Legends

by Melanie Nilles

  Lusiradrol blinked away the vestiges of memories.

  The scene had taken place long before her time, of that she was certain. It was as the other memories—those of the Darklord.

  With such armies at her command, she would not fear the white dragon’s return.

  So many creatures under the master’s command. What had happened to them?

  After capturing the men who came to save Calli, she would send out her dragons to find them. The power of the Darklord would be hers, as would be his armies. The demons would take more care in commanding, but the growing of her powers might make controlling them possible.

  This place will not be needed. The castle ruins had been her sanctuary away from all others, but she knew better places to suit her plans. Already, her Red Clan had reclaimed their ancient breeding grounds—the Dark Hills.

  She desired power and had no time for petty games. Those who stood in her path would die before their second breath. Vahrik was no longer needed or wanted.

  __________

  Shadow

  Shadow stalked into the room on four silent paws. The object of his hunt stood at the tall window next to the bed, her silvery white hair shimmering in the slant of the evening sun. He crept along the wall and crunched down to hide beneath the dresser near the door. Dust lifted about him, nearly choking his breath in a sneeze, but he remained silent.

  He could have watched the princess all day. Never before had he set his eyes on as enchanting an image.

  When the drakin showed more curiosity about him and less interest in the women than he had hoped, he abandoned that form. They had little interest in the ways of humans, except for the one of their kind called Jaren.

  Shadow desired to hide in the open, but he would take to the shadows if necessary. In the form of a black cat, he hid from eyes if he wished or cozied up to the women.

  Cats were valued animals for keeping pests out of the farmers’ grain, though at one time people distrusted them, thinking they were mischievous spirits, and some people still believed that nonsense. These women showed no more than normal curiosity of his unusual appearance.

  They must have noticed his presence in the magic, although they neither said nor did anything.

  Footsteps halted near the door behind him.

  “Istaria.”

  The princess turned to the woman, her swollen belly protruding from beneath the long gown. The authority of the voice and the beaded decorations of the shoes identified the woman as the former queen of Cavatar.

  She stopped a few steps inside the door.

  Though he could not hear the words of the princess, he guessed the general flow of the conversation. She never spoke—always mute, except for mindspeech.

  “Dinner is ready.”

  Shadow knew by the smile on Istaria’s face what she replied. The other Lumathir witch, Gayleana, knew how to cook. He filled himself with the last bits of their meals after they left the kitchen each night.

  Istaria waddled across the room, holding onto her belly with an occasional grimace of discomfort.

  “It’ll get no better,” Damaera said.

  The princess sighed and exited ahead of her mother, who left the door ajar. Shadow slipped out from his hiding and followed the women downstairs.

  From the first time he set his eyes on the princess, he found himself in conflict. The girl had no equal for beauty. She had always worn her veil the few times he took assignments to someone in the palace. With the veil gone, he saw that she had hidden the most exquisite of features of any woman. None could compare.

  And she was pregnant. Tyrkam had said nothing about that. Shadow was not callous enough to place a woman in her state in the hands of such a man. His conscience battled his anger toward the Sh’lahmar. Although he despised them, he would not risk the life of a child for that anger.

  If he heard right from their discussions, this child was nothing less than the white dragon. That one he would not hand over to Lusiradrol for any price. He was anything but stupid. Although he desired to take away from Darius the one he loved, he could not risk the one hope of the world.

  If Lusiradrol wanted her enemy, she could do the work herself. He would have no part in destroying the world.

  But he could have his revenge after the child was born, if Tyrkam could wait that long.

  No assignment ever delayed him. He had slain warriors whom he could have sworn slept with one eye open.

  This assignment…

  He had learned patience in his training. He could wait. Waiting would be best.

  “I hope you’ve an appetite.” Gayleana’s cheery voice rose from the kitchen when Damaera opened the door. The scent of herbs and spices blew with renewed strength through the doorway.

