Why couldn’t he? There wasn’t any reason for him not to, no reason that he wouldn’t be—and couldn’t be—powered the same way that Arudis was. After the Calling, Fes had seen that many of the people within the village had some level of power. They had to, especially as so many had unable to resist the Calling much better than he had.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you don’t look like someone they would come after,” the boy said.
“You’ve been around for a Calling before?”
The boy shook his head, the corners of his eyes twitching. He glanced up and down the street before looking back at Fes. “There hasn’t been one in a long time.”
“How do you know?”
“They talk about it. All the time. It’s the one thing that we’ve been taught to worry about. A Calling is dangerous to us. But then, you’d know that, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m beginning to know that,” Fes said.
“Why did you come here?”
“I was looking for help for a friend,” he said.
“Help?” The boy shook his head. “We don’t help anyone. Too dangerous.”
“I’ve gathered that,” Fes said.
“What happened to your friend?”
“I didn’t think you cared.”
“I didn’t say that I cared. I was just curious.”
“She was captured by fire mages,” Fes said.
The boy’s eyes widened again. “Fire mages? What are you doing getting mixed up with them?”
“It’s not that I had much choice.”
“You always have a choice. You see a fire mage, you run the other way. Even I know that, and I haven’t come around any fire mages.”
Fes chuckled. There was something about the boy that amused him. “Lately, I’ve seen fire mages, and I’ve had to run toward them. I think I like your plan better.”
The boy shrugged. “Yeah? Most of us know that fire mages are dangerous. You don’t get in their way.”
Fes glanced toward the still-standing home and nodded at it. “Arudis tells me that the fire mages are necessary for your survival.”
The boy shook his head. “She would know better than most.”
“You don’t believe that?”
“I didn’t say that I don’t believe that.”
“You didn’t say that you do, either.”
The boy grinned. “You’re a strange person.”
Fes laughed. “Better strange than some alternatives,” he said.
“Yeah? Such as?”
The door behind him opened with a gust of air, and Fes turned. The woman he’d seen entering now stood in the doorway, and her gaze flickered past Fes to look at the boy. “Geraln, you need to get moving on now.”
“I was just talking with him,” he said.
“And now you’ve talked with him. It’s time for you to move on.”
The boy glanced at Fes before shrugging. “I don’t blame you,” he said.
He scurried off, disappearing along the street, turning the corner so that he faded behind one of the fallen buildings. Fes watched him disappear before turning back to the woman who had arrived. She stared at him with a dark intensity.
“You’re supposed to go in now,” she said.
“Me?”
The woman nodded. The irritation on her face suggested that she wasn’t entirely pleased by the fact that Fes was invited into the home. “If you harm her…”
“I don’t have any intention of harming her,” Fes said.
“If you do, you should know that you won’t leave the village.”
He stepped past her and into the home, not bothering to tell her that it didn’t seem as if he were going to be allowed to leave anyway.
The inside of the home was lit with several lanterns. A bed had been brought out from somewhere and filled the center of the room. A fire glowed in the hearth, crackling warmly. Somewhere, there came the smell of food baking.
Fes focused on the bed in the center of the room, unable to take his eyes off the small form of Arudis lying on the bed. She was breathing slowly, but her eyes were open, and she tilted her head toward him as he entered, waving away the two muscular men standing on either side of the bed.
He approached slowly, concerned about what she might say. How much of this did she blame him for?
“You survived,” Arudis said.
“I suspect I have you to thank for that.”
“The Calling, especially the first one you ever experience—can be quite frightening.”
“What is it?”
“I told you that they want to use you. They want to access the abilities you possess and would use them against you.”
“And you countered it?”
“There was a time when the Deshazl were better equipped to counter their influence. They were stronger, and these others were weaker. Time has changed that so that we are both different. Our people are weaker, and theirs are stronger.”
“I don’t understand. What were they after?”
“They were after Deshazl.”
“How did they know anyone was here?”
“They didn’t.”
“So they simply destroyed the village?”
“They have rarely succeeded in penetrating this deeply into the empire. When they do, usually it’s a few roving bands, a small party that can blend in.”
“And the explosions?”
“It’s their way of drawing us out. They use our connection to the dragons against us.”
Fes shivered. “That was the connection to the dragons?”
“How do you think they manage the power necessary to destroy those buildings?”
He shrugged. “I thought…”
He wasn’t sure what he thought. Just as he wasn’t sure how they would have managed to create such power. What he had seen had been impressive. The homes that had comprised the village were gone, only a few remaining. It was enough to terrify him. He thought of what the fishermen had said, the description of what they had survived, and it was the same as what he had now experienced.
How could these people do that? How could they have so much power that they could simply walk through a village, destroying it?
And the fact that they could, the fact that they wanted him, bothered him just as much. Had Arudis not been there, he had little doubt that he would have felt compelled to step outside of the bunker, and that he would have been claimed by these others.
