“Aye, we do. Our legends tell us that the Mother Dragon sought only to protect us from the other races of Orana that did not understand us, and would seek to keep us as pets or worse.” Gin looked at Sath out of the corner of her eye as he spoke. “I think that she meant to make us HER pets instead.”
“That must be why the dragonkind thought you were my pet, even though they could see that you were Qatu, Sath.”
“Would they think him your pet now, Nature Walker?” Gin’s eyes rocketed up to the dragon’s face. “You don’t keep your mates as pets, do you?” Sath snickered audibly as Gin’s face flushed a deep crimson. The dragon smiled at Sath for a moment until he noticed that they both had their hands over their ears. “Apologies. I forget the differences in our voices and your ears.” He looked back at the orb again that Gin still held. “Could you please—put that away? It troubles me. I cannot explain why, but it does.”
Gin complied with his request. “In truth, Omerith, it makes me uneasy as well—as though someone is watching me through the orb. What should we do with it? The All-Mother felt that you would know how to proceed—what are your thoughts?”
“My thoughts are that I want to do nothing less than burn it until it turns to molten glass, but I fear that because it is enchanted that I might accidentally release Ikara’s magic into the world. We cannot take that chance.” He paced back and forth. “Ginolwenye of the Trees and Qa Sathlir Clawsharp, I need for you to keep this orb safe, at least for the time being. It will take much planning to use it against my mother, and—forgive me, but much more power than only three Guardians can muster. I do not know why Sephine has returned it to the world from the Void when it should have been safe there for the rest of time. Why she does not gather the others there and take care of this?”
Gin shook her head. “Omerith, with all respect, we cannot keep the orb safely any longer. Your mother has already sent an emissary after us to take the orb, and I fear that emissary has magic as well. We came here because we were in danger out there -” Gin stopped talking for a moment and looked around.
“What is it, Gin?” Sath followed her gaze.
“She’s here—well, something is here—someone is here.” Gin turned around in a circle with her eyes closed, concentrating, tracking—and then opened them as she rubbed the back of her neck with her free hand. “I can’t be more exact than that, but someone is close by, and I believe it is the dark elf.”
“Impossible.” Omerith snorted at the idea, and Gin and Sath had to each jump clear of the flames that shot from his ruby nose. “Apologies. But that simply is not possible. After the Forest War, Ikedrians were forbidden from La’al Drygyr—should they make it so far around to our side of the world, and they are killed on sight here. Ikedrians are the mortal enemies of my kind. None would make it this far into my citadel.” He walked over to one of the giant windows to look out, and Gin marveled at the fearsome grace with which such an enormous creature could move. “I do sense that Mother has been in contact with an Ikedrian, but she hides that part of her mind from me, and I do not wish to probe further. This plan of the All-Mother’s will not work—we cannot take my mother’s magic so easily. Now, I know not how you have arrived on our side of the world, but I will make sure of your safe passage back home.”
“Again, with all respect, how can you do that? Make sure of our safe passage, I mean—our histories are full of the names of explorers that sought the dark side of the world and never returned.” Sath glanced over at Gin, who was glaring at him to stop talking. “I assume that there are traps all around your continent, set by the Mother Dragon that keeps those adventurers stuck here for eternity?”
“No. Well, yes, but no. The traps are not all set by my Mother. I set some of them, in the hopes that they would frighten you into staying on your side of the world. But Mother heard tell of them, and she enchanted them so that time would run differently there—if someone happened to escape, they would return home with no one left to tell.” Gin looked at Sath in alarm. The warrior they met at the cabin was one of those prisoners. “Easy, Nature Walker, I saw that you fell into one of the traps, and I made sure that the portal remained open until you could escape.”
“So, no extra time passed at home while we were there?”
“No. But it did alert Mother to your presence, and once she found out that it was you—well, she took matters into her own hands, so to speak.” Omerith smiled sadly at them. “You did very well escaping from her traps, though, even without my help.”
“What do you mean?” Sath stepped protectively in front of Gin, who shoved him to the side as she stared at Omerith.
“J’yr Va’al. The prison that you escaped, and the inn where you two were attacked. The entire peninsula is a time trap—one of her first, an experiment of sorts. Everyone that was originally sent there is gone by now, that’s why you found it sparsely populated. Time actually moves faster there, so while you aged, the world outside of it did not.” Omerith looked from Gin to Sath and smiled. “It is ancient magic, my Guardians. Do not trouble yourselves to work it out.”
Gin smiled sadly. “That is why the food we took from the dwarf disintegrated before our eyes. But the inn? Josiah?”
“Ah, another trap, one that Mother is especially proud of, I’m afraid. All the residents there are in a loop of sorts. They can never leave.”
“What if they. . .die?” Gin was almost afraid to ask but was more horrified when Omerith shook his head.
“They never really die. Those that live there are Mother’s dragonkind; she would not allow that to happen. It is the same day for them, over and over. Those were some of the first adventurers to make it to our continent. They have been repeating the same day for more than a century now. She chose the one male and his compatriots for a specific purpose because she knew that you would recognize him. Why do you frown, Nature Walker? Do you pity him?”
