I agree. With a grimace from the discomfort of the child’s movements, Istaria followed Jayson to where she knew Darius would be.
__________
Gaispar
Air currents shifted beneath her outstretched wings. Gaispar adjusted without thinking at each subtle change. She preferred the form of a falcon for long travels. When she tired, she could continue onward by gliding. A dark voice of magic lingered at the edge of her awareness.
After picking up the trail of the stranger again and following him almost in a straight line to the gateway of the Second Realm, she had changed her course to report to Makleor in Wynmere Castle. He would be interested in what she had discovered. The stranger’s purpose she knew not, but his direction revealed much.
That dark void now closed in on her. Gaispar recognized the presence of a wyvern. She’d noticed only a few in her travels, not near as many as she expected.
Ayrule could not be Lusiradrol’s only target to spread the Red Clan so thin. What other places had she sent her clan to destroy?
At the edge of Gaispar’s vision, a dark spot grew. The wyvern headed straight for her.
Gaispar dove to a level above the treetops, where the currents of wind blew strong. Hopefully the creature would pass without notice. The wyvern was faster, though not as quick to change course. By using the obstacles closer to the land, she could outmaneuver it, though she hoped it picked another target besides her.
No such luck. The red beast closed in fast, its broad wings stretching across the horizon.
When it neared to where she could see its jaws opening, she swerved. A spray of fire tracked her path too late.
Why was it after her? Did it know she was more than any other falcon? It must have. But how?
Magic, as I tracked the stranger. Are they after all magic-users? The idea chilled her soul. If Lusiradrol ordered her clan to kill all magic users, then the war against the Red Clan would favor them. How many unsuspecting humans would they kill with that intent?
The wyvern adjusted its course to stay with her. Losing it would be more difficult than anticipated; she already tired from her travels with little rest. The dragons had far more energy than any bird, or human. She needed help.
Makleor waited in Wynmere, another day’s travel at the least. She could not hide from the beast, not if it could track her from far away.
It trailed close behind. She swerved and looped around obstacles to lose it, but the enormous size of the creature kept it going straight through anything in its path. Branches snapped and cracked when it glided down after her.
She flapped with all her strength to avoid the jaws of the wyvern but tired from the effort. Her strength waned quickly. Memories of past travels over the land flashed in rapid succession in her search for a place and form to hide. Nothing came to her.
The jaws snapped shut at her tail. Large teeth grazed her feathers, the putrid breath choking her with death.
She ducked and reversed direction, a momentary ruse that would give her only a few seconds.
The dragon roared and swooped upwards to pursue her. At the pinnacle of its climb, she circled back. She had to reach Makleor with this news, but she could barely stay ahead of this dragon. She needed help.
Wynmere forest! The guardians would protect her. If she could reach the edge of the forest, she would find shelter. To save her life, they had granted her immortality in exchange for serving the dragons. They would not deny her refuge.
With the wyvern behind her a ways but gaining rapidly, she headed to the distant forest.
Though you fly to no effect,
I am here, so come direct.
The melodious voice startled her momentarily but soothed her panic with recognition. Gaispar found the source, its power unmistakable. The panicked flight had stolen her attention from the magic.
One of the elder drakes found her.
The wyvern slowed behind her, granting her some distance.
Gaispar cared not. It would not survive long enough to bother her again.
Sethirngal’s enormous green form dove from above. Gaispar climbed on warm currents to avoid the inevitable crash of bodies.
Too large to avoid its attacker, the wyvern maneuvered clumsily. The green dragon clamped its jaws around the red neck. Thrice the size of the red beast, Sethirngal snapped the red neck in his jaws with a terrible crunch before they hit the ground.
The thunder of their crash reached Gaispar high above and she circled to see what happened. The green dragon ripped off the red head and tossed it aside. Sethirngal stepped away from the body burning in a release of magic.
Relief washed over her, stealing away the panic of her flight to barely a glide of exhaustion.
With the threat defeated, Gaispar dove down to perch on one of the spines on the back of the green dragon standing out of reach of the magic encasing the red body. Thank you.
I would do no less
for any other in such mess.
It was the red I wished to take,
no matter the victim or its sake.
The green head snaked around, and Gaispar gazed into a large, gentle eye.
What mission had you in mind
when this one your trail did find?
She flapped her wings to settle her balance with the shift of his body. I seek the mage with news of the stranger, a shapeshifter in Tyrkam’s service. He followed a trail directly to the gateway.
A thoughtful sigh rumbled through the dragon’s body, escaping in curls of smoke from its nostrils.
A child of Light who serves the dark
must on the soul have borne a mark
that grieves and grows in such a way
that no one knows it to this day.
The head turned back on its victim. A pool of black formed around the stump of the neck and the head. Magic sparked and sizzled about the carcass, the power of the beast let loose without any control but of no harm to Sethirngal.
I fear the stranger has been sent for the princess, Gaispar said. If Tyrkam sent him, it must be.
Agree must I.
The body shifted beneath her. Gaispar fluttered her wings to keep her balance.
Upon my speed you can rely,
that to Eyr Droc I will fly.
