Zelia's Lost Path

by Zora Marie

  “They only did what I asked.”

  The boat bobbed as Raven landed and Orvi cowered behind Linithion, nervous to be around others like her.

  “Who is this?” Raven asked.

  “Dotchavitch, Raven, meet Orvi. She is the daughter of Kniteoff.”

  “Orvi, it’s okay, Raven is the one I was telling you about.”

  Dotch looked at Orvi and the others, then turned back to Zelia.

  “Why are you here?” Dotch asked.

  “We need your help,” Vainoff stepped into the conversation.

  “Why would you need my help?”

  “They need to speak with Yargo and they think there is a…” Kafthry searched for a description, “something that will let them do it here.”

  Linithion giggled at Kafthry’s frustration and took Zelia’s hand as she stepped into the circle of conversation. The boat rocked and Zelia glanced over her shoulder to see Stardust had joined Raven and Orvi in conversation. She could hear them, but pushed them to a rhythmic hum in the background of her thoughts.

  “Why have them bring me here alone?” Dotchavitch asked.

  “I didn’t want to explain in front of everyone,” Zelia said. “And I know how hard it can be to get a word in around here.”

  “Before we get too far, would you mind putting that away?” Linithion nodded to his sword, and he slid it into the sheath at his side.

  “So, what makes you think we have a way to speak to Yargo? Sure, we have tales about the gods, but until you showed up, they were just tales.”

  “Who painted the portraits of Yargo?”

  “My great-great-grandfather. But wha… ” realization dawned on him and his eyes widened. “Are you saying he really spoke with Yargo?”

  Zelia nodded and turned to Vainoff, letting him take over explaining what they were looking for.

  “Zelia,” Raven’s voice came to the forefront with the mention of her name. “The others are coming.”

  Zelia turned towards the island to see four dragons speeding towards them.

  “Stardust, would you make sure none of them sink our ship please?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where is he going?” Dotchavitch asked, interrupting Vainoff.

  “To make sure our friends don’t sink us. I would kind of like to return this ship in one piece.”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much. After you left, we decided we needed a way to communicate better.” He patted the small horn at his hip.

  “May I see it?” Linithion asked, her love of carvings getting the better of her.

  Dotch pulled it loose and handed it to her. The open end was carved in the shape of a dragon’s head, its jaw open as though to breathe fire.

  “Not bad for a human.”

  Zelia elbowed her. “Be nice.”

  Linithion blushed, realizing what she had said, and handed it back to Dotch.

  “Well, I would love to have one made by your hand.”

  Vainoff cleared his throat. “If you three are finished, I believe someone should explain things to them.” He raised his staff, pointing it at the circling dragons.

  Dotchavitch scanned the deck of the ship.

  “There isn’t enough room here for everyone. I’ll fill them in on the way back to the island and I’ll have the dock prepared for you.”

  A whirl of red hit the deck in the corner of Zelia’s vision and she turned to find Fifthry, the fiery haired dragon rider, holding her sword to Skylar’s throat.

  “Don’t.” Dotchavitch pushed her sword away from Skylar. “I’m fine, you can put that away.”

  She turned on Dotchavitch. “We thought someone had taken you.”

  “I did too, but, nope, it’s just Kafthry and Zelia.”

  Fifthry recognized them among the strangers.

  “And Keller?” she asked.

  Kafthry’s head dropped at the mention of him and Saria took his hand.

  “Keller gave his life at the battle for The Hold. He died saving innocent lives,” Saria said.

  “Oh… I’m so sorry Kafthry.” The words seemed foreign coming from the spunky redhead, but they were genuine.

  “How are Elm and Evergreen?” Kafthry asked.

  “Good, but distant. Raven had been too. So, who are all of you?” Fifthry asked.

  Linithion stepped forward without letting go of Zelia’s hand.

