“Calli!”
__________
Jayson
Jayson pounded on the clear, faceted encasing. Calli stood frozen in time, trapped in a coffin of crystal.
The laughter focused into one source behind him that set his hair on end. He whirled. “You!”
Lusiradrol’s smirk ignited his soul in a rage he barely restrained. Letting go was what she wanted, though, and he refused to give it to her.
“What do you want?” None of his magic had any effect on the crystal. He would need a greater power than his own. The Light inside him cooled his temper with reason. Releasing the darker side of his being would help no one, least of all Calli.
“So close.” The chiding of her voice taunted him. “Too bad she’ll never reach Eyr Droc.”
She would reach Eyr Droc. He’d be sure of that. Jayson clamped his jaw on an outburst. The last time he dared rebuke her, she threw him against a rock. This time he could not risk Calli’s life, nor his own. He’d find a way to release Calli, but he needed time, and help.
With casual grace, she strode around him to stand beside Calli. “She lives, mage…for now. The rest depends on you.”
Jayson stiffened. She used Calli to get to him. He would never abandon Calli nor risk her life. Lusiradrol knew of his deep feelings for her. “Set her free.”
“Or what?”
Or what was right. What could he say? Lusiradrol would not hesitate to end her life at any time if he disobeyed. He despised her, but saw no other choice but to concede to her. “What do you wish of me?”
A malicious smile curved up her face. “There’s a good lad. You know what I wish: Bring me the princess.”
His heart stopped. Had he heard right? Nothing was worth risking Istaria’s life, not even to save Calli.
“She will make a nice decoration for Tyrkam’s son, or a game for his amusement.” Lusiradrol traced her finger along a face of the crystal.
She could have pricked the dark place he hid deep inside. A trickle of malice flowed through him, pushing him to attack. Not yet. The time would come, but he was not capable of taking her on alone.
Never had he expected such a choice. He refused to allow Calli to be used this way; but, while his emotions demanded that he cooperate for the sake of holding her again, he could not risk their greatest hope to defeat her. He wanted to. Selfish desire battled the reason of knowing that was exactly what she wanted. How could he consider Calli greater than the world, which was what he risked if he handed over the princess?
“You’ll have to do it yourself.”
Lusiradrol shrugged. “Then you’ll never see her again. Bring the princess to Wynmere and she will be released. If not—”
The sly smile crept up black-red lips.
If not, you’ll see that she suffers, or dies, or suffers and dies.
In a swirl of fire the woman disappeared with Calli. Jayson stood alone in the chill of the mountain pass.
Calli, was this her plan? Had she expected this; that I cannot refuse to see you suffer for my duty? His eyes burned despite the cold. How would he save Calli but not sacrifice Istaria? How could he have let this happen? They had almost reached safety, the Second Realm, where darkness could not touch.
So close. He had not noticed her presence until she trapped Calli. Perhaps the amount of magic he used had drained him more than he expected.
Or Lusiradrol knew how to mask her presence. He sensed nothing near the inn in Selton either, when Calli claimed to see her.
The prospect of losing Calli after finding her once more tore him in two. He would do anything to save her, but stopped short at the idea of handing the princess over for Lusiradrol to banish the white dragon, their only hope of destroying her.
Damn her! He fell to his knees in the cold snow but found no solace in the tears cooling his cheeks. He had one choice—to reach Eyr Droc. Perhaps Darius could help.
Or the princess had gained enough power to face Lusiradrol.
He would never leave Calli again.
__________
Marjan
General Marjan gazed out the window of the third floor of the fortress overlooking the valley clouded in mist. Storm clouds passed by without dropping the threatened snow, but they left the air thick with humidity. He held no doubts that the valley’s magic protection saved them.
Behind him, the men argued over who should be sent to gather information about the movements of the red dragons.
Of the twelve groups who had left Arronfel since they arrived, only seven had returned. Calli and her group were among the missing. No others dared to leave the comfort and safety of the valley.
