Dragonvein Book Four

by Brian D. Anderson

  As the memories entered, so Martok’s form gradually diminished. Just like his father, he became progressively more transparent. But instead of breaking up into small segments, he simply continued fading until disappearing completely. Even after he was gone, Ethan imagined he could feel his grip for several seconds. A wave of dizziness struck him and he staggered back a few steps before catching his balance.

  He looked at his hands, then touched his face. He was still whole. He had all the memories of Martok, but unlike his previous experience with the random thoughts of his ancestors, these were now cohesive. Every face, location, and moment in time was like remembering his own life. And yet it was still somehow separate. He was not Martok. He was Ethan. A smile formed that grew into a soft laugh.

  Heather touched his arm. “Are you all right?”

  He nodded. “I am…perfect. Martok’s knowledge is now mine. And it’s time for me to return.”

  “Yes. It is,” she agreed.

  Ethan kissed her on the cheek. “I think you’re right. Something is guiding us.”

  “Then I hope it guides you well, and returns you to us when your time is done.”

  Ethan took a long look around, seeing the realm where the spirits of his ancestors dwelt with new eyes. No. His spirit would never dwell here. Of that much he was sure.

  * * * * *

  Ethan opened his eyes. The sky above was awash with the brilliance of starlight. He could feel the dry air of the Dragon Wastes on his skin and the dusty taste of it on his tongue. It was wonderful. He was back in the real world. A soft laugh slipped out. The real world indeed. But the truth was, that was what Lumnia had become to him. Earth was a distant memory.

  Kat and Lylinora were asleep nearby on the other side of the platform. On seeing Kat lying there so peacefully, a thought flashed through his mind. Her beauty surpassed even that of the Gilded Cliffs of Mrundis. He laughed again. Martok’s father had taken him there when he was a child. A pity they were now gone. Kat would have enjoyed seeing them.

  Moving silently, he knelt beside her and touched her arm. Her eyes peeled open drowsily. But the sight of his face lifted the fog of sleep instantly.

  “It’s all right,” he said quickly. “I’m back. Martok is gone.”

  Lylinora stirred as well.

  “How do I know it’s really you?” Kat said, shifting away from him

  Lylinora was at her side immediately, her hands glowing red and ready to strike.

  Ethan chuckled. “If I was Martok, that wouldn’t do you a bit of good.”

  “Prove that you’re Ethan,” Lylinora demanded.

  “How?”

  The two women looked at one another.

  He couldn't help but laugh. “I really am Ethan. When I met you, Kat, I took a beating after saving you from getting your hand chopped off. As for you Lylinora…”

  He paused, not wanting to speak of the intimate details which only he would know. “How about this? I’ll tell you what has happened to me and you can decide for yourselves if I’m lying.”

  They both nodded their agreement.

  Ethan went on to recount his experience in the spirit realm. When he was finished he leaned back on his elbows and held up his palms. “So. Do you believe me or not?”

  “It’s difficult to say,” Lylinora replied, eyeing him carefully. “But I suppose either way, you’re free now to do as you wish. And if you are Martok, then I imagine you'll be wanting revenge for what we did to you.”

  “Actually, that’s not true,” Ethan told her. “Like I said, I have his memories as well as his knowledge. Yes, he was angry, but he would not have harmed you, Lylinora. He valued you as a mage above all else. And as for you, Kat…he genuinely loved you. Not as much as I do, but it was still a very real and powerful emotion to him. He hoped that once I was dead you would learn to love him back. The only person in real danger was Renald. He was going to be punished for revealing the truth, even if it was only through Lylinora's spell.”

  Kat moved in until she was mere inches away from him. For a long moment she looked deep into his eyes, saying nothing. Then, quite suddenly, tears welled.

  “It is me,” Ethan whispered. “Scout’s honor.”

