Book of One 04: A Child of Fire
Page 27
"She is under great strain," Margo said. "She needs warmth and rest."
"Then we should turn back," Keira replied. "Between us, we can carry her."
Margo stared out into the swirling snow that surrounded them, looking back the way they had come then ahead in the direction Ariana had led them and, in the distance, she saw something. She stood and squinted her eyes, looking toward the grey horizon ahead and she sniffed the air.
"Do you smell that?" she asked.
"I believe my senses have been frozen," Keira said, but she did notice something on the air. "It is the smell of smoke."
"It is," Margo said. "Often smoke signals fire, and though you elves prefer as little of it as possible in your forests, fire usually means people, and it certainly means warmth. I say we continue."
She bent down and helped Keira pick up the princess, and the two of them trudged through the snow, carrying Ariana between them, with her arms hung limply over their shoulders.
*****
Borrican awoke, his thoughts a swirl of images, of faces he recognized but could not name, of dragon scales and claws, writhing in the darkness, of wings and fire and of heavy, iron chains. He heard his own voice, screaming beneath the angry roar of the dragon, raging at the minds that would not answer him. He slowly opened his eyes and saw the orange glow of lava flowing nearby, illuminating the inside of the cavern that surrounded him. Borrican realized that he could barely move and he glanced from side to side, and saw that he was bound by thick chains, made of black metal. They stretched to every side of the cavern holding him in place, with his arms and legs outstretched and his neck held tightly, allowing him to move only a little.
Borrican looked down and saw a girl, sitting naked with her back to him, by the edge of the lava, her feet dangling in its heat as though it were a stream of water. Her skin was golden underneath her dark brown curls and the red glow of the molten river made illuminated her face as she turned at the sound of the chains moving. Her eyes glimmered with fire in the heat of the lava and when she rose and walked toward him, Borrican could see that her fingers and toes glittered at their tips with long, pointed nails that were seemingly adorned with gemstones. Though her form was not that of a dragon, Borrican knew her by her scent.
"Vale," he said. "Why am I chained?"
"You do not remember," she said, staring up at him.
"I do not remember," Borrican said, repeating her words and knowing the truth of them. "What happened?"
"You fought the drakes and went wild," Vale told him. "I could barely get you away from them, Borrican. You are much stronger than you seem."
"I didn't hurt anyone, did I?"
"Nothing that a few days in the flows won't heal," she said.
"Then why am I here, like this?"
"I tried, Borrican," she said. "Before the others found you, I attempted the bonding, but it did not take. For a short time, it seemed as though it had, but it slipped away and you became wild again. The others agreed to let me keep you here for a time, but you must remain in chains."
"And then what?"
"When your thoughts have become truly lost, they will come," she told him. "You will die."
"What?" Borrican felt the rage burning inside him and he pulled at the chains that held him tight. "Let me free, Vale. I will leave. I will go far away, where there is no one."
"Please, Borrican, try to be calm," she said. "Your anger feeds the wildness and without a queen to temper you, the rage of a dragon will consume you. It would be better if such a thing would not happen, but there is no sense in rushing toward it."
Borrican stopped and focused on calming himself. She was right that his anger would not help, and he needed time to think, to find a way out of this.
"Why are you in that form?" he asked.
"I thought it might please you to see a form that is familiar to you, that you might be reminded of those you care about."
"I am, but I am also reminded of my duty to protect those people and all the people of my lands," he said.
"Kandara. I learned of it during the bonding."
"You learned of it?"
"I know all that you know," Vale told him. "It is part of bonding, to share the wisdom. Your thoughts are shown to me, and mine to you. That is how it is supposed to happen, but I was only able to share your thoughts. You could not see mine, thus the bonding was incomplete."
"Try again," Borrican said. "Maybe it was unsuccessful the first time but it might work a second time."
"You do not remember," she said with a faint smile. "I tried more than once, and several times more than I should have. Bonding is not easy, Borrican."
Borrican slumped in the chains, letting them take his weight.
"So this is my fate, to hang here until I am to be killed?"
"Yes," Vale said, and a tear fell from the corner of her eye.
"You are saddened by this?" Borrican asked. "I did not think you cared."
"I shared your thoughts," she said. "I know many things now that I did not understand before. This form is also different, and more prone to such emotions. I did not understand that either."
"I did not know that you could take such a form," Borrican said.
"I learned it from you."
"If you learned it from me, then why can I not return?"
"You are consumed by the dragon within you," she said. "Only if you are calm and the fires of your thoughts are brought low can you leave your dragon shape to become a creature such as this. The wildness prevents you from becoming like this."
"How long do I have before the others come?" Borrican asked.
"I do not know," Vale said. "My mother has spoken to the elders again. So long as you remain as you are now, they will not harm you, but if you succumb to the rage then there is little either she or I can do to protect you. The elders have agreed to let you remain like this, but when the time comes, we will be the ones to deal with the consequences."
"What does that mean?"
