by Aaron Ehasz
“Squawk means squawk,” Berto explained. “Same in human language as it is in bird!”
Ezran nodded. Somehow this explanation both made sense and made no sense at all.
“Anyway, since we didn’t beat the storm, we’ll just have to wait it out belowdecks,” Villads said. He turned on his heel and nimbly skidded down the steps to the hatch.
“Hooray,” Rayla said, pretending to celebrate. “We’re wet and miserable and we saved no time at all.” She really was very good at sarcasm, Ezran thought.
Rayla followed Captain Villads belowdecks, but Callum seemed content in the rain. He was staring at the island, his eyes glazed over.
“Hey, are you coming or what?” Rayla asked him.
“Yeah. I agree,” Callum said thoughtlessly. He stood in place as the rain poured down his face.
“Uh-oh, I know that face. It’s the dumb idea face,” Rayla said.
“Rayla,” Ezran said. It seemed like these two were always bickering. “Let’s just everyone go down and dry off.”
Callum half smiled. He ignored Rayla and Ezran. Several bolts of lightning struck the island, and Callum’s eyes lit up. “Every time the lightning strikes … I can feel something,” he said.
“Yeah, me too,” Rayla said. “It feels good not to be struck by lightning.” She gave Callum a toothy grin. Ezran noticed this was not technically sarcasm, but felt similar.
“No, I mean it feels like it did when I used the Fulminis spell,” Callum said. When he had the primal stone and had successfully cast the lightning spell, there had been almost a tingling sensation throughout his whole body.
Zym jumped off Ezran’s shoulder and ran to Callum. The little dragon was hopping up and down, nipping at Callum’s outstretched fingers.
“Don’t tell me you want to go out there?” Rayla made a face. “Please don’t tell me that.”
“Maybe if I’m brave enough to go into it, and face the storm … that’s how I’ll make the connection,” Callum said.
“Come on, Zym,” Ezran pleaded. He lunged after the little dragon, who seemed even more excited by the storm than Callum.
“Or,” Rayla said, raising her pointer finger into the air, “the storm will blow you up until you’re dead. Zap, pow, Callum dust.”
Ezran laughed at Rayla’s joke, but he stopped short when he saw Callum’s face. Suddenly, Ezran wanted to get out of the way of the fight as much as the storm. Then Zym struggled against him, and Ezran realized—Zym was at home in a storm. He was literally in his element. Lightning flashes glinted in Zym’s wide, innocent eyes.
“See? Zym gets it,” Callum said. “He can feel it too. I’m going into it.”
Ezran finally managed to scoop Zym up in his arms. “Actually, I think something is drawing Zym out there,” Ezran said. He didn’t look at Rayla. “It’s like the storm is calling him. You really wanna go out there?” he asked the dragon.
“Oh no, no, no!” Rayla shouted. She smacked her hand on her forehead. “It’s one thing for Callum to stupidly risk his own stupid human life, but I am not gonna let you risk the life of the future king of the dragons.”
Zym looked at Ezran with puppy dog eyes and whined softly.
Ezran ignored Rayla and brought Zym over to Callum.
“He is a storm dragon—he’ll be safe,” Ezran said. He placed Zym in Callum’s arms. “Take care of him, and take care of yourself.”
“I will,” Callum said.
“I was talking to Zym,” Ezran said. Then he waved goodbye to his brother and the dragon. Everything would be okay.
As Callum and Zym disembarked from the Ruthless, Rayla shook her head. “If you die out there, I swear I’ll kill you,” Rayla called after them.
Callum just waved in response.
The sun was setting. Viren stood on King Harrow’s old balcony, watching the orange beams wash over the kingdom, lost in his own thoughts. He wanted to learn more about the mysterious mage, but every cell in his pragmatic body told him there was nothing but danger to be found in the mirror.
As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, Viren took another sip of his afternoon cup of hot brown morning potion and turned the knife over in his hand. Would he spill his own blood for this mystery mage?
Ka-cawww!
Viren’s head snapped up to the sky. Far above him, a large black crow flapped its heavy wings. It was headed toward the rookery, clutching a scroll. Viren jumped up and abandoned his hot brown morning potion, which admittedly was now lukewarm.