  Any lingering doubts vanished in an instant. Kat threw her arms around him, showering his face with kisses and soaking his skin with tears of unrestrained joy. “I knew you’d come back to me,” she sobbed. “I just knew it.”

  Ethan held her tightly, losing himself in the warmth of their two bodies. No matter how many things in this world were worth saving, she was the reason above all else he would fight. And now there was hope. Real hope. Not some vague idea, but a genuine chance for victory.

  Holding her face in his hands, he smiled tenderly. “Are you ready?”

  “Ready for what?”

  “To see what Martok gave me.”

  Before she could answer, a mighty wind swirled around the edge of the platform. Lylinora gasped and sprang to her feet.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Ethan told her. “I just thought you might not want to walk all the way back to Renald’s cabin.”

  Helping Kat to her feet, he kissed her with complete abandon – passionate, yet fused with a deep longing and unyielding love. Martok had indeed given him the knowledge he needed. But Kat was the one who made him truly powerful. More powerful than Martok had ever been in life. His ancestor had always feared that, were his heart to soften, it would make him weak. But Ethan understood what he did not. Human hearts were meant to be soft. And love was meant to be shared. Finding the one person with whom you could be completely vulnerable and yet have no fear …that was the greatest power of all. With Kat, he had found exactly that.

  The whirlwind closed around them, raising them up and then carrying them effortlessly to their destination. As it lowered them gently to the ground, Ethan could see Renald and Jake standing on the cabin porch. Both gazed in astonishment.

  Ethan kissed Kat gently on the forehead. “Wait for me inside. I need to speak with Renald alone first.”

  He waited until both women had stepped onto the porch before calling the old mage over. The pair of them then strolled together in the direction of the lake.

  “So it worked,” Renald remarked. “I’m happy to see it. Though I’m confused as to how you have become so powerful.”

  “Martok has passed on all of his knowledge to me,” Ethan explained. “His memories too. So I wanted to tell you that I will soon free your son.”

  Renald abruptly stopped walking. “No. You mustn’t. Not until Shinzan is defeated. Lynial is hot headed and reckless. I put him there to prevent him from challenging Shinzan. Martok thought that I wanted him released, that's why he felt so sure his secret was safe with me. But the truth is, I don’t want my son touched until this is all over.”

  Ethan sighed. “I’m afraid there is little choice. He is needed. You may have thought you put him there to keep him safe, but I’ve come to realize something. Events in our lives and the choices we make - none of these are random. Even Martok taking control of my body was no accident. He needed to come to terms with what had happened to him. Only then was he able to fulfil his true destiny.”

  “Bah! You sound like the bloody elves,” Renald snapped. “Destiny...prophecy...the will of Lumnia. This is no time for mysticism. If Martok gave you his knowledge, then you have all that you need. Do not involve my son.”

  “Considering how much time you spent with the elves, I’m surprised to hear you say that,” Ethan told him. “But it’s not the will of Lumnia I'm talking about. It’s something far bigger. Bigger than all of us. The world is out of balance. It has been for a very long time – even before Shinzan’s arrival. I intend to make it right again. And I will need all the help I can get.”

  Renald shook his head. “I cannot allow it. Not after all this time. Please, Ethan. Leave him alone.”

  “If I leave him where he is, sooner or later Shinzan will find him. And when he does, there's no telling what he might do. At lea
st this way your son has a fighting chance.”

  “He hasn’t been able to find him yet,” Renald retorted stubbornly.

  “No, but his power is continuing to grow. Even with the dragons opposing him, Shinzan's reach is still extending way too fast. To be honest, I’m not even sure if I'll be able to get Lynial out without a fight. But I’m willing to try if you’re willing to trust me.”

  “What will you do with him once he's free?”

  “I'm not sure yet. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll promise to send him home to you first - assuming Shinzan doesn’t discover me too soon.”

  “Suppose you do release him. What then?”

  “Martok already had a plan to destroy Shinzan. It might just work. I'm hoping it will.”

