“Damn!” he said softly, but intensely.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Jax asked.
“I can’t read it,” Kelvich admitted. “I don’t know if this is an ancient language or some type of cryptology that this sect used to protect its secrets.”
“Do you think they’ll all be unreadable?”
“I don’t know,” Kelvich admitted. “I think the best thing we can do is take a sample from different shelves and just check them all. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
They spent the rest of the day checking the scrolls, but they were all written in the strange language that Kelvich didn’t recognize. That evening as they shared their dinner with Brianna and Zollin, Kelvich related his disappointment.
“I’m still convinced that there is knowledge we could use in those scrolls,” he said.
“Well, if there is, we need to uncover it,” Zollin said. “Is there a spell I can use to decipher the scrolls?”
“No,” Kelvich said sadly. “Remember, you can do practically anything you can imagine, but if you don’t know how something works, you can’t do it. You can’t make a working mill if you don’t understand how the mill uses the wheel and a stone to grind the wheat into flour. You can’t heal a wound if you don’t know how the affected tissues work and what lies underneath the skin.”
“So what options do we have?” Brianna asked.
“I think our best bet is to take the scrolls to Ebbson Keep. There are scholars there who might know the language or at least might have the best chance of translating the information.”
“Are you volunteering?” Zollin said.
“I might as well, I’m little use to you here.”
“That might not be true,” Zollin said. “There’s no telling what may happen. We may need your wisdom.”
“You know more about dragons than I do. I’ve never studied the creatures; in fact, I’ve never seen a serious work about them, only stories.”
“But you know a lot about magic,” Zollin said. “I might need you.”
“No, you don’t need me anymore,” Kelvich said, his voice both proud and a little sad. “I’ve taught you how to learn, what you fill your mind with is up to you.”
They looked at each other for a long moment, both remembering their long winter together in Kelvich’s little cabin in the hills outside Brighton’s Gate. They had bonded that winter, and Zollin had learned to use his powers in ways he had never imagined. He could send his magic out like a rolling mist, sensing everything it touched. He could also delve deep inside the smallest object, sensing the tiniest parts of that object, things so small no human eye had ever seen them. He could take things apart and put them back together or form whole new things, just using his magic. But more than anything, Kelvich had taught Zollin how to be comfortable dwelling in the center of the magical flow that existed inside the young wizard. That same power had threatened to overwhelm him when he’d first discovered it. Now he could use it—and had used it, both to create and destroy. He enjoyed helping the soldiers build the shrine. They had made remarkable progress that day and Zollin believed that they would finish in the next day or two. Still, the thought of seeing Kelvich leave made him sad. He didn’t want his mentor to leave.
“What would you need to transport the scrolls to Ebbson Keep?” Zollin asked.
“A wagon,” Kelvich said, “probably two of them. It would be much better to bring the scholars here, but we don’t have the time to do that. I’m certain that we need the information in those scrolls to defeat the dragon.”
“What if you’re wrong?” Brianna asked.
“Then you haven’t lost anything but a crazy old man,” Kelvich replied. “But if I’m right, we’ll need the knowledge on the scrolls.”
“Alright, you can go,” Zollin said.
“I want to take Jax with me,” Kelvich said.
“Me?” the boy asked. He was obviously torn. He liked working with Kelvich, who had a way of making him feel like an equal instead of just a child. The soldiers were kind to him, but they still treated him like a boy. He wanted to see the dragon and the thought of that more than anything made him want to stay. “I want to help fight the dragon,” he said.
“You’d be a good help,” Kelvich said, “but I need help, too. I’ve got to get those scrolls to Ebbson Keep safely, and I can’t do it alone.”
“Why not take some of the soldiers with you?” Jax said.
“I could, but they don’t understand the importance of the scrolls like you and I do. Plus, if you go with me, I could teach you to read.”
“Really?” Jax said in surprise.
“Absolutely,” Kelvich assured him. “I’ll have you reading by the time we get there, guaranteed.”
Jax was smart and he could recognize a few words, but he’d never had time to attend essentials school. He knew numbers and had a quick mind for math, but no one had ever taught him to read.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll go.”
“You better make sure you have your bow in good shape,” Brianna said.
“That’s right,” Zollin agreed. “Kelvich will make you hunt him some rabbits along the way, I’d bet.”
The boy smiled and retrieved his bow.
“I’ll need help constructing something suitable to hold the scrolls,” Kelvich said to Zollin. “I only wish I knew some way to determine which were the most relevant, so I could take them with me.”
“You can’t get them all in a wagon?” Brianna asked, surprised. She hadn’t been down inside the hidden library.
“No, not without risking the scrolls getting damaged.”
“Well, just do your best,” Zollin said. “There’s nothing else you can do.”
