Reborn (The Dragons of Cantor Book 1)

by Lela Robichaux

He found a bit of glass and placing it in a bowl with a pinch of powdered steel, he took a deep breath and started reciting the words that would tell him where Jost’s powerful weapon was located. The essence of the godly weapon could be traced through magical means. To track the man would require the blasted crystals that seemed to be in short supply around this priestly commune; a prison, it felt to Rekho.

  He could feel the weapon’s presence, but it was veiled. Like a thin fog surrounding the weapon. It must be inside the Caverns, Rekho thought, otherwise I would see it clearly. Something was blocking the strength of the magic.

  To do more would require the damned crystals. Each spell required a certain stone, but a farthen crystal could be used for just about anything. It could be substituted for many spells. It was an invaluable magical anchor. He had to have those crystals!

  He turned to the priest that still hovered near the doorway, ready to run at a moment’s notice. “Inform the Elder, I will leave at dawn for the Caverns.”

  The other’s eyes widened. “Th-the Elder?” He swallowed hard. One more look at Rekho and he choked back any protests he may have had. Backing slowly out the door, he said, “As you wish, sir.”

  Rekho turned his attention back to the room. He scanned the small chamber, littered with paper, books and nubs of candles. His eye stopped on a small leather-bound tome. Taking it in his hands, he let his fingers brush over the slightly raised lettering on the front, The Princess of Orphana.

  It was her favorite. Mey would have him read it over and over when she was avoiding sleep. Of course, he would oblige. He could never deny her anything, his sweet tae’wa. She would snuggle close to him and before he finished the second time through, he would hear her soft snores. A smile played at the corner of his lips. Slipping the book inside his tunic, next to his heart, he continued gathering what he would need for the trip to the Caverns of Endless Time.

  An hour later he sat waiting with an entourage of priests that were to accompany him. His scowl deepened when the prisoner was brought to meet them. “Why does he need to come?”

  One of the priests looked at Rekho. “This one is to die. The Elder has decreed we take him to his fate at the Caverns.” The priest’s eyes hardened. “It was ordered.”

  It would definitely slow them, but how could he argue with an order from the Elder himself? Rekho shrugged. “I hope he can keep up.” With that, he turned and set a quick pace for the march, the prisoner and his keeper stumbling behind.

  **********

  Mey felt groggy as she sat up. A dream? She had dreamt of her father. It had felt so real. So real, in fact, she had the overwhelming urge to cry. Vaguely, she started to recall something about trees.

  Slowly, movement and voices came into focus around her. She must have slept right through her watch. Why wouldn’t Durlag have wakened her?

  “Meylaran?” Bob’s voice broke through the veil of sleep that clouded her head.

  “I just had the strangest dream,” she said, putting her hands to her head. “About my father.”

  “Did he say anything?” Bob knelt before her, concern etched his face.

  She was confused at his reaction. Confused at everyone’s reactions, for that matter. “He was saying goodbye. That’s all I can remember.”

  Their glances told her that something more was going on here. “Why?”

  Elerbee finally broke his silent brooding. “We have to hurry.” Looking at Bob, he said, “Didn’t you say the trees told you that Shadow Guard were here? In the forest.” He wiped his hands continuously on his white robes.

  Looking to her uncle, she concentrated hard on her memories. They were talking to the trees, she did remember that. But when was it? Everything was all jumbled out of place. She shook her head slightly, trying to clear it of the fog that didn’t want to dissipate.

  “Come,” Bob offered his hand. “We have to go.”

  As she got to her feet, she repeated, “It was so real.”

  Bob smiled at her. “I know. We can talk about it all later, but right now, Meylaran, there are Shadow Guard coming. We have to leave.”

  The sleep-fog was slowly falling away and she could think more clearly. Yes, she remembered the trees had told them about the Shadow Guard. Looking over to the tree she had communicated with, she was a bit surprised to find them bent, lower than before. Like a protective canopy over their little group.

