13
ConDra’s Fire
DerTah
T he sun had not yet risen above the red dunes of Fera Finnero when Torgin, Ira, and Brie tumbled from the vortex onto the night-cooled sand. Torgin glanced at his friends where they lay unmoving at the base of a tall, wind-rounded dune. “What do we do now, Brie?” He struggled to keep his panic out of his question.
With exaggerated slowness, she sat up and looked around. Nothing moved. She smiled. “The first thing we do is change the patterning in your compass, Torg.”
Quickly, she explained Almiralyn’s instructions. Torgin removed the leather thong from around his neck and held the compass with the face parallel to the desert floor. “Do I need to say the verse?”
“No, I’ll do it. Watch the back so we know when the patterning is complete. Ready?”
Both boys nodded and stared at the blue back with its sprinkling of stars. Closing her eyes, Brie recited the verse Myrrh’s Guardian had taught her.
“ DerTah’s patterns deep and rare,
Desert, ocean, mountains fair,
Absorb these secrets into thee,
And all else that we should see.”
“Would you look at that?” Ira sounded surprised.
Torgin looked at her with round, astonished eyes. “The stars really shifted.”
Brie felt a rush of relief and realized that she hadn’t been sure it would work without Almiralyn. “They did, didn’t they! Tuck it away, Torg. We need to go.” When the compass was back beneath his shirt, she stood up and offered her hand.
He grasped it and let her pull him to his feet. His awed expression melted into doubt as his gaze darted over the red dunes. “Are we about to be eaten by Fire ConDra?”
“I think we’re safe in the shade, but once the sun is higher in the sky…” She shrugged.
Ira jumped to his feet and brushed the sand from his short hair. “What does the book say about Fire ConDra, Brielle? It won’t be long until there’s no shade to hide in.”
“It doesn’t say much except that water can destroy them.” She pulled a lightweight, hooded cloak the color of the desert sand from her pack. “And that wearing a DerTahan kcalo will make it harder for them to sense you.” She slipped her arms into the long, wide sleeves. “It also protects you from the heat of the sun and the cold at night.”
Torgin slid his pack off, pulled out his kcalo, and draped it around his shoulders. “So what do we do with these?” He held up the ankle length cords attached to the neck of his robe.
Ira twirled his over his head. “Yeah, Brie. What about these?”
“Get serious, Ira. We may not have much time. Watch. First you tie these three small ties to close the kcalo in front.” Brie demonstrated as she spoke. “You cross the cords over your chest, pull them around back and cross them again, then bring them around your waist, and square knot them to one side. There you have it.” She patted her completed knot.
Ira finished tying his cords and adjusting his kcalo. “Okay, Torg, time to ask for directions.”
Torgin glared at him. “Who made you the boss?” He turned his back on the tall boy and addressed Brie. “What do I ask? We don’t know the name of anything.”
“Wolloh’s place is called Shu Chenaro od DerTah.” Brie took a drink from her canteen and fastened it to the cord around her waist while Torgin pulled out the compass for the second time. “How do you know so much?”
“I like to read, Torg.” Brie grinned and shrugged her pack onto her back. “Go ahead, ask for directions.”
“Yeah, come on.” Ira nudged him in the ribs. “We need to go.”
“Cut it out, Ira.” He shot him a dirty look and slipped the thong over his head. “Say it again.”
Brie pointed at her shoe. “Shu.” She touched her chin. “Chenaro.”
“Here we go.” Torgin held out the compass. “Show us the safest way to Shu Chenaro od DerTah.”
Ira scowled, slapped the compass from his hand, and sent it flying over the sand. “Not the safest way, Drotti. We need to know the shortest way.”
Torgin’s face turned bright red. His palm smacked Ira in the chest. “Stop pushing me around. Stop telling me what to do. And don’t call me Drotti.”
Ira’s arm jerked back. A cacophonous shriek stopped his fist mid-way to Torgin’s chin.
Torgin swung around, wildly searching the dunes. “What’s that?”
“Down! Quick!” Brie dove for the sand and pulled Ira with her.