He took a deep breath, clamping his jaw on the frustrations boiling up at the table of officers behind him. “A woman dares tread where a seasoned warrior will not?”
The bickering ceased, hanging on his words.
The meat of the animal. None would admit she possessed more courage than any of them, but they knew it in their hearts.
He could not show he knew and erased the satisfaction of his righteousness from his face before turning to them with a stern frown. “Your argument is for naught. No one in this room has the courage o’ the lass and her friends. Not one o’ you volunteered to join her, nor to set foot outside this haven. Lesser cowards could not live outside.”
Scowls creased war-hardened faces. Muscles tightened on a few, primed for a fight to defend their honor.
“You challenge us?”
Marjan met Kale’s cold glare with all the authority granted him. “I challenge you to stand by your honor.”
The scruffy blonde with the scattered braids as the only means to control his unruly hair straightened to his full height. His massive bulk intimidated many subordinate soldiers into behaving, lest he use that size against them.
Only Marjan commanded any respect from him, but Kale was not afraid to cross the line.
“You dare—” Kale clenched his fists in preparation to strike. “I’ll not take insults from no man, including you.”
Kale moved toward Marjan. The fiery temper had gained him respect for his courageous—though sometimes unnecessarily dangerous—actions on the battlefield.
Calli possessed the same fire, though she controlled it better.
The hot-tempered Kale took a swing at him.
Marjan dodged and cut in with a fist that made firm contact with the captain’s gut. Kale hunched over for a brief instant, not hurt as much as Marjan’s knuckles against the tough leather Kale always wore for such an occasion. He rushed Marjan, who expected the reaction but was slow to avoid it.
Growling, Kale shoved the general backwards into the window ledge. “Y’ve insulted me for the las’ time.”
Pinned between the brute and the sharp edge of the window frame cutting into his back, Marjan struggled to free himself. Behind him through the glassless window, a commotion stirred. He heard a few shouts from below but no more.
Other arms tangled around them.
“Get off, Kale! If a fight you want then take it where it be of best use.”
“Let me go! No one questions my honor.”
Marjan breathed easier after they pulled him off. “Prove yourself by fighting those dragons, not me. Or do you wish for an easier target?”
Kale growled and struggled against the multiple arms holding him back. “Tough words from a man who takes orders from a woman.”
Marjan straightened his tunic with a calm he knew would grate on the captain’s dignity. He refused to acknowledge the insult.
“Not any woman,” Lauflan’s calm voice corrected.
The voice of reason. Marjan looked past his adversary to the elder warrior.
“How many of us who challenged her found her sword at our throats? A servant of the court, no less. The princess’s personal attendant and daughter of Kaillen, renowned warrior.”
Lauflan’s crooked smile diffused the tension from the room. He shrugged and met Marjan’s eyes. “Not a man, but a capable warrio
r o’ greater spirit than any of us.”
Kale scowled but relaxed. The men holding him let go. Calli was the daughter of Kaillen, rumored to be the best warrior ever to set foot in Cavatar. She was no less a warrior than any man Marjan had met, and she had proven her worth. The men respected her skills.
Marjan met the warrior’s hard gaze with his own. “I suggest you use that energy for fighting the new enemy.”
“General.”
All heads turned to Quentin, who stood in the doorway. He gripped a scroll of parchment in one hand, his eyes wide. Though his manner would have passed as calm for one such as Kale, Marjan recognized the subtle signs of excitement in the scholar.
“If I may— Milord, a rider has returned.”
“Who is it?”
“The cook’s son.”
His stomach tightened. The old farmer turned cook, Eldred, had sent his eldest son with Calli. If he returned alone, something must have happened to her and the other man. Marjan should never have allowed the lass to go. “Where is he?”
Quentin took a step back into the corridor and looked aside. In a few seconds, the boy entered with Quentin behind.
