“How long have you been there?” she asked in surprise.
He stared at her for a moment, searching for something, before he answered quietly. “A while.”
A while? How long was a while? “How is it possible for you to move so silently?” she asked him in frustration. How did he do that? He moved like a ghost sometimes.
He shrugged. “You haven’t learned to use your extra senses yet.”
“My extra senses?”
He smiled his half-smile. “Your sense of smell, for one. Dragons have an acute sense of smell. No, it's more than acute. It's like another sense altogether. You should be able to smell me long before I ever get close enough to touch you.”
She looked away, remembering a recent conversation with her father about a dragon’s sense of smell. “Cerralys told me that he had known my mother was pregnant with me because he could smell the new life within her.”
He nodded. “Your senses have been dormant because you haven’t been trying to use them. Don’t worry. You’ll figure it all out.”
“What about flying?” Flying was a secret fear of hers. Not that she was afraid of heights. It was more that she feared failing at one of the only things that was inherently dragon by nature. She feared feeling like a fraud, and looking, once again, out of place and step with those around her.
His voice became a murmur. “It may take you a little time, but when you get it, you’ll be amazing.”
She shot him a look of surprise. “How do you know?” Her voice was almost hard in her fear.
He shrugged. “I just know.”
She smiled tentatively, daring to hope that she wouldn't fail as spectacularly as she thought she might. "I wonder what color my scales will be?”
His lips quirked in humor. “I can tell you if you really want to know.”
“You can’t possibly know,” she said with a laugh, looking at him. Could he?
He drew his body closer to hers, and leaned in to whisper in her ear as if he was sharing a secret of monumental proportions. “Blue.”
She laughed, feeling a familiar warmth blossom inside of her from his nearness. She ignored it. “Blue," she breathed in excitement. "I haven't seen a blue dragon yet."
“Nor have I.”
“You’re sure?”
He smiled a secret smile, looking out over the sea. “I’m sure.”
Her hand stilled on Wolf's cheek, and he bumped it gently with his nose, encouraging her to continue petting him. “I wish I could be as confident about certain things as you seem to be."
His answer came much more softly than before. “There are some things that are easy to be confident in, Auri. You will always be one of them.”
Her hand over Wolf’s ears stilled again, and she gazed searchingly at his face, but, as it had been the last handful of times that she had spent any time with him, his face was closed. Completely. She had to look away from him for a moment to get herself under control, trying in vain to dislodge the heavy feeling in her chest.
She missed Liran. So much had changed between them, and so quickly. She missed the easy friendship that they'd had at the beginning. She missed the absence of walls. She missed her friend.
He had been avoiding her. She knew that he was, she just couldn’t figure out why. Was it Nachal? Did he disapprove of her relationship with him? Did he disapprove of Nachal himself?
She felt Liran shift a little beside her, and she turned to gaze at him. “Eavesdropping is a bad habit,” she remarked blandly.
His look was rueful. “I’ve been concerned about you," he said unrepentantly. "You haven’t been sleeping much.”
Her heart stuttered as she looked away. She had given up a long time ago trying to figure out how Liran knew certain things; he just seemed to know them. Especially if those things involved her. She cut the thought short, not wanting to think about it too deeply. “I can’t sleep,” she whispered. “All I do is lay awake . . . remembering El`dell . . . remembering Valdys.”
His hand touched hers lightly, and she felt a little spark of energy against her skin. He moved his hand, but looked at her with pain-filled eyes. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there,” he rasped.
She rubbed at the hand with her thumb and pointer finger absently, speaking softly. “Please don’t, Liran. There wasn't any time. And besides, I didn’t want any of you with me, putting your lives in any more danger than necessary.”
“Except for the brute, of course.”
“Wolf?”
His eyes glinted mischievously, but underneath their surface, there was something deeper lurking in their depths. Something hidden. “Who else would I mean?”
Wolf growled without opening his eyes, and she stifled a laugh. “Of course,” she echoed with a smile.
