* * *
Fourteen years later, Klavon stood and stared at the exact spot where Thyre had lay dead at his feet. Every year he returned. He had searched, expanding the distance from these ruins, but he had yet to find her. What had he missed?
Perhaps he was being too careful. Up to now, his pursuit had been done in the shadows, not daring to divulge his presence lest she were to find out and run away, yet again.
But weariness had chipped away at him for too many years, and he stared coldly at the patch of ground beneath his feet. It was time for more drastic measures.
“Norinar,” he whispered with a grin. Klavon raised his staff, and an amber cloud swirled in front of him. “Show me!” he commanded, and the cloud inched its way to the outer edges of its expanse, revealing a window.
Inside, a strong wizard sat, surrounded by beautiful woods. He looked as though he was meditating, his eyes closed and peace written across his face.
“Foolish wizard!” exclaimed Klavon, and with a swish of his staff, he vanished and reappeared, standing directly behind Norinar.
Klavon knew well the strength of this wizard, and he was already prepared. An unseen force clasped Norinar firmly around his neck and raised him into the air. Norinar’s eyes flew open and then glazed over, and as he slipped into nothingness, he, along with his sword and staff, fell to the ground.
Klavon walked next to the motionless wizard and smiled. His prisoner’s weapons vanished, and a thin red rope appeared and slid around the neck of the unconscious man.
When Norinar awoke, Klavon stood over him. The captured wizard struggled to remove the rope, but the more he tried, the more it tightened.
“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you. You see, I have no desire to kill you, but I do need information,” Klavon stated. “And should you be forthcoming, I will let you live.”
“I know who you are, and I know what you want,” said Norinar. “It took you long enough. But I guess fourteen years for you to figure it out is pretty much normal, isn’t it? Or am I being too generous?”
Klavon’s face distorted, and he seethed. He would have killed Norinar right then had it not been for his usefulness…at least at that moment. “Oh, old friend, I’ve known where you are for many years, despite your pathetic effort to move your village in hopes of escaping me. But timing is everything, don’t you agree?”
Norinar glared at Klavon and looked around the small clearing.
“They aren’t here,” said Klavon. “Your sword and staff are…far away, beyond your ability to summon.”
Norinar frowned but said nothing, and Klavon laughed.
“You see, I have been searching all these years. Did you really think I wouldn’t watch your village to see if she were there?”
“Miora was no fool. Even if she had survived the storm, she would never have come to me. She would rather die…and likely did.”
“Hmmm, you see, there is a slight problem. You being Thrye’s closest friend, she would surely have sought your help. So now,” Klavon said, tightening the rope around Norinar’s neck with only a squint of his eyes, “I believe she did come to you, and I believe you helped her find a safe and hidden haven.”
“She didn’t. Now let me go!” demanded Norinar.
“Why would I do that? You have yet to tell me what I want to know. Besides, you have unwisely gone against me…guilty of hiding her location from me.”
“The only thing I am guilty of is allowing myself to be caught off guard by a pathetic sorcerer like—”
“Careful. You are trying my patience,” said Klavon. He stared at Norinar struggling for air, and the thin rope loosened just enough to allow Norinar a breath. “You see. I can be accommodating, so why don’t you return the favor?” Klavon’s voice became suddenly more serious. “Where is she?” he asked slowly, fire in his eyes and venom in his voice.
“Even if I knew,” replied Norinar, equally as slow, “I wouldn’t tell you. You are a fool if you believe she survived.”
Klavon’s anger grew. “I am not a fool! You are! You are willing to die to keep her from me? She belongs with me!”
“She belonged with Thyre. Always did, and you can do nothing to—”
“I am done with you!” shrieked Klavon, and the rope tightened around Norinar’s neck.
“Still willing to murder for something that never belonged to you,” gasped Norinar.
Klavon moved to within inches of Norinar’s face and said, “Willing to serve justice to those who would defy my commands.”
“You are not worthy that any would follow your rule,” Norinar spat, barely able to release the words before the rope constricted and a last breath escaped his lips.
Klavon stood for several moments, staring down at the dead wizard. “You know nothing of rule, sitting there, vulnerable as you were. Power is rule,” he said, and with a swish of his staff, the thin red rope disappeared and Klavon healed the wounds that burned into Norinar’s neck. “And deception.”
Klavon whispered a few unintelligible words, and Norinar’s staff and sword reappeared on the ground next to him. Then a bolt of lightning shot from the end of Klavon’s staff, and a large tree broke loose and fell atop Norinar, concealing Klavon’s murder in a horrible accident.