"It means at least we will be the ones to end your life," Vale said, as though it was somehow a positive thing.
"That offers me little comfort, Vale," Borrican told her.
"I know," she said with a frown. "Among dragons, it might, but you are a dragon of Kandara and your ways are different from those of the rest of dragonkind. It is not as though we would relish such a task, but that you would be among those who are not indifferent to you."
"I suppose it's nice to die among friends instead of enemies," Borrican said.
"The other dragons are not your enemies," Vale said. "They merely do what must be done. It has ever been the case with wildlings."
Borrican understood what she was saying and though he did not like what she was telling him, he knew that she was right. If he had truly become a danger to everyone around him and there was no way to stop him, then it seemed that there was only one thing left to be done.
"Why not just keep me here?" he suggested.
Vale smiled wistfully then shook her head.
"Those chains will not hold you," she said. "You are already powerful, Borrican, and you will only grow stronger."
"Then this is how I am to meet my end, in chains?"
"Sadly, yes."
"No," Borrican said. "I won't let it happen. I will fight it."
*****
Brian stopped at the split in the passage, curious about where the other two passages might lead. The tournament would not begin for another two days, so he would have ample time to explore the city and gather information, but he decided in the meantime he should probably explore the tunnels under the city in case they might provide him with other ways out of Maramyr in case he ran into trouble. He followed the passage to the right and after walking for a short while he found another door, which opened easily and Brian found himself in a well stocked root cellar. At the far end was an old, stone staircase that had seen better days but was serviceable and he made his way up to the top and carefully opened the door. The pungent smel
ls and rauchous noise of a tavern were unmistakeable and, through the crack in the door, he saw several cooks busily preparing food.
Brian wished there was a way he could find out which tavern it was, but there was no way to get past the cooks without being noticed and one of them was sure to come looking for something in the cellar before long so he dared not tarry. He knew it was early evening, which was likely the busiest time for the tavern, and thought it might be better for him to return late at night, when things would be be more quiet and he might stand a better chance of sneaking in and out of the kitchen. He made his way back through the tunnel and took the one that ran in the other direction and, before long, he found himself at another split, with a tunnel leading left and one leading right. He took the left passage, which also led downward. As he made his way down, he noticed that the air seemed damp and the walls of the passage were soon tinted green with moss and mottled with roots that had wormed their way through the stone.
Instead of a door, the end of the tunnel was like a large version of the stone cover that hid the opening mechanisms on the other doors. Like an illusion cut into the rock, the tunnel opened through a sideways cut and another one right after it that led out to a thick tangle of vines that had overgrown the entrance to the tunnel. Brian pulled a small knife from his belt and cut away a few of the vines, making an opening just large enough for him to pass through and he found himself in what looked like an old shrine of some kind. It too was overgrown with vines and even a few small trees, but at its center was a stone fountain that still bubbled with water, which spilled over its edge and ran down what looked like an old path.
Brian followed the path and the trickle of water and soon found himself at the shore of a large lake. High above, in the direction from which he had come, he saw the city walls and the palace towering overhead and, further along the shoreline, he saw a small village, with simple wooden docks and dozens of small fishing boats. He made his way back up the path and into the tunnels again, not sure what use he might have for the passage that led to Lake Mara, but he was glad to know it existed.
He followed the final passage, which led in the direction of where he had seen the palace and he soon encountered another door. It opened easily and Brian found himself in a large, empty, stone room. At the far end was a heavy, wooden door, which he carefully opened and found himself in a stone hallway that was lit by braziers mounted along the walls. He had the distinctive feeling that he as somewhere he definitely should not be, and thought about turning back, but his curiosity got the better of him so he quietly made his way along the hallway, listening for the sounds of anyone who might approach.
At the end of the hall was a wide stone staircase that was well lit with torches and led upward. Since he was fairly sure that he was somewhere underneath the palace, Brian thought it might be too risky to explore any further so he started to make his way back to the passage when he heard a voice through one of the doors along the hallway.
"I can hear you."
Brian froze and gripped the shaft of one of his axes, ready to draw it.
"I know you're there. I can hear you breathing."
Brian cautiously moved closer to the door, resisting the urge to leave.
"Are you afraid?" the voice said with a laugh. "I can do you no harm. You could kill me if you like."
Brian was curious but he waited outside the door, debating whether to open it or not.
"I could yell," the voice said. "I could yell and bring down the guards. Then Cerric and his mages would search and he would know someone has been sneaking around the dungeons. Do you want me to yell? I can yell very loud. I can roar."
Brian lifted the latch and slowly opened the door. Inside was a large room that was empty except for a large, angled wooden platform at its center. Laying atop it and bound with chains was some kind of creature, the likes of which Brian had never seen before, but he heard stories. He entered the room and slowly walked toward it and he noticed a large table next to the platform, covered with cruel looking metal instruments, all of them covered in blood.
