"Are you all right?" Azmei was watching him instead of their surroundings. He wanted to snap that of course he wasn't all right, but he just gave a curt nod. "I know you've seen a lot of horrible things," she said softly. "I know war is terrible. But there was never any magic in the war with Strid, was there?"
Hawk shook his head. No magic, but a lot of suffering.
"I've seen some things in my life that I can't explain," she said. "I've met one of the Amethirian stormwitches and talked to someone who's seen the great stormsingers who taught humans magic. I've survived wounds that should have killed me, thanks to the peace god's followers, who have healing skills we can't imagine in Tamnen. I won't pretend to understand what's happening, but I'm not going to reject it just because I don't understand it." She was silent for a moment. Hawk glanced over at her, only to find her smiling hopefully at him. "Hawk, can you trust me long enough for us to find Yar?"
Damn it. Hawk pressed his lips together and met her gaze. She must have realized it was an affirmative, because her smile widened. "Thank you."
He didn't think that required a response. They rode in silence for several minutes, the ring of hoof beats against stone gradually changing in tone. When he looked down, he realized they were riding on packed earth now, rather than stone. He lifted his gaze to the tunnel ahead and the world changed all over again.
The horses stopped walking. They were standing in a broad valley, green grass fluttering against the horses' hocks. The sun gleamed against Azmei's dark curls. She squinted, lifting one hand to shade her eyes. Hawk tore his gaze away from her and looked out over the vast sea of grass.
Walls of craggy gray stone rose around them, shutting them into a private world without closing them away from the sun. He glanced over his shoulder; the tunnel was gone. The sunshine was warm on his shoulders. Hawk loosened Talon in its scabbard.
"Where is this?" he muttered.
Azmei turned and looked soberly at him. "I think perhaps we know why nobody ever goes to the Shrouded Vale," she said.
He turned his horse in a slow circle, taking in the craggy walls of this natural fortress, the river rushing and tumbling downhill to spread out lazily in the middle of the valley. He had almost completed his circle when Azmei screamed. He whipped around to look at her. She was throwing herself towards him, off her horse's back. She dragged at his elbow, throwing him off balance. A shadow fell across them and he looked up, and then he screamed, too.
Huge leathery wings snapped open above them with a noise like thunder. Gleaming talons, spread wide for catching, snapped closed overhead. A great wind rushed over them, whipping Hawk's clothes around and making him choke as his cloak swirled out away from him. The ground shook as a ponderous weight dropped in front of them. Then someone laughed, clear and high, and Yarro tumbled from the dragon's back to the ground in front of them.
Azmei lunged forward and hugged him, while he squirmed to get away from her. Hawk bared Talon and moved to stand between the two of them and the dragon, his heart pounding against his chest so hard he thought it would push its way through.
"Leggo." Yar sounded like any other teenaged boy who was being hugged against his will. He half laughed as he spoke, but he didn't relax until he managed to extricate himself from the princess' arms. "What are you doing?"
"I thought we'd lost you," Azmei said. "Why did you run off?"
"I was Called."
Booming laughter rolled over them with the force of a great hand pushing them down. It echoed against the mountains and rumbled back to them. To Hawk it sounded like thunder building, ready to avalanche down on them.
Yarro laughed too. "Darixu greets you," he said. "This is the Shrouded Vale. The Valley of Dragons."
Hawk saw Azmei tear her gaze away from the boy. She stared up at the great golden dragon looming over them. It met her gaze, expression ineffable. Azmei twitched and then dropped into a deep curtsy. Hawk wondered if he should bow, but opted against it. He would rather be disrespectful than let the dragon bite off her head without a fight.
"I thought the dragons were all gone," Azmei whispered. "They're so..." She trailed off, shaking her head.
The dragon made no move to bite her head off. It sank back on its back legs, looking as if it were waiting for something.
"So did I." Hawk tightened his grip on Talon's hilt.
"I have to go," Yarro said. "I've been Called. Now that I'm here, there's..." He paused. "I have to...I have to Become."
Azmei jerked her gaze away from the dragon and looked at Yar again. "Become?"