As he dashed off to the rookery, his staff in his hand, Viren could barely contain his hope that one of the other kingdoms had responded to his letter. Would the other leaders suspect anything unusual? Or would the famous red seal protect Viren’s message from scrutiny?
Viren burst through the rookery doors, breathless. “Did something come for me?” he gasped.
The Crow Master looked surprised by Viren’s harried entrance, but recovered quickly.
“Ah, yes, High Mage,” he said. “Four messages, in fact.” He turned to the shelf behind him to retrieve the scrolls.
Viren couldn’t believe the oversight. This guy was truly an incompetent. “Four messages came for me and I was not informed?” he asked. He summoned his most withering stare.
“Actually, we searched the entire castle,” the Crow Master said. “We couldn’t find you anywhere. What, are you hiding out in some secret chamber somewhere?”
The Crow Master was joking, but he had guessed correctly.
Viren stared him down. “I was in the bathroom.”
“Got it,” the Crow Master said. “Sounds serious.” He gave a little nod that struck Viren as way too familiar, so he ignored it.
The Crow Master started to sift through the messages, but Viren snatched them out of his hand. He skimmed the letters quickly, and a warm feeling flooded his body. It was exactly the response he needed. His plan was working, and Viren was bursting to share the news.
“The other four kingdoms have agreed to a summit of the Pentarchy,” Viren told the Crow Master. Confiding in the Crow Master was beyond inappropriate, but this youth wouldn’t know what he was talking about. Besides, he was Viren’s only audience.
“Wow! That sounds important,” the Crow Master said.
“Yes!” Viren shouted. He raised his staff in the air. “I will rally the kings and queens behind Katolis and finally destroy the Xadian threat! You, young man, are witnessing history.”
“That’s really great,” the Crow Master said. “Yeah. Awesome.” He picked some dirt out from underneath his fingernail. “Would you rate the service you received today as excellent?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Viren said. He had momentarily forgotten to whom he was speaking. “You can have the survey or what-have-you sent to my office.”
Viren left the rookery with the scrolls tucked beneath his arm. This positive turn of events gave him the confidence to decide once and for all about the strange magic blood ritual and the Startouch elf. He walked purposefully to his secret study, knife in hand.
The Mirror Mage was seated in the same position Viren had left him in. His thin mouth cracked into a smirk when he saw Viren.
Viren stood in front of the mirror, holding the knife in front of him. Then he dropped the knife on the table.
The Mirror Mage stood up and pointed his own knife at his wrist again, as if Viren had misunderstood.
But Viren was never confused. He grabbed the heavy drapery he used to cover the mirror and threw it over the glass, ending communication with the elf … for now. His original plan was panning out; curious as he was about this elven mage on the other side of the looking glass, there was no reason to take any risks. He no longer needed to engage with this mysterious being.
A hard rain swirled through the cloud-darkened skies, drenching Callum to the very bone. It wasn’t that he was rethinking his decision to leave the relative safety of the Ruthless and face a brutal storm with a ten-pound baby dragon as his only protection … it
was just that he’d lost some of his initial enthusiasm for the adventure.
Callum sat on a large, flat boulder with his legs crossed and eyes closed in search of a meditative state. Pebble-like raindrops hammered his cheeks, and Zym pranced across his lap like a puppy. Meditation was impossible.
Callum tried to focus himself and be present in the moment. Maybe if he spoke his thoughts and feelings aloud, he would gain some clarity. “Okay. It’s wet. The wind is blowing,” Callum said as a gust lashed at his face. “It’s blowing a lot! I’m cold, I’m soaked. Hey, Zym, is your skin supposed to wrinkle up like this when you understand the Sky arcanum?” Callum opened his eyes. His fingers looked like prunes.
Zym responded with a cascade of happy gurgles. Callum made and released a fist. He didn’t feel any different in the storm. Maybe he needed to get to higher ground. He began climbing a higher boulder up the cliff. Zym easily hopped up ahead of him and looked down at Callum as he struggled. Then Callum’s grip loosened in the rain—
“Ooooomph.”