  Shadow inhaled deeply and his stomach gurgled. He gazed through the doorway where Damaera held the door for her daughter.

  At the rectangular table in the center of the room, Istaria sat in one of four chairs.

  “He’s not coming?” Gayleana asked.

  Damaera shrugged and still held the door open after Istaria took her seat. When she turned and fixed her eyes on him, Shadow froze. So that was it. He suspected as much, but they would not see his true form until he knew he could gain their trust. Only that way would he lure Istaria to the First Realm.

  Or was it a game to them? He flicked his tail with suspicion. Perhaps they knew not but hoped to lure him out of his hiding. If that was the case, he would disappoint them. He played by his rules, not theirs.

  A confident smile crept up the delicate lips of the queen. “Come, now; you must be hungry.”

  Reluctant to admit she was right but willing to cooperate to gain their trust, Shadow stalked across the sitting room. He passed near the feet of the queen, and Gayleana set a bowl on the floor. Eager to satisfy his stomach’s harsh objections, he sunk his teeth into the meat scraps she offered.

  “Better,” Gayleana said.

  He looked up while gnawing a piece of gristle.

  Mischief glinted in her eyes. “No more of this licking out the pots after dark.”

  So they had known. No matter.

  Istaria rested her head in her hands with her elbows on the table, her smile as rueful as her mother’s. She said nothing but revealed a wealth of knowledge behind her smile.

  This assignment was not like the others. This situation tested his core beliefs. The Sh’lahmar had trained him to kill, but to pity those he killed; but he had forsaken that training and the Sh’lahmar to live his own life. After more assassinations than he could count, he should have cared nothing for his victims, but he did, at least for her.

  “They’ll return with Calli.”

  Shadow glanced up at the three women. Seated on the opposite side of the table, Damaera played with her food. On the side nearest him, Istaria held Gayleana’s hand to her belly.

  “My! What a kick he has.”

  Istaria’s smile lit up the room with pride. Shadow watched her while chewing a bit of raw meat attached to the gristle.

  “Nothing.” The sadness of the queen’s tone and her lack of appetite drew their attention from the baby.

  Shadow listened to half a conversation. Istaria spoke only to them, but he understood the tone of the others’ voices.

  “I’ve one child lost yet.”

  “Phelan.” Gayleana’s spoke in a sympathetic tone.

  Damaera said nothing but the scratch of her fork moving her food around on the plate remained.

  “He’ll return.” Gayleana adjusted her chair with a scrape on the floor. “I look forward to meeting him too.”

  “Aunt Gayle?” Humor brightened the queen’s voice.

  “To have such a family.”

  The conversation paused while they ate. He guessed Istaria commented but could not be certain.

  After a minute of silence, a gentle voice entered his head. Do we not wish to have our family together?

  Shadow jerked his eyes up but avoided her gaze. She had never spoken to him, b
ut now Istaria watched him with a knowing expression. He would not answer her. He would carry out his job, despite the doubts growing inside him. He simply needed to wait for the right time.

  __________

  Jayson and Lusiradrol

  With Darius cloaked in the same spell next to him, Jayson listened to the men in the room on the other side of the door. With his ear pressed to the wood, he could make out the muffled conversation.

  He heard the word that sparked his interest—prisoner.

  “The demon witch has him in her spell.”

  After a mumbled reply, the speaker continued. “I swear no good, but a trick she has o’ this prisoner.”

  “Yer guardin’ that one for him?”

  “Sure an’ Darson’s there now.”

  Jayson bit his lip to withhold his excitement at such a finding.

  Seems they’ve no care to protect their master’s interests, Darius said.

  Jayson winked aside to Darius.

  They had sat in the tower most of the morning, listening to the rain drizzle over the roof. So early in the season, it likely froze, leaving them cut off from their ride back to Eyr Droc. They could locate Calli in the meantime and return to waiting until the rain ended. When it did, Sethirngal would return to the castle. Unless they found another way to free Calli, the dragon would dig them out of the castle to take them back to Eyr Droc.

