Zhimosom struggled to wake himself from the dream, but something held him in it.
He tried to look away, but he could not.
All he could do was watch as the life of his friend drained away to feed Sulrad.
As Brill’s breathing came to a halt, Sulrad looked straight at Zhimosom. “I hope you are watching closely. This is on your conscience.” He laughed and looked away.
Zhimosom felt himself released from the dream and woke in a cold sweat. Had Sulrad killed Brill or was it just a dream? He had to find out. He had to know. He couldn’t have her death on his conscience. He had failed her.
He reached out for Rotiaqua.
She was asleep, but the connection was so strong now that it didn’t matter.
“Rotiaqua. Wake up,” he said.
She came to her senses quickly for having been awakened so abruptly. “What is it?”
“Sulrad ... He sacrificed Brill and took her life force.”
“What do you mean, sacrificed?”
“He has a special room in the temple where he tied her up and killed her. I saw it. I thought it was a dream, but I couldn’t break free. When he finished with her, he looked right at me. He knows about us. He’s coming.”
“He knows about us?”
“He knows who I am, and he knows about you through me. He said a wizard or sorceress are even better for his sacrifice than Brill.” Zhimosom shook with rage. “He killed her. I know it.”
If Sulrad knew who he was, they were not safe. Not him. Not Rotiaqua. Sulrad was a regular at the castle and frequently dined with Rotiaqua’s father. That brought her into contact with him. He must know who she was.
“I can’t fight him. He’s too strong, and he gains strength from his victims. I did it by mistake with a mouse. I wanted to see what its life force was like, and I absorbed it. It was horrifying. I felt dirty. I could never take magic from another creature, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. Soon he’ll have enough power to break through our shields and find us both.”
“What are we going to do?” Rotiaqua asked.
Zhimosom was taken aback.
Usually, she was so confident that he felt a little intimidated by her, but here she was asking him what to do.
“We flee.” Zhimosom wanted to sound confident, but he knew they would never be safe with Sulrad around. “If he finds out about you, we’re both in trouble. Your father will hang us if Sulrad doesn’t get to us before him.”
“You mean run? Where would we go?”
“Anywhere but here. We can’t wait. We should go now.”
“I’ll meet you at the copse of trees just outside of the city,” Rotiaqua said. “We can talk then. Meet me there at sunrise.”
With that, Zhimosom dropped the connection. He packed his meager belongings and sat on his bed, awake and terrified until the darkness took him.
Zhimosom slept fitfully, worrying about meeting with Rotiaqua in the morning. He was excited to see her in the flesh again, but recalled all too well what would happen if he were caught anywhere near her outside of his normal duties. When he was not worrying about meeting Rotiaqua, he was sick with worry over what must have happened to Brill. He was convinced now that Sulrad had killed her to power his spells.
When sunrise came, he felt as if he had not slept at all. He brushed his clothes straight and headed down to the stables to prepare Rotiaqua’s horse and gear for her. Once he was finished, he made an excuse to the stable master that he was ill and needed to spend the morning in bed. The stable master berated him, but excused him with a strict admonition to be healthy by the noon meal.
Released from his duties, he ran as fast as he could to the copse of trees Rotiaqua had mentioned. He arrived there out of breath and exhausted, but didn’t have long to wait until Rotiaqua arrived.
She handed Zhimosom the reins and jumped down from her horse, circled around the beast, and hugged Zhimosom tightly.
He was so surprised, he almost let the horse run free, but he forced himself to relax and tentatively return the hug.
“Why so restrained?” Rotiaqua asked.
“My Lady, it’s not proper. I don’t want to end up in the stocks again.”
“Don’t worry. No one will see us. If they do, I’ll tell them I ordered you here to assist me with my horse.” She found a convenient outcropping of rock and sat down. She patted the stone beside her. “Sit.”
Zhimosom took a seat, but he kept his distance.
“How long have you known me?” Rotiaqua reached out and grasped his hand.
Zhimosom felt a tingle of anxiety but didn’t pull his hand back. “I ... I don’t know, My Lady. I first met you in the fire back at my homestead. That was a long time ago.”
“It’s been almost two summers.” Rotiaqua intertwined her fingers with his. “We talk almost every day. Why are you so shy?”
“It ... It’s not the same. When we talk by magic, I know no one will discover us. This ... This is different.”
“No one will discover us here.” She squeezed his hand. “We are joined, you and I. Our magic works together. I think it is fated that we be together.”
Zhimosom tried to yank his hand away, but she grasped it tightly.
“Not like that,” she said. “I mean in magic. I believe we’re fated to work together. I can feel the magic so much stronger in me when we share our power ... I know you feel it too.”
“I do, but we cannot be seen together, My Lady. It’s not permitted.”
“Not permitted.” She shook her head. “Promise me you will not leave without me.”
“Without you? I thought we were going to run away together ... now ... before Sulrad finds us.”
“I know you’re worried about Sulrad, but we’re still safe ... at least for now ... If he knew how to find you, he would have come after you already. Don’t let him chase you away from me.”
“But I thought you were ready to go,” Zhimosom said.