The compass forgotten, Torgin watched the celestial brilliance of the DerTahan sun push its blazing crest higher in the sky. Blistering heat poured down the side of the dune, chasing the shadows before it and bathing him in blinding light. The desire to hide surged through him. Paralysis held him still. Another shriek, closer and more heinous, drove the sweat on his scalp down his face and onto his kcalo.
“Torgin, get down.” Brie’s urgent call fell on dread-deafened ears. He remained standing, a beacon emitting a message of mortal terror.
Fiery red eyes rose above the dune and locked onto his. Taller than the tallest man, the ConDra soared upward. Its massive wings beat flames into a raging inferno that engulfed it from its snarling, beak-like snout to the tip of its long, lashing tail. A tongue of liquid lava licked the sand on either side of him. Sparks shot into the air and rained down around him. Higher and higher the creature soared. Torgin’s brain screamed, “It’s preparing to strike!” His body refused to respond.
Desert heat soaked through Brie’s kcalo and penetrated her skin. Next to her, Ira’s fear held him rigid. Hot air pounded their bodies. The sight of Torgin, frozen and staring, his skin russet from the intensifying heat, forced her to her feet. Slipping off her backpack and dropping her canteen to the ground, she raised her arms. The malevolent monster, lickerish and hungry, raged toward her, its mouth a gaping, fiery pit.
Some distance away, along the trough at the base of the dune, black eyes glistened in the red-brown face of an Atrilaasu Dansgirl. A creature of the desert, she had felt the arrival of strangers and anticipated their danger. Too late to help, she watched the Fire ConDra rise and prepare to feast on human flesh. Horror and heat burned her throat.
Beneath the blazing beast, a cloak-draped figure rose. Curls the color of the ConDra’s flame burst free of the kcalo’s hood. A feminine face emerged, glowing golden in the fiery light. Fragile arms reached out in supplication, an entreaty…a plea. The ConDra shrieked, lashed its lava tongue, and shot higher. The Dansgirl crouched lower in the sand and hid her face behind her hands. Another high-pitched scream raised the hair on her neck. She peeked through V’ed fingers. Her mind blanked and sputtered back to life.
The red-haired girl sung one high note that cut the air into vibrating frequencies. She grew taller, broader, and less distinct. Stretching her arms out to her sides, she arched her body and tipped her face to the heavens. Her features shimmered silver, morphing as glistening wings launched her skyward—a Water ConDra soaring above the dunes. Iridescent, liquid, and cool, she faced her conflagrant foe. Eyes the color of cascading water captured and held the Fire ConDra’s scorching stare. Fearless and frightening, they circled in the ravaging heat of the Desert of Fera Finnero.
Raging red and shimmering silver fenced—moving forward and back, parrying water against flame. A song flowed forth from the Water ConDra’s throat. She folded her wings and spun around herself until glittering droplets of water formed a halo of liquid diamonds around her. The Fire ConDra hovered, wings crackling and snapping. It whipped its tail in a blistering, hissing arc and soared upward, barely missing its aqueous adversary.
The Water ConDra swooped in a wide crescent until she seemed to stop mid air, shimmering red reflected in her outstretched wings. Again her throat opened. A song filled with the roar of water, free-falling through space and crashing on the shores of the world, shook the dunes and sent them rolling like waves before the wind. The Fire ConDra screeched in response and streaked upward. A shower of cascading
sparks sizzled and died. She rose to meet it. A glistening gem beneath the orange sky, she hovered, her wings undulating and wide. It charged.
Unwavering, she met the assault. Her clear, liquid wings wrapped around its fiery body. The death scream of the Fire ConDra filled the air as flames quenched in a hiss of heat against water sent a geyser of vapor into the orange sky.
Scorched, blackened bones plummeted toward the red sands of DerTah. With a final trembling cry, the Water ConDra landed and collapsed in the form of a girl into the waiting arms of her friends.
In the aftermath of the miracle, the Dansgirl fell to her knees and wept. Never had she seen a Fire ConDra fall from the sky. Never had she beheld anything so beautiful as the Water ConDra, nor heard anything so fearsome as its song.
