by Edun, Terah
By then, Vedaris had a huge grin on his face and had looped an arm around Maride’s neck as they walked. “That, my friend, is exactly why I need you.”
With a long-suffering sigh, Maride said, “You don’t actually know any of the answers to my questions, do you?”
“Nope!” came the reply. “Except that she was a woman who painted about two centuries before the Initiate Wars.”
Maride shrugged. “Very well, let’s start in the Art and Culture section of the Second Library.” And off they went.
As they stepped into the library, Maride noticed that the front desk was manned by a girl from his first class: The Art of the Librarian. Dreck, what’s her name? he thought furiously. Cassie, Clara….Callie! “Hello, Callie,” Maride said smoothly, as they neared the front desk.
“Hi Maride!” came her enthusiastic reply. She finished jotting down something and rose. “Anything in particular you’re looking for?”
“Well…”
“No,” interjected Vedaris quickly, “Just doing a little research for an art class.”
Maride cast him a quizzical look but asked her, “Where do you keep your texts from Sixth Century scholars?”
Callie pointed to the stairs and said, “Second floor, right wing. You’ll have to check in when you get there.”
“Sure, thanks!” came Maride’s reply as they walked away. To Vedaris, Maride muttered, “There’s this Sixth Century scholar named Barnabas who created an ever-expanding scroll of female…artists. It’s a good place to start finding information about Leanis.”
“Why the pause?” asked Vedaris.
“He was a noted womanizer,” replied Maride. “The only reason he created the list was to locate any artist who might pique his interest… and his artists included prostitutes.”
That elicited a laugh from Vedaris, “Oi! A man after my own heart.”
They soon located the Barnabas scroll. It lay on a wooden table off by itself and looked fairly innocuous until Maride tapped it. Then it flared with a green light, both ends of the scroll expanding to either side of the table. Maride got busy searching for a person named Leanis.
Towards mid-afternoon, Vedaris and Maride returned the gatehouse to hang out on the lawn with the others.
Sitara was curious to learn how they all had arrived at the Madrassa. “I know Vedaris and I were in the healer’s ward, and I was brought in by a group of friends…you guys. But the last two weeks before that is just a blur,” she murmured.
Sidimo angled his head as he sat back with a shrug, “How do you know that it’s just two weeks that you’re missing?”
Sitara replied, “Clan Feast Day was a bit more than two weeks before, and I remember being out in the night market with my sister. After that everything is fuzzy.”
“Fair enough,” replied Sidimo.”It wasn’t that eventful, really. Just before we found you, all I remember thinking is that the mountainside was coming down on us.”
“ Really, Sidi!” chided Allorna. “There were a few small rocks tumbling down the mountain, that was all. When we rounded the bend, there you were, slumped on the ground.”
“Bend? What bend?”.
Shifting anxiously, Maride muttered, “Near the Abbas gate? It’s where we came through.”
Sitara didn’t notice his hesitation, but Vedaris frowned, thinking, Hasn’t the Abbas been closed for decades?
“So the three of you came through the gate, and I fell down a cliff?” Sitara asked with exasperation.
“As far as we know, yes,” replied Allorna.
“Why don’t we go check out this cliff?” Vedaris suggested.
Sitara cocked her head and said, “You know, that’s not a bad idea. Maybe we’ll find some clues as to how I got there.”
Maride looked as if he were about to be sick.
“Good point. The Abbas gate isn’t that far away,” Allorna replied. So they got up—Maride reluctantly—and hiked out of the Citadel, then down through the town, retracing the steps of that fateful journey a few weeks before. They walked quietly, everyone drifting off into their own thoughts.
When they started up the white path to the ledge, Sitara and Vedaris, who hadn’t made that journey before (at least not consciously, in Sitara’s case), saw that trees and dead limbs partially obscured the area from prying eyes. When they arrived at the ledge, a trail of disturbed brush and dirt clearly marked the path of Sitara’s tumble. She remarked as she looked off to the right, “It looks like this ledge slopes upward. Mind if we follow it for a bit to see where it leads?”