  They’re shielding us. Her amazement was complete when a path opened up before them as the limbs closed in behind. She was jostled into the middle of the line, with Elerbee and Bob leading, Thom and Durlag bringing up the rear. All around them, she could see a faint outline of glowing light. Elerbee’s armor, she thought.

  Something felt very out place, however. The forest was thinning as they sped through to find an exit. Mey’s mind kept going back to the dream of her father. He had told her to stop her quest. That she was in danger if she did not. Was that true or was it just her own fears coming out in her dreams?

  As they came upon a clearing, the trees moved aside and they emerged onto rocky ground. All of a sudden, the feeling that something wasn’t right made sense. It wasn’t right. It should have been daylight; the bright, round ball of the sun should be shining brightly. Instead, as Mey looked around, darkness flooded this clearing. Looking up, she squinted at the dim light from the moon.

  Glancing at one another, all of them clearly confused, Thom said, almost in a whisper, “The first sign.”

  THIRTEEN

  “What do you mean?” Mey demanded. “What sign?”

  Moonlight flooded the earth in a soft veil. Morning should have broken well over an hour ago. She turned toward the forest behind her, wondering what was happening, as the limbs closed in on the retreating path.

  Mey looked first to her uncle, who wore the same confused expression likely reflected on her own face, then to Thom who had muttered something about a sign.

  “The prophecy,” Thom said, turning to her.

  “Again with this prophecy.” All this vague information was really becoming annoying. “Enlighten the rest of us.”

  “There will be three signs foretelling the dragons’ return. Unending darkness will fall upon the world. The next will be continuous light.” He paused. Mey’s tapping foot propelling him into rapid speech. “Finally, when all is ready, the stars will align to create a path; a doorway back to this world where they will explode into being as they enter.”

  She had to admit the last part had her curious to know more. “Will they all come through at once?”

  “No one really knows,” he said. “I have read books on the account, but they are just guessing. The only thing we know for sure is it will be a wondrous sight to behold.”

  Smiling despite her irritation, Mey said, “You make it sound amazing.” Her heart raced at the thought of finally encountering her ancestors.

  “Mey, it will be beyond our greatest imaginings.” As she looked into those frosty blue eyes that always seemed to pierce right through her, he took her hands and his smile widened. It was dazzling and full of…what? What was he feeling? Damn this dragon blood. With all the tumultuous emotions, she could never quite read other people correctly. Looking away, she broke the spell of his gaze before it could capture her. His smile disappeared almost instantly.

  Slowly, she loosed her hands from his firm clasp. Catching her fingers before she could break contact, he forced her to look at him again. “It will be incredible,” he whispered.

  She caught a fleeting emotion pass through his features. He released her hands but kept his eyes on her.

  She hesitated, cleared her throat. “So, we continue on?” When no one protested, she continued, “The Dahrst Hills can’t be more than a few hours away. We have to cross them to get to Sorga and then to the Faery Isles.”

  They each fell into step behind her, weapons at the ready.

  **********

  Misty rain began to fall as the group marched toward the Hills, making the rocky path slick. Ever
y step had to be carefully placed; Mey had already fallen twice, cutting and scraping her palms on the small stones littering the pathway. One gash in particular was deep and throbbed with every step. Ignoring the stinging pain, she gripped her daggers tighter.

  Elerbee made his way to her. “Mey, let me heal you.” Blood ran down her fingers, mingled with rainwater and fell in drops on the path.

  “I’m fine, thanks.” She had suffered worse wounds and lived.

  “This blood will leave a trail for any beast of prey that might be following us,” he insisted.

  She stopped abruptly. Elerbee took another two steps before he realized she wasn’t beside him. Thom bumped into her from behind.

  Looking closer at Elerbee, she noticed he was bone-dry and seemed very comfortable in the damp, chill rain. “Wha-?”

  His answer was quick, as if he knew the source of her confusion. “The robes,” he explained. “They keep me safe from the elements.” He shrugged and reached for her hands.

