There was a small entranceway then a narrow passage leading to the main part of the temple. It had been a long time since Ty had come here. The last time had been when his brother still served this particular temple, but he had little reason to doubt that Albion would be here. It was worth checking his old room as well. The temple wasn’t so densely occupied that his brother’s room would’ve been claimed by someone else.
A staircase led off to his left, and Ty took it until he got to the third level, then made his way along until he reached what had once been his brother’s door.
He had his hand raised to knock when the door opened.
Albion stood across from him, dressed in the distinctive priest robes. The corners of his eyes wrinkled slightly. “Tydornen?” he asked, frowning at him.
He smiled at his brother, though it was a forced gesture. “I heard you were in the city. I thought I’d stop by to visit.”
Albion’s mouth pressed together in another tight frown. “How did you hear that?”
Ty shifted his stance for a moment. He hated lying to his older brother. Not because he was a priest, as Ty didn’t really care much about the priests, but because it was his brother. He was the only family that Ty had left, even though Albion had abandoned him for the priesthood.
“I might’ve seen you working with the archaeologists,” Ty said.
“That wasn’t you, was it?”
Ty held Albion’s gaze, saying nothing.
“It was. By the Flame, Ty, you should know better than to upset the king,” Albion said.
“Are you more concerned about me upsetting the king or the priesthood?”
“Seeing as how I know you don’t care about the priesthood, I think you should respect the king.”
“The expedition has already departed.” Ty was curious what reaction he would get out of his brother, and whether he would even acknowledge what he knew about the expedition.
Albion watched him for a moment. “They were never going to stay long.”
“What did they find?”
Albion flicked his gaze upward briefly. “Sacred remnants. Perhaps more, though I am not privy to that.”
Ty considered his next question. What came from him was not what he anticipated. “And why are you here?”
“I serve the High Priest, and I travel where he travels.”
“And where will that be?”
Albion regarded him. “For now, it keeps me here.”
Ty was suddenly aware that they were standing in the hall having this conversation. He forced another smile. “At least let me come in.”
“You can come in. You can visit. But I really don’t have much time today.”
Albion stepped aside and let him enter.
Ty had wondered if he would even be willing to do so. He didn’t know his older brother the way he once had, and it had been a long time since he could claim he knew him well. They were quite different. Albion had left home when he was young, joining the priesthood at sixteen, and had risen through the ranks quickly. He had been gone a few years when their parents had disappeared, and he hadn’t seemed nearly as impacted by it as Ty had.
Maybe it was because Ty had been younger when they’d gone. Maybe it was because he had been on his own and he had to figure out how he was going to survive. Or maybe it was simply that he was closer to his parents than Albion had ever been.
Whatever it was, the two of them had a strained relationship. Ty had always wanted a bit more from Albion, but his serving the priesthood had made it difficult. He was far busier than Ty, and though Ty tried to conceal from Albion the kind of work he engaged in, he had long suspected Albion knew exactly what it was that he did.
The inside of Albion’s room was sparsely decorated, the walls the same black stone as the rest of the tower. The air had a strange spice smell to it, and Ty noticed a lamp resting on a table, burning the oil that the priests preferred. A hint of smoke trailed up from it, giving the room its scent. A table with a chair occupied one side of the room and a narrow cot occupied the other. He had a lantern sitting on the other table as well, illuminating a massive book splayed atop it, the Tome of the Flame.
Ty glanced at the book, even flipping through the pages. His father had always kept the Tome of the Flame in their home, and he recognized certain passages. Their father had been devout, much like Albion. Ty and his mother, though…
He looked over to his brother. “You don’t have much here,” he said.
“I have few needs. The Flame provides.”
“If the Flame provided, I wouldn’t be spending so much time searching for our parents.”
“Tydornen—”
It sounded different when he said it—harsher, the way their father had always said his full name, nothing like the musical way their mother made it sound. “That’s fine,” Ty said. “Besides, I don’t want to take too much of your time.” He took a deep breath, gathering himself, and let it out slowly. “Has there been any word during your travels about—”
“There’s been no word,” Albion said softly. “During our stops, I’ve looked for more information, but I haven’t heard.”
That disappointed Ty. He thought Albion’s travels would result in more luck finding information about their parents, but perhaps serving the High Priest kept him too busy for that. Then again, he doubted whether Albion even looked. Maybe he’d truly moved on.
“I was just hoping we might find something more,” Ty said.
“If there was something, I would be sure to send word to you.”
“Would you?”
Albion frowned before nodding to him. “Of course I would.”
Ty fidgeted in place, though his discomfort might have come from being in the temple as much as it came from standing in front of his brother after being apart from him for so long. “I just want to find them.” Both of them. Their mother had gone first, then Father had gone after her, leaving word he would be gone for a time. But he had not returned.
“I have told you that we need to trust the Flame,” Albion said.
