by T D Raufson
Nethliast struck Valdiest’s head with both of his forelegs in a powerful downward strike that drove his head and chin into the cave floor.
“You will control yourself, Valdiest, or I will destroy you here. You are only alive because I need you. When I tire of you, I will kill you for your treason.” As Nethliast withdrew his forelegs and released him, Valdiest could smell the burnt aroma of the witch’s perfume that still wafted off Nethliast’s scales.
Nethliast stepped back out of the cave but waited to transform completely until the witch had cast another spell, probably resetting the barrier.
“Kill me then. You’ve already made up your mind about my loyalty, but let me clear up any doubt, Nickliad.” The change of name was noticed. “I will not follow you when it includes using hatchlings as tools to control their parents. I will never support your alliance with half-bloods and certainly not this unnatural partnership you have with this rotting carrion.”
He exhaled and laid himself before the male he had once considered his son, the future king to replace him and stand with his daughter. He had been so proud of Nickliad’s desires to help restore the kingdom to the way it had been.
“Nickliad,” Valdiest said quietly without raising his head from the floor or even opening his eyes. “Meliastrid will defeat you. She has already defeated you. She has the power of the Great Wyrm on her side. You will never stand against that.” This knowledge had come from his painful retreat. Valdiest knew it now like he knew his own name. He knew that Nickliad would never have her as a mate because she served a higher purpose and commanded a purer power than Nickliad could ever hope to know. Valdiest smiled as he thought of the day when the child standing before him would bow to her.
“The what?” Nickliad walked to the edge of the barrier. “What are you going on about? What is the Great Wyrm?”
“Search your memories, child. Realize the truth like I have in the last few hours and end this path before it devours you and every dragon who follows you. I don’t want to see you destroyed, but I’m afraid you’re already on your way there. When she realizes what she is, and she may already know, she’ll come for you with all of her rightful power and with her slightest wish you will cease to exist. You are truly confused and need to stop before you destroy us all.” Valdiest now understood Kaliastrid’s deference to Meliastrid. He had learned so much as he had taken his beating from the witch. There was hope for dragons in Meliastrid.
That ancient curse of pride and greed that dragons had overcome ages before, when they had come to understand their magical ability, had returned in Nickliad when he had emerged. Why else would he pick that name instead of his hatching name? Valdiest could not suppress the incredulous laugh at Nickliad thinking he had even a portion of the majesty of that ancient gold dragon. That arrogance was even more of a sign that Nethliast was lost to his own pride.
Nickliad struck the barrier and roared at him but couldn’t reach him through it.
“Don’t play with me, old wyrm. I’m going to repay the humans and return them to where they belong on this world without you, and Meliastrid can’t stop me. She is too far away and lost in her care for the weaker race to stop me, but your words may give me what I need to complete my plans. There is something to your rambling, isn’t there? She is missing something she needs to exercise her powers. I’m here where dragons were the most powerful race for ages. I’ll find her secret and rule the dragons.”
Valdiest laughed at the young dragon to cover his mistake. He might be able to find what Valdiest now understood gave her the power to control dragons. He didn’t know where it was, and he didn’t think any other dragons did, but there was a chance the arrogant hatchling could stumble on it. Valdiest had only just realized what it was when Nickliad had called him out of his memories.
“Even you see it, don’t you?” Nickliad asked. “I’ve won with the diligence I’ve put in. I have proven myself the true dragon king. They will bow to me and I will rule the humans.”
Valdiest laughed again at the mania that filled his speech. “Take your whore-queen then and go. I’m tired of this and you. I have nothing more for the spoiled Crown Prince of Dragons, Nicklaus,” Valdiest chose his human name to deepen the insult, “who doesn’t know his name. I have no more patience for you and this strumpet you stink of. Her stench dilutes your strength, great child king Nicklaus.” He taunted him now to force his hand. He had fallen deeper into the control of humans than Melissa ever had. Valdiest understood her love of them now. He could see it was her oath to protect them, not some unnatural bond like the one forming between Nicklaus and the witch.
Nicklaus roared again, and Valdiest heard him walking away. At the end of the hall, he heard the last orders he left the witch and cringed.
“Punish him how you see fit, but do not kill him. I need him alive. I need to know what he knows. Once I have destroyed Meliastrid and have Kaliastrid in my control, he will tell me where the root of her power lies. When you’re done, meet me at the farm. Do not kill him.”
He left after that and the witch’s somewhat weakened and singed aroma returned to the barrier. Valdiest retreated into his mind again to wander among his broken memories in the peaceful pain of the search. Maybe he would learn something that might help before it was too late. Perhaps he could find the Talisman of the Great Wyrm.
Chapter 8 – Ambassador of the Dragons
July 23 – 1447 EDT – Signal Mountain, Tennessee
“This book was written by your grandmother!”
Elaine had extracted herself from the 15th century book she had found in a chest along with the corset and peasant blouse she was wearing. She had just looked up for the first time in hours and realized someone else, other than Charles, was in the room.