And there was a part of him that wondered if that were so bad.
Was that a residual effect of the Calling?
“You still feel it,” she asked.
“How is it possible that I do?”
“You are Deshazl.”
“Does everyone else still feel it?”
“Everyone else is part Deshazl, but most have diluted bloodlines. You, Fezarn, are Deshazl.”
“I don’t know what that means for me.”
“It means that you feel it stronger than most. It means that the effect of the Calling would be more potent to you. It means that it was lucky that I was with you.”
“How can I resist it?” That seemed the answer he needed at this point. If he couldn’t learn to resist it on his own, what would happen if he were to encounter these others again?
“To resist requires that you understand that part of yourself.”
“I do understand that part of myself.”
“You understand what you’ve been told. You allow yourself to drown in the heat of Deshazl, but you don’t control it. It controls you. When you can gain control over yourself, when you can begin to master that part of yourself, then you won’t be so beholden to the others. You will be able to withstand their influence, and you won’t have to suffer from it.”
“Who are the others?”
She breathed out as she studied him. “They are known as the Damhur. They come from across the sea. And they would control the Deshazl.”
“Damhur? I don’t understand. W
hy do they hunt Deshazl?”
She hesitated. “They are a dangerous threat to the Deshazl, and therefore, to you. There is much you could learn—that I could teach you—that would ensure your safety.”
Fes stood silently, watching her for a long moment. What she wanted from him was something that he wasn’t sure that he could offer. She wanted him to commit to staying with the Deshazl, and she wanted to train him. He had that sense from her, but if he did that, he abandoned Jayell. How could he abandon Jayell when her capture was his fault as much as anything? The reason that Jaken was there was because of Fes. He wouldn’t have come were it not for what Fes had done to him.
“I don’t have that kind of time,” he said.
“You might think that you don’t have that time, but if you don’t take it, if you don’t allow yourself to learn what you can about who you are and what you can be, then you will forever be held hostage by the risk of them.”
Even the memory of what had happened stayed with him, lingering almost painfully.
“You have too much of the heat of the Deshazl within you. You don’t have enough of the intellect.”
Fes looked over at her, frowning. “That almost seems like an insult.”
“There’s nothing almost about it. You are impulsive. I’ve seen that from you since you came here. Yet, with your bloodline, you are powerful too. You could be even more powerful if you allowed yourself to acknowledge what you are and who you are, and if you were to receive the necessary training, you could be even greater.”
Fes looked around the room, taking note of the pair of guards standing on either side of Arudis. They were there for him, he was sure of it. They worried about what he might do to her, and in this state, she might not be strong enough to oppose him. If he wanted to do something to her, now would be the time.
But then, Fes had no interest in attacking Arudis. If anything, he did want to know more about who he was and where he came from, but with a friend in danger, now wasn’t the time.
“I need to know enough to save my friend.”
“Your friend is not in danger, not as you think.”
“My friend is in danger. You believe that the empire and the power within it is benevolent. You think that the fire mages remember their purpose, but I have seen the way that they use that power. There isn’t benevolence to them. There is only a thirst for power.”
“Enough remain who know,” she said.
“If enough remain, then you don’t need me.”
“You are Deshazl. You need to embrace that part of yourself and embrace who you are meant to be.”
“You keep talking about this as if it were predestined, but it’s not. I might be Deshazl by birth and had my parents not died, it’s possible that I would be here with you.” After talking with her, Fes had begun to wonder whether or not that had been where his parents had been leading him. Maybe they had been heading to meet Arudis. It would make some sense, but if that were where they were taking him, they hadn’t shared that with him. “But time has chosen a different path for me.”
“You get to choose your path, Fezarn.”
“And I am. I’m choosing the path of my friend.”
Arudis watched him for a long moment, her gaze lingering on him. “Have we ever spoken about your name?”
“My name? It’s nothing but a family name.” And a strange one at that. Fes had always known that his name was odd, and had lived with the fact that he never loved it, though he remembered his mother stating it lovingly. How could he love it when it was so different than everyone else’s? It was a strange name, which marked him in some ways.
Until meeting Adoran in Toulen. Then he’d learned it was the name of a dragon.
Did Arudis know that as well?
“A family name. I suppose that would be one way to put it. There are stories from a time long ago. Stories of the Deshazl from their earliest days. Those stories all share common elements. The Deshazl were familiar with dragons, and they embraced that familiarity, embracing the bond. Many of us who know much of the old ways still don’t know how much the ancient Deshazl had bonded to dragons, and whether or not there was anything to that connection, but one thing carries through. The names of dragons.”
She looked up at him, and a trace of a smile came to her lips. Her eyes wrinkled and briefly, a flash of color seemed to come to them. Surprisingly, it reminded Fes of dragon relics, almost as if her wrinkles were striations that he had seen, and the colors within her eyes were the colors of the dragon bones and pearls before use.