Yarro made a helpless gesture. He seemed more alive, more present, than Hawk had ever seen him. "Their word. I think..." He paused for so long Hawk wasn't sure if the boy were going to speak again. Maybe he'd been caught in another vision. But the dragon lowered its head and Yar finally said, "I think it's a joining somehow. Maybe..." He trailed off again.
"An initiation?" Hawk offered, suddenly understanding.
"Yes." Yar gave him a relieved look. "It's all right. I'm safe. They...well, they don't need me. But they want me." He smiled. "They won't hurt me."
"Or us?" Azmei said sharply.
Yar's laughter was the infectious giggle of a boy half his age. "Or you," he said, still giggling. "They welcome Princess Azmei and her Champion Hawk. They thank you for guiding their Voice to them, and invite you to stay in their home this night." He gestured over his shoulder towards the far end of the valley. Hawk followed the gesture and could see a huge stone structure there, though he wasn't certain, at this distance, if it was natural or built.
"I'm not sure..." Azmei began, but Yar touched her shoulder. She stopped talking as he met her gaze. Princess and boy stared at each other for several heartbeats. Hawk didn't dare interrupt. He looked up at the dragon instead, hoping he didn't look as terrified of it as he felt. It watched him with all the contemplation of a bored cat.
"All right," Azmei said finally. She sounded unhappy. "But please be careful, Yar. If you don't like it, tell us."
He gave her a brilliant smile and went to the dragon. It lowered one shoulder for him to climb up. As they watched the boy settle into place on the dragon's back, Hawk felt Azmei's hand creep into his. She squeezed tightly as the dragon flew away, taking Yarro with it.
When it was nothing more than a speck in the distance, Hawk glanced around again. One of the mountain crags seemed to move and he realized it was a golden-brown dragon, stirring in its sleep. Another dragon, its scales a brilliant pearlescent white, was crouched about a quarter of a mile away from them, its head turned to watch them. He tightened his grip on Azmei's hand.
That seemed to jar her out of some reverie. "Well," she said, and tugged away from him. "I suppose we might as well explore."
Hawk told himself he wasn't disappointed she had pulled away. "I suppose so." He sheathed his sword and looked over his shoulder at the horses. They were standing at attention, clearly aware that they were in the presence of something dangerous, but only wary rather than frightened. Hawk sighed and shook himself.
"There's some sort of structure down at the far end of the valley," he said. "We might as well go that way."
"Do you think there are any other people here?"
He paused. "I think the dragons are the people here."
"Humans, I mean."
"Why would they need humans?"
"To eat?" she muttered darkly.
Hawk snorted in amusement. "You were the one who said you'd seen magic things wild and strange. If they were going to eat us, wouldn't they have done it right away?"
"Dragons." She shook her head. "Gods wake and save us. All right. Let's see what's in that structure."
They rode at a leisurely pace down the slope to the river. Once their passage startled a herd of deer that were browsing among the date palms. Hawk's black shied as the deer took flight, but quickly settled down again when he realized it was nothing scary.
Hawk had to fight to keep from relaxing. Azmei was looking around, her head
up and her shoulders loose. The valley's beauty was disarming, and she wasn't fighting it for some reason. Hawk couldn't help but feel as though they were surrounded by hidden dangers, though. The princess might not be worried, but he wasn't going to lower his guard.
The sunshine felt good. It wasn't the searing heat of the desert, but the wholesome warmth of being outside after an illness. The breeze was vaguely scented with jasmine and some other flower he couldn't identify. It lifted his hair away from his forehead and teased at his cloak, doing its best to lull him into carelessness. It was like the whole valley was alive somehow.
"It feels different here," Azmei said. "Welcoming."
Hawk glanced over at her. She wasn't looking at him, but her body was angled towards him; she'd been talking to him.
"Maybe," he said.
Though they didn't hurry, they grew closer to the structure more quickly than he'd expected. As they drew near, the grass thinned out until they were riding across what looked like a limestone courtyard—except that it had never seen the touch of human hands. It was like the land had been trained somehow and grew to the will of its masters. His mouth went dry. How powerful were these dragons, if they could make the earth itself do their bidding?