The morning at Shu Chenaro arrived on the heels of scurrying servants who had spent the night preparing for Wolloh’s unknown guest. Esán rolled onto his side and plopped a pillow over his head. I start my training today and have slept less than a wink. A sharp knock brought him to sitting, the pillow clasped to his chest. “Come in.”
Seval peeked around the door.
“What?” Esán knew he sounded grumpy.
The boy flinched. “Master Wolloh asks that you join him in his private office for breakfast. Please wear your robe.”
“Thanks, Seval. I didn’t mean to grouch at you.” He glanced at the crumpled pile of scarlet and gold and grimaced. “I guess I should have hung it up last night.”
The servant slipped into the room. “I’ll press this.” He scooped it up and hurried away.
After the door closed, Esán padded to the window. Annoyed that he had no say in the planning of his life, he allowed himself a brief moment to savor the cool breeze of early dawn before he closed it and threw the lock. By the time he had washed and cleaned his teeth, Seval was back with the robe looking as good as new.
The boy seemed reticent to engage in conversation, so Esán refrained from asking the questions that buzzed around his brain. Why can’t I read your mind? What has torn your heart to shreds?
Holding the robe for him to step into, Seval’s face remained blank. For a split second, Esán was tempted to disobey Wolloh, but thought better of it. The High DiMensioner’s hands around his throat during the assessment remained a clear and present reminder of his power. “Thank you, Seval.” He turned and allowed the boy to put the gold sash around his waist. Stepping back, he said, “How do I look?”
“You look like a Tyro.” He smiled.
Rebellion tightened Esán’s jaw around the curse he wanted to shout. “What is a Tyro, exactly?”
“One who seeks hidden knowledge and learns.” The boy’s quiet response cooled his annoyance.
“I suppose I do seek knowledge, and I do want to learn.” He indicated the door. “We’d better go before I decide to play truant and really get myself in trouble.”
Nomed tapped lightly on TheLise’s door.
"Just a moment"
The thought in his mind was tantalizing—sensual. He masked his own thoughts and turned his back to the door, annoyed at being left to kick his heels outside her quarters.
When she finally stepped into the hall, he had to admit she had been worth the wait. “You look lovely, as always.” Her hunter green riding togs accentuated her perfect figure. “There is something about you in britches…”
“Behave yourself, Seyes.” Her smile lit her eyes. “Wolloh is waiting.”
“And if he weren’t?” He was surprised at the increase in his heart rate.
She took his arm and laughed the low sensual laugh that always made him squirm. “Today he is. Therefore, your question will have to remain unanswered.”
Footsteps behind them made them turn. “Ahhh,” she said. “Good morning, Esán. I gather from your robe that Wolloh intends to show you off today.”
“It does seem that way, doesn’t it.” Esán scowled.
Releasing Nomed’s arm, TheLise glided toward him. “Don’t take things so seriously. It is just a game, Esán. Don’t ever forget that.” She drew his arm through hers.
“It may be deadly in its intent,” Nomed remarked, “but as TheLise so aptly put it, it is still a game. Good morning, nephew.”
“Good morning, sir.” The rancor left his voice.
“Well now, we don’t want to keep Wolloh waiting any longer.” Nomed beckoned to Seval, who had remained unobtrusively quiet during their conversation. “Run ahead, boy, and tell Master Wolloh we are on the way.”
Under the desert sun, Ira’s arms formed a protective circle around Brie. The features of the Water ConDra lingering in the lines of her face gradually faded. He bent closer, scrutinized her pallor, the damp, red curls, and the sprinkling of freckles tiptoeing over her nose. Something stirred in his memory. Something… He shook his head. Tears spilled from his eyes and fell, mingling with the droplets shimmering on her cheeks.
“Did you see that?” Torgin said. “Did you see what Brie did?” He sank down on the sand beside her. “She shifted to a ConDra made of water.”
Ira held her closer. “She was so beautiful, and she saved us, Torg. She saved us from certain death.”
“Is she alright?”
“She’s breathing.” Ira stroked her cheek. “Brie, wake up. We need you, Brielle. Please open your eyes.”
As though emerging from a long, deep sleep, her breathing changed. From some unfathomable place, she released a sigh that shook her entire body. Her eyelids fluttered open. For a moment she gazed up at the sky, and then seemingly unaware of Ira and Torgin, she sat up and smiled.