“Yes, Nature Walker, Gin, why do you frown?” Gin met Sath’s gaze and felt his memory of the fight with Josiah in the inn. She scowled.
“I do pity him and all of those trapped there. All they and their ancestors were doing was learning about their world, searching out new land and knowledge, and they suffer a terrible fate. It is not fair.”
Omerith smiled sadly. “It is not fair, you are right—but to let them return with tales of the civilization that we have created here—my sweet Ginolwenye of the Trees, I simply cannot allow that. Surely you understand. They do not know of their fate, does that make it any easier?”
“You are allowing us to return.”
“You two are Guardians. I cannot harm you. Remember? The drake at the Temple to the Mother should have told you that.” Sath looked around at Gin, puzzled, but she shook her head at him.
The drake at the. . .what does he mean?
Later, Sath.
“He did indeed, and I am grateful. All right. Perhaps you should show us to our room, Omerith, for I am terribly weary and would like very much to get some food and a good night’s sleep.” Gin rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “We appreciate your hospitality more than you can know.” Sath nodded and stepped back in between her and the dragon, but this time she allowed it, too tired to tell him to move.
“Of course. Let me call my servants, they will show you to your room and bring you a meal. I will sort out what to do with the orb on the morrow.” Omerith looked toward the door, and in a few minutes, a group of dragonkind males and females—clearly all with human ancestry—entered the room. “Take the Nature Walker and her companion to the guest apartments, and make sure they have whatever they would like to eat and drink.” They nodded in unison and surrounded Gin and Sath before leading them out of the room and down the hall.
The room provided them was on par with the luxuriousness of the palace on Qatu’anari, and Sath immediately flopped down onto the large bed in the bedchamber—once the servants had left them to obtain food and drink. “This is more like it,” he said, grinning and waggling his eyebrows at G
in. She returned his smile, but it was not genuine. “What’s wrong? Do I have to crawl into that beautiful head of yours and find out, or will you just tell me?”
“You will not crawl into anywhere in my mind without my permission, Qatu,” she barked back and then put her hand over her mouth as Sath stared at her, surprised. “I’m sorry, oh my goodness, Sath.” Gin walked over to him and put her hands in his. He looked up at her, and she saw those teal eyes she loved so, looking at her from out of a wood elf body. “I am just tired, and truth be told, I miss you.”
“You miss me? I’m right here!” Sath pulled her into his arms and onto his lap, then kissed her before leaning back to study her expression. “You miss the Qatu me, don’t you?”
“I do. I miss you—I mean, you are you, regardless of how you looked, but tell me honestly, Sath—wouldn’t you grow weary of me in a Qatu suit after a time?”
“No, I mean. . .” Gin sighed loudly and stood up from his lap. She walked away from the bed to look out the window. “No, I wouldn’t because, under the fur, you would still be you.” Sath followed her to the window to stand behind her, his arms wrapped around her. “Here, where it matters, you are still you.”
He turned her around. “Close your eyes.” She did as he asked and soon felt him initiate their bond. Now, open your eyes and tell me what you see. Gin did and squealed with delight as she looked up into his teal eyes, now surrounded by his furry face. I am still me—but the outer me—the gift from your Sephine allows me to be your real mate in every sense of the word.
Yes, I know. But thank you for the reminder.
Still my Gin?
Always, or as long as you’ll have me.
Outside of the guest accommodations, a dragonkind female stood to watch. Ellie, back in control of her body, crept up to the female under her invisibility spell. Once she was sure that there was no one around, she clouted the female on the back of the head with a substantial bit of stone that she had found outside in the courtyard. The sentry slumped forward and fell to the ground, and Ellie wasted no time in dragging her around the corner and then casting invisibility magic over her unconscious body.
Now, Taeben, I am outside their door.
Excellent, my dark flower. You have served me so well. I fear that the next step we must take will cause you a great deal of pain, but I trust that you will continue to do as I ask, will you not?
Of course I will. Always.
Keep that thought in mind, Elspethe.
Why do I sense danger from you, Taeben?
Because you are in danger—good to know you have keen instincts, that will be helpful. You will give me a vital piece of my spellwork to bring myself back into the realm of the living—your body. You and the Mother Dragon have brought me everything I need.
Before she could ask him what he meant, Ellie felt the bond with Taeben sever. She could almost hear it happen, like a large sheet of fabric being ripped in two. Pain gripped her body, and Ellie cried out, wrapping her arms around herself—but her attempts to hold herself together were futile, as Taeben ripped open her soul and stepped out of what was left of her mind. She watched in horror as he looked down at his hands, her Ikedrian hands, and smiled with her mouth at what he saw. Deep inside her mind, Elspethe was still aware—barely so—and she screamed for help as she was pushed further and further back into her own consciousness.
Taeben felt his robes through her fingers, more vivid and real than any of the other times that he had taken over her body. He thought about what her hair might feel like and nearly laughed with glee as his hand—no longer hers—ran its fingers—his fingers—through its silky strands.