“General.” The fair-haired young man took in the group and faltered. “I— Have I interrupted?”
“Not at all, lad.” Marjan glanced at Kale, who stood with crossed arms. “You could not have better timing.”
With a look of understanding lifting his brow, Ellead gave a slight nod. “I bring news from the lowlands.”
All listened to his story of their travels. They said nothing, especially when he spoke of their encounters with the dragons. They could ask questions later.
“And Jayson—”
“Jayson? The lady’s consort?”
One side of Ellead’s mouth crooked up in amusement.
What had he said?
“There’s the one to concern us,” one of the captains stated.
Indeed. He’d had no background but for his association with the lass. “What happened?” Marjan asked.
The boy continued with his story of how Jayson used magic to slay the dragon. Where had he gone when he left her? More importantly, how had Calli used magic? Was it an effect from living in the valley?
The men stiffened, a few losing their hard-edge to the amazement of the tale. Ellead spoke of the farmhouse and the road to Selton, then the inn.
From the situation at the inn, Marjan understood the boy’s amusement in his reference to Jayson. Consort, indeed.
“They took another road, but sent me with company into the wilderness.”
“Others came with you?”
“Two.” Ellead nodded to Quentin, who gave a signal to someone outside the door.
Through the doorway strode two men of grizzly appearance. Their eyes immediately fixed on the general.
Why did they join the boy? The darker haired man with the leaner face pulled back his cloak from the sword at his belt, and Marjan understood. The crest of the Baron of Ellendale shimmered in silver inlay upon the sheath. Marjan noted the pattern of five silver stars on the back of the leather bracers, not the making of the common soldier. These men had served under Hammel. They had defended the palace.
And they failed.
Marjan waited, his patience cut short by the recognition.
“You know our marks,” the other said. “Then I’ve to say that you’ll not like what we have to say.”
“We heard—”
“Rumors of soldiers fleeing when the battle turned have circulated since the siege.”
Marjan passed a dark scowl to the speaker in warning not to continue. Tempers flared hot enough without regurgitating old regrets and placing blame. They had all lost to Tyrkam’s forces.
The dark-haired man clamped his jaw. His fingers grasped his sword hilt. “Mind your ears. We were outnumbered. Had we another regiment—”
Kale unfolded his arms, his face reddening in anger at the challenge in the man’s voice.
Marjan stretched an arm into his path to stop his assault. “Tyrkam had not all his army for the siege. Our ranks were cut in half at Bell Field near the banks of the Abbregow River. We cut his forces as much.”
He turned around to the captains who answered to him. “Lay aside your blames. We’ve all lost much. Now is the time to join together, not to fight one another.”
“Wise words,” the new soldier said. “Hammel spoke well o’ yeh, with good reason, as did the one called Jayson.”
Marjan perked up at the reference. “Then you saw him.”
“On my honor, I swear. The man, Jayson, asked that I tell yeh it was an honor working with yeh.” The man shrugged. “Had somewhere else to go with the girl, I gathered.”
Somewhere else? At least they were together. The two should never have separated. Where did they go, though? Would he ever see them again?
Marjan glanced aside at the boy, who pursed his lips and nodded confirmation. Ellead would not lie, of that he was certain.
With a deep breath, Marjan exhaled his doubts. For now, he could find out what really happened at the palace. No others of Hammel’s forces had found their way to the valley. He guess dead by the hands of Tyrkam’s forces or dishonored for such a failure.
“I welcome you to Arronfel, though the others may not share my opinion.” Marjan glanced aside at Kale, who still wore an accusing expression as effective as a sword in his hands. The captain restrained himself, however.
“Tell us your names,” another said.
“I am Lauckney,” the round-faced man said. He indicated his companion with a look aside. “This is Dougal. We would be honored to serve you, General.”
Marjan nodded to Quentin, who waited at the doorway.
“Follow me,” the scholar said.
