Balear could finally move again, although he far preferred the numbness from earlier. At least then, he didn’t need to deal with every muscle screaming at him. Despite it, he pushed through the pain, determined. Dirio had come by already, trailed by Veliaf’s populace. They’d offered to carry him back to the village, but he’d declined. He couldn’t go back yet, because the one person in all of Lodia that Balear wanted to walk by hadn’t: Captain Angustion.
With extreme effort, Balear dragged himself down the tunnel and deeper into the cavern. On each step, he repeated the same word in his head, a mantra meant to force him onward when his body might otherwise fail him. Captain . . .
He stopped briefly when he reached the lake room, but finding the chamber devoid of life, Balear quickly pressed on. His vision grew hazy, and he needed to stop every hundred feet just to keep from passing out again. At one point, he reached a chamber that looked like a study, with a large wooden writing desk piled high with parchment. Candles lit the room, and to Balear’s great satisfaction, a comfortable-looking chair sat next to the desk. Deciding the captain could wait a little longer, he fell into the seat.
He rested for several minutes, his strength slowly returning. His breathing calmed, and his vision sharpened. Absentmindedly, he picked up a few of the sheets on the desk and rifled through them, reading a few words here and there to test his eyesight. He’d skimmed several pages when his heart caught in his chest.
At first he doubted his own eyes, but when he flipped back to the top page of the stack, there it was. He would recognize that handwriting anywhere. The blocky script perfectly matched that on Rondel’s waiver before they’d left Haldessa. He hastily shifted his gaze to the bottom of the page, where, sure enough, he found Rondel’s signature.
He furrowed his brow, confused as to why the Quodivar would have writing of Rondel’s. It looked recent, too. The date at the top matched the day they began this mission.
The fact that he sat alone and vulnerable in the heart of the enemy’s base no longer bothered him. Even the need to find Captain Angustion vanished. All Balear’s attention focused on the page before him. As he read it, his hands shook.
“Great Leaders of the Quodivar,” he read, “I send humble greetings. It is time. Amroth, the fool, comes to kill you in stealth. In so doing, he leaves his beloved home without a captain to defend it. It is the chance we have long waited for, to strike Haldessa, obliterating it and its oafish king.
“Even with your combined strength, however, winning will be difficult. Neither of you has siege weapons capable of toppling Haldessa’s walls, but fortunately, I know another method. Haldessa’s baths are filled by a canal which connects to the nearby river. Each day, precisely at noon, the canal gates open to fill the baths. Strike then. Send an elite group through one of those tunnels, and they can open the castle gate, letting the rest of your army into the castle.
“I will force Amroth to bring me with him, to monitor his progress. I also plan to gain us a new recruit, a Maantec boy named Iren Saitosan, who Amroth selected for his team. Iren has suffered at the hands of Lodia, and once he knows his origins, he will surely support us in revenge.
“Already tasting success, Rondel Thara.”
In a flash, events since their mission began snapped into focus. While Amroth delivered the waivers back at Haldessa, Rondel had disappeared, ostensibly to get more alcohol. In reality, the traitorous witch had secretly written this letter and added it to the morning’s post. Mail carriers traveled fast, faster than their group had, so of course this letter arrived well in advance of them. She’d probably sent it to Veliaf, which was already under Quodivar control. She had convinced Captain Angustion to bring her along, even though he didn’t want her. Even teaching Iren had served her own reasons. She’d wanted to gain his trust so she could convert the ignorant Left to the Quodivar. With the devil magic the pair of them possessed, Rondel and Iren’s combined strength would make the Quodivar invincible.
Worst of all, this letter explained why the cavern had so few defenders. The Quodivar and Yokai were already marching to Haldessa. The city would be caught completely unprepared.
“So now you know,” a grim voice said from behind him. Balear jumped so high he fell out of his chair and onto the rock floor. He drew his sword from the ground, expecting any second to die at Rondel’s blade, but then he stopped short. Captain Angustion’s pitying stare met his own.
“Sir!” Balear was so happy at seeing his commander alive that for a second he forgot the terrible letter.