His mouth twisted in a frustrated growl, and with a swirl, he vanished and reappeared in the dark courtyard outside his castle. Fraenir was circling above and landed with a hard thud.
Klavon’s growl turned to a sinister smile—he couldn’t help it. Fraenir was magnificent, a dragon in most eyes, but Klavon knew differently—Fraenir was no dragon for dragons were…weak. And for these fourteen years, Fraenir aided in his search for Miora.
“Have you found anything? Any sign?” asked Klavon, expecting the same answer he’d heard so many times before.
Fraenir’s gazed down with a triumphant stare and said, “I have.” His raspy voice thundered in his chest.
“She is found?” Klavon asked, hardly believing the words he had just heard.
For a brief moment, he laughed, finding humor in Norinar’s misfortune. Had Klavon been aware of Freanir’s find, he would have had no need to visit Norinar. Oh well. I never did care for him.
“Yes, and all this time she has been only hours beyond the mire. In Brandor.”
“What? How? That is nowhere near the village…or what is left of it.” Klavon smirked as he thought of the havoc, the complete annihilation he had brought to Thyre’s village—a memory that had sustained his search all these long years.
“I know. But your search tactics have paid off, if not as soon as you would have liked,” replied Fraenir.
“It was only reasonable to assume she could not go too far…and with that…monstrosity.” Klavon spat on the ground, thinking of the child that should have been, but was not, his. “She is stronger than we thought, but of course she is. I would expect no different. She is, after all, destined to stand at my side.”
Fraenir nodded. “So what are your plans?”
Klavon stared at the tree-line, the direction of the mire. “The boy is a problem. Bring him to me so that I may end the line of Thyre, the last living person who could possibly come between her and me.”
“That will be difficult,” Fraenir said.
No one ever questioned Klavon, not without regret. Fraenir, however, was different. Klavon admired the beast’s strength, and Fraenir was the only living thing, human or creature, who could speak so openly to him.
“You do not believe I am capable?” asked Klavon.
Fraenir threw his head back and laughed, fire shooting out of his mouth, singing the branches of a nearby tree. “I have no doubt of your capabilities. I have seen them first hand.” Fraenir glanced at a pile of human bones at the side of the courtyard. “No, they have a barrier around the entire village. Strong and impenetrable.”
“A barrier. Why?”
“I saw no wizard. I can only guess he has left the barrier as a protection in his stead. It is quite powerful preventing
me from flying near, but I have keen eyes. I was able to see a book in the wizard’s tower where you would expect to see the wizard.”
“A book? Now that is peculiar,” said Klavon, nodding his head as he tried to recall the significance of such an object.
“I watched from a distance for many days. Still no wizard. Just the book.”
“No wizard?” mused Klavon. “Yes, this is quite peculiar.”
“And that’s not all. The boy…the one you would kill…” Fraenir seemed to relish his words, speaking them in a soft, slow hiss. “I have seen him in the tower, watching the book.”
“That is curious,” said Klavon. “What of Prydon? Did you see him?”
“I saw nothing of that…vile creature,” hissed Fraenir. He glanced down at the scars on his chest and legs. “If I had, I would have killed him.”
Klavon laughed, a throaty sound that echoed from his castle grounds. “Fraenir, you are modest. You and I both know that you most likely killed him years ago.”
“While I would not want to underestimate him, I do believe that his absence over the past fourteen years would imply that he is indeed dead.”
“Good. Now to business,” said Klavon. “Brandor’s wizard is a fool. I will study this magic, and I will discover its purpose.”
Fraenir bowed and returned to the air. Klavon watched and then turned and entered his fortress, making his way to the lab where he would determine his next move. It had to be planned perfectly…for she had been found.
Days later, Klavon stood again in his courtyard. “Are you ready?” he asked.
Fraenir shrieked, and his body shrank and changed into a ball of fire, wings spread as he hovered above Klavon. He was no longer the dragon but a fiery beast, flames for feathers and red hot spikes for talons.
“The curse must be for the boy,” said Klavon. “That will ensure he comes to me.”
Fraenir bowed, and Klavon closed his eyes and walked into the fire. Not a single flame singed him as he spoke ancient words. When he finished, he opened his eyes and backed out, away from the flaming creature.
“You know what to do,” Klavon said. “You will have only moments before the barrier will heal, so you must act quickly.”
“I am ready,” replied Fraenir, and he shot off into the sky…toward the boy.
Chapter Two
The Book
Darius and the Dragon's Stone Page 2