  Mey let him grasp her cold fingers. Amazed at his warm, dry touch, she knew he truly was totally protected from the elements around them. He turned her palms up to examine the cuts that were filled with debris from the road. Elerbee grimaced at them.

  “These are filthy.” He muttered. “It’s a wonder infection hasn’t already set.” He rubbed them lightly with his thumbs, she winced at the stinging pain. Concentrating on one at a time, he closed his eyes and asked his god for the gift of healing that would make her whole once more. Elerbee’s soft touch and the reverence on his face was entrancing. His brow wrinkled with concentration.

  Mey felt a fluttering grow within her belly; she tore her gaze away from his face and looked down. The bleeding stopped instantly and the ragged skin knitted itself together under his gentle grasp. She let out a soft gasp of surprise. The pain was fading rapidly and her mood felt lighter. As if a great burden was lifting from her soul. His god, she realized. The peaceful feeling was all-encompassing.

  Elerbee quickly healed her other hand. She admired his devotion to a being he couldn’t see or touch and was compelled to understand it further. As she put her healed palm to his cheek, he smiled at her. His skin was warm, dry, smooth and perfect. He literally glowed with divine energy. His brown eyes sparkled and were full of understanding.

  Thom cleared his throat. “We should move on.” As he passed, his icy glare lingered on Elerbee.

  Elerbee reddened as he took a step away from Mey, breaking her touch. He worried his robe, nervously picking at the invisible lint that seemed to habitually plague him.

  As they made their way toward the Dahrst Hills, the rain strengthened and lightening skirted the clouds hanging in the sky.

  How long would they be inundated with night? Already Mey was confused as to the natural time of day. Her body was sore from the strenuous march. She wanted desperately to lie down and let the rain sing her to sleep.

  There was no shelter between here and the Hills, only the rocky slopes of the terrain with little to no plant life to speak of. Bleak, gray and now miserably cold. Mey was soaked and the cold seeped right through to her bones. She shivered.

  “Cold?” Thom asked.

  She nodded, lips trembling; she couldn’t speak without great effort.

  “Here,” he offered his cloak. It was dry. She looked at him in surprise. “A spell. The cloth can be protected from soaking up the water.”

  “Y-you had th-this ability the whole t-t-time?” Her teeth were chattering furiously and getting words out was difficult. But the nerve! How could he not have shared this earlier?

  “I put the spell on the cloak before we ever left Seaside. I didn’t know for sure we would run into rain.”

  Mey was beginning to warm up, but no matter how grateful she was for the thoughtful gesture, she was still mad. If he could do this once, surely he could have done it for the rest of them. When she looked at her friends, they were all soaking wet and looked miserable.

  “And you don’t feel compelled to share now?”

  He sighed deeply. “Mey, I only had one stone to cast this spell. I am not prepared. If we can find more limestone, then, yes, I will share.” His voice was rising. She could see that he was becoming irritated but she didn’t care. Damn him, she was getting mad.

  “Perhaps you could consider ‘protecting’ the others in your company next time.” Blood was roaring in her ears and she had no idea why this made her so angry but it did. She wasn’t about to let it go without a fight.

  His pace started to quicken and Mey doubled hers to stay with him. He wasn’t running away this time, she would make sure of it.

  “Oh, yes, and perhaps I’ll read the future every time I make decisions to journey with temperamental women so that they will never become unhappy,” his teeth were gritted together as he spoke. Water plastered his hair to his head and ran in rivulets down his face.

  She realized all of a sudden what she was doing. He was sacrificing his own comfort for her and here she was chastising him for it. What’s wrong with me? A profound thought came to her just then. He is not running away from me; I am pushing him.

  “Can’t you just appreciate the gesture and say thank you?” His voice had softened somewhat, to a defeated tone.

  “Th-thank you,” she stammered.

  He walked beside her for a moment longer. His face was etched with fatigue. He nodded, eyes lingering on hers for only a brief moment before he dropped back to move in behind her.