The captain nodded. “I saw you coming from farther up the tunnel, but I wanted you to learn the truth for yourself. After they captured me, the Quodivar put my sword in here. When I stopped to recover it, I saw the letter. I’ve suspected Rondel for some time, but I could never prove anything. After all, she did kill quite a few Quodivar along the way. She clearly has no qualms about sacrificing her allies to achieve her ultimate goal. But then, why would a Left care about human lives?”
Balear gulped. “Where is she now?”
Amroth motioned up the tunnel. “You’d better see for yourself. Come, and bring that letter.”
As they walked, Amroth said, “This passage leads to a fort inside Akaku. Rather, it used to. The fort’s in ruins, and much of the forest around it is burning.”
“What happened?”
“Treason. Rondel and Iren tried to kill the two Quodivar leaders.”
Balear gave the captain a confused look. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would Rondel kill the Quodivar leaders if she works for them?”
“To lead the Quodivar herself and to prevent them from exposing her. At least, so I guess. Her plan didn’t work out the way she intended.”
Balear cocked an eyebrow to prompt an explanation.
“Rondel counted, as I did, on Iren having enough strength to help defeat the Quodivar leaders,” Amroth said. “He proved too weak, and Rondel couldn’t match both Zuberi and an Oni at the same time. They killed her. I arrived at the end of the tunnel right as it happened.”
“I suppose Iren died too, then,” Balear said. A highly bizarre and unexpected pang of sadness struck him.
Surprisingly, the captain grinned. “Not quite. There’s more to that boy than I ever imagined. When Rondel died, Iren lost control and fired off some kind of white beam that killed both Quodivar leaders in one shot. It had so much energy that even from where I stood, its shockwave knocked me flat. By the time I recovered, Iren had disappeared, taking one of the Quodivar’s own horses and heading west.”
When the pair exited the tunnel, Balear gasped at the ruin around him. The forest fire had mostly subsided, but everything within half a mile was scorched. A few of the larger trunks still burned, giving the scene a haunting glow. Three horses, the sole escapees of the Quodivar’s stables, nursed their wounds as they wandered through the charred remains.
Though cowed by the devastation, Balear forced his thoughts back to the letter. “Sir, we should take those horses and ride to Haldessa! The Quodivar army is on its way there!”
Captain Angustion frowned. “Yes, but we have a second problem. When Iren left, I noticed someone else with him: a Kodama from Ziorsecth. I don’t know if Rondel converted Iren or not, but based on that letter, we know she meant to. I fear we may have seen only a glimpse of Rondel’s grand design.”
“Grand design?”
“The Kodama provides the perfect cover for Iren to flee the country. Once he reaches Ziorsecth, Iren can convert the Kodamas and other nations to Rondel’s cause. In the worst case scenario, we could face enemies on all sides. If Iren convinces our neighbors to attack us, Lodia will be overwhelmed.”
Balear blanched. Even if they militarized the entire populace, they couldn’t defeat a combined attack from the Quodivar, Yokai, Kodamas, and Tengu. “What can we do?” he cried. “We have to help Haldessa! We have no time to chase Iren!”
“Not necessarily. The crux of Rondel’s plan for Haldessa revolves around the baths’ cana
l. If I alert the king in time, he can order the canal gate shut. The Quodivar won’t be able to infiltrate, and our archers will easily pick off their army from the safety of the castle walls. The king will follow my recommendations without question, so I’ll go to Haldessa and try to prevent it from falling. You must ride west and find Iren. Bring him back to the castle, even if you have to kill him.”
Balear nodded, tucking the incriminating letter from Rondel in his pocket. As he did, terrible worry swelled inside him. “Captain, what happens if you meet the Quodivar army along the way?”
A mad grin took the mighty soldier. “Then may the dragons protect me. But no more time! We must ride!”