  Renald nodded. “Yes. The dwarf device. I take it you have it with you.”

  “I do. Even so, I can't be sure it will be enough.”

  “And if the plan fails?”

  “Then there is only one other thing I can do.”

  Renald waited for Ethan to expand on this statement, but he did not. Instead, he looked up at the stars and smiled.

  “It’s strange having the memories of a man like Martok in my head. I know so much about our world now. Things that only he knew. But he never had anyone to share it with. That’s very sad, don’t you think?”

  “You have Kat,” the old mage pointed out.

  “And that is one of the big differences between us.”

  When they were in sight of the lake, Maytra trumpeted a call of greeting from the banks.

  Ethan sighed. “It would have been wonderful to show her all the mysteries of Lumnia.” His voice was a half-whisper.

  Renald regarded him curiously. “Are you saying that you can’t?”

  For a few seconds Ethan did not respond. Then he smiled. “No. I was just thinking out loud. That's all.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Markus gazed into his mug of foaming brown liquid. He had already consumed far too much. He wasn’t drunk, but he sure as hell wasn’t at his best either. And right now he needed to be. The time for delving back into the world of shadows and death was close. He hated the fact that he was actually looking forward to it.

  The dingy tavern was filled to bursting with patrons. Several musicians and singers were crammed into a corner playing furiously for those eager to dance, while the prostitutes and pickpockets plied their trades on those who had the coin.

  “You must really love this place.”

  Markus looked up to see the barmaid who had been flirting with him for three straight days. She was pretty enough, he supposed: nice curves and a bright smile. But she was nothing compared to the woman who was waiting for him.

  “Or maybe it’s me that's the attraction?” the girl added, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m expecting a friend,” he told her, trying not to sound brusque. “He should have been here by now.”

  “Well, if he doesn’t come, you could always spend a bit of time with me,” she suggested, sliding her fingers down his biceps before sauntering off.

  The impression of her touch lingered, making his skin crawl. The mocking voice inside his head was quick to react.

  What the hell is wrong with you? Has Lylinora snipped off your balls? You are Specter.

  He sniffed and took a long drink from his mug. Sooner or later, one of us is going to have to go, he considered.

  “You have the look of a man conflicted.”

  Markus glanced over to his right and saw a short, thin man with wild black hair and sharply angular features. His clothes were a mishmash of brightly colored patches, and his shoes looked at least two sizes too big for his feet.

  He grinned down at Markus with mirth and mischief in his eyes. “I am a man in need of conversation. And you look to be a man in need of a companion.”

  “I have no time for jesters or fools,” Markus grumbled.

  “No time? No time? There is always time. But time for what, we never know until we’re out of it. Plum dry and out of time. That’s me.” He spun on one leg and whistled. “Bring me some ale. And another one for my new friend.”

  “Go away. Didn't you hear me? I told you already I –”

  “Have no time,” he said, finishing the sentence. “No time for poor Toby. That’s my name, by the way.” He gave a low, sweeping bow. “Toby the Wise, they call me. Purveyor of song and stories to salve the soul and lift the spirit. I have tales that could bring tears to the eyes of the Emperor himself. And my voice…oh my! You have never truly experienced music until you've heard it played by me. Though sadly, tonight I am without my lute. More is the pity.”

  “Are you deaf, or just plain stupid?” Markus snapped. “I said go –”

  “Away,” he interrupted yet again. “And away I will go. Into the great unknown. Away from the troubles of this land.” He slid nimbly into the chair across from Markus. “And away from the battles yet to come. But first, let us drink.”

  As if on cue, the waitress arrived with two mugs of ale.

  “Now you behave yourself, Toby,” she warned light-heartedly, casting a wink at Markus. “Don’t you be chasing this handsome fellow off now. You hear me?”

  “Perish the thought, dear lady,” he replied.

  Markus groaned. As much as he would have liked to toss this fool across the tavern, he knew that such behavior would be a bad idea. People apparently knew his unwanted companion, and he certainly didn’t need to be drawing attention to himself.

