Kalvin had an intense curiosity about everything and enjoyed reading almost as much as Lynol did. She was glad to see Kalvin. She really needed someone to talk to that was her own age. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours; she was still finding it hard to adjust to it all. The ramifications of her newfound knowledge and heritage were almost overwhelming.
“I tell you, Damon, the dragon is awakening!” Aldin was saying with concern in his normally jovial voice. “The mountain rumbles louder every day; no one remembers such anger coming from Firestorm Mountain in generations. If Gilmreth does sleep deep within, surely the dragon must be disturbed from his rest.”
“There are not many that still believe those old stories, Aldin, my friend,” Damon replied somberly, glancing toward the mountain. “Our family has always known that Gilmreth still slumbers in his lair beneath Firestorm Mountain. You have heard me tell the story of the sorcerer Malcon Sylvar and how he sacrificed his life to put the great dragon to sleep.”
“Why couldn’t Malcon destroy the dragon?” Kalvin asked, his curiosity aroused. He could sit for hours listening to Aldin or Damon telling stories about Gilmreth and the magical days of the great sorcerers. The rumbling from the mountain had Kalvin’s father extremely worried. He knew they would all be in considerable danger if it were indeed Gilmreth causing the mountain to rumble. “He was supposed to be the most powerful sorcerer since the Worldfire.”
“Malcon couldn’t,” replied Damon, shaking his head and looking at the boy. He realized that with each passing day Kalvin was becoming a young man. “Malcon’s power in sorcery was great, but Gilmreth was created from a much stronger and more ancient power. The dragon came from the days just before the Worldfire when the legendary Golden Age of sorcery was at its highest. The greatest sorcerers from that almost mystical time merged their powers to create the dragons. Gilmreth was the ultimate creation of that time of powerful, uncontrolled sorcery.”
“Is there nothing that can destroy Gilmreth?” Kalvin persisted, worried that if the dragon awoke nothing could stand in its way and it might easily kill them all. Their homes were also the closest to the mountain.
”There was an amulet created in the last days, just before the Worldfire, that might,” replied Damon rubbing his chin with his right hand hesitantly remembering the ancient legends. This was something that he hadn’t even mentioned to Lynol. He had almost forgotten about it. “Malcon searched for many years, in far away lands, looking and tracking down rumors of this powerful amulet. Finally, he gave up the search believing the magical amulet destroyed in the Worldfire.”
“What is this amulet?” Aldin asked curiously. This was something he had never heard of.
“It was created in the final hectic days just before the Worldfire. Supposedly possession of this powerful amulet caused a fight amongst the ancient sorcerers commencing the destruction of the Golden Age,” Damon replied somberly, remembering what his father had told him about the Stone of Loraine.
“A magical amulet,” Kalvin repeated, highly interested. “What did it look like?”
“The amulet is a large, flawless ruby, fiery red in color,” Damon replied. “The sorcerers of that time used their combined powers on the stone to create a tremendous amplifier for their abilities. When they realized what they had created, and the power it possessed, they fell to fighting amongst themselves for control. The ruby, which they called the Stone of Loraine, vanished during the Worldfire.”
Everyone was quiet for a moment. Looking up, Kalvin saw Lynol standing quietly on the porch, watching him, looking radiant in the early afternoon sunlight with a teasing twinkle in her eyes. Smiling, he left the two adults, bounding up the steps and stopping next to Lynol.
-
“Hi!” he said brightly. “I haven’t seen you for days. Dresdia wants you to come over to visit. WhiteStar had her foal!”
“I bet she’s really excited,” replied Lynol, looking at Kalvin appraisingly. His thick, wavy black hair and brown eyes offset a handsome face. The heavy farm work that Kalvin performed daily had given him a dark tan and strong, sinewy muscles. Lynol doubted there was an ounce of fat on his lean body.