They went to sleep that night thinking about how to help Kelvich accomplish his goal. The next day Zollin made a rack to hold over a hundred of the scrolls in the back of a wagon. He also crafted springs so that the bed of the wagon wouldn’t be jolted too badly. Brianna helped Kelvich and Jax load the scrolls. There was more than half of the library still in the hidden chamber.
“Be sure that you seal this in a way that we can find it, but that fire or vermin can’t get to it,” Kelvich said to Zollin. “It’s invaluable.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Zollin said.
“Jax, remember what I taught you with your bow,” Brianna said as she embraced the boy. “I’ll miss you.”
“And I’ll miss you,” he said, smiling.
“I’ll stay in Ebbson until we can read the scrolls. Then I’ll return here,” Kelvich said. “You know where to find me if you need me.”
“I do,” said Zollin. “I’ll send you word when we leave here.”
“Alright, be safe,” said the sorcerer.
“And you as well,” Zollin said.
They hugged, then Zollin hugged Jax while Brianna said her goodbyes to Kelvich. Then Zollin and Brianna stood close beside one another while they watched Kelvich and Jax ride away in the wagon.
“Why didn’t you suggest that I go with them?” Brianna asked him as they walked back to their campsite.
“I didn’t want you to go,” he said honestly.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll get hurt?”
“Yes.”
Brianna looked at Zollin. He heart ached for him. She wanted to throw her arms around him and stay there, in his embrace, forever. But then the doubts came: did she really love him or was he somehow manipulating her? She tried to use reason to quell the doubts. Did it matter if he was influencing her emotions? He was a good person, strong and kind, handsome in his way and sincere. He didn’t hide the way he felt about her, so why was she so hesitant to love him back? She didn’t know, but something held her back and kept her from giving herself to him completely.
“I can take care of myself,” she said. “I’m not going to try and be a hero.”
“I didn’t think you would,” Zollin explained. “I know how capable you are, I just can’t help worrying. When Branock took you, I was sick wit
h worry. Fighting a dragon with you seems insane, and yet, I can’t stand the thought of being apart from you.”
He looked into her eyes, but she looked away. Zollin had hoped that she was coming back to him so many times since he had been arrested in Felson, yet she pulled back every time. She was holding herself away from him, and he didn’t know what else to do but to be patient and to love her.
“I’m glad you didn’t try to send me away,” she said. “This is where I want to be.”
“Here, in this place?” Zollin asked. “Or with me?”
She smiled at him, but then, without saying a word, she crawled into her little tent. Zollin was left standing alone. The soldiers were winding down for the day. A rich aroma was wafting from the cooking fires. Even with all the activity around him, Zollin felt lonely. He didn’t know if he had lost Brianna forever, but the fear of seeing her with someone else was so intense it paralyzed him. He stood for several minutes, his heart racing at the thought that she might choose to leave, to be somewhere else, with someone else. Then he sat down on the little blanket outside his tent. He started a fire with a thought and wondered what he’d done wrong to push Brianna away.
Chapter 18
The dragon came out of its lair and sniffed the cold mountain air. It had taken the woman several days to journey back to her farm, where the dragon was keeping the gold it had acquired. She bagged the gold and scrubbed its scales, then it sent her back out to warn more towns of its coming.
It had taken the beast only one day to bring its gold back to its lair, high in the northern range of mountains the humans called the Northern Highlands. It had spent another day melting the metal down. It used its fiery breath, blasting the bags of gold until they were nothing but ash and heating the precious metal until it pooled into liquid. He was adept at scraping the slag off the surface with his tail until the puddle of gold was completely pure. Then it let the gold spread out over the surface of the cavern floor to cool.
Now, after sleeping on the golden floor, it was rejuvenated and felt stronger than ever. The dragon was a magical creature, and being surrounded by gold somehow enhanced its healing abilities. The dragon was strengthened by magic, but it was sustained by gold. Gold could also be used to control the beast, but that bit of magical lore had long been forgotten. At least, the beast thought it had, until it heard the voice in its head.
It was perched on the ledge of the cave it called home, relishing the cold mountain air and tasting the currents to see if food was nearby. The dragon’s forked tongue flickered in and out of its mouth, flashing between the razor sharp teeth to taste the air. There was a mountain ram nearby and the dragon was just about to go in search of it when the voice spoke. It was like having a thought, but it was completely foreign.
Come south! the voice said.
The dragon shook its head and roared, then listened as its voice echoed off the mountains. It waited a moment, not sure what had happened, but then the voice came again.
Come south and join me! it said.
It wasn’t a suggestion, but a command. It had no authority over him, but the dragon could hear it. It was a magical voice, not auditory, not close by. It was a wizard’s voice, the dragon determined. It was calling to the beast, and the beast wanted to answer the call. It knew the danger and it loathed the idea of being a slave again, but the lure of the magic was strong. The dragon loved magic. Just being close to it was delicious. It relished chaos and destruction, coveted gold, but, more than all those things, it loved magic.