“I can’t leave. My father would hunt us down and bring us back, and then he’d kill you. Where would we go that people won’t recognize me?”
“We can get off your father’s land. Maybe we can go to Amedon, where the wizards are. We would be safe there.”
Rotiaqua laughed. “We can’t run off in a blind rush. This will take planning.”
Zhimosom wanted nothing more than to run off. Now. Right that instant, but he could not leave her. Not anymore. She was right. The way her magic combined with his was powerful, heady, exhilarating. He couldn’t just walk away.
“I’ll stay,” he said.
“I want your oath. That you’ll wait until I’m ready.”
“I promise.”
“Blood oath.” Rotiaqua reached inside her boot and pulled out her knife. “When two people make a solemn promise, sometimes they seal it with blood. We’re bound by magic. Now let’s seal it with blood.”
She placed the knife against her palm. Zhimosom noticed that there was already a light scar there. Had she done this in the past, then?
Before he had a chance to think, she made a cut across her palm. The blood welled up. She grasped his palm and made the same quick slice. She grasped his hand and joined their blood together.
“Together,” Rotiaqua said.
“Together,” Zhimosom repeated.
Zhimosom felt a tingle as their blood mixed and they spoke the words.
He expected that was all there was, but quickly realized something more was happening. Suddenly, Zhimosom was aware of Rotiaqua now in a way he had never been. He felt her holding his hand, not as himself, but as her. Zhimosom experienced his touch as Rotiaqua did. His hand was larger and stronger than hers. It was comforting.
As Zhimosom contemplated that, a rush of memories came flooding in. Almost too much to bear. There were images of being a young girl on the estate of the baron, of learning to ride a horse, of days spent in the fields and forests of the baron with a maid who might as well have been Rotiaqua’s mother. Another image arose. This much
more clearly. It was a dragon. Large and powerful, yet small and furry at the same time. How strange. It was as if one of the dragons of legend had infused his blood with its own.
“Zhimosom?” Rotiaqua called to him through the fog of memories.
He shook off the vision and looked back at her.
She didn’t say a word, but he knew she’d felt it too.
He reached out with his magic and created a spell of healing as he’d witnessed Sulrad employ and healed both their hands, stopping the flow of blood.
He glanced around. The shadows were nearly vertical. They had been sitting there the whole morning. “I had better be getting back to the stables,” he said.
“So soon?” Rotiaqua asked.
“It’s nearly midday. I must go. We can talk later.”
“If you must. But ride with me?”
“It’s not proper. I can’t be seen with you. You ride. I walk.”
He helped Rotiaqua up on her horse.
She leaned down. “Why walk?”
“I cannot ride with you. Someone will see me,” he said.
“Not ride. You were able to travel from the temple to your home before using your magic. Try it now.”
He blinked.
Why hadn’t he thought of that?
He’d done it before. Why not now?
He closed his eyes and imagined himself back in his room.
His guts churned as if he had dropped several feet, then he felt a slight shudder.
It had worked.
But he wasn’t alone.
He could feel that too.
He opened his eyes and saw Sulrad standing in the middle of his room.
“Ah, there you are,” Sulrad said. “I knew you’d be back, but I honestly expected you to use the door.”
Zhimosom tried to invoke the spell that would take him back to the copse, but a blanket of fatigue fell over him. He tried to reach out to Rotiaqua to warn her, but there was nothing, only silence.
23
Uskin woke from a troubled sleep. Her room in the Wizards’ Keep was cold, but she was wet with sweat. It was just after dawn and the sun barely lit the room. She reached for her robe and pulled it on, comforted by the lush fur collar and heavy lining.
“What is it?” Alwroth asked. He blinked sleep from his eyes and sat up beside her.
“A bonding ... remember that little girl and the dragon I saw so many summers ago?”
Alwroth wrinkled his brows in thought. “The one in your vision?”
“Yes, her.” Uskin stretched her hands out, palms up. A small fire erupted in her hands, growing larger, until a golden glow covered them.
The light swirled and rose, taking on the form of a dragon. Its wings shimmered as if spun from the finest gold. The dragon circled her palm, then looked down and breathed fire into Uskin’s hands.
The fire formed a woman and a man.
It was the girl she’d seen in her vision so many summers ago but older. She was a woman now.
The woman took the man’s palm and sliced it with her knife before joining their hands together. A brilliant light surrounded them growing in intensity until Uskin blinked at its brilliance. There hovering above the couple, a dragon reached out with a claw and slashed its chest right above its heart.
Golden blood poured out of that wound and onto the couple standing below.
The two humans took on a reddish tint as the blood of the dragon flowed over them.
The dragon grew insubstantial, shrunk to become a stunted human barely reaching the man’s chest.
“What does it mean?” Alwroth shuffled up close and put his arm around her shoulder. He leaned in to get a better look at the figures.
“This is not good. We need to send someone to find them.”
“The dragon? What happened to it?”