Relieved that the dragon would return to protect the princess and the unborn child, Gaispar flapped into the air. Though her wings tired from the trials of escaping the wyvern, she could glide and reserve some strength. Soon she would have to rest, but she hoped to reach her teacher before then.
The loud flapping of the dragon’s leathery wings reached her. She climbed higher on air currents shifting with its push to gain flight. Sethirngal ran forward and lifted from the ground.
She returned her attention to her own flight the opposite direction. When Gaispar glanced back, the green dragon faded into the horizon. With such speed, he would reach Eyr Droc in just a few days, but would it be too late?
She dared not think of it but focused on her goal—to inform Makleor of the stranger and his threat.
__________
Jayson
Darius’s shoulders slumped in what could only be interpreted as exasperation. “Why not ask the others for help? I am one man, and one who is needed here.”
Jayson looked out on the rolling green hills and the grass swaying in the warm, gentle breeze. In his mind he saw the mounds of red scales moving within the cavern. “You are the last of this realm.” Those were Haiberuk’s words. If Jayson had trusted the master, the others would live and could help. “The others are gone, my friend. We are all that remain.”
Darius straightened, studying his face. “Gone? Not all of them.”
Jayson nodded confirmation. “Every one. I know not why I was spared, but while I lay unconscious in the vault, the others vanished. Only Master Haiberuk remained, to heal my wounds. Afterwards, he vanished from my sight.”
Darius looked away, searching the horizon for answers it seemed.
In the silent void
of thought, birds twittered in the treetops above. The distant screech of a dragon carried on the fresh air.
The magic of that realm encompassed them. Jayson let it flow through him as he had all magic after the purification ritual upon his return to the Sh’lahmar. More than anything, he needed the calm now that Haiberuk gave to him then. His emotions tangled with his sense of duty. In the peace of the Second Realm, they unwound, freeing his mind to think.
“You feel it too.”
Jayson looked to Darius, who gazed back with a strange contentment on his face. He understood, but he should after living there for many moon cycles. One need not stay long to notice it. “The land is alive.”
“The corruption of the Darklord has not touched this realm.” Darius let out a deep breath. “The pain one carries washes away here.”
“Not all pain can be cleansed from the soul.” The idea of losing Calli stabbed his emotions. He would not leave her. He had lost all that he knew. She was all that mattered now, and he would do all he could to save her. “If you cannot help, I’ll go alone.”
Darius eyed him with suspicion. “She’s important to you in more ways than you admit.”
“Yes. Though I suppose I should know better than to pretend otherwise to you.” He should have realized—Darius of all people, given a chance to love twice, saw it in others.
With a slight grin of understanding, Darius said, “That’s all I need to hear. Some things are more valuable than all the riches in the world.”
You’ll not go alone!
Jayson cringed at the severity of the voice and turned with Darius to the source. With the bulk of her belly leading her, Istaria waddled across a grassy clearing towards them.
Jayson caught the hint of a grimace on Darius’s face. Neither one of them was getting out of this without a scolding. Now he understood Darius’s hard expression; the stern look on the face of the woman in flowing blue velvet made him grimace.
“My lady.”
Do not patronize me. Her jaw hardened when she turned to him and Jayson winced. I heard everything. Calli was my best friend before all this. That she left to rescue me, I can never repay; but I’ll not leave her to suffer. If Lusiradrol wants me, then she shall have me. I’ve enough control of the power now—
“Absolutely not!”
Jayson and Istaria both jumped at the thunder of Darius’s rebuttal. A moment later, his face softened on her and he placed a hand to her belly. “You’re too close to the end. If anything happened to you—either of you—”
Jayson stepped aside, giving them some room to discuss the matter.
Istaria smiled and placed her hand over Darius’s. I appreciate your concern. She looked over to Jayson. Both of you. But I am not as helpless as I look. Uncomfortable, I’ll admit, but much stronger after the training.
Darius shook his head. “You must stay here. The safety of the child involves more than any of us. We can rescue Calli. With the dragons, Tyrkam will pose no challenge.”
I fear not Tyrkam, she insisted. He is no threat to me or Calli.
“Lusiradrol is, my lady,” Jayson quietly said. “I cannot let you leave this realm, not for any of our lives. The child you bear is what she’ll destroy at all costs. You’re the reason she took Calli.”
Istaria’s fair complexion paled. She put both hands to her belly.
Darius took her in his arms. “You would never forgive yourself if anything happened to the baby.”
Gazing down at her swollen middle, Istaria relinquished her previous confidence to his embrace and sighed. When you say it that way, I have no choice…but I wish I could help Calli.
“I know, but leave it to us.” Darius peered back at Jayson, a knowing grin clinging to the corner of his mouth. “Calli could have no one better caring for her.”
A hard lump formed in Jayson’s throat at the sight of them together. Never in all his years had he experienced the regrets and desires of the heart until Calli. Now, she guided his world.
After a few minutes with Darius, Istaria lifted her head and looked beyond him to Jayson. Her smile chased the sorrow from his mood. Thank you.
Jayson acknowledged her with a nod and turned away to give them space. She knew Darius risked his life but was willing to let him go. Jayson hoped for the best, but in facing Lusiradrol, there were no guarantees, even with magic at their disposal.