"That's it," the creature said. "Come closer and see what he has done to me, and don't worry. I can hear the guards and the mages and even Cerric. I will tell you if they are coming."
"You are one of those Darga, a lizard man," Brian said.
"No," he said with a laugh. "I am not a Darga, though perhaps that is what I have become. Tell me, what do I look like? I cannot tell, for my eyes have been taken from me."
As he drew closer, Brian saw the dried and crusted blood on the creature's eyes and the dark stains of blood that ran from the platform to the floor. Strangely, other than the creature's eyes, he did not appear to be injured, despite the copious amounts of dried blood.
"Have others been tortured here?" Brian asked.
"Why would you say that?"
"These tools, and the blood," Brian said.
"No, it is all mine. You see, I heal very quickly thanks to my curse."
"Curse?"
"The curse of the beast, the creature that I am becoming. Tell me what you see. Tell me honestly. I will not take offense to honest words, and I will know if you are speaking truthfully. I have heard enough lies to know the difference."
"I see a creature," Brian said. "You are like a man, but also like a lizard, with black scales on your arms and legs, and with the face of a man but the mouth of a lizard, with pointed teeth and fangs."
"It is as I thought," he said. "Cerric will soon have what he desires."
"Who are you?" Brian asked.
The creature turned his head and, if it were not for his bloodied eyes being closed, Brian thought his expression looked like one of sorrow and a tear of blood slowly trickled down the side of his face.
"I am no one," he said. "I am shame and cowardice and not worthy of the name I was given and to which I was born. Tell me, friend, what is your name?"
"How do you know I am a friend?" Brian asked.
"I know you are not one of them," the creature said. "Perhaps you are not a friend, but you are not an enemy. I can hear it in the beat of your heart and the quickening of your breath. You are not one of them, and you have spoken truthfully. After so many lies, to hear such words, simply spoken in truth, is a gift to me, so I thank you for your honesty, good sir."
"You said Cerric keeps you here," Brian said. "You speak of the king?"
"I speak of the cur, the foul and cruel, lying beast, who is not worthy of a crown, but yes, that is his name."
"Why are you his prisoner? Why does he keep you here and do these things to you?"
"He wants the power I possess," the creature said. "He has taken everything else from me, all with lies, and now he wants this curse as well."
"You said you could tell what is truth. How could Cerric lie to you without you knowing it?"
"It is the curse," the creature said. "Cerric seeks to draw it out of me, and though it is terrible there are some things about it that are useful, one of which is to hear many things and to know when lies are spoken. Cerric does not know of this, but I know his lies, and I hear the lies he tells to others. I can hear him now, speaking to his queen, in a room high above this place. He is lying to her, but she lies to him as well."
Brian was not sure what to think about the king and queen and the things they might say to one another, but he felt badly for the creature, who was trapped here and being tortured by Cerric. He wanted to free him, but doing so would mean jeapordizing his mission and, unlike the creature, who claimed to be able to sense if someone was lying, he had no such power and it was possible that the creature might also be lying.
"I would like to help you," Brian said. "But I do not know what to do. I am here to learn more about Cerric's plans, nothing more."
"You speak the truth," the creature said. "If you wish to help me, you will kill me. That would be the greatest thing you could do."
"I cannot kill you," Brian said. "I would not."
"That is unfortunate."
> "I could free you, but I do not know what to do after that."
"No," the creature said, sharply. "I must not be set free. When the beast grows within me, I am a danger to all and I would kill you without a thought."
"Then what can I do to help you?" Brian asked.
"Nothing. If you will not kill me, then there is nothing you can do." The creature sighed and Brian thought he saw a faint puff of smoke waft from his reptilian nostrils. "Perhaps I can help you. You wish to learn of Cerric's plans. What would you like to know?"
Brian thought carefully, realizing that if he asked too many questions, the creature could learn more about him.
"What about the war?" he asked. "Kandara has fallen. What does Cerric intend now?"
"He plans to invade the lands of the elves."
"But why return the army to Maramyr? It would be faster to travel directly to Elvanar."
"His army is not strong enough. The elves are fearsome warriors, so he will need fearsome warriors of his own. That is why he holds this tournament, so he can gather the best fighters and make them powerful."
"And what about the soldiers who turned against him?" Brian asked, hoping the creature might mention something about Lord Kaleb.
"They follow the princess of Maramyr, Ariana, the rightful queen. At even the mention of her name and of those who have sided with her, Cerric becomes furious. It is perhaps my only source of amusement, to know how angered he is that she has eluded him."
"And those who have sided with her?" Brian asked. "They are soldiers of Maramyr and their commanders? What do you know of them?"
"Very little, except that they are now among the elves," he said. "Cerric suspects a few of them may come to Maramyr for the tournament to gather information, but he does not seem concerned about it, though I know not why. I can tell you are not one of them, or you would not be asking me such questions though I think they may be your allies. Am I right?"
Brian knew he had already said too much and thought it was best that he take his leave, but before he could say anything, the creature continued.