She looked down at the hand she was still rubbing absently, and twisted it this way and that to see if there was some kind of physical mark on it. There wasn't. “What was that?”
He smiled mischievously. "This?" He reached out to touch her arm, and a spark zinged against her skin again.
She scowled at him as she tried to smooth down the fine hairs that stood straight up all along the length of her arm. “What is that? Is lightning coming from your fingertips?”
His eyes glinted with laughter. “In a very small way, I suppose. Elves are able to absorb several different forms of Terradin's energy. In the case of lightning, we can harness a small portion of it inside of ourselves, and then use it to care for the lands.” The laughter in his eyes spread to his lips. "As well as other things."
Her eyes widened. “That lightning storm a few days ago . . .”
He chuckled as he jolted her again, and she pushed him away, scowling. Wolf growled, looking up at Liran in warning. She patted his head to mollify him. "It's alright, Wolf. You know he's only teasing." She turned to Liran. "Can you teach me to do that?"
He sobered instantly. His voice went quiet. “I don’t know if you can. Most elves are only able to draw a little power in, lest they risk a serious unbalance within themselves. The very strong, such as the queen, are able to draw more. I’m not sure if your dragon half would block the drawing ability and capacity, or amplify it.”
“Would amplifying it be dangerous?”
He shrugged. “If your form cannot hold it in, yes. You’re no doubt a little physically stronger than the average elf, though, so I’m unsure.”
She shook her head. It was swimming a bit. Every piece of new information seemed like it was for someone else, because it couldn’t be about her. The thought of flying, of shooting fire out of her mouth, absorbing energy . . . These all seemed like children’s stories. They just couldn't be real.
“They’re real,” Liran murmured. “Give it some time, Auri. You’re dealing with a lot right now.”
She didn’t reprimand him again for eavesdropping. Instead, her thoughts immediately drifted back to that night on the plains. She became so lost in remembering, that it was a while before she noticed how absolutely still Liran had become. Like he had become the antithesis of sound and movement.
Oh.
She squeezed her eyes shut in self-recrimination. In the weeks since Valdys’s death, she had been very careful about her thoughts around Liran. She sensed how much it hurt him that he hadn’t been there to protect her, how much it hurt him that she returned broken in her father's arms, and she didn’t for the world want to make his pain worse. And now . . . now it was too late. For one brief moment, she had let the memories surface, and he had snatched them from her mind. Just as she feared would happen.
She unclenched her eyes, and turned slowly to face him.
His skin had gone as pale as wax, and his eyes were like golden-amber flecks of flame. He continued to hold himself very still. Painfully still. “I’m sorry, Liran. I forgot . . .” She let the sentence trail off. What could she say? That she had forgotten that she was trying to protect him and keep the images from that night out of his mind?
He closed his eyes, r
emaining silent. He looked like he was fighting for control. The only emotion he was allowing her to sense from him was anger. Or perhaps, that was the one emotion that was too strong for him to contain. “Liran?” She touched his hand briefly, then withdrew it. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to . . . make sure that you didn’t see that. I just . . . I’m sorry.”
He began speaking stiffly with his eyes still closed. “The Luminari want me to find The Lost Ones, Auri. Do you know who they are?”
She blinked at the sudden shift in conversation. “No. I'd never heard of them until earlier.”
His eyes opened, and she wanted to flinch away at the blatant pain in them. She had caused that. Her thoughtlessness had caused that.
“The Lost Ones are the dragons that never chose. When the war broke out, The Lost Ones refused to fight, and then disappeared. They’ve been gone ever since.”
“That’s why the name.”
Liran nodded slowly. “Yes. It affected the elves when we lost so many, when we lost your mother. Something that had been strong and fluid became suddenly brittle to the point of breaking. Our cohesion as a people is part of our strength, and so it is with the dragons. When The Lost Ones disappeared, they lost part of their strength, their cohesion, and they need it back desperately if they are to have a chance at defeating The Rebels.”