“There is one name that is spoken of with a certain reverence. A dragon of great power, a creature that had once soared among the greats.”
She watched Fes, and he knew without her even saying it what she was getting at. Adoran had known the same.
“Fezarn. An elder dragon, revered even in his own time. Revered enough that his name is celebrated and spoken of over generations. You are not the first Fezarn, and you will not be the last.” She reached out, taking his hand. She squeezed with more strength, and she looked as if she had gained some, too. “Be strong like your namesake, Fezarn. Be proud of yourself and who you are. The power of the dragons flows through your blood, the same power that has flowed through the blood of countless Deshazl over the years.”
Fes stared at her. When learning that he had been named after a dragon, and a particularly powerful one at that, he wasn’t sure how he felt. Maybe he should feel awed by it, but he didn’t. He felt only a certain indifference. He didn’t know the dragons, and whether or not he was named after them, the creatures were long ago destroyed, leaving only remnants of their power. He didn’t even know what to think of the fact that he had been told over and over that he had the same power of the dragons. What did that mean for him? All he’d known was that his power had caused him difficulty, trouble that he had hidden from, but then, that power had also allowed him the ability to survive when he might have died. Without that connection, would he have been able to survive in the capital as long as he had? Without it, would he have managed to protect his brother, if only for a little while?
Fes doubted that he would have.
Despite what she said, he still couldn’t feel awed in the way that she wanted him to.
“Where you going to go?” he asked.
“You don’t intend to stay.”
“I can’t. And from what I’ve seen, you don’t need me to help.”
“No. We don’t need you to help. We could help you, though.”
“And I don’t need your help,” he said. That wasn’t entirely true. Having her help, having the help of others like her, might allow him to get to Jayell more easily. If he had others of the Deshazl, others with the same connection to the dragons, then he might not have to worry about whether or not he could rescue her.
But he had been here long enough. The time that he had spent with the Deshazl, with Arudis, had only delayed him from getting to Jayell and helping her.
“You need our help more than you are willing to acknowledge,” Arudis said.
“Probably,” Fes admitted. “But I can’t. I don’t have time. If I get my friend free, then perhaps I can return to you and see what you might be able to teach me about my abilities.”
She studied him for a long moment. When she squeezed his hand, Fes felt a strange trembling within him. It was heat, and it simmered, similar to what he’d felt from the Calling, but this was different. This was the sense of heat and fire that he felt within him when overcome by the anger, allowing that to overtake him, to grant him strength so that he could survive when he otherwise would not.
“What did you do?”
“Perhaps nothing,” she said. “But, if it works, perhaps I will have awoken something within you.”
“I don’t need anything awoken.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “More than you realize, Fezarn.”
Chapter Ten
Fes stood on a hillside, looking all around, trying to decide where he would
go. He needed help, which meant that he would have to risk reaching out to someone who might or might not offer him the assistance he needed. Regardless of what Arudis had said about the rebellion, Fes had a hard time reconciling that with what he knew of people like Alison.
And it wasn’t her who he needed to ask for help, though he didn’t know if Horus would agree. Fes hadn’t been the most faithful when it came to serving Horus. Then again, he had more to offer the man this time. A trade. Artifacts for his help in rescuing Jayell. Only, Fes didn’t know whether he would agree.
It was the last place he thought he could go for help. Desperation made for terrible partnerships, even though he knew better. And Jayell’s time was limited.
Even as he stood there, his mind kept drifting back to Arudis, lying almost helpless on the bed, and the strange sense of power that had surged through him when she squeezed his hand. There had been something to that, and though she called it an awakening, he didn’t know whether or not that was what he had felt.
Morning broke, sending into the sky streaks of color that reminded him of a dragon pearl. He smiled, that memory giving him the necessary motivation to take a step forward and head out across the hills, and make his way toward the capital.
With each step, he tried to figure out how long it would take to get there, and from there, he tried to think about how long it would take to return to find where the fire mages had kept Jayell. As he walked, he pushed away thoughts of what might’ve happened to her. He needed to focus on the task at hand, and nothing more than that.
The day passed quickly and flowed into another day, neither of them unpleasant. Eventually, he came across a road, and he took that, following it as he headed toward the capital. Others would join him on the road, he was certain of that, and when they did, he needed to be prepared.
He glanced down at the sword sheathed in his belt. He could conceal the one on his back, his cloak covering it, and he could hide the daggers, but the dragonglass sword that he shoved through his belt didn’t have much of a place.
When he reached the city, that sword would draw attention. Worse, that sword might help the Dragon Guard realize who he was. In the capital, he didn’t need to worry about members of the Dragon Guard coming at him. They would come, and he didn’t think that he would be strong enough to overpower them, not if it came to that.
Dragon Rise (The Dragonwalker Book 3) Page 10