  “I am Princess Linithion of the Drakeon Empire. The Elf with Kafthry is Saria, an Elven warrior. The one whose throat you just about slit is Skylar, a grandson of Yargo. He,” she nodded to the Elf standing to her right, “is Alrindel, Zelia’s brother. The wizard is Vainoff, the one who is eating fish in the corner is Nikolas, and Orvi, the dragon, is the daughter of Kniteoff. Now, your turn. Who are you and who are they?” Linithion pointed to the dragons who circled above them.

  “That’s just Johnol and the twins, Senth and Sligh. My name is Fifthry and I believe you already know Chief Dotchavitch.”

  “Dotch, it’s just Dotch,” Dotch protested wearily, as though he grew tired of denouncing the title.

  “Alright, that’s enough of the introductions. Zelia, Skylar, you two go ahead with them and help them get things settled. We won’t be far behind,” Vainoff said.

  “I’ll go with them as well,” Linithion said, squeezing Zelia’s hand tighter as she did.

  “You will not leave my side, or your father will have my head.”

  “Linithion, please don’t make this any harder than it has to be. Stay with Orvi and you’ll be on the island soon enough.”

  “Alright, but you should take Nikolas if you can.”

  As she said it, the ship rolled over a slight wave and Nikolas hurled over the side of the boat again.

  “He can ride with me, one of our healers can give him something for the sea sickness when we get back,” Dotch said.

  27

  Sheep dotted the snow dusted fields and a few dragons spiraled in the sky as they approached the island. Skylar leaned in closer to Zelia.

  “How many riders do they have?” Skylar asked.

  Zelia shrugged. “There were only five when I left.”

  “We now have ten riders, but Fifthry, Johnol, and Dotch are the only ones with a true bond with their dragons.”

  “Raven—”

  “Later, Orvi told me why you’re here. Our feelings do not matter now.”

  They landed by the open firepit on the southern shore. Zelia and Skylar staggered as they slid from Raven, lacking their land legs after their journey. Nikolas didn’t even try to stand and hugged the sandy shoreline as he lay on the ground. The village had grown under Dotchavitch’s leadership, they had expanded the dining hall and new huts dotted the curve of the cove.

  “You’ve been busy.”

  “Yeah, we found the remains of some struggling villages this summer. A storm had ruined their ships and most of their homes.”

  A man she hadn’t met before approached, an ax balanced on his shoulder as he strode across the beach with an easy stride.

  “Bringing home more strays I see. Should I have another hut constructed?”

  “No need Stron, Zelia here is an old friend.” The older man raised a brow at her, eyeing her up and down in a quick inspection as Dotch continued, “They’re just visiting for a while. We need places for them and a few others to bed down for a few nights. And can you take him,” he nodded to Nikolas, “to your healer?”

  “Consider it handled.” The older gentleman nodded to them and hauled Nikolas to his feet.

  “I’m fine,” Nikolas protested as Stron kept him from falling over.

  “If you’re supposed to be greener and skinnier than a sapling, then sure ya are.” Stron gave a light chuckle and lead him into the village.

  “Your father would be proud, you’ve grown into an outsta
nding leader,” Zelia said.

  “Stron may have helped with that. He was the leader of his people, still is really, but he is one of our elders now and has been a great asset.”

  “Does he…”

  “Know about your powers? Yes, everyone here does, though I admit I didn’t think you would return in our lifetimes.”

  The breeze from the ocean picked up, and Zelia shivered.

  “Here, let’s go inside. The rest of your people will be here by evening, but I feel as though Vainoff didn’t want you to wait on him. Johnol, would you make sure we’re left alone for a while?”

  Johnol raked a hand through his hair. “Easier said than done.”

  Zelia turned to say something to Raven, but she flew off, giving Zelia the feeling that she didn’t want to talk.

  “Lead the way,” Skylar said, squeezing Zelia’s shoulder as though he sensed something was off between her and Raven.

  ~

  Dotchavitch led the way past the dining hall and to a familiar stone and wood building, it was larger than the others, but not by much.