“You don’t have to hide,” she said. “We won’t hurt you.”
Ira followed her gaze and stared.
A young girl rose from the sand several feet away. Eyes the color of coal darted from one boy’s face to the other and then to Brie. An intricately beaded band held thick, dark hair streaked with tangerine, back from a brown face that hinted at the red of the desert. Beneath her orange kcalo, her loose-fitting clothing blended into the sun and the sand. With a grubby hand, she scrubbed a tear from her cheek.
Torgin looked from the girl to Brie. “Who the—”
“My name is Brie. Do you understand?”
The girl knelt and bowed her head. “You ConDria. Please not hurt me.” The accented words were halting.
“What is a ConDria?” Brie’s words sounded soft as a summer song.
The girl kept her eyes lowered but peeked at Brie from beneath long, dark lashes. “Ancient stories tell of magic times. ConDra filled the skies. They killed our people. A ConDria rose—saved the ancestors. You ConDria…a girl who becomes a Water ConDra.” She touched her forehead to the sand and straightened.
Brie looked around at the scorched bones scattered down the slope of the dune. Her eyes sought out Ira. “Did I shift shape?”
“Into a ConDria. You were so beautiful and so terrifying.”
“And how did…” She indicated the bones.
“You wrapped your wings around the Fire ConDra.” Torgin threw his arms wide. “The fire went out with a gargantuan hiss, and the bones fell to the ground.”
“Talk about shape-shifting!” Ira laughed and then sobered. “Do you remember anything , Brie?”
“Only a delicious coolness flowing through my body. Then I woke up in your arms.” She looked at the desert girl. “What’s your name?”
“I tell name, you hurt me.”
Brie knelt in front of her. “I won’t hurt you, nor will my friends. Will you hurt us?”
“I no power.” She pointed at Brie. “I serve. Never hurt.”
Brie stood up and offered her hand.
The girl hesitated, wiped her hand on her cloak, and placed it in hers. As she climbed to her feet, sunlight glittered on an object that slipped from beneath her kcalo.
“Look! She has Mira’s compass.” Torgin started forward.
Ira caught hold of his arm.
Suspicion flashed across the girl’s face as she clutched
it in her hand. She tossed her head. “He fed to desert. It not belong to him now. Nichook, Atrilaasu Dansmen od DerTah, claims this desert gift.”
“It is not…” Torgin stopped when Brie eyes flashed to his face.
She looked back at the girl. “Nichook? Is that your name?” Her voice was gentle—soothing.
The girl placed her hand on her heart. “Nichi. Me called Nichi.”
Brie smiled. “What a beautiful name. Come with us, Nichi, and be our guide.”
“I keep gift.” Her dark eyes narrowed—watchful and suspicious.
Brie touched the Star of Truth. Ira read the message in her expression. “You can keep it if you dare,” he said. “It’s magic, you know. Only the one chosen by the Guardian of Myrrh can use it without fear of death.”
The Dansgirl looked from Ira to Brie to Torgin and back to Ira. “You lie.”
Ira shook his head. “As a boy who would like to be your friend, I tell you what is true.”
Nichi removed the compass from around her neck and held it out to Torgin. “You keep. I not ready to die.”
Torgin accepted the compass. “Thank you. I am very grateful to have it back, Nichook.”
The girl rubbed her hands against her kcalo and looked shyly at Brie. “We comrades now?”
“We are comrades, Nichi. This is Ira.” She squeezed his shoulder. “And this is Torgin, Bearer of the Compass of Myrrh.”
Breakfast with Wolloh… Esán looked across the table at the smooth-cheeked side of the High DiMensioner’s face as he flirted with the Dreelas TheLise…what an interesting pair . To his right, Nomed fingered his scar, a sure sign of his displeasure. The attraction between both men and the Dreelas had been apparent the first time Esán had seen them together. Now, listening to their back-and-forth banter over their breakfast of DerTahan fowl and desert fruit, he smiled.
“What’s up, boy,” demanded Wolloh. “Are you enjoying your breakfast or our most interesting conversation?”
The UnFolding Collection Two Page 10