No one minded, so they did, and soon came upon the Abbas portalway. Making only a few comments, they walked past it, continuing along the upward slope; it was curving back around the village toward the Madrassa. When they turned a sharp corner they found, to their surprise, the very edge of the Ameles Forest.
“This trail must curve all the way back around to the Gatehouse,” Maride pointed out excitedly. “Anyone up for a walk?”
Sitara was a little reluctant; she hadn’t found any answers to her quest. Vedaris, seeing her hesitation, offered, “I’ll tell you the story of how I got here.”
As they walked along the ledge, which soon turned to a dirt path bordering the forest, he spoke of the high winds, fierce rains, and tumultuous sea rattling his ship like a kitten batting around a spider as they closed on the Windswept Isles. “You couldn’t see anything!” exclaimed Vedaris, “Dark as an Ebon Dragon’s scales on a moonless night, it was. Except for occasional flashes of lightning, and then…the big one. The ship was riding the waves topsy-turvy, but all of sudden it felt like it was flying…well, flying and frying. I think a huge streak of lightning came down straight for the ship.” His hands stuffed in his pockets ,Vedaris said, “Next thing I know I’m waking up in the Madrassa ward with healers hovering over me.”
Sidimo whistled. “Wow! I’ve heard of cross-portal travel, but never anything like this.”
“Portal?” asked Maride. “Who said anything about a portal?”
“Logically, what else could it have been?” Allorna pointed out.
“Drugs,” muttered Maride, luckily not loud enough for Vedaris to hear him.
By this time, they were halfway to the school grounds. They began walking inside the forest proper after a magical barrier pushed them away from the village. The forest canopy lent a green tint to the air as they pushed through the dense underbrush.
Sitara frowned as she looked around. She commented, with a slightly disturbed look on her face, “We’ve been studying weather patterns and their effects on the landscape in one of my classes. Anyone else thinking this part of the forest is oddly…verdant?”
Allorna and Vedaris looked around, but couldn’t point to anything. Sidimo raised an eyebrow and said, “You mean the plants that don’t belong?”
“They’re magical, right?” said Maride, as his finger brushed a broad leaf.
“Yes, but it’s not just that. The climate near the Madrassa is hot, but not wet. Certainly not wet enough to sustain such a highly developed canopy and underbrush, even if this were second or third growth,” Sitara replied, as she traced a finger along one of the bright hothouse blooms surrounding them.
“Now that you mention it,” said Allorna, “It does kind of look like the rainforests of Sultur. Shouldn’t this be more…grassy?”
“Yes,” nodded Sitara. “The grass near the Citadel, while not sparse, is certainly less thick, and the trees should be pines and oaks…not these.” She waved her hand around to emphasize the strange flora.
Minutes later, they came upon a clearing, and stopped to look around. That was when Vedaris noticed a roundish indentation in the surrounding grove, and walked over to look at it. It was small, only a yard or so across, and dark. He couldn’t really see anything in it at first, though as he continued to study it, he realized that a small stone carving sat in the alcove. It looked like a woman. She was seated; time had worn away her features long ago, but
at her waist, wrapped around her almost, he noticed a lumpy form. “Hey, Allorna,” he called harshly, “I need your fire.”
“What, no pretty please?” she asked from the other side of the grove.
He pursed his lips in exasperation as he prepared to turn around, but the appearance of a blue ball of flame in his line of sight halted his tirade. With a gruff “Thank you,” he again turned to take in the statue.
It was just as he thought: another Dragon at the feet of a Human. As he studied it, looking for clan markings on the scales, Maride came up beside him. Frowning, he said to Vedaris, “Isn’t that the Wayfarer?”
Vedaris was silent, but Allorna said, to his left, “I think it is. One of the rarer portraits with Sahlias.”
By this time, Maride was kneeling on the ground, fingering the base of the statue. He could see a symbol etched into the stone; a maker’s mark, perhaps? “Sahlias?” asked Vedaris absentmindedly.
“The dragon,” Allorna said pointedly. “Legend says his name was Sahlias.” Before Vedaris could say anything, Maride interrupted with an “I knew it!”