With that, they each mounted a Quodivar horse and rode in opposite directions. Balear careened through Akaku, though each footfall of his steed nearly made him swoon. His body screamed at him to stop, to rest, perhaps even to curl up in a corner and die. Very soon, he would need to find a place to camp and recover, but not just yet. He couldn’t let Captain Angustion down. He would locate Iren, and if the boy really had betrayed Lodia and chosen Rondel, the devil-child would die by Balear’s hand.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Magic and Minawë
When Iren finally came to, at first he thought he hadn’t. He opened and closed his eyes repeatedly, but he could tell no difference. His vision gradually adjusted, and the dim shapes of tall, spire-like conifers came into focus above him. He remained in Akaku Forest, probably surrounded by enemies. Through the dense trees, he spotted a couple stars. That meant he’d been unconscious at least half a day.
The smell of burning wood called him to attention. He forced himself into a crouch and reached for the Muryozaki, but its sheath lay empty on his hip.
“Still alive, huh?” a strong, feminine voice asked. He might have considered it melodious, if only it hadn’t sounded so aggravated.
Turning to face the speaker, Iren saw the Kodaman woman sitting on a fallen log, tending a campfire with a stick. He stumbled over and took a seat next to the fire, opposite her. The soothing heat and crackling wood did wonders for his frayed nerves and exhausted body. “I’m glad you’re awake,” he began, but she cut him off.
“What brings you to this forest, Maantec?” She pronounced the last word like a curse.
Iren decided the best thing to do was not to get riled up. Instead, he grinned innocently and replied, “I rescued you from the Quodivar, and now I’m taking you back to Ziorsecth.”
She folded her arms and scowled. “Moron.”
His eyebrow twitched at the insult. This stupid Kodama was just like everyone else. He should ditch her in the woods. It would serve her right.
Rondel’s final words, however, echoed in his head. She’d knowingly sacrificed herself so that he could escape and help this Kodama return home. He wondered if Rondel had known what a pain the woman was. Probably not. Then again, considering the Kodama’s tone, the pair might have gotten along. Actually, the woman reminded him a little of Rondel. Aside from the prickly attitude, her deep green eyes were the same shade as the crone’s.
“Sorry,” he said, sarcasm involuntarily rising in his throat, “but I have instructions, and I don’t plan on leaving your side. You’re stuck with me until we get to Ziorsecth. Now where’s my sword?”
She shrugged. “Not here.”
Iren nearly fainted as the final moments of the battle replayed themselves in his memory. Zuberi had kicked away the Muryozaki. It probably still lay there, amid the charred remains of the forest. He swore. What was he supposed to do now, without Rondel, Amroth, or Divinion to guide him? He didn’t even have a simple blade to defend himself! Worse, the stupid Kodama had set up camp smack in the middle of Akaku. If the Yokai attacked them now, they wouldn’t stand a chance.
“You needn’t worry,” the woman said. “We’re perfectly safe here. There aren’t any Yokai near us.”
He gave her a disbelieving look. “Oh, and how do you know that?”
She pointed at the trees. “The owls.”
“Owls?”
“Of course. Can’t you hear them hooting? They only do that when they feel calm and unthreatened. If Yokai were around, the owls would either fall silent or leave.”
Iren shook his head. “We’re totally unarmed and defenseless here, and you’re telling me you’ve entrusted our safety to a bunch of dumb birds?”
She sighed. “Typical Maantec moron.”
“Hey, I went to the trouble of rescuing you!” he replied. “Why do you keep calling me a moron?”
“Because you are. You have no idea what’s going on, or what you’re meddling in.”
He growled with frustration. “I know exactly what I’m meddling in. I’m saving your life. You could at least tell me your name.”
The Kodama said nothing for a moment. Finally, she answered curtly, “Minawë.”
Iren extended his hand. “I’m Iren Saitosan, Minawë. Nice to meet you.”
Minawë eyed Iren’s palm like it bore some terrible disease. “Moron.”
Exasperated, Iren threw up his hands. “What makes me a moron now?”
“Kodamas don’t shake hands. When we greet a friend, we do this.” She placed the index and middle fingers of her right hand vertically over her chest. When Iren smiled and imitated the gesture, she flushed angrily and turned away.
Several silent minutes passed. Iren knew he should rest, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Perhaps he feared Minawë might run off if he took his eyes off her, but he also felt a mysterious draw toward her, even though she kept insulting him.
“So,” he said, “how did you wind up imprisoned so far from home?”