  Catching the conversation made one task easier.

  “Not sure he trusts the witch.”

  Jayson strained to catch the comment. Witch? Could they mean Lusiradrol?

  “What with him always checking on the prisoner, I expect he’s afraid she’ll try somethin’.”

  “Hah! I’d never trust that woman. Gives me a fright.”

  They teased the man about being afraid. Disappointment cooled Jayson’s eagerness. They had to reveal where Calli was.

  His emotions demanded he jump in and strangle the answer out of the men. Reason stayed his feet; if Vahrik visited her often, he would lead them to her. That meant they needed to find the sharp-tongued fool.

  “Lessee you stand up to her. You take watch tomorrow.”

  “You’ve the honor appointed by the young lord. I’ll not take that from you.” The tone of the voice struggled for humor but betrayed the speaker’s anxiety.

  Why did they not say something about the prisoner’s location? Had he arrived too late in the discussion?

  Heavy steps approached the door.

  “Say nothing more, or your head will hang by a noose if word reaches him.”

  At the click of a latch, Jayson jumped away from the door. A dim light from inside showed him a handful of men around a warm fire.

  “Sure as you’ll be going to betray us,” one of the others said from within.

  The man at the door smirked. “Not if I wish to keep my head.” He stepped out and closed the door behind him. Under his breath he muttered, “Shoulda left with Dorjan.” The man’s steps faded down the corridor, likely not heading for duty, if his next duty came tomorrow.

  Keep looking, Jayson said to Darius.

  They checked into every room, scanning its essence of magic for signs of trouble.

  When they found nothing, they descended the stairs to the next level down—ground level.

  Something set the hairs on the back of Jayson’s neck standing. Faint but disturbing, it touched him through the magic. He had learned in his training from Master Haiberuk never to ignore such an instinct, but he could not trace the disturbance to its source.

  They started down the corridor around the main hall, stepping aside to let servants and others pass. The ground level proved busier than the upper levels with more traffic, but most of the rooms were full that time of day, making opening doors unnecessary for their search, since the frequent in and out of servants and soldiers gave them enough time for a quick visual scan.

  While they could not locate Calli, Jayson found where Vahrik let out his frustrations after the midday meal. A servant backed out of a door, her matted hair tied back to expose the fear in her eyes. She ducked her head and rushed out the door. A quick glance caught the malice in Vahrik’s eyes before the young man turned and closed the door.

  He’s rough.

  Indeed. Images of Calli at his mercy flashed through Jayson’s mind. His fists tightened at the thought of what despicable acts the boy might inflict.

  A second later, he smiled at a vision of Calli beating Vahrik into the ground. With a temper and spirit as she bore, combined with her fighting skills, no one was safe when she let loose.

  The nagging sense that had bothered him when they stepped from the stairs rose to the forefront. Jayson stiffened—someone watched them. He sucked in a deep breath and turned.

  Lusiradrol’s smile chilled his soul. “Very good, mage.”

  Darius reacted with a motion of his hand.

  It stopped in midair, and he strained to move his hand.

  “Tsk, tsk,” she reprimanded, her smile darkening. “Thought you would succeed so easily?” Her satisfaction goaded Jayson, but he could not move. His hiding spell melted around them, unraveled by the forces she commanded. Lusiradrol stepped close, the void of her presence cutting him off from the world.

  Jayson scowled.

  “Oh!” Her smile beamed with malice. “I remember now; I have your dearest. But you brought me no one in exchange.” She slapped him across the cheek, leaving it burning in pain. “Shame on you.”

  Although he could not turn at the creak of the door behind them, Jayson knew who came out.

  “Lusiradrol!” A second later, the voice deepened with menace. “Darius!”

  Vahrik stepped between them, and the dragon woman backed away. “How did you—? Where did you—?”