He slipped and slid down the boulder, landing hard on his back. It wasn’t a huge fall, but the impact left Callum feeling helpless. He closed his eyes and let the rain wet his face like tears he refused to wipe away.
Zym was watching Callum with concern. He crawled onto Callum’s chest and spread his wings to shield him.
Callum held Zym up so they were face-to-face. He wished he could feel the magic again. He wished Zym could show him how.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to get this, Zym,” he said. “You’re a magical creature. Somehow, it’s inside you. But I’m just a human. There’s nothing inside me. I want this so much. When I could do magic, I finally felt like myself … and now I’ve lost that. I’m just trying to find my way back.”
Zym squirmed in Callum’s hands and looked toward the shore meaningfully. Callum followed Zym’s intent gaze. An old wooden windmill sat atop another cliff that jutted out over the water. Bolts of lightning struck the area every few seconds. Something about the windmill seemed magnetic, as if it were attracting the power and energy of the storm to itself.
Callum curled his fingers into a spyglass shape and looked through the little window at the stormy scene. Blocking the rest of the world out with his hands made Callum feel as if he were staring at the primal stone again.
“That’s where we need to go!” he shouted.
Zym was already running toward the distant windmill, which whirred and creaked in the heavy winds. As they drew closer, Callum realized the storm was worse on this part of the island. Tree branches crashed to the ground, and thunder rumbled.
Callum knew he had to reach the thin iron pole on the top of the windmill. Then lightning struck the pole, and Callum froze. The entire island was illuminated for a moment; a tiny speck on the enormous sea. Callum shuddered from the cold, but pressed on to the windmill.
When they reached a ladder at the windmill’s base, Callum hoisted Zym onto his shoulders and started the slippery ascent. He could feel Zym’s claws digging into his shoulders and the baby dragon’s warm, fast breath on his neck. The danger didn’t matter—all the secrets lay at the top of the windmill. Callum moved forward. This was the closest he’d ever felt to fearlessness.
When they finally reached the top of the windmill, Callum closed his eyes. Okay, Callum. You can do this. You are right where you need to be. Now, connect to the Sky arcanum. Connect …
Nothing happened.
Callum looked at the lightning rod. Then he reached out to touch the rod’s cold, rusted surface. At the last moment, he winced and withdrew his hand. Up above, the storm swirled and flashes of lightning rattled the clouds.
“I have to do this,” Callum said, more to himself than Zym. “I have to understand the Sky primal. Whatever the risk, it’s the only way.”
Callum lunged for the lightning rod. When he felt the cold metal in his fingers, he squeezed with everything he had, not caring that the rusted pole was cutting into his palm. Callum looked up at the sky. The thick, dark clouds roiled, and the sounds of thunder seemed to get closer and louder. His breath became faster and faster. He closed his eyes tight. What would it feel like? Would it surge through him, filling him with knowledge and power? Would it hurt, or even … kill him?
“Come on, come on …”
Wait. How stupid was he?! He couldn’t risk his life to learn magic. He pulled his hand back. That was close.
Callum looked over his shoulder at Zym, who was staring at him with wide, round eyes. Callum immediately felt better. He knew his life was so much more important than any power he might gain. He wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, he felt so relieved. Was it possible the baby dragon was smiling at him?
CRASHHHHH!
A bolt of lightning struck Zym. The tiny dragon’s expression froze as he tumbled off Callum’s shoulders.
At a glance, General Amaya knew that the Sunfire elves outnumbered her troops. The only practical option was escape. But they had been surrounded so quickly that there was no longer a clear path to retreat, so Amaya intended to create her own path. She braced herself and lifted her massive shield. With her head lowered beneath the shield, she charged through a line of elven warriors. She could feel the onslaught of elves falling against her shield, and she knew that any moment might be her last. But if her troops could escape through the path she was forging, it would be a worthwhile sacrifice.
Just as Amaya sensed that the route was clearing and her troops came up beside her, she came face-to-face with the Sunfire knight.