__________
Dorjan
The horses trod with difficulty over the slippery, melting snow. They fought to keep their footing down a steep hillside. Though a few nearly sat on their haunches, they all survived without injury.
The journey was perilous, but the weather had been favorable the entire journey. The streams ran full from all the snow melting since the storm. Around the bases of the trees, spears of green peeked out from the previous year’s growth. Soon, new growth would replace it and the land would become a green carpet once more.
Dorjan observed all the signs of winter’s imminent end, including the lengthening, warmer days. Once the sowing season returned, so would the season for war. Tyrkam would find himself hard-pressed to expand his power without a year or two to resupply his forces with food and weapons, as well as fresh recruits. He could not continue at the pace he had set the last few years.
The familiar landscape told him they were close to Setheadroc.
They reached the city before the sun met the dusk horizon and galloped through the gates down the streets to the palace.
The shadows falling on the once radiant stonework bode ill for the future.
They pulled up at the closed gates of the palace towering up to the gatehouses on either side high above.
“Hail!” one of the soldiers in his group called to the guards in the gate towers.
“Who dares pass?”
With a scowl at the self-righteous authority of the guards, Dorjan lifted his face. “Open the damned gates! I’ve wasted enough time in coming.”
“Who dares such assumptions!”
Another soldier whispered in the guard’s ear. The guard paused before shouting to open the gates for the men.
Cursing under his breath, Dorjan dug his heels into his mount’s sides before the portcullis ceased its grinding climb. As he passed beneath, he ducked clear of the sharp ends.
Like water flowing away, an aisle cleared through the people in the courtyard of the palace before his path to the portico of the Grand Hall. Hooves clattered to a stop on the wet stones, and he swung out of the saddle.
A pair of stable hands took the reins before he reached the steps with the soldiers who accompanied him from Wynmere close behind. The guards flanking the doors pushed them open for his group.
Dorjan’s heavy steps echoed in the high-ceilinged hall. A quick scan showed no Tyrkam amid the sparse crowds, but he knew of a couple places where he might find the overlord.
The servants and soldiers in the hall silenced as he and his group crossed to the stairs climbing up to the second floor. At the bottom, he excused the soldiers and hurried on alone.
They had ridden hard from Wynmere, exchanging mounts where they could to keep fresh horses beneath them. Consequently, they reached the palace in much less time than expected, but it was still plenty of time for Vahrik to seal up the old castle from attack. The boy no doubt used what he had to fortify the castle.
A sly smile curved up hairy cheeks. Vahrik would be foolish enough to seal himself inside with all of his followers. He had no mind for planning and would in effect bring his own downfall in a siege. But if the boy had the chance to expand, Tyrkam might miss the opportunity to take him and his followers in one small area.
Dorjan asked a servant where to find Tyrkam and strode through the eerily quiet corridor to a obscure door he had entered once before. The creak of ill-kept hinges echoed through the corridor.
He stepped into the old records room, and Tyrkam looked up from a stack of large books at a small table before a roaring fire, an open tome before him. A moment of surprise passed
over his face before a frown hardened.
“What happened?”
Dorjan closed the door behind him.
“I nearly lost my limbs to that fool and his ‘elite’ guards.” He scoffed and took the chair opposite Tyrkam. If those guards were considered elite, he, Dorjan, should be considered a god.
Tyrkam slammed the tome shut with the force of his short temper.
Dorjan never flinched. “He’s a pact with that devil woman.”
“Lusiradrol?” Tyrkam stood and approached the fire. “What is she playing now?” he mumbled.
While Tyrkam contemplated the situation, Dorjan glanced down at the books. The one Tyrkam had been reading bore a dragon on the cover circled by—
Dorjan leaned forward, uncertain if what he saw was right. [“He who was and will return in the time of greatest need.”] He silently read the words of his native tongue etched in the leather cover. Tyrkam knew nothing of the organic style writing, of that he was certain. What did he study in the tome if he could not read the language on the cover?
Feigning ignorance, Dorjan shrugged and sat back.
Tyrkam stopped before him and leaned over his hands on the stack of books. “You’ve no hint of her plans with him?”
“Neither have I confirmation. Only suspicions. When the dragon climbed the keep and set fire to the forest, it posed no more threat, but left the rest intact.”
Tyrkam clamped his jaw shut and mumbled, “Dragons on the keep?” He looked up. “Did the forest burn?”
“For a few seconds only. The fire extinguished by the power of the guardians.”
“They would not allow it. I might have told it not to bother, but Lusiradrol had to try.” Tyrkam met Dorjan’s eyes with a stern gaze. “You should have sent word sooner.”
“That no messenger arrived here means he failed.” Likely by the hands of someone Vahrik sent after him.
Dorjan sat back in his chair, the tome still on his mind. Given the chance, he would open its pages alone to read. Never mind Tyrkam or Vahrik. They were nothing compared to the greater powers at work in the world now.
Now was not the time to think about it, lest he arouse Tyrkam’s suspicions. Rather, he reported what he knew of Vahrik’s activities.
Legends Page 22