  “I told you they’d come.” With her hands on the boy’s shoulders from behind him, Lusiradrol leaned close so her black lips nearly touched Vahrik’s ears. But her eyes fixed on Jayson with a teasing grin that sent a shiver down his spine. “She will come for Darius, but I want the other.”

  A black-nailed finger slid across Vahrik’s clean-shaven jaw as she drew away.

  “Take him.” Vahrik’s eyes never left Darius.

  In a flash, Jayson stood in a room warmed by a fireplace at one end. The crystal encasing Calli caught the flickers and splattered the light about the room in shimmers of color. In a taunting way, it was beautiful.

  Calli stood as she had before the dragon woman took her, while Lusiradrol sat atop the crystal with her legs crossed, the black leather of her tight-fitting clothes revealing all her deceptive curves.

  Jayson struggled against her magic, but no counter spells came to mind. In an instant, she had disabled both he and Darius.

  There is a way. Was it his thought? Something or someone showed him the way to untangle her magic around him.

  “Now, mage,” she said. “We have unfinished business. You were supposed to bring another.”

  “No one is worth what you ask.” So, she left him free to talk, though that could work against him.

  Her lips curved up, and she traced a finger on the top of the crystal block. Something dark and pointed penetrated through the crystal toward Calli’s head.

  Jayson swallowed to keep from objecting and closed his eyes. Although he desired to protect Calli, he spoke the truth—no mortal possessed the power of the white dragon to battle Lusiradrol. His heart ached at the thought of Calli’s death, but he would not give the black dragon what she desired. He refused to be blamed for sacrificing the one being on whose shoulders all their hopes rested.

  He bit his lips to keep from calling out as tears tugged at his eyes. Grief tightened its choking grip.

  Her laughter mocked him. “Perhaps I’ll wait.”

  Jayson opened one eye. The danger to Calli vanished. Relief calmed through him.

  Lusiradrol jumped from her perch and landed before him. “You may watch your dearest until I have what I want. Two lovers always together; always apart.”

&nb
sp; With no hint of the emotions inside, he said in a flat voice, “You cruel, cruel woman.”

  A shadow of menace wiped away her smile. “Do not mock me!” She leaned close, studying him with uncertainty in her eyes. Her hot breath blew across his face. “She will come, or the other will die.”

  In a plume of fire, she vanished.

  Calli would die anyway, if Lusiradrol had her way.

  But he might not.

  The web of her spell around him clarified in his mind as if someone showed him the way to break it. He followed the threads, unraveling them one-by-one.

  * * *

  Damn the mage! Something had changed. She felt it from him, like a greater power taunting her more than his tongue. Maddening! She needed space from him.

  Lusiradrol stood in the shadows of the corridor hidden by magic as the magi had been from mortal eyes.

  Vahrik supervised his guards to help with the immobile woodsman.

  “Chain him with the strongest you have.” The impetuous youth smirked. How little he understood.

  Four young soldiers lifted Darius over their heads and carried the frozen figure off.

  The princess could not refuse to come now. The man who had rescued her, the mage who helped defeat Lusiradrol’s dark magic, would lure her to Wynmere.

  Until then, Lusiradrol would wait. Her backup plan continued.

  Once Vahrik stood alone, she stepped from the shadows.

  “Back so soon? Have you killed him already?”

  She grinned in mild amusement. “The torture of watching loved ones suffer while you can do nothing is a pleasure I’ll not deny him.”

  Despite the confidence in her voice, the mystery confused her. Something had touched her through the magic this time in her encounter with the dark-haired mage. Familiar but faint, it touched a part of her that possessed a hatred unmatched. It may have been there before, but she had been preoccupied.

  What was it? Nothing important. Jayson could die.

  “So, he lives. May I have him now?”

  “Do as you wish, but keep the other, Darius, alive. He is the key to the one we desire. She will not come if she feels his death but must think she can rescue him.” And the dragons would likely show him to her with their magic. How could the heart resist?