The knight wielded her glowing Sunforge blade, unstoppable by human weapons. She strutted toward General Amaya, knocking out a few of Amaya’s soldiers on the way. But Amaya knew that she was the elf’s real target. The Sunfire knight was sizing her up, circling her, determining just how difficult a battle this would be.
The Sunfire knight smiled. Amaya recoiled at her confidence. Then she sheathed her own sword and put her shield on her back. Both were useless now.
Amaya raised her unarmed hands and gestured to the Sunfire knight. Even though the knight probably didn’t understand sign language, Amaya was pretty sure her meaning was clear: Bring it.
The Sunfire knight rushed at her, swinging her searing-hot blade. Light on her toes, Amaya ducked and dodged. It was a risky, dangerous dance, and Amaya focused all her energy on her nimble feet.
Finally, Amaya managed to grab the elf’s sword hand for an instant, just long enough to grapple her to the ground. They rolled and wrestled in a contest of strength to gain control of the magical weapon. In a sudden move, Amaya flipped her opponent, and the blade flew far across the outpost. Amaya waved at her troops to flee. The Sunfire knight roared with fury.
Amaya did a double take. Was the knight’s skin … changing color? It darkened and crackled with molten fiery lines. Amaya knew that some elves had inherent magical abilities, but she had never seen this one before.
The knight seemed to draw upon the intense heat energy of the lava for a fearsome burst of strength.
As if to prove her new power, she struck the cavern wall with one fist, causing the rock to crack and break. Then she charged Amaya.
Amaya thought fast. She could fight this elf now and likely lose her life. Or she could sacrifice the mountain fortress and retreat. Amaya had too much left to fight for—she wouldn’t sacrifice her life for the fortress. She backpedaled and joined her retreating troops.
Moments later, Amaya and her troops had slipped through the gate. As it slammed behind them, Amaya looked back wearily. The mountain fortress was lost.
Callum scooped Zym up in his arms and brought him close to his face. The baby dragon’s eyes were closed, but he was breathing steadily.
SOOBBBB.
Callum wished he could expel all his self-hatred with a single sob. What a stupid thing to do. Risk his own life—well, who cares? But to risk the baby dragon’s? He hobbled down the boulders to the shoreline and turned toward the Ruthless. The weather had star
ted to clear, and a few rays of light pierced the evening clouds. Callum could see Rayla and Ezran standing on the ship. Both had their hands shielding their eyes, like they were trying to see out into the distance. As Callum hurried toward them, he could see Rayla pointing in his direction. They could see him!
Callum looked down at Zym. Rayla had been right, of course. She was going to rub it in his face for sure. And he deserved it. The only thing to do was take ownership of his actions—to admit how foolish he’d been. Callum lifted his head up as he approached the boat.
“Callum!” Ezran yelled from the boat. “Hey, where’s Zym?”
Callum didn’t answer. He heard Rayla whispering. It was hard to make out exactly what she was saying to Ezran, but the words stupid and idiot were unmistakable. Before Callum knew what was going on, Rayla and Ezran were scrambling along the shore to meet him.
“Callum! What happened?” Rayla shouted.
“We went into the heart of the storm, and Zym … he got struck by lightning,” Callum said. He choked back another sob.
Rayla gasped.
“But I think he’s okay,” Callum said a little sheepishly. He revealed Zym, bundled in his arms. The baby dragon squinted and cocked his head to one side. Then he smiled.
HIC! Little lightning sparks crackled out of Zym’s mouth as he hiccuped.
“I’m so relieved,” Ezran said. He scooped up Zym and hugged him.
“I’m really, really sorry,” Callum said. “I feel stupid. You were right.” He looked Rayla directly in the eye.
“Callum …” she said. She reached her hand out and placed it on his shoulder.
“I could have gotten Zym killed. I put us both in danger. And worst of all, when we were right there, in the center of the storm? I wanted to understand magic so badly I almost risked my own life. But in the end, I didn’t have the guts …”
“Good,” Rayla said. “That’s good.” She hugged Callum hard.
Callum gulped. Rayla’s thin, strong arms wrapped around him meant everything. He smiled and hugged her back.