Minawë glanced into the canopy, then said harshly, “I won’t tell you. You bear both the name and weapon of our greatest enemy.”
Iren was taken aback. “Your greatest enemy?”
“Moron, you don’t even know your own history? A thousand years ago, the Maantecs started a war to subjugate the other species on Raa. Among those who still remember such things, that conflict is called the Kodama-Maantec War, although it involved all the races on Raa. After fifty years, we beat back the Maantecs until at last they retained only their original territory, Serona, west of Ziorsecth Forest. The Maantec emperor refused to surrender. As the Kodamas marched on the Maantec capital, he stood atop his tower at its center and uttered a foul curse.”
Iren forced himself to ask the follow-up question, “What did the curse do?”
Minawë stared into the flames. “You know that Kodamas who leave Ziorsecth die, right? That wouldn’t happen naturally. The Maantec emperor, with the aid of none other than Divinion himself, altered the structure of our bodies. He died in the process, but his spell nevertheless slaughtered every Kodama on the battlefield that day. It all but wiped out our species.” She glared at him. “I awoke during your fight with the big human. I saw you use that beam against him. You consider yourself the Holy Dragon Knight? What nonsense! You’re just like him, just like Iren Saito.”
Shock ripped through Iren. “You bear both the name and weapon of our greatest enemy,” she had said. Now he understood. He was named after the last emperor of the Maantecs, a Holy Dragon Knight who had perverted Divinion’s magic for his own dream of conquest.
Iren clenched his teeth. Rondel had named him. Why would she name him after such a horrible person? An image of the old hag’s lifeless body flashed before him. He’d never learn the answer now.
Still, he refused to accept that he could be like Iren Saito as Minawë had claimed. In frantic defense he cried, “You can’t lump me in with some conqueror from a thousand years ago because of what I did at the fort. I don’t even know what happened! I didn’t have the Muryozaki, yet I still used Divinion’s magic.”
Minawë rolled her eyes. “Moron, that doesn’t make it better. That beam didn’t come from Divinion’s magic. It came from yours.”
Iren started, perplexed. “I don’t have any magic,” he countered. “The only magic I’ve ever used came
from the Muryozaki.”
“Naturally,” she replied, as though his quandary made perfect sense. “You probably never received any training. Back at the fort, your body reacted instinctively, prompted by strong emotions and your life-threatening situation. It used your magic first to shield you, and then to slay your opponent.”
“I told you, I don’t have any magic!”
“Except for humans, every sentient species on Raa has magic. They draw it passively from the environment without even thinking. It’s part of our biology. The way Mother explained it to me, our bodies have ‘semipermeable membranes.’ Magic can flow in, but it can’t escape. Unless, of course, the person forces it out in the form of a spell. Mother could tell you more, if we make it to Ziorsecth.”
Although he couldn’t decide whether he believed Minawë about him having magic or not, Iren smiled a little. Though only in passing, the Kodama for the first time sounded accepting of the idea that he would accompany her to Ziorsecth. Wanting to keep her in a good mood, he decided to at least act like he believed her. He said, “So our bodies absorb magic passively, and we use it in spells. But until the fort, I never cast a spell. Does that mean I have eighteen years worth of magic stored inside me?”
Minawë shook her head. “No, although you absorb magic at a constant rate, your body can only hold so much. Think of the magic as water and your body as a bucket. The water pours into the bucket, but at some point, if the bucket isn’t emptied, the water simply spills out. Using magic can increase the amount your body can hold, but overusing it can deplete your biological magic.”
Up until now, Iren had followed her well enough, but now he got thoroughly confused. “Biological magic?”
“Yes, the magic that sustains life. Biological magic allows us to grow, to survive, to exist. Like food and rest, biological magic preserves us. Its presence keeps us young and fit, and it’s the reason for our immortality.”
Iren put up a hand. “That’s enough. I’ve played along to this point, but now I know you’re just seeing how far you can take this. I know I’m not immortal. I’m eighteen, and I’ve grown up at the same rate as all the humans my age.”
The Wings of Dragons: Book One of the Dragoon Saga Page 13