Lynol smiled, imagining Dresdia’s excitement at the new baby colt. Dresdia and she were best friends. Their two farms were the only two this far out toward Firestorm Mountain, and the two families had been close for a number of years. Kalvin was a year older than she was, and she and Dresdia were almost the same age, with Lynol being just a few months older. A new colt was a rare enough occurrence to justify a visit. Besides, it might do her some good to spend some time with her friends and allow her to get things straight in her head.
“We were talking about the mountain. It’s been making more noise than I can ever remember,” said Kalvin, trying to impress Lynol. “Just the rumbling is enough to keep you awake at night.” Kalvin paused, trying not to stare too obviously at Lynol.
In the past year, Lynol had really started to mature. She was no longer the flat chested young girl who used to come over and cavort with him and his sister. Yes, she was definitely looking more like an attractive young woman. Sometimes the physical changes made Kalvin feel acutely uncomfortable and self-conscious; everything used to be so simple when they were children.
“I heard,” Lynol replied, noncommittally.
“My father thinks it might be Gilmreth stirring in the mountain.” Kalvin continued, his eyes on Lynol. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know, Kalvin,” Lynol responded, not wanting to talk about the dragon. However, listening to her father talk to Aldin had raised even more questions. What was this Stone of Loraine he had mentioned? She had never heard of it before. She would have to remember to ask him about it later.
Silence fell and neither said anything for a few moments. Finally, Kalvin looked at Lynol. “I wonder what Gilmreth looks like?”
“Like a dragon,” Lynol replied, exasperated, shaking her head at Kalvin, and wishing he would change the subject. “Gilmreth is something huge, hideous, and extremely dangerous!”
“I suppose,” Kalvin replied slowly, trying to picture the dragon in his mind.
Lynol had noticed that Kalvin had been treating her differently these past few months. He seemed extremely nervous and agitated anytime they accidentally bumped into each other. She knew she and Dresdia were maturing and filling out rapidly, and their clothes scarcely fit from month to month anymore. Lynol suspected this transformation was making Kalvin nervous, not knowing how to handle this sudden growing maturity or how to treat her. Sometimes she wasn’t sure how to handle it either. Now all this sorcery stuff had made it even more complicated.
“There’s an apple pie inside if you’re interested,” she said teasingly, knowing Kalvin wouldn’t be able to resist the offer. Moreover, it would get the conversation off Gilmreth. It made her feel warm inside knowing how much Kalvin enjoyed her cooking.
“Really?” he replied, his face brightening, running his tongue over his lips and imagining he could taste the pie.
Lynol was an excellent cook; her baking was almost worth dying for at times! In addition, it would allow them to spend a little bit of time alone together. Maybe he could talk her into coming over to see the new colt.
“Come on,” she said, taking his hand and leading the way inside. Her father and Aldin were still deeply engrossed in conversation, gesturing occasionally toward the mountain. They, on the other hand, could at least go inside where it was cooler.
After getting Kalvin to sit at the table, Lynol opened the cold box in one of the back rooms they used as a pantry and took out the cold apple pie. Cutting a generous slice, she placed it on a plate.
The cold box was one of several strange mysteries inside the large house. Food inside was kept cold and could stay fresh for days, even when the temperature outside was scorching. Lynol suspected the cold box was the result of sorcery from ages past. It had always been in the house and was a family enigma. Lynol had always taken it for granted, but n
ow she wondered if sorcery was indeed what kept the food inside cold. Perhaps she should ask her father about it; with what he had revealed the night before, maybe he knew who had made the cold box or even how it worked.
Lynol walked back into the kitchen, the plate containing the slice of apple pie balanced in one hand, two glasses of fresh, cold milk in the other. She saw Kalvin’s eyes light up upon seeing her return. For some reason, this made her feel strange and tingly inside. With a smile, she set the pie and one of the glasses of milk down in front of him, and then sat down across the table watching as Kalvin tasted the first, tantalizing bite.