  Toby raised his mug. “To new friends.”

  Markus ignored the toast and stared back down into his mug, thinking this obvious snub might persuade the man to lose interest and leave. It was a short-lived hope.

  “Ah, that’s just what I needed,” Toby declared after emptying the mug in a series of rapid gulps and slamming it hard down onto the table. “And now that I am no longer dry, perhaps you would like to hear a story.”

  Markus' patience was now very nearly at an end. “I don’t want to hear a fucking story. So if you don’t mind, just...go…away.”

  He might as well have been talking to himself. Toby simply raised an eyebrow and clasped his hands behind his head. “Then perhaps you could regale me with a tale of want and woe yourself. Surely the mighty Specter has much to tell.”

  In a flash, Markus tensed. “You know me?”

  Toby winked. “Of course I do. Or should I say, we do. We know you quite well in fact. So finish your drink and let us away.”

  All of Markus' irritation was now gone. He chuckled. “So you're the one who I’ve been waiting three days for.”

  “Indeed I am. Your message was received and has us in quite a stir.”

  Quickly draining his mug, Markus wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Then let us attend to business.”

  As they began exiting the tavern, the waitress hurried through the crowd to catch them. Toby turned back to catch her arm before she reached Markus and whispered something into her ear. Her expression quickly turned sour and she shot Markus a disappointed look.

  “What did you tell her?” he asked after she had sulked off.

  Toby chuckled. “Nothing much. Only that you prefer…well…my company to hers. It eased the blow somewhat. She was quite taken with you. Poor girl.”

  Markus couldn’t help but laugh. He should have thought of that days ago. It could have saved him from several uncomfortable exchanges.

  The Traxian town of Dorma reminded him a bit of Miltino – though rather more densely populated. The streets were filled with fast moving wagons and horses, while the sidewalks were so narrow that pedestrians were forced to cram together in order to avoid spilling over the edge and being trampled to death. All the buildings he saw were of simple design, mostly single story shops and houses. Only a few were built with a second level, and these were mainly in the wealthier residential district.

  “Where are we going?” he asked, shouting to be heard over the throngs of people.

  “Quite a long way
yet,” was all Toby replied over his shoulder.

  They paused at a livery where Toby spoke briefly with the owner. They then continued on to the main city gate, where they waited until a young lad of about twelve arrived pulling along two sturdy mounts already loaded with supplies.

  “The land is reasonably flat,” Toby said, jumping atop the saddle with an acrobat’s dexterity. “So it shouldn’t take but a few days to get there.”

  “My belongings are still at the inn,” Markus told him.

  “No. They’re not.” With a devilish grin, Toby pointed to the saddlebags hanging on the other horse.

  Sure enough, when Markus opened these he found everything he brought with him had been stowed carefully away. He mounted his ride. “How long have you been watching me?”

  “Since you left your peculiar message.”

  “What was so peculiar about it?”

  Toby urged his horse to a walk. “That, my friend, is an answer I hope you will have before we get there.”

  Markus eyed the little man. A cold blooded killer in the guise of a clown. A clever tactic. One that he could never pull off.

  After a few miles they turned south toward the coast. Traxis shared a border with the wasteland separating the rest of Lumnia from the desert in which Shinzan’s palace lay. Heading south took them further away from this: a fact that pleased Markus. It had become increasingly difficult for him as he'd made his way to Dorma to avoid Imperial patrols. Far to the west the dwarves and elves were massing for war – if it had not already begun – and the Empire was on full alert.

  Toby, however, seemed unconcerned about this and kept them on the main road. The patrols they encountered were easily taken in by his ridiculous behavior and delighted in his songs and tricks – many even offering up some coin before allowing them to pass on their way. When asked about Markus, Toby simply said that he was his cousin and bodyguard. This seemed to satisfy them enough to ignore his presence.