  “You are welcome to our spare room,” Fifthry said as she opened the door to the home that had previously only been Dotchavitch and his father’s.

  “So, why do you need to talk to Yargo?” Dotch asked as he sat in a chair near the fireplace, gesturing to the seats across from him.

  A horn sounded in the distance and Fifthry cursed under her breath. “I’ll be back.”

  They watched her go. “What’s that about?” Skylar asked.

  “That was Senth’s horn, she was asking for help. One of the new riders probably did something stupid. So, about Yargo?”

  “We believe there is a well or a portal somewhere,” Skylar said. “My family kept what we called Lumid’s Well, it was a spring the Fairies brought forth and Zivu enchanted. It was destroyed around the time I was born, but we believe there is another well near here.”

  “Fairies brought forth the well?”

  “Yes, but Zivu enchanted it,” Zelia said, knowing Dotch was thinking of Fairy Island. “Vainoff claims there are some natural portals as well, so while Fairy Island is on the list of places to check, we are hoping that maybe your great-grandfather had made maps of his adventures like you have.”

  “Hm, they weren’t very accurate, but father insisted we keep them.”

  Dotch stood and walked to the center of the room, grabbing a handful of the woven wool rug. He pulled it to the side, revealing a wooden hatch in the dirt floor.

  “Um, Skylar, would you give me a hand?” He gestured to the other side of the hatch that was wider than his arm span.

  They hefted the section of the floor and set it aside. Dotchavitch stepped into the knee-deep hole and rummaged through some parchments, coins clinking as they shifted around them.

  “Here it is.” He lifted a folded and torn parchment, dumping a few coins from its folds before stepping out of the hole and retaking his seat.

  Skylar rejoined them by the fire, and Dotchavitch carefully unfolded the parchment. Zelia leaned in, studying the random use of different writing materials and hastily drawn lines.

  “You would never know he was an artist by his maps,” Dotch said as he smoothed the parchment out. “I couldn’t even figure out where our island is, let alone anywhere else.”

  “May I?” Zelia took it and held it between her and Skylar. “Is it just me or is this a star map?”

  Skylar ran a finger over a familiar constellation, then traced a faded, squiggly shape beneath it. “Yes, but I’ve never been good at reading them.”

  “We had just started learning to read them when…” she trailed off.

  “Well, better hope Alrindel paid attention then.”

  “I doubt it. He had just watched me die. Maybe Linithion can?”

  A scream and a mangled howl sounded in the distance, causing Dotch and Skylar to jump to their feet.

  “Freg,” Zelia cursed to herself. “They’ve never heard of a wolfblood, much less seen one before.”

  “A what?” Dotch asked as he headed out the door.

  “Eh, you’ll see. Where did Stron take Nikolas?” Skylar asked.

  “This way.”

  Zelia set the map down and stood, thankful the earth no longer seemed to move beneath her feet as she followed Dotch and Skylar. They jogged down the street ahead of her and turned a corner past the dining hall. She picked up the pace, coming around the corner just in time to see Skylar jump between an ax wielding islander and Nikolas.

  “Get out of the way boy,” the old woman demanded, “beasts of Fregnar aren’t welcome here.”

  “He’s not a beast,” Skylar said, his tone calm and even.

  Nikolas snarled at the women and Zelia grabbed him, pulling him to face her as she kneeled beside his hunched form.

  “What has gotten into you?”

  Nikolas’ expression shifted, and he covered his face with a paw, as his body shifted, his fur shortening. It was then she noticed just how skinny he’d become. While on the boat, he had always kept himself hidden beneath his bulky clothes.

  “Uh, Skylar…”

  She didn’t need to say more as he pulled his cloak loose and drape it over Nikolas before he could fully shift.

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  Nikolas shrugged.

  “Your stubbornness will cost you one of these days.”

  “How about we take this inside,” Dotch suggested, already ushering them into a nearby hut.