“This is great!” he exclaimed, closing his eyes and savoring the taste, not wanting it to go away. He couldn’t decide what he liked best. The surprise when Lynol had grabbed his hand and led him to the table, her hand had felt so warm, soft, and delicate; or the pie as he slowly swallowed the first savory bites. “One of these days you have to show me how you get these so cold.” For the time being, he decided, the pie would win, but just barely. He took a deep drink of the milk, enjoying the coldness as he swallowed, a stray white drop appearing on the side of his mouth.
Nodding with a pleased smile, Lynol watched delightedly as Kalvin quickly finished off the rest of the pie on his plate. “Tell Dresdia I will be over tomorrow. I’d love to see the new foal. I bet she’s excited! Also, the wild berries are ripe down in the west meadow. Dresdia and I plan on gathering them to make jelly.”
“I can help if you want,” stammered Kalvin, flushing from Lynol’s close proximity.
Why did he feel so unsure of himself around her? Sometimes he felt like he was making a fool of himself whenever they were together. He could kick himself at his nervousness. For Gods sake, this was Lynol! They had known and played with each other for years, ever since they were small children. Why did he have to stammer so much around her recently? He didn’t use to have that problem.
“If you have nothing else to do, sure, we can always use someone else to help carry the berries. The berry bushes are heavily laden this year, more than I can ever remember. Dresdia and I can probably make up some extra jelly to trade in Galvin.”
They sat around and talked for quite awhile about Dresdia, the new foal, and things that were going on in Galvin. Lynol was feeling very relaxed and glad that Kalvin was there. He was so easy to talk to, and he was a very good listener. However, she couldn’t actually tell him what was worrying her; some things would have to remain a secret. Nevertheless, just the idle talk was doing her some good.
The door opening interrupted them as Kalvin’s father stuck his head in. “Sorry to interrupt, kids, but it’s time to go. We still have a lot of work to do this afternoon, Kalvin.”
Standing up, Kalvin nodded politely, saying goodbye to Lynol. “The pie was great Lynol. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He wished he could stay longer, but his father was right. They still had a lot of work they needed to finish. They had been returning from Galvin where they had picked up a few supplies and had only stopped by to say hello.
Lynol swallowed her disappointment; she wished he could have stayed longer; Kalvin was so sweet. She suspected he had a crush on her. Just being able to talk to him had made her feel so much more at ease with everything. She wasn’t sure yet how she was going to deal with Kalvin; maybe she could talk to Dresdia about it tomorrow.
Neither she nor Dresdia had much experience with boys. The memory of his delight over the apple pie continued to make her feel content as she lingered over her glass of cold milk, savoring the taste of it. Kalvin had a way of making her feel so relaxed and tingly inside. She wondered idly what her own true feelings were about Kalvin. She had never seriously looked at him in this manner before, and the thought surprised her.
-
In Draydon, Jalene left the archives clutching several ancient books and a half-withered scroll. She had found them crammed back behind the other books on a top shelf hidden from sight. Both of the books mentioned the Sylvars and the long history of sorcery associated with the family. The scroll, however, was her prize. It contained a detailed description of Gilmreth and a brief history of the dragon dating back hundreds of years before Malcon Sylvar put Gilmreth to sleep.
Upon leaving the archives, she ordered the two old curators to meticulously dust and scrub the hidden room, then forget its existence as well as her clandestine visit. Someday she might need more information from its ancient shelves. She also didn’t want to risk anyone else stumbling upon the dangerous information it contained. In the wrong hands, it could possibly be used against her.
Walking down the narrow stone street back toward the inn, Jalene noticed that many inhabitants of the nearby shops looked at her with distaste. If not for the need to conserve her power, she would have made them regret their insulting looks.
Jalene knew that she really needed to spend some time recuperating from all the spells she had been casting recently. Her body looked haggard and drawn from all the energy invoking the spells drew from her. Maybe it would be a good idea to spend some time resting and building up her strength. She had been neglecting herself for far too long; there were too many nights she went to asleep exhausted. She knew she had time to complete her plans; there was no point in rushing. Many of the people who looked at her so distastefully now would in the future rue the day they had ever laid eyes upon her.