Ty looked over at the massive book resting on the table. He remembered the first time Albion had been given the book, how excited he had been, and what it had meant for him. In Albion’s mind, being given the tome meant he was now truly a part of the priesthood. In Ty’s mind, it meant Albion was truly torn from him, no longer connected in the way they had once been. Albion might still be his brother, but now he was more a part of the priesthood than anything else.
“The Flame. I’m afraid the Flame has offered me little reassurance that anything will protect them,” Ty said.
“You lack faith,” Albion said.
“I have faith.”
“In the Flame?” Albion asked, watching him.
Ty shook his head. “Not in the Flame. I have faith in myself.”
“What does that mean, Tydornen?”
“It means I’m determined to find them.”
“I see.” Albion glanced over at the table, resting his hand there for a moment before turning back to Ty. “If this is the only reason you have come, then I’m afraid there isn’t much I can say. I don’t have the answers you want.”
“I had just hoped that maybe you would be willing to keep looking. You have access to places that I haven’t been able to reach.”
Albion watched him, an unreadable expression in his eyes. He kept his face neutral, like any good priest. “You aren’t forced to remain here.”
“I’m not forced, but I’m not leaving,” he said, turning away from his brother. A moment of silence passed between them. “The king sent a dragon.”
“If you think I know what valuables the king found, you are mistaken. There were sacred remnants, but nothing else,” Albion said. “Even if there were anything more, I’m not going to provide you with information that you will then use to try to steal from the king. You need to abandon that lifestyle.”
“That lifestyle lets me search for information about our parents.”
&nb
sp; “I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I would like to find them as much as you do.”
“I doubt it,” Ty said.
Albion breathed out slowly. “You might not believe me, and that saddens me, but I do care about them—and I care about finding them—as much as you do.”
Ty fidgeted again. What had he thought his brother would say? That he’d suddenly have a change of heart? That he would be willing to abandon the Flame if it meant bringing them back?
Ty got to his feet. “I guess I was hoping my brother might be willing to help.”
“That’s not what you were hoping for,” he said. He glanced over at his bed and Ty tensed. “You were hoping to find something you can steal. I can’t help with that. What I can tell you is that Ishantil is unsettled. The Flame is uneasy. Those in the expedition can see it.”
Hearing his brother mention that gave him a different sense of it—and he felt more concerned than he had been before. “What are you saying?” Ty asked.
“I’m saying that Ishantil may erupt.”
“Ishantil has been uneasy before.”
“Not like this. The Flame has not been so angered in many years.”
“Angered?”
Albion’s mask faded for a moment, and in that moment, he looked like the young man Ty remembered from all those years ago—the one who had once led them both through the jungle, laughing and playing in the trees—but then it faded.
“I should not have said anything,” Albion stated.
“If you know something…”
“What I know is beside the point.” Albion offered a slight smile. “You are welcome in the temple at any time.”
“In the temple,” Ty repeated.
Albion nodded.
“You don’t want me to visit?” Ty asked.
“I don’t think you’re visiting for the right reasons,” Albion said.
“And what are ‘the right reasons’?”
“Finding your faith.”
“My faith died when our parents left,” Ty said.
“And that is when mine took hold. It’s my faith that helps me know there is a greater purpose. The Flame will guide us, Tydornen. It’s the Flame that will provide us with the warmth we need during those nights when it seems so cold and dark.”
“It’s your faith that keeps you from helping your brother, who’s the only one doing anything to try to find them.”
“We both know that’s not true,” Albion said.
Ty just shook his head. “I don’t even know what’s true anymore.” He turned and left his brother’s room, closing the door behind him.
When he was back outside, he circled around the temple until he reached the street leading toward the palace. He noticed more activity than he was accustomed to seeing in the city. It wasn’t just the soldiers—though there were quite a few of them, patrolling along the street and guarding the palace—as there were also citizens of Zarinth, many of them seemingly packing up their belongings. When Ishantil trembled again, Ty couldn’t help but feel as if perhaps they were making the right decision.
Albion wasn’t going to tell him what was going on, but he tried not to let his frustration with his brother get the best of him. They were brothers, yes, but Albion had long ago proven that he was more faithful to the Flame than he was to his family.
He looked up to Ishantil as it trembled yet again. Maybe it was time to leave. Everything seemed to be working against him, trying to tell him that he needed to go. He’d been in Zarinth long enough.
But to leave, he needed one more score. Something of value. He had a stash of gold, but it would take time—and money—to get established somewhere else, wherever that might be.
The presence of the soldiers, the archaeologists, and even the dragon suggested there was a significant score from the expedition. The remnants might have been brought from the city, but there would still be more. There had to be. That was what he had to go after.
Then he would go to Maggie and take her offer.
Chapter Six
Ty looked up at Ishantil again, as the volcano created a soft, glowing light.
After visiting with his brother, he was increasingly curious about what the expedition had found, but he was also thinking that he needed to get to the summit soon. If he waited too long, he wouldn’t have time to see what the expedition had found before they departed altogether. It was more than just that though. He was also concerned about what would happen if Maggie left before he had an opportunity to get back to her.