“Knew what?” asked Sitara. She and Sidimo had been conversing quietly while studying the strange flora, arriving at the tail end of the conversation.
“The artist we were researching before,” he continued excitedly, “Her name was Leanis! She was famous in the Sixth Century for fantastical works centering on the Wayfarer.”
“And this Wayfarer was whom?” asked Sidimo slowly. Sitara shot him a surprised glance, but Allorna knew Sidi wasn’t much of a history person.
“She was the founder of the Madrassa and the Wayfarer principle,” responded Maride. “She was also said to have had a companion dragon.”
Vedaris practically snarled, “Dragons are not pets!”
Maride ignored his tone, but Sitara said reasonably, “No one ever said they were, but there are different types.”
Nodding, Sidimo contributed, “Kadari dragons and Sahelians are both dragonkin, but clearly divergent. Perhaps this one is similar to the Kadari, just smaller.”
Vedaris frowned and said no more. But he could tell: this dragon was similar to him, or at least him as he would be if he had a dragon form. It was clearly a Sahelian…and even worse, it bore the scale etchings of an outcast.
Chapter 19
Sitara frowned; Vedaris was obviously upset. His aura was spiking with red and black…and, well, he had that look on his face. Vedaris said abruptly, “Do any of you know anything more about this Sahlias person?”
Allorna raised an eyebrow and replied, “Just what every schoolchild knows.” For the first time, she began to wonder where Vedaris had come from. She knew about the ship, but where had he boarded…and how could not know about Sahlias and the Wayfarer? She recited aloud the story that every child knew, give or take a few words: “In the Sixth Century, there was a woman whose name has been lost to time. She grew up in a small valley, a butcher’s daughter. She thought that was all she’d ever be. She did her father’s bidding and flirted with the blacksmith’s son. Marriage was on the horizon…but one day, while hunting in the woods, she came across a dragon’s egg in the forest. That egg was Sahlias, and with him the Wayfarer was born.”
“That’s it?” cried Vedaris, “You told me more about the girl than about Sahlias!”
Allorna shrugged, “That’s all that’s really known. Records of her ascendance to Wayfarer status were lost in the Eighth Century.”
Maride asked, “Why does it interest you so?”
Vedaris opened his mouth to reply, then closed it abruptly. When he finally chose to speak he said, “The class I’m taking—we have to know as much as possible about the Wayfarer.”
Neither Sidi nor Sitara looked very convinced, but Allorna and Maride shrugged it off.
That was when they heard voices calling off to their right, accompanied by the sound of hoofbeats and a low rumble, as of wheels passing over a paved road. With glances at each other, they went off to investigate; and suddenly the trees changed around them, from dense rainforest to the thick conifers and deciduous trees of the royal forest. This time they all noticed the abrupt shift. Allorna frowned; she didn’t like this.
“It’s almost as if we went through a portal, just like getting into the Air Green,” Sitara whispered. She sounded loud in the sudden silence.
Sidimo nodded. “I think we did go through a portal!” responded Maride excitedly. “I felt all tingly!”
“So maybe that’s how we got to the Ameles so quickly,” growled Vedaris.
Hearing the voices again, they pushed on through the now-open forest, climbing a small hill. The noises were coming from the other side. Frowning, Allorna crept forward, motioning to her friends to stay quiet and low to the ground. They moved to the crest of the hill and peeked over. It was a convoy passing by—a wealthy one, by the looks of it. Allorna caught sight of flags flapping in the breeze and nearly groaned aloud.
It’s a royal convoy! she thought frantically. What are they doing here? Prince Sebastian isn’t supposed to arrive until late summer. Then she had an even darker thought: Are they here to arrest me? Maride, crouched by her side, was practically hyperventilating at the possibility.
Sitara began to ask a question and Allorna shushed her harshly. She motioned for them to lower themselves back down the hill. When they all reached the base, questions abounded in everyone’s minds.
*****
Sidimo, of course, had recognized the royal banner. His only concern was whether he’d be tried as a fugitive or an accomplice. Maride was practically whimpering as he crouched on the ground; he knew what his fate would inevitably be. Meanwhile, Vedaris and Sitara were looking at their frazzled companions with some confusion.