There were few people out on the streets and only an occasional traveler making their way into the many shops. Draydon was the trading center for much of the surrounding area, but in recent years as the population had steadily dwindled, so had Draydon’s trade. Jalene knew the local population was far less than what it had been in Gilmreth’s time. It was rumored that, on the far side of the mountain, it was even worse.
She hadn’t paid much attention to the shops that morning when she had gone to the archives and she noticed, with some surprise, several of the shops along the street were closed and boarded up. She had spent most of her time the previous day in the town’s crowded main market square searching for the ingredients she needed for her spells.
Jalene realized that when she succeeded in waking Gilmreth, she might be hard pressed to find him the type of sustenance he was used to feeding upon in the past. There wouldn’t be as great an abundance of virgins as there was in Gilmreth’s earlier, more populace times.
From her travels, she knew the declining population was true everywhere. Many villages in some regions lay abandoned and whole regions were entirely depopulated. The encroaching deserts had forced people to move toward the few isolated pockets of green still hugging the mountains. Due to the steadily decreasing population, the mountain areas hadn’t felt the pressure of overcrowding.
Arriving at the small inn, she went upstairs and deposited her books and the scroll on the bed. Returning downstairs, she went to see what kind of food the small inn had to offer. Settling down at a table, Jalene waited impatiently as a young woman came over.
The smell of baking bread hung tantalizingly in the air, making Jalene realize just how hungry she was. Her stomach ached for want of food. The young woman put down a glass of fresh water and placed a handwritten menu on the table. Glancing curiously at the food available, Jalene placed her order and waited impatiently while slowly sipping the water and looking around at the other occupants of the inn.
From what she had noticed the night before and this morning, the inn was nearly empty. The clerk had been especially helpful when she had paid for her room in advance with a gold coin. The sudden greedy gleam in the clerk’s eyes bore mute testimony to how seldom he saw such rare coins.
Two bearded men, dressed in rough mountain clothes, stood at the small bar taking long drinks from their glasses, swirling the amber colored liquid around and laughing at some private joke. One of the men, the shorter of the two with a raggedly cropped beard, looked up and saw Jalene sitting by herself. After elbowing his friend, he staggered unsteadily in her direction, nearly bumping into another table.
“Hello,” h
e stammered gruffly in a drunken, partially slurred voice, staring down at Jalene. “What is a fine woman like you doing sitting alone? Would you like some company? My friend and I have just returned from Firestorm Mountain on a trapping trip, and we have money to spend if you know what I mean,” he ended with a leer, the foul odor of alcohol tainting his breath. However, the answer he hoped for was not forthcoming.
Jalene angrily reached her hand up to her neck and pulled out the small amulet that hung from a silver chain just above her breasts. The small red stone, set in silver, blazed with a sudden, furious red light as she clasped it in her right hand and concentrated briefly. Jalene’s anger and loathing burst forth like a searing hot flame. A red beam of light flashed from the stone, throwing the man backward, causing him to crash into a nearby table and fall noisily to the floor amongst the smashed ruins. The server girl screamed and ran frightened into the kitchen, disappearing from sight.
The man shakily stood back up, looking at Jalene with fear and confusion on his rough face. His drunkenness rapidly disappeared as he realized his predicament. He stood upon wobbly legs, unsure of what had transpired or what he should do. He couldn’t remember the woman striking him, but how else could she have knocked him down?
Jalene stood, pushing her chair back, gathering her anger. She slowly approached the man, glaring at him contemptuously. With a measured, calculated look, she paused, thinking. She needed several strong men to complete the next part of her plan. “You mentioned going to Firestorm Mountain trapping; is that the truth, or just your mouth running?” she demanded, her eyes blazing coal black, and her amulet clenched tightly in her hand. With the power of her amulet, she could end this man’s life as easily as making a fist.
Gilmreth the Awakening Page 9