“All this time I thought it was a different author with a similar style but it’s not. The writing style is exact, even though the language is a little different. But, how is that possible? She wasn’t born then. How could she write this?”
“It seems that we may have lived many lives to reach this point in time. She would have been a different person then.”
See, you can contribute.
Melissa grinned at the voice that was becoming more a part of her.
“Our line was carefully preserved. How does that book help us though? Does it shed any light on the spell? Why I cast it? Where the talisman is? Anything?”
Elaine withered a little under the questioning, and Melissa realized again that she did not have Charles’ way with showing her appreciation for the efforts even when she wanted more results. Elaine would talk for hours about something with Charles, and he would just listen. Afterward he would still leave the room less aware of how Elaine felt than when he entered, but that was an entirely different frustration.
“I’m sorry, Elaine. Go on. You’re the only one of us able to make any sense of this.”
She looked up from her tablet where she was making notes either on the book or how Melissa had exploded again to continue her revelation.
“So far I haven’t found anything about the reason the spell was cast. I’m not sure anyone ever wrote that down. Maybe, since it seems she wrote something in this previous incarnation, she wrote stories further back. Maybe she wrote about the spell somewhere else. Are there any books older than these?”
“You and Charles have found more in a few days in this house than I knew existed.” Melissa stared out at the small grave where they had buried Helena and let the useless response trail away.
“Still no response from anyone at The State Department?”
“No,” Melissa answered without hearing the question.
Elaine turned her attention back to the pages.
Am I doing the right thing? Is this what you wanted from me?
Not for the first time, Melissa wished Helena had not died. She wished her mentor from two worlds was sitting at her desk waiting for Melissa to give up on the new puzzle she had given her to ask for help. But she wasn’t. She was gone. She
had known how important this was. She was the one who understood what had happened and why. She was the ambassador.
Melissa clutched the small claw beneath her blouse as if it could tell her what to do. She knew there was something special about it. She had already used its power once, but not intentionally. The gem encrusted claw, as always, felt warm in her hand. She took it out and held it up to the afternoon sun. Before her eyes it seemed as if each individual sun beam danced and flickered through the gems, creating red flares on the ceiling. Melissa followed the shimmering dots as they ran across the old mural of two ancient dragons and the giant mountain castle their tails enclosed.
She had always loved that mural. It seemed so much like a home she would like to live in. The castle had tall towers with pointed circular roofs that sprouted from both the main keep and all of the walls. There was no road to it up the side of what appeared to be a snow-covered mountain. She always wondered how the people got to the castle. As a child she had been convinced that it had to be an artist’s mistake.
Not if you fly there.
Melissa nodded.
The female dragon’s tail wrapped to the right side of the castle and crossed over the curtain wall behind the forward wall tower. The sharp point of her tail pointed into what looked like the mosaic pentagram in the cave below them. In the center of the courtyard and at the heart of the pentagram was a gem-encrusted egg sitting on two legs and a tail that broke through the gem covered shell.
Elaine’s face suddenly appeared over her head looking at the claw with odd interest. Melissa jumped at how close she was.
“I’m sorry. Did I surprise you?”
Melissa grinned but didn’t answer as she tried to marshal her heartbeat.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a pendant my grandmother always wore. Well, it’s more than that really, but I’m not sure how much more.”
“May I see it?”
Melissa mindlessly removed the chain from her neck and handed it over to her. Elaine took the chain and held it up to the light. With her forefinger, still covered in a cotton glove, she touched it to turn it in the light. A sizzling sound drew Melissa’s attention. Elaine’s hands never moved. She still stood with her finger pointed as if to stroke the pendant but the very end of the glove on her finger was charred and the pendant had landed in Melissa’s lap.
“Ouch,” she cried and shook her hand while staring at the amulet resting in Melissa’s lap. “It burned me. I can’t touch it.”
“It never burned me.” Melissa thought about the heat that pulsed through her arm after it had thrown Nethliast off her. She lifted it by the chain and replaced it around her neck. Elaine turned briskly while removing and discarding the now useless glove. In her excitement she attacked the delicate pages of the book with less care than she had been using before. When she found the spot she was looking for, she jabbed the page with her middle finger and ran down the page guiding her eyes quickly through the text. Melissa thought about asking her what she was looking for, but found she didn’t really care. Instead, she sat back in the chair and stared, again, at the view of the valley.
This was taking too long. Nethliast could have an army prepared to attack by now. Her father was missing so they were not getting any information, even the passive kind he was providing to Kaliastrid. The silence from both sides was painful. Neither dragons nor humans were talking to her. Charles had added guards since the encounter with the helicopter, in case the paperwork drew some attention, but not even her enemies seemed to be looking for her.
