather and pay, and all the imports have to pay a tax, except food. But the Lords never let the coffers get low.”
Camry sighed, she hadn’t meant to ask about the tax system for the town, but Loya was more than happy to explain it. The elf did like her economics. She took another long drink from her glass of wine, and Loya refilled it for her.
***
The next morning, Camry woke from a persistent knocking at her door. She groaned and rolled out of her bed, stumbling and smacking her lips against the taste of an evening spent drinking too much wine. Upon opening the door, she saw Loya with a tray laden with food.
Camry scowled at the woman. “You could have the decency of looking like you’re hungover too.”
Loya smiled serenely. “I suggest hurrying with the tray, my lady. Lord DraKar does not like the cooked meats to chill.” She set the tray on the small table they had eaten at the night before. “Shall I help you with your wardrobe?”
Camry rolled her eyes, “No, Loya. I’ll dress appropriately.” She shooed the woman away and hurried to get dressed to take DraKar his food. Maybe she could convince him to play Generals and Champions after he ate?
The tray was heavier than Loya had made it look, and by the time Camry reached DraKar’s door, her arms were aching. Unable to knock without setting the tray down, and likely spilling something in the process, she kicked at the door with the toe of her shoe. It swung open with her first hit, and she looked at it quizzically.
Edging closer, she called inside, “DraKar? Are you in there? I’m coming in.”
There was no sound from inside, no rumbling snore or grumbling reply. Camry shouldered the door open; the room was as dark as it had been the previous day. She hurried to the small eating table and set down the tray, rubbing at her aching arms, and checking to make sure she hadn’t reopened her wound.
Camry went to the window and pulled open the curtains and shutters, letting warm sunlight pour in through the glass. She looked back at the room; she was alone. Nothing was out of place, the bed was tidy, the desk clear, and the shelves neatly arranged. Even Generals and Champions was set up, awaiting players to begin the strategy game. She did see a scroll crushed under the tray she had put down, one end still round beyond the edge of the tray. She slipped it out and read.
Be safe here, child, if it should suit you. I’m not walling myself in, as you suggested. So you cannot lay siege to me either.
She let the paper roll back up and leaned on the table, her voice disappointed, “Damn you.”
Epilogue
318 Br. summer
M adger scratched at the dirt with a stick in dejection. Three years had passed since she’d made her request of the brothers in Meerwood. A year since Armagon’s death and their escape from the Hells and Limbo.
The cool breeze was a welcome reprieve from the hot, muggy air of early summer. The trees swayed with it, a silent dance under the stars. How much longer would she be cursed to wander the earth, to be without a clan? Her hope of being reunited with her family in death was a less plausible dream every day. She hated Armagon for offering her the false hope of entering the Maze.
She threw the stick aside, and settled into her bedding, the anger at being alive smoldering in her stomach. Sleep was difficult to catch with her riled emotions, but eventually, darkness enveloped her.
“Wake child.”
The voice, with a hiss like sand sliding down a dune, and a sound of scales rubbing against each other made Madger open her eyes. Why would she dream of hearing those things?
She looked around, frantic, not understanding where the voice had come from. The shifting of wings and the baritone voice settled in her mind, not her ears. She sat up, searching the familiar campsite and caught sight of a dark sarpand standing nearby. But he was not solid, more shadow than flesh. Moonlight snuck past the canopy of the trees filtered through the black sarpand’s body and struck the ground, unhindered.
“Your request is granted, but first I need you to summon my brother.”
Note from the Author
I nestle this note for those who reach the end searching for more. There will be more. But also as a plea. I ask a little more from you.
A review.
Go to your favorite bookselling sites, your favorite book group sites, and leave a review. Leave a review for books self-published and from the large publishing houses. Most books are only picked up because of word-of-mouth, or the buzz on the internet. A note of encouragement goes a long way.
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M. B. Schroeder, The Titan's Tome
The Titan's Tome Page 39