  As they entered the comfortably furnished home, Stron followed them, closing the door behind him.

  “Someone want to tell me what the Freg that was all about?” Stron asked.

  “I haven’t shifted in so long, it just kind of happened,” Nikolas said, swaying as he stood holding the cloak tight around himself. “I’m sorry.”

  Skylar stepped closer, putting his hand on Nikolas’ forehead. “You’re burning up. Sit down.”

  “Here cover it up,” Stron tossed Skylar a blanket from the couch, keeping his eyes averted from the wolfblood’s nakedness. He kept his back turned until enough time had passed for Skylar to make Nikolas presentable, then turned back to them. “He can stay here until we get him sorted out.” Though he was inviting him to stay, he stared at Nikolas warily.

  “May we have water for him, please?” Zelia asked. “And when the others arrive, can you have them come here?”

  “Stron, would you?” Dotch asked.

  “I’ll expect an explanation later.”

  With Stron gone, Zelia paced. There wasn’t much she could do without Alrindel and Saria. While she could tend wounds, she was not a healer.

  “Zelia?” Dotch said.

  “Hm?” She stopped pacing and turned to him.

  “Can we talk?” he nodded towards the door and she glanced back at Skylar.

  “Yeah.”

  Dotch led her outside, shutting the door behind them before leading her away from the village.

  “What is he?”

  “He’s a wolfblood. They’re people who turn into wolves. I should have known better than to bring him. He needs meat more than the rest of us.”

  “I’m sure you’ve done everything you could have for him. That said, you’re not telling me everything. Why didn’t you just use your connection to Rogath to communicate with Yargo?”

  Zelia drew a deep breath and sat in the snow, her cloak drawn around her.

  “We’re here because Xander wants to kill Yargo and Zivu so he can use their power to bring back his dead wife. Did I ever tell you how I ended up here in the first place?”

  “No, you weren’t ready to talk back then.”

  She nodded, thinking of the best way to explain. “Some of the wizards who created me used me, my powers, to attack Yargo and Zivu. I stole Lumid’s sword to a
ctivate the gate, and this is where I ended up. I killed one guard and left Yargo, Zivu, and Lumid nearly frozen solid.”

  Zelia paused and when Dotch didn’t say anything she continued, “I think they used the friction in my connection to Rogath and his anger to gain some control of him. He’s been acting strange and blocking me, only appearing long enough to wish me dead for good and scramble my emotions with his own.”

  “Have you tried blocking him out?”

  Zelia shook her head. “We’re afraid Xander will gain more control of him. They’ve used blood magic to get to him through me, and we think they’ve been working on the spell too long for it to fall apart by blocking him. For now, I’m caught between them…” she arched her back slightly, remembering the magic lashings.

  “Then is it a good idea for you to be involved in all of this?” Dotch asked.

  “No, but I am. The others didn’t know how to get here, and they didn’t have any idea what to look for. Besides, we figured you would be more willing to help Kafthry and me than just some random Elves and Skylar.”

  A horn sounded from the other side of the village, and Dotch’s brow furrowed.

  “That can’t be right,” Dotch said.

  “What?”

  “That’s the call for a ship docking, but yours shouldn’t be here for a few more hours.”

  “Well… they built it on Hyperia and Vainoff seemed eager to get to dry land, so…”

  “Magic?”

  Zelia shrugged.

  “Well, come on then.”

  28

  A small crowd had gathered at the docks by the time Dotch and Zelia made it to the other side of the village. Hushed whispers of Elves and wizards murmured through the crowd as Dotch’s presence cleared a path in front of her. She couldn’t help but feel small as people stared at her, now a stranger to these people. Then her name passed through the crowd. Some of them remembered her after all.

  Linithion was first to jump from the boat, much to Vainoff’s dismay. He seemed to grumble as he peered over the side.

  “There are more people than you described.” Linithion intertwined her fingers with Zelia’s and she could feel the heat rise to her cheeks.