  Was it sadness that she always saw when she looked in his eyes? There was always something more beneath the surface. He was hiding it carefully. This miserable atmosphere let it slip out and she saw it plainly. She had to get her emotions in check. She couldn’t keep treating her friends as though they were targets for her poisonous emotional arrows. He had every right to be sad.

  **********

  The rain eased and a thick fog rose from the earth. It swirled at their feet and clung to their ankles as they walked. They had to slow their march, not being able to see anything past a few feet.

  “We are here,” Bob announced.

  “How can ye tell? I can’t see me own hand in front of me face!” Durlag was trailing at the back of the small group.

  “Can you not feel it? The air is different.” Bob turned around trying to see past the fog.

  A low moan sounded in the distance behind them. Or was it in front? The sounds confused Mey’s senses and the darkness already set her body’s clock in the wrong direction. She felt lost in chaos. Another moan sounded, closer this time.

  “Shouldn’t we keep moving?” Mey asked suddenly. Something was urging her not to stop.

  “Wait,” Elerbee said, coming to a central point between them. He kneeled and bent his head reverently. Praying to Sirrah, he asked the god to give him the power to shield against the undead creatures.

  Mey listened carefully. Light spread from the symbol at the base of his neck and moved outward toward the rest of them, like a blanket covering from head to toe. He rose, smiling that warm and comforting smile. “Now,” he said, “we can go. The protection only lasts a little while.”

  “We should cover one another,” Bob said. “Meylaran, you are in the middle.”

  She rolled her eyes, but moved between the others as he suggested. She was a bit tired of being protected. It made her feel like a child who could not take care of herself.

  They moved cautiously. Noises sounded from all directions: moans, screams, muffled voices, swords ringing as if locked in battle. Every so often, Mey would catch a face out of her peripheral, but when she turned to look, there was nothing.

  After all of them had asked “Did you see that?” or “Did you hear that?” at least a hundred times, they quit asking. It was apparent that they were not all hearing or seeing the same thing. They pushed on, trying to ignore the unnerving, ghostly clamor.

  Rock rose higher on either side of them, creating a path etched out of the very hills. At best they had traveled for at least an hour when El
erbee called a halt. “The shield is fading. I will try to bring up another but be prepared, the spirits will be able to reach you until I do. Do not look directly at them.”

  Swallowing hard, Mey tried to speak past the fear forming like a fist in her chest. “The-the faces I keep glimpsing...they’ll get closer?”

  “Yes.” Elerbee’s eyes darted all around. “This shield will be weaker and won’t last as long but, I have a few other spells that will aid us.” Turning to address the group as a whole, he said, “Weapons are pretty much useless at this point. Unless they have some sort of magical property.” His stare came to rest on Mey, slid to her hip where the bone-handled dagger hung.

  Did he know it was magical? How? She wanted to ask, but at that moment, he whirled, shouting. A glow emanated from his extended hands and shot forward, finding solid purchase on a form that appeared right behind him. Mey watched wide-eyed as the form hissed, broke into tiny droplets like dew and slowly fell to the ground.

  Without hesitating, she took the bone-handled dagger from her hip, feeling helpless and completely at someone else’s mercy. A very unsettling feeling for her. Durlag cursed a stream of colorful words that, even in the tension of this moment, had her smiling. The only thing magical he possessed was the flask. Thom had his spells, Elerbee his divine intervention and Bob had a sword from the elven homeland. Elves inherently possess a degree of magic that seeps into all they do; weapon-making included.

  They circled Durlag and her, the two most vulnerable. Mey closed her eyes, drawing on the power of the dagger and calling up the sentient being within it. The image formed behind her closed lids, revealing shimmering, royal blue scales and golden, luminescent eyes. Makagesh breathed a contented sigh and asked, “Why do you call me, sister? You have spent so long pushing me away.”

  She communicated her thoughts to the dragon. I have need of you now. We will work together or I will put you back into your slumber.

  “Oh, very well,” Makagesh grumbled. “What is our purpose?”