Auri nodded. “The Rebels," she whispered. "I think only other races must call them that.”
“What does your father call them?” Liran asked softly.
“Family. To the Luminari and those that have chosen to side with the king, they are still their family, no matter their crimes. Love and memories do not wither for them. The memories can change, becoming something less painful in time, but for most of them . . . still . . . there is a deep rent, a hole that cannot be fixed.”
“I’m so sorry,” Liran whispered.
“I never realized how much is instinctual with dragons. With me. I must have known, deep down. Valdys remarked upon it when I left. He hid certain information from me, information about The Rebels, because he said that he didn’t want it to hurt me.” She turned to him. “I never understood why it affected me so deeply. I guess now I know.”
Liran nodded, drawing in a deep breath as he seemed to search for the right words to say. “The reason,” he began gently, “that I mentioned them, is because I wanted you to understand the reason I've chosen to accept this assignment.”
She touched her hand to his briefly, before withdrawing it. “It's a search for hope, Liran. I understand.”
His eyes studied hers for a long while before he murmured quietly, “No, I don’t think that you do.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek lightly, then stood and walked away in the direction of The Hall. She turned and watched him go, thinking about his reasons, and how they, in the end, didn’t do anything to blunt the sudden, overwhelming feeling of loss that felt like it was swallowing her whole.
Chapter Two- Shifted
One hour before dawn, she rose and went searching for her father.
It was almost time. . . .
She found him in his study, still speaking with Nachal. Their conversation stopped abruptly when she opened the door. “Sorry,” she said quietly, looking at her father. “I just wanted a few minutes with you before we leave.”
He nodded as Nachal rose slowly from the chair and came over to stand in front of her. “Don’t be stubborn,” he said with a sigh. Then he kissed her cheek, and shut the door softly.
She turned to her father in confusion. “Am I really that stubborn?” she asked him with a frown.
He laughed, and all of the shadows fled from his countenance. She couldn't help but smile in return. “I’m afraid he’s speaking of something specific, dear, not merely general stubbornness.” He was quiet for a moment, studying her, before he announced with brevity, “Nachal has asked that he be withdrawn as my heir, and that he be withdrawn as next in line for the crown.”
She gasped, collapsing down hard into the nearest chair. “He what!?”
Cerralys gave her a pained smile. “He doesn’t want to take your inheritance from you, Auri, and he doesn’t want you to feel as though you must share it either. He’s asked to be completely withdrawn, even going so far as to suggest that he should bunk in the barracks with the rest of the soldiers.”
“Ridiculous,” she said, sitting up and scowling. “I can’t be your heir because I . . . and he . . . and I. Well it’s just better for him to.” She sighed, and tried to forge ahead despite her lack of articulation. “Besides, there’s plenty of room for everyone here. We even have enough room to move the barracks in The Hall if we wanted to!”
Cerralys sat back in his chair, his face sober. “Because you what, dear?”
She frowned. This wasn’t going at all like she had wanted it to. “Well obviously, because I am who I am, an elf, and he is who he is, a prince. His intelligence and the way everyone jumps to obey him, not because he’s a tyrant, but because he has their respect, makes him a natural-born leader, and the most logical choice. It’s obvious that you’ve been grooming him to take over for you once you . . .” She floundered for a moment at that cold thought, then drew in a breath and tried to bravely forge ahead. “Well, he’s obviously the better choice.”
Her father's eyes had softened at her words, and he studied her in silence for many long moments before he spoke again. “I agree with you regarding where he sleeps.” He sat forward in his chair, seeming to literally hold her in place with the sudden intensity of his eyes. “However,” he said with resolve, “I agree with him about the change of my heir. I believe that it is you that Eldaria and Terradin needs on the throne.”
She slumped back into her chair, completely dazed. “Are you completely mad?” she finally managed.
His eyes twinkled. “Perhaps,” he allowed.