The dragon jumped into the air, flapping its leathery wings and rising up on the currents of air. It wanted to forget the voice, to get lost in the thrill of flying, to submerge itself in the hunt, but the enticing voice would not go away.
Come south. Join your power to mine. Come to me.
The dragon roared again, angry this time. It would not be enslaved, it vowed inwardly. It would not serve. It was dragonkind, the strongest of all living creatures. It blew out a stream of orange flames that rolled back over its body. Then it dove toward the ram that was hopping down the mountain below, balancing on small rock outcroppings and sliding down the loose gravel and dirt as nimbly as a dancer prancing across a stage. But the ram had no place to hide, and the dragon snatched it off the mountainside with its talons and flipped the terrified animal up into the air, where the beast snapped it up in its fiery maw.
The dragon could have consumed most of the ram in one ferocious bite, but it was hungry and flew to a mountain ridge where it could perch and eat the ram slowly, savoring each part. It ate the ram’s head first, crunching the skull and horns like a child eating hard candy. Then it ate each of the legs before roasting the body in flames. The thick, wooly hide burned away and the dragon gobbled the rest down in one giant, greedy bite.
The voice had stopped and eating made the dragon feel better. It decided to spend one more night in its lair, where it felt safest and strongest. Then it would set out and continue its desolation of the south lands.
* * *
It took Mansel two days to get his sea legs. He couldn’t eat or sleep and finally woke up late on the third day after passing out from complete exhaustion. When he opened his eyes, he was in his hammock, his back aching and his stomach burning. His tongue was swollen and his lips were severely chapped. He could feel the motion of the ship, but he didn’t feel like throwing up. He ignored his pain and hunger as long as possible, afraid that if he moved, he would get sick again. Finally, he rolled out of the hammock and fell onto the floor. He hurt everywhere and felt so weak that he wasn’t sure he could stand up.
He struggled to his knees, his back was very stiff and it took several minutes before he could straighten up. Finally, pulling on the hammock for support, he rose to his feet. He was dizzy, but not nauseous, and even though he was fearful that the gut wrenching dry heaves would send him staggering back to the railing of the ship, he stepped to the door of the little cabin he shared with Quinn. His companion was not in his bunk and so Mansel flung open the door. The cool sea air felt refreshing, and Mansel realized he was hungry. He turned around and went back inside the cabin. The small chest they had filled with food stood untouched. Mansel knelt down and pulled out a small loaf of bread. He tore the loaf in half and then took a bite. The bread was soft, but Mansel found it difficult to eat. He was dehydrated and his swollen tongue kept getting in the way of his teeth.
They had ale and wine in their cabin, but Mansel wanted water. In fact, he was craving it so strongly he felt he could dive into the ocean and drink it all. He went back out onto the ship’s main deck. A sailor was passing by him and Mansel called.
“Where’s the water?”
“Over there,” the man pointed to a large barrel with a long-handled dipper hooked to one side. “Help yourself.”
Mansel hurried over and dipped out some of the clear water. It tasted clean and sweet. He drank the dipper full and then another and finally a third before his thirst abated enough for him to take a look around. He munched on the bread as he looked up at the ship’s massive sails. They were filled with wind, swelling out and propelling the ship through the water. There were men in the rigging and men on the deck. Everyone seemed busy tending to the ship, which was plowing across the waves. Then Mansel saw Quinn. The older man was passed out beside the railing of the ship. His eyes were sunken and his skin pale. Mansel couldn’t believe the sailors had just left him there. He wanted more water, but instead, he took the dipper over to Quinn and knelt down beside his mentor’s head. He lifted Quinn up and let the water dribble from the dipper onto Quinn’s lips.
Quinn moaned, his lips were chapped and peeling, but his tongue darted out, desperate for the water. Mansel could see Quinn’s eyes moving underneath the thin eyelids, but they didn’t open. Mansel continued to slowly dribble the water, even as his own thirst built into a ferocity that he could scarcely control. His back was burning with the strain of being bent over, but Mansel took his time. Quinn wasn’t quite drinking the water
so much as letting it soak into his swollen tongue. When Mansel had used all the water in the dipper, he stood up and pulled Quinn onto his shoulder. Quinn wasn’t big, he was short, with a wiry build of hardened muscles from years of carpentry. Mansel was a head taller, broad through the chest, with large, round shoulders. He would have normally carried Quinn easily, but he was weak. He staggered back to their cabin and gently lowered the older man into the hammock.
Then he returned to the water barrel, but this time he brought two wooden mugs with him. He ladled water into the mugs then returned to the cabin. He spent the next hour nursing Quinn and drinking water. Finally his stomach felt bloated, and he settled back into his own hammock. The light was fading outside, and when he woke up, the sun was bright again.
Five Kingdoms: Books 01, 02 & 03 Page 94