In the past, it was Ty’s experience that she had only stayed for several days, occasionally a week, but never longer than that—never so long that it would draw any attention to her presence. To anyone else in the kingdom, she was little more than a simple merchant, but to those who knew her, and knew where she traveled, she was much more than that.
He had to focus on Ishantil.
Ty wasn’t afraid of the volcano. When he was younger, they had lived along the side of the volcano, though they were closer to Zarinth than to the massive lava lake that caused the glowing light seen all throughout the city.
But with Ishantil trembling like this, he wasn’t exactly sure that he wanted to venture up the side of the mountain. There was one way he could go that would likely draw less attention, but he wasn’t sure that he wanted to take the Path of the Flame, the sacred journey the priests had secured through the jungle, leading all the way up to the summit.
Instead, he veered off, heading down a less well-worn path through the jungle, winding his way ever farther.
He didn’t hear any sound of velum, but he was concerned they were there, always around him. He didn’t know where the expedition had discovered the dragon remnants, but if there were remnants still out there, he wanted to know how to find them so he could dig them out and trade them for other assets.
In all the time he’d lived in the jungle, he hadn’t come across any dragon remnants, but then he didn’t have an ability to detect them like the Dragon Touched did. Anything he would find would be accidental. His mother had often searched around Ishantil, looking more for relics than remnants, though she hadn’t refused either. He never knew what she did with them, as they weren’t left in the house, and he didn’t think she sold them to Bingham.
When he was younger, he had been far more willing to run through the jungle, usually with Albion. As he passed a familiar section of it now, he thought about when he had traveled through here with his brother—so long ago that it no longer seemed real. It was a time when their family was intact.
Ty paused here. The notch on the tree was the same one Albion had made while waiting on him. As the older brother, he often took the lead.
“I thought you and Mother traveled the jungle all the time,” Ty recalled Albion saying while pausing briefly to wait for him.
“Not all the time,” Ty had told him. “Just when she wants to go see the lava lake.”
“Father goes up there, you know.”
“Because he believes in the Flame,” Ty had said.
“The Flame provides,” Albion had said with a hint of mocking. “The Flame provides fire and warmth, but what else do you think it provides?”
They were young—Albion not even ten at that point, and still well before he had begun his journey to the Flame.
“Mother thinks we should respect the Flame,” Ty said.
“Mother believes in the Flame because she celebrates what it was.”
He ran forward, and Ty chased him. They hurried up the slope, and at one point, Albion had let out a singsong whistle. He looked over to Ty. “Have to keep the velum back. If you do it right, you can even call to them.”
“How did you learn to match Mother?” Ty asked.
“When you listen long enough, you can start to hear the cadence. There’s a rhythm to it,” Albion replied.
Ty had tried. His mother had made it clear there was a certain pattern that the velum respected. She had always treated them differently than others in Za
rinth did.
Albion paused near another tree, but it was Ty who spotted the trap. He carved through it with his slender knife, keeping it from tripping and catching one of the velum. If they were ensnared in the trap, they would shriek for hours. It would draw the hunter who captured them, but it would also draw other velum. He hated that sound.
The hunters who risked the jungle did so for the velum, their furs prized elsewhere in the kingdom, their meat valued to anyone outside of Zarinth, but his mother had always steered clear of that. She had taught Ty and Albion to cut down any traps they saw.
“Can you whistle?” Albion asked.
“You know I can whistle,” Ty said.
He tried to make the same sound as Albion—and their mother—but he didn’t have the right rhythm. Albion was right. He felt like there was some part of it that he wasn’t catching. He didn’t know what it was, but it seemed he needed a bit more of a high-pitched trill as he replicated the sound.
Albion chuckled, cuffing him on the shoulder. “Come on. You can stop cutting traps down.”
“We don’t need the hunters coming through here.”
“And we don’t need them coming by our home to figure out who was responsible.”
“They would just blame the velum.”
Albion shook his head. “The velum have sharp claws, but they don’t use weapons.”
“I’ve seen knives in the jungle.” Not often, but Ty had found slender bone blades in places that didn’t make sense, as if the hunters had abandoned them, though no hunter ever dared go through those parts of the jungle.
“Probably old remnants,” Albion said.
Ty wasn’t sure of that, but he wasn’t about to challenge his brother when it came to the velum, or anything, really. He looked up to him. He raced through the trees, winding past vines, working his way closer to the summit, always chasing after his brother.
As they had neared the vibrant glowing, a figure standing along the rocky edge of the lava lake caught Ty’s attention, the orange bloom of light illuminating her. It was his mother. Her golden hair reflected the light coming off of the lava lake. Her pale yellow dress matched her hair. She had her hands raised, almost as if she were transfixed in prayer, though she wasn’t a celebrant of the Flame.
Path of the Flame (The Dragon Thief Book 1) Page 6