The two men passed cautious gazes about the room before following Quentin out. He knew the routine for new recruits. After recording their stories, he’d assign them sleeping quarters and duties.
Ellead watched until they disappeared before turning back to Marjan. “If y’ll not be needin’ me, General…”
“Go. Your father is eager.”
Ellead smiled and hurried out.
Marjan watched him, his mind full of new ideas. He would speak to the soldiers in private for the truth of what happened. Rumors had circulated that traitors had infiltrated the palace. Could he trust these men? He trusted others with lesser credentials, but none of the others had been part of Hammel’s forces.
For that matter—
Kale scoffed. “Can we trust anyone who claims to have fought in that battle?”
Marjan glanced aside at the doubts from his own mind spoken aloud by the captain. The captain found a new target for his aggressions, an easier target. Building an army to reclaim Cavatar would take more faith in his men than Marjan imagined.
But at least the Lady Calli was in good hands. He could quit blaming himself for letting her go into danger.
Without worrying about her, he could concentrate on the men who explored the deeper corridors of the fortress. The brothers of those who had accompanied Calli showed the same desire for adventure. The two went together into the dark depths of the mountain to discover the secrets it held.
Part of him wished not to know what secrets may lay dormant in the mountain from which the great fortress was hewn. The other part of him desired to expose any surprises now. Why had such a magnificent structure been abandoned after so much work?
__________
The Stone of Arromefîrdra
Siannon gazed in wonder down the corridor of the old fortress, his eyes tracing the shadows from the torch in his hand. That Ellead should be here…
He and their father worried that something had happened, what with those dragons let loose. He shuddered to think what he wished not to but which he could not shake.
When Kirin had approached him about exploring the deeper corridors into the mountain, Siannon jumped at the chance, if only to occupy his mind. Both their brothers had gone with Calli a
nd none had returned.
Since he and Kirin started out earlier that day, they sat to two quiet meals and walked quite a ways.
Most of what they saw resembled the rest of the ancient fortress, with rooms and common areas around fountains fed by natural springs. However, the inner chambers lacked the natural lighting of those at the outer walls of the structure. Like in the main fortress, they found broken crystals in sconces along the walls and projecting from ceilings high above where there would normally be torch racks or oil lamps. Knowing the valley was protected by magic made them wonder what else the original tenants of the valley might have known.
Kirin walked ahead of him, his eagerness apparent by his difficulty staying focused on any one artifact or aspect of the architecture. The halls arched overhead with scattered, small stalactites projecting downward. The same vine decorations common in the occupied areas traced along the walls in shades of gold, red, green, and blue. The wooden doors had long ago decayed, leaving rusty hinges, some with the occasional rotted wood hanging off. A few steel doors hung on stiff, rusted hinges that refused to budge. Rather than fight to enter the rooms, they moved on.
Moisture trickled in rivulets down some of the walls, leaving cracks or climbing stalagmites, or dripped from the short stalactites overhead. Nature sought to reclaim its own.
At yet another cross-corridor, they hesitated.
“Now where?” Siannon’s whisper thundered in the silence.
The fair-complexioned Kirin knelt to the floor in the hall from which they had come. The rattle of a stone echoed through all four corridors.
When he stood, he took the torch and pointed to the left. “That way.”
Siannon eyed the stone near their feet, making sure it would not move. He had no desire to become lost in the underground corridors. At the retreat of the torchlight, he jogged after the blacksmith. Kirin left markers when they followed other corridors to their ends and returned to try another path. Without the stones, they would be lost.
“Any reason?”
Kirin shrugged, his eyes glinting with discovery like a child in a shop of marvels.
Kirin had been the first to step into Arronfel when he accidentally fell through the magic barrier of the mountainside along the road through the Northern Mountains. Instead of returning, he had followed the path of the valley to discover the ancient five-tiered city of Linfrathâr carved from the mountainside. Calli had quickly solved the magic of the barrier for the rest of them.
Legends Page 20