She raised a shaky hand to brush her hair away from her face, then got up abruptly to begin pacing the room. What was it that she had just been daydreaming about the other day? A simple life here with her father? She laughed. It sounded choked, and slightly hysterical, but it was still a laugh.
The king was suddenly standing in front of her. He halted her frantic pacing by placing his warm hands atop her shoulders. His voice was gentle. “You will find, my child that you will become equal to the tasks before you, whatever they may be.”
What could she possibly say to that?
“Thank you for your confidence in me,” she said faintly, her voice wry. “I still think you’re losing your hold on reality though.”
He chuckled and enveloped her with his warm arms. “I love you, Auri.”
“I love you too.”
When he pulled away, she could see the strain of the last few months' events etched deeply in the lines of his face. She kissed his cheek. “Stay safe, Cerralys. Please? I’ve lost so many. I couldn’t bear to lose you too.”
“Nor I you. I will do my best.”
“Stephen will look after you. He promised me.”
Cerralys chuckled. “Then all will be well.”
Quiet, as they stared at one another. “It’s time,” she whispered, as the first faint blush of pink sunrise washed through the study window, and splashed against his desk and face.
“It’s time,” he whispered. The room went quiet again, and then he smiled and kissed her forehead. “Gather your traveling companions,” he said, heading for the door. “I’ll gather the doubles.”
Auri stood rooted to the spot for a few endless minutes. She felt like her heart was ripping in two as she finally left the study, shutting the door behind her.
They made a very public appearance on the cliff above the water. All four of them stood there for a few minutes. Long enough for any spies to note who they were, and that they were alone. Then they turned as one, and walked down to the main hall, entering the huge doors somberly.
A few minutes later, four emerged again, with Wolf bringing up the rear. Their cloaks shadowed their faces. One of them was
slight of build, and had raven hair escaping into the wind.
They met the armed men waiting for them at the raised portcullis, and then they advanced forward, marching steadily down the cliff to the forest below as though heading to war.
The path that the real four chose to take was much more treacherous, almost a sheer cliff, with no path whatsoever winding down the side of it. Every few feet there were little divots in the rock, large enough to get a hand or foot in, but little else. They used these to make the long, silent trip down to the bottom.
Auri focused single-mindedly on her task, emptying her mind completely of what she was leaving behind, and trying to find the next spot to put her hands and feet. She had climbed a few things before—trees and such in her childhood—but nothing of this magnitude. The sheer face of the rock was almost entirely straight up and down. There were no doubts about what would happen if any of them fell.
Nachal had started the decent first, with Dhurmic following. She was third, and Liran was above her. She looked up at him and scowled darkly. He looked as calm and composed as if he were merely taking a pleasant moonlit stroll, with a slight breeze rustling through the trees, and birds chirping in the soft mist. He saw her scowl, and the corners of his mouth drew up in the slightest of smiles. His eyes were definitely laughing at her. Laughing, but not mocking. She appreciated the difference.
She started mumbling under her breath as she stretched her arm to reach for the next handhold. A handhold that didn’t seem to be there. Her face ground into the rock painfully as she tried to stretch her fingertips to go even further. She winced as she knocked some pebbles off the ledge and they tumbled down onto Dhurmic. Dwarven growling and muttering followed. She would have laughed if her face weren’t so busy getting smashed into the rock. As it was, she was barely breathing lest she disturb anything too deeply. Best to be safe.
She closed her eyes, adjusted her footing so that she was balancing on the very tips of her toes, and reached. A strong hand briefly caught hers, guided it to the divot that she had been searching for, and then was gone before her eyes could even flash open in surprise. Liran. He had done it again! How did he get so close to her without her hearing him!
“Thank you,” she said, already searching for the next handhold. Liran nodded as he took the lead, showing her by example where to put her feet and hands, and keeping his pace exactly even with her own. She followed him carefully.
Dragon Dreams (The Chronicles of Shadow and Light) Book 1 Page 25