“I don’t understand what the dragon means. They are mixed up in this, but it is those two. This is not what we expected. We feared it would be Sulrad and Rotiaqua who bonded, but this new wizard. He’s even stronger than Sulrad. I feel it. These are the two destined to take our place, yet, they are not. There is risk. Great risk. In many of the paths I see, Amedon is left without a pair to rule. There is so much I don’t understand. We must find these two. Bring them here. Test them. Protect them.” She blew on her hands. The image turned to a cloud of bright sparkles and disappeared.
“From what?” Alwroth asked.
“I don’t know. But there is great danger. Even now I feel it.”
Alwroth leaned in and kissed her gently. “You know best. How do we find them?”
“I’m thinking Garlath. He knows the area already. He can handle this, and he could use a little time away from Amedon. What do you think?”
“You’re not thinking of sending him to Frostan, are you?”
“No. That is not where I see them. They will leave soon. We need to send Garlath somewhere they will be, not where they are. I’ll search my visions and see if there’s a place they’re sure to go.” Uskin stood up and extended her arm in invitation. “Let’s summon Garlath and give him the news, shall we?”
Alwroth rose and took her arm. He escorted her to their private sitting room and rang the bell for the attendant.
“Go find Garlath and invite him here to break his fast,” Uskin said.
“Yes, Your Mightiness.” The attendant turned and left the room.
They had barely settled in when Garlath arrived. He wore the traditional robes of a senior wizard. He was a middle-aged man with close-cropped gray hair and beard. For one so young, it was rare, but the council had offered him a seat on several occasions. He had refused, claiming it would only tie him to Amedon. He was one of the few who held himself completely above the politics of the wizards.
The wizard in question threw himself into a guest chair and scanned the room. When he noticed a cup of tea already waiting for him, he picked it up and drank from it, then set it back on the table, all without a word of greeting.
“We have a quest for you.” Uskin had donned her sorceress crown with its glowing red jewels and intricate braid of multicolored rope.
“A quest?”
“One that will take you away from Amedon for a while. One of great importance.”
Garlath smiled.
She knew that he was eager for any chance to get away from Amedon. He’d always told her that life amongst the wizards was dull and boring, without the surprises of the mundane world.
“You have that look of mischief in your eyes,” Garlath said. “This must be especially difficult.”
“I sensed a pair form just this morning.” Uskin raised her upturned palms and gently blew on them. The image of the woman and man from her earlier vision reappeared, but this time, they were static and lifeless.
“Why don’t you go after them yourself?” Garlath asked.
“They are currently in Frostan, but that is not all. These two are special,” she said. “Not only are they perfectly paired, they are somehow bound up with the dragons.”
“Dragons?”
“Yes. That’s why I thought of you. Would you take on this quest? I don’t know when they will decide to come to Amedon.” She waved her hand in the air. “I don’t even know that they will decide to come to Amedon, but we need someone like you out there to guide them when they do.”
She paused and sipped her own tea. “They must be tested and trained before they show up here. I fear it will be a long and difficult quest, not soon over.”
Garlath smiled broadly at her last words. “I’ll do it.”
“Where will you start?”
“In Tustow. There is an old wizard there. It’s not far from Frostan and they are sure to pass that way sooner or later. This wizard. He no longer associates with Amedon. He’s ancient and feeble, but he’s still powerful. He is an expert in dragons. If they are somehow mixed up with dragons, they will be drawn to him. I can wait for them there.”
Uskin saw that Garlath was already off in the mundane world and bar
ely paying attention to her. “Garlath,” she said softly.
“Hmmm... Oh, sorry, I was just thinking. I can set myself up as an apothecary and sell potions and herbs in the market. That will give me a chance to mingle and watch for them.”
“Garlath.” Uskin tried again to get his attention. “This is important. These two are already very powerful, and with the dragon’s blood on them, they will be so powerful that they could easily destroy the city by accident just experimenting with their powers. It’s important that you find them and test them. If they pass, you must train them before you bring them here. I don’t need to remind you how important that is.”
“No, you don’t.” Garlath glanced over at the wall that had been hastily repaired after an inexperienced young wizard blasted it out by mistake summers earlier. Uskin and Alwroth left it that way as a constant reminder to themselves and their guests that young, untrained wizards were dangerous.
24
Rotiaqua let the memories flood through her as she made her way home from the copse where she had met Zhimosom. It had been so long since that first day she saw him in the fire. He had grown from a timid boy into a confident and strong man, yet he treated her as if she were some precious, breakable artifact that one must never handle. It had always bothered her, but now that she knew his history, it made sense. She would have to try harder to make him feel at ease around her.
She arrived at the castle just in time for the midday meal. Her father was already seated beside her aunt when she arrived. The meal had just begun, when a guard interrupted.
“Sorry, My Lord, but there’s someone here to see you. He’s insistent that you be told that he is waiting, and that you would be receptive.”
“Who is it?” the baron growled at the guard.
“It’s the priest. Sulrad. He says it’s in regard to your daughter.”
Rotiaqua tensed up at the mention of Sulrad. She looked at her father, who scowled back at her.
Lerkela leaned over to the baron. “It’s not often I break my fast with you. Do you have to see that man now?”
The baron glanced at Rotiaqua. “Know anything about this?”
The Sorceress: An Epic Fantasy Saga (Origins Book 3) Page 16