Allorna sighed and decided it was time to come clean. “They’re here to arrest us,” she said quietly. “Maride,” she said with a quick glance at the stricken boy, “Was accused of murdering his fiancé three months ago. He was imprisoned in a gardis tower. We… I”, she quickly corrected after a glance at the anger on Sidimo’s face, “believed he was innocent.”
“Hold it,” Vedaris commanded, raising a hand, palm outward. “You believe he’s innocent.”
Sitara commented faintly, as if slightly in shock, “I’ve been living with a murderer this whole time?”
“Oh please,” Sidimo growled. “You all know Maride as well as anyone by now! Do you believe he could possibly have murdered someone, even by accident?”
Looking almost as shocked at Sidimo’s defense of him as at Sitara’s comment, Maride protested, “Now hold on! I didn’t kill Damian—I had no reason to!”
Sidimo sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. “I believe you, Maride, I really do. But what evidence did they have against you?”
“Rumors and conjecture.”
“And that’s it?” asked Vedaris quietly.
“From some powerful people,” Maride added reluctantly.
“I know how that goes. But still, you could have said something before.” Vedaris glared around at all of them. “You’ve scared poor Sitara half to death. And now—”
At that moment, they all heard a disturbing noise; it sounded like a wounded animal. The keening sound came from their right, sudden and persistent but rapidly growing weaker. With wary glances at each other, they went to investigate.
It was a man with an arrow in his chest.
Sidimo swiftly moved in to aid him, but he could already see that the wound was practically beyond his abilities to heal. Pink-flecked blood gurgled from the man’s mouth; the arrow must have punctured a lung.
Allorna came forward, staring in shock—not at the man’s horrible wound, but at the badge at his waist. He was an Imperial watchman! Her father never sent them out except on matters of grave importance. She chewed her lip, a nervous tick that she thought she’d gotten rid of, but there was no other choice; even if the man was here to arrest her, she had to do her duty.
And besides, sh
e recognized him. His name was Mikkelwite, and he’d been a friend once.
She dropped to Sidimo’s side. “What can I do?” she asked.
Sidimo’s attention was focused on the wound. “I’m not sure if you can do anything. Or if I can,” the young healer said hollowly. “His heat level is dropping, and the wound needs to be cauterized.” He looked around. “Can someone come around and lift his head and shoulders? I need to stop the rush of blood to his head and see the wound properly.” At least, he thought that was what he should do.
Maride paled at the idea of all the blood, but Sitara rushed forward to do as instructed. Sidimo gave her a quick smile and said, “Now we need to stop the flow of blood from the arterial veins out of the chest wound. Vedaris, come over here, please.”
As the young Sahelian responded, Sidimo directed him to kneel over the unconscious man’s torso. Sidimo said, “I’m going to need you to pull out the arrow while I stop the blood loss.” Vedaris gave an affirmative nod as he stared down at the wound. The torn and bloody flesh didn’t bother him; he had seen much worse on the streets. Absentmindedly he muttered aloud, “What’s all this black fog I see?”
Sidimo directed a sharp look at him and said, “Where?”
“Around the wound,” said Vedaris. “It’s spreading.”
Meanwhile Maride, not wanting to be useless, had taken up vigil close to Sitara, but staring outward at their surroundings, keeping watch. He commented quietly, “He’s going to be out for a while. There’s something affecting his mind…like a drug.”
Allorna, on the opposite side of the fallen watchman’s body from Sidimo, turned to Maride and asked, “What do you mean?”
Maride hesitated to tell her; he really hadn’t wanted anyone to know that he could do this, but he said, “I, I can feel the edge of his thoughts, okay? He’s deeply unconscious.”
Allorna cast Maride a sharp glance, but decided to discuss his newly discovered mind-reading abilities at another time.
As a Deathkeeper, Sidimo could tell that poison was flowing into the wound; he even knew how long it would take before the man’s system shut down. But he couldn’t see the poison…though perhaps Vedaris could. As he prepared to close off the ends of the torn veins around the wound, Sidimo asked Vedaris to show him how far the black fog had spread.