“Oh, yes, my dark flower, this will do most nicely.” He grinned at his words spoken with her voice and then snapped his fingers to renew the invisibility magic she had cast. “Yes, indeed.” He called up an image from her memory and used his own magic to copy it—no need for an illusion potion when one possessed the power of the Void, of the gods themselves. He moved over to a window to survey his work and smiled at the reflection.
Far, far back in the recesses of her mind, Ellie crouched—afraid, and alone in the total darkness of the prison that Taeben had been creating there. All those weeks when he was but a low hum in her mind, Taeben built this prison to keep her until he had the magic of the orb and could reunite his mind with his own body. His body would merge with her heart, her lungs, her soul, and her being. She knew that when that happened, she would cease to be, and he would just be Taeben again. She sniffled and then set out to see if she could reach his mind—or anyone’s for that matter -from her prison. Perhaps she could plant memories there or—even better—destroy him from within before he could again be released upon the world. “I am so sorry,” she whispered into the darkness. “I had no idea what he truly was, but now that I know, I will do my best to stop him.”
Twenty-Eight
Of Orbs and Hospitality in La’al Drygyr
Sath woke and sat straight up, thrusting his arms out in front of him to see if his fur had grown back or not. It had not. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Gin stirred, and he looked down at her—how many more mornings would he have like this? What if it WAS permanent? What would happen if the Rajah of Qatu’anari returned, half his regular height and bald as an elf?
“Good morning, Sath. I would say stop staring at me, but I think that’s a lost cause.” She smiled up at him for a moment and then remembered where they were. “The orb!” Before he could stop her, she leaped out of bed and grabbed her haversack. She and Sath could both feel the pulsing energy of the orb before she lifted the flap to look. “Whew.”
“What did you think would have happened to it?” Sath cocked his head to one side as he watched her secure the straps on the haversack.
“I don’t know—the temptation for Omerith has to be very strong. I know if I had a magical object that would bring back those I loved—I mean, Taanyth was his father.”
“Taanyth was insane, Gin. Omerith knew that. It’s part of why he formed the Guardians, remember?” Sath reached out a hand to her, and she took it, climbing back into the bed and snuggling up next to him. “Your longing for your parents is not the same thing at all. I don’t think he was tempted as much as you think.”
“So, what do we do now?” Gin pulled the covers up around her for a moment as she thought. “He didn’t know what to do with it, and he was right—three Guardians are not enough to take the power of the Mother Dragon, even if one of them is her son. We don’t even have the power of surprise on our side, like with Ikara.”
“So maybe we just leave it with him, then.” Sath twirled a stray bit of Gin’s hair in his fingers until she batted his hand away. “I think that’s the safest bet, don’t you?”
“He doesn’t want it, Sath. And if his mother asks for it?”
“He won’t give it to her.”
Gin sighed loudly. “I hope you’re right.” She slid out of bed and wandered around the bedchamber until she discovered a door in one of the walls, and she pulled on the steel loop that served as a doorknob. Inside, there was a smaller room with a basin and a tub. Gin smiled over her shoulder at Sath. “A bath that isn’t in a lake. Lovely. Join me?”
Sath scowled at her, but his expression soon melted into a grin. “I suppose it might not be too bad, go ahead and draw it, I will be there in a moment.” She chuckled and then shut the door behind her, leaving him in the room alone.
Sath got out of the bed, and as soon as he heard her drawing water from the basin to fill the tub, he picked up her haversack. He hadn’t thought about the orb bringing anyone back from the dead. His parents? Kazhmere? Or, if he cast his memory even further back, Raedea. It would be fantastic for her to see how far he’d come—to find out that she was right after all, that there was a male of worth inside him. Sath looked down into his lap, surprised to see the orb in his hand—he didn’t remember taking it out of the bag! He peered into its depths but could see nothing other than the swirling inky blackness
that had been there from the beginning.
Sath, you’ve done all that I knew you could do. I’m so proud of you.
He froze in place, staring into the orb. It wasn’t Gin’s voice in his mind, nor was it the Mother Dragon or Gin’s All-Mother, Sephine.
It’s me, Sath. Rae. I miss you so much, my friend, but I’m happy that you’ve fulfilled your destiny. If only I could meet your Gin—the one my brother was so obsessed with—the one who killed my brother in cold blood.
Wait, Rae, if that really is you—you know why Gin killed your brother.
Because she was ready to move on to her next conquest, I suppose? You, or that wizard? Oh, but he is dead too, isn’t he? My goodness, death really does follow her around, doesn’t it? You should be careful, Qatu, or you’ll be next.
It is not like that AT ALL. Sath growled low in his throat, and as the orb’s pulsing grew faster, it’s swirling began to coalesce into a cyclone inside the glass sphere. It was hot against his palm, but he did not feel that he could put it down—it was a part of his hand, embedded in his skin.
It is, and because I adore you, my friend, I have been sent to warn you. You will end up here with me unless you leave that elf, and soon. The dragon would send you back home if you asked. You are the Guardian of your people, and you deserve a consort worthy of you.
Darkness: A Guardians of Orana Novel Page 25