A petite hand covered his and he jumped. Azmei was looking up at him. "Hawk? Are you well?"
He frowned at her. "You say you feel welcomed here." He swallowed. "I feel nothing but dread."
She looked at him in understanding. "I trust Yar. He said we were welcome here. I...I can tell there is some great power here, but it hasn't hurt us, has it? Confused us, but not hurt us. And we have done nothing to give offense. I think that as long as we are respectful, the dragons will respect us. Because we came with Yar."
Hawk tilted his head in assent, but he was unable to fully relax until they reached the dragons' palace. There was no other word for it. The smooth rock face stretched up at least seventy feet above them, round pillars supporting wide archways that gave access on three levels. Of course there would be openings at the top as well as the bottom, he thought. Dragons could fly. Why would the architecture not support that?
As the horses came to a halt, a sound echoed from inside the palace. It was a whinny—Firefoot? Hawk's horse called a response, ears perked up.
"Sounds like there's stabling within," Azmei said, grinning at Hawk. He swallowed and followed her as she urged her dun through the center arch.
Firefoot had been comfortably stabled in a vast stall. Everything was stone, but the floor was covered in thick straw, with a tall pile of hay and a deep basin full of water. There were dozens of stalls, so Hawk and Azmei settled their horses next to Firefoot. Azmei frowned at the hay.
"I had to teach Yar how to take care of horses, but we never had any hay," she said. "I wonder how he thought to give Firefoot hay." She lifted her head and glanced around. "Hello?" she called. Her voice echoed through the stone passages, but no reply came.
"You think there's someone else here?" Hawk asked.
"I suppose not." Azmei lifted her pack and slung it over one shoulder. "Let's explore. If there's stabling for horses no dragons need, there might be beds for humans no dragons need."
Hawk smiled and gestured for her to lead the way. They reached the end of the row of stalls and came to a stairway up. Upon climbing to the next floor, they entered what looked like a receiving hall. It was wide and punctuated by columns, the ceiling soaring overhead in graceful arches.
"This place could hold a thousand people," Hawk murmured.
"And probably half as many dragons," Azmei agreed. "But where are they all? Even if the dragon—what was its name? Darixu?—anyway, even if the dragon who called Yar had to leave, would all of them go? And go where? Why not have their joining thing here?"
"Maybe there's some sacred spot they have to visit," Hawk suggested. "Who knows what's sacred to a dragon?"
"Mm." Azmei peered around a corner. "There's a passageway here leading further in. Come on."
Hawk followed her through empty stone passageways and empty stone studies and empty stone dining halls, both of them growing more and more perplexed as they continued. It was as if the palace had been full of life one moment and abandoned the next.
"But there's no dust anywhere," Azmei protested. "And there are dining halls, but where are the kitchens?"
"The whole palace is made of stone," Hawk said. "They could have the kitchens on the same levels as the stables with no danger of fire."
"Maybe."
They climbed another set of stairs that wound around and up at least thirty steps. When they got to the top, Azmei stopped so abruptly that Hawk ran into her. The resistance made him flail to keep from falling back down the stairs. Azmei grabbed his arm and tugged him forward.
"Look," she breathed, turning away from him quickly enough that she probably didn't notice the flush on his cheeks. "It's magnificent!"
It was. This was clearly a throne room, but it was a throne room for beings on a grander scale than humans. Instead of an actual throne, there was a raised dais that had a large platform at the center. A gallery up the walls on three sides had square stone bays, almost miniature rooms, except that the walls dividing them were only three or four feet high. The ceiling was at least fifty feet above them and inlaid with some sort of black stone that had pale pink bands running through it. As Hawk turned, staring up at it, sparkles winked at him from the depths of the stone.
"Maybe we shouldn't be in here," he murmured.
"There's no one here," Azmei said. She flashed a smile at him and tugged his hand so he followed her to the back of the room. "Look—there's a staircase built for dragons!"