Charles walked quietly up the spiral staircase and paused behind Elaine while calculating the best way to pass between her and the window without contact. Melissa paused to watch the often repeated dance which had started to fascinate her. Convinced he had room he began to gingerly make his way through the pass when inevitable she would shift just enough to force him to touch her.
Charles mumbled, “Excuse me,” and squeezed out of the contact as if touching her burned him. His face was red, and he was mentally castigating himself when he reached the chair on the other side and sat down. As he passed Melissa, she could see Elaine’s blush and swore she was giggling. Just to be fair to Charles, Melissa considered telling her ill-equipped close friend that the young woman was playing with him, but decided it was too fun to watch their sad dance. Once Charles was seated, Elaine returned her attention to the book, where she quickly found what she had been searching for.
“It may be. It just may be,” Elaine mumbled aloud.
“What’s she on about?” he asked.
“This.” She pulled the pendant out again to show him.
Charles ducked a little in his seat and put his hands out as if to ward off an attack. “Watch that thing. I saw what it did to Nicklaus, and I don’t see a safety.”
“What did it do?” Elaine asked without looking away from the text.
“He was attacking Melissa the night of the emergence. She pointed it at him, and it threw him across the yard. I don’t know how he wasn’t crippled when he bounced off the wall and smacked the ground.”
“He was partly overcome by his dragon side…” Her defense tailed off as Elaine pursued her idea.
“Did it act on its own or did she…you command it?”
Charles didn’t answer. Melissa thought about it and answered, “It acted on its own.”
“Then it is.” Elaine turned around and sat down on the table. She crossed her legs and pulled the old book into her lap.
“It is what?” Melissa asked.
“This.” She pointed at a page that she had been reading. Melissa didn’t move to read the text; she didn’t feel like fighting off the pain.
“I think it’s what this story calls the Scepter of The Great Wyrm. It’s the symbol of your power, or at least half of it, the half you can never lose. It was passed to you on the death of the old ambassador according to this text. It should be impossible for anyone else to possess it without your specific instructions while you live, and it should protect you from attack.”
Melissa looked down at the small claw and jewels. It seemed to fit. “So what’s the other half and how does it help us?”
“I don’t know. This text only talks about the scepter.”
Melissa shook her head and looked back out at the small grave. Something Elaine said struggled with pain in the back of her head, and she chose not to ask her more about the Great Wyrm, at the moment. Since her inner dragon chose not to share anything with her either, she knew that quest would probably hurt a lot. She allowed a little complacency to sweep the thought away and thought about her grandmother.
“I miss her. She left me with this, and I need her guidance. I’m not ready for any this.” She looked over at Charles, smacked the arm of his chair and continued. “What do I do if we ever find someone that will listen to us? None of the dragons I should have standing beside me are here, and the humans seem oblivious to what’s going on around them.”
“You’ll do what you have to, just like you have from the beginning,” Charles answered. He had pulled a random book from the stack and leafed through the pages as if it might answer her question.
She shook her head, unconvinced.
At the moment she wanted to continue feeling sorry for herself, but her mother came up the stairs with a frown on her face forcing her to put away her self-pity. Kaliastrid paused behind Elaine and pulled the unruly hair that was falling around the young girl’s face back, wrapped it in a quick elegant knot that caused her hair to cradle her face in sweeping wings but forced the rest down her back and out of the way. She secured it all with an ancient pin. Satisfied with her work and rewarded with a smile over the shoulder from Elaine, Kaliastrid turned to look at Melissa.
Melissa tilted her head at her, and she could feel her own eyes grow wider as she pulled her head back at an angle. Kaliastrid shrugged the unspoken question away and leaned against the table beside Elaine.
“Nethliast is here.”
Melissa stood up and looked around the library suddenly concerned that he might learn something he didn’t need to know.
“Sorry, not here,” Kaliastrid added and Melissa sat back down, “but he is in town. Gerliast is trying to keep me informed about his movements and plans, but he is basically a prisoner of the new king.”
“How is father?”
“Still no word. I’ve not heard from him since last week. Gerliast has not seen him, and he doesn’t dare ask about him. Your father was not convinced that forcing Nethliast to recognize him as king was the right move. He said he still needed to check something out. He wanted to give him a chance to defend against my theory about the half breeds. I’m sure Nethliast is recruiting them to fight the humans. He used them to collect the hatchlings and the females to maintain control of the dragons. He has to be promising them something to keep them in line. I know that’s why they have settled down and disappeared. We have to tell someone about it. They have to be prepared. There’s no question Nethliast’s going to attack. If Valdiest could just let me know what he had found, I would know what steps to take.”
Melissa grabbed the pendant to ignore the knot in her stomach. Fire raced up her arm, and the room around her vanished into a dark silent cave. Initially she sensed more than saw the form on the floor, but her vision adjusted and she could make out the what looked like her father. She reeled in her mind away from the image of broken wings, battered scales and chains holding him to the cold stone. She found her eyes were closed and opened them to see both Kaliastrid and Elaine looking at her.