"Why would dragons need stairs?" Hawk said, but he could see she was right. The steps were wider and deeper than normal steps.
"Baby dragons?" Azmei guessed. "Oh, baby dragons!" She looked delighted at the thought. Hawk thought the idea was a recipe for fiery disaster. But maybe newborn dragons couldn't breathe fire. For that matter, they hadn't seen any indication that these dragons breathed fire. But all the stories said they did.
"I think we should look for a place where we can build a fire and cook supper," he suggested. He was feeling uneasy again.
"Let's go up one more level. There are people-sized—human-sized—stairs over there." Azmei pointed. "What if there are bedrooms and baths up on the top floor? Dear gods, what I wouldn't give for a hot bath!" She ran up the stairs.
Hawk followed more slowly, listening to her footsteps. His leg was beginning to ache, and he had to admit, the thought of a hot bath was a tempting one.
"Hawk, come look!" Azmei sounded pleased, rather than alarmed, but he hastened his steps all the same. When he reached the top of the steps, he found her standing at a waist-high stone wall, looking out across a small plaza. "Fountains! And I'm willing to bet the rooms behind them are baths."
Hawk hummed. "Let's see."
There were, though he was afraid hot baths were too much to hope for. There he was in for a pleasant surprise. The water cisterns had been in the sun all day, so when Hawk pulled the lever that let water sluice down into the basin, it was sun-heated. He grinned at Azmei. "There's your hot bath."
She grinned back. "Merciful dream of a merciful god." She dropped her pack. "There was another bath chamber beyond this one."
Hawk took the hint. "I don't think we should let ourselves be separated," he said. "I'll leave the door open so we can hear each other." Azmei nodded and he went on to his own soak.
The tub was far too big for a human, but he supposed even dragons might like baths. He was afraid to fill the tub too full. He climbed in while it was filling and let the hot water splash down over his thigh, warming away the ache. It felt so good he leaned back against the polished stone side, letting his eyes fall half closed. He could hear the princess splashing in the next chamber. She was humming, the tune breaking up when she ducked under the water and splashed back up. He didn't recognize the tune, but it had a soothing quality.
Water splashed against his chest. Hawk shook himself and sat up, opening his eyes. He must have dozed off. The water was at least a foot deep and the tap was still gushing water at him. He pushed the lever to stop the flow and reached for the cake of soap he'd dug out of his pack.
When he was clean and dry, he stared down at the water. He hadn't noticed a mechanism for draining it, but he could hear gurgling from the next room. He dug out his spare clothes and dressed, shaking his damp hair back from his face. He felt like a new man.
"Azmei," he called softly. "Is there a way to empty the basin?"
"I'll show you," she replied. "That is—are you decent?"
"I'm dressed. I'm not sure if I'm ever decent."
She laughed and came in. "There's another lever on the side of the tub," she said, showing him. "And now that I'm clean, my stomach has decided I'll expire if I don't eat something."
Hawk smiled. "Then we should remedy that."
"I wish the dragons had let Yar stay one more night to show us around before they whisked him off." She sobered, looking at the floor. "Oh. I hadn't thought about him for a while. I was so excited about the bath. I hope he's all right." She glanced up at him from behind the wavy curtain of her chin-length hair.
"He seemed confident he would be," Hawk said. "Come, let's find a good spot to make supper."
***
They ended up back on the stable level. Hawk pointed out, correctly, that with a stable built of stone, there was little danger from a campfire. They found a clean stall near the horses and spread their bedrolls. Hawk offered to go for water.
Azmei waited until Hawk's footsteps had retreated before she sank onto the bed and buried her face in her hands. She'd lost Yarro to a dragon and then forgot about him at the seductive song of the baths. Some protector she was turning out to be. But Yarro had seemed confident and happy when he came back to them. He'd found his Voices. Maybe he didn't need her anymore.
She rubbed her face and pushed her hair behind her ears. She'd been letting it grow out for the past year, though she wasn't sure why. Assassins were better off with short hair.
Stormseer (Storms in Amethir Book 3) Page 34
