by D. E. Morris
“They've come back to kill us,” someone wailed, only further confusing Cailin. She'd forgotten that she was still in her night shirt, tucked into the trousers she'd kept, and didn't have a weapon. Turning back, she looked for a head of cerulean hair among the crowd. “Elas! I need a sword!” As quickly as they could, both Elas and Wessely joined her, armed and ready with a sword for her as well, working together to move ahead.
Once they were finally free of the others, they raced through the hallway and outside, seeing the shadows of large winged animals flying overhead before they even saw the dragons. From another entryway, Cavalon and Jaryn came running outside with Connor and Gianara close behind. The seven of them moved into the bailey, looking up to watch the current of dragons that flew westward without so much as a glance down at the terrified people they rushed over. Kenayde seemed to appear out of nowhere, running to cling to Elas in fright.
“What is happening?”
“I don't know.” He held her close, but looked to Cailin. “What do we do?”
“They're flying toward Ibays!” Connor exclaimed, panic making his voice break. “They're attacking my kingdom now!”
“You have to follow them,” Ashlynn declared, coming out into the bailey with Rowan's hand in hers. Killian rushed out soon after, his eyes skyward, and found his daughter among the others to slip his hand into her free one.
The sound of the pan flute rang through the air, high and clear. It was so close that it knocked Ashlynn to her knees, gasping. Rowan let go of her father and wrapped her arms around Ashlynn, calling her name, crying for someone to help her. Kenayde and Cailin reacted similarly, both of them nearly fainting at the surge of power that rushed through them. Had Elas and Wessely not been there to catch them, they would have collapsed altogether.
Jaryn sped across the open space, continuously glancing upward to make sure he wasn't going to be attacked, and practically threw himself over his wife as though he could help her somehow. Killian pulled Rowan back, the little girl shaking in his grasp. “What's happening, Da?”
“I wish I knew, my daughter.”
All at once the music stopped, and the last of the dragons flew by in a few colorful stragglers. The sun shone high in the east as it continued to rise, clouds dotting the perfect blue sky with clusters of cheerful white wisps. It was as though it were any other day.
“Ashlynn,” Jaryn pleaded. “Love, are you all right?”
She couldn't speak for a moment, all of the wind having been knocked of out her. Jaryn pushed her hair from her face, pressing his hands to her cheeks to try to get her to look at him, but she was having trouble focusing on anything. What she felt had been so much more intense than before, and she was struggling to think through the haze.
Cailin was the first to recover, having built up a very small immunity to the songs of the flute. When she realized Wessely was the one holding her against him, cradling her like he was protecting her, there was a split second when she considered not even moving. Her sense of duty, however, made her stir in his arms and fight against the want to stay right where she was. “I'm okay,” she managed, trying to work the feeling back into her legs so she could stand on her own. “I'm okay.” Knowing Kenayde was close by, Cailin knew she needed to get to her and try to help, but glancing in the direction of where she knew them to be, she saw Gianara crouched beside Elas, trying to rouse Kenayde. Still, she took a step away and her knees gave out.
“Stubborn girl,” Wessely chided, irritation threaded in his tone. “Stay here.” She didn't fight him as he pulled her close once more. When she finally rested back against his chest, she felt his chin on the top of her head. In a quiet voice, he asked, “What was that?”
“It was the pan flute,” Gianara supplied glancing over her shoulder at him, no doubt her enhanced elven senses able to hear even his soft voice. Kenayde's lashes fluttered and she gasped as she came to, satisfying Gianara enough to let her rise. “It is a power poison to Gaels. The mere sound of it can drive a Gael to shift and obey commands, even if they have never done so before...that is, once they have built up enough of a resistance to withstand the initial surge.”
“Is that why it doesn't effect you?” Cailin asked, surprised at the weakness in her own voice.
“I have never been bothered by it. My elven blood, I assumed, was what protected me from the spell of the songs.”
Ashlynn's head began to clear, the conversation being held slowly leeching in through her haziness. She leaned her head against Jaryn, but her eyes were on Gianara. “We have heard that music before, but it did not disable us as greatly.”
Gianara looked skyward, gazing in the direction the dragons had flown. “That is not a song I have heard before.”
“Do you think they could be from the other island?” asked Cailin. The frown Gianara gave her was the only answer she needed. As happy as she would have been to stay right where she was, Cailin knew what she had to do. She looked up at Wessely, temped to touch his face and tell him exactly how she felt. Something within her worried that once she shifted and flew after the swarm of dragons, there was a good chance that she would not return. He didn't look away as she stared up at him, which only made her want to stay even greater. Yet when his lips parted, she pushed away from him to stand on her own two feet, abruptly cutting him off. “We have to go after them.”
“Cailin, you are not strong enough yet,” Wessely argued.
Her shrug in return was matched with a regretful smile. “I have to be.”
Misuzu came out from inside with Mairead and Lilia right behind her. Both of Ashlynn's ladies rushed to her upon seeing her crumpled in Jaryn's grip, but Misuzu only had eyes for Gianara. “Where are they going?”
The older woman shook her head. “I do not know. Those were not my dragons.”
“Da...” Rowan's sightless eyes went wide as she stared at nothing. She lifted her hands to rest on Killian's as they gripped her shoulders from behind. “Something doesn't feel right.”
“I feel it as well,” Misuzu murmured. “There's no more time. We have to follow them.”
“I'm coming, too!” Rowan insisted. She started to pull away from Killian, but he held fast to her.
“You will stay right here,” he argued.
“But, Da...I'm an Elemental! I can help. I have to help. It's part of my duty.”
Scowling, he crouched to pull her into a tight embrace. “Your duty is to be a nine-year-old child, not a warrior dragon.”
She let him hold her, but for only a second before she took his bearded face in her hands and kissed his cheek. “I'm a strong fighter. Elas has taught me so much. Please, Dhaide.”
“Coming or not,” said Misuzu harshly, “the longer we talk about it, the farther away they become.”
“They flew as if they were being summoned,” Cavalon pointed out.
“Indeed,” agreed Gianara. “There were riders on the backs of many of the dragons.” She looked to Misuzu. “Something tells me that if we follow them, we will surely meet your father. Are you ready for that?”
The younger woman's expression was carefully blank. “Yes.”
“Then let us go. All who may follow, be prepared. We know not what we hasten to – death, or victory.” She wasted no time and no other words, hurrying away from the others to shift and take to the sky. Wordless exchanges passed between those still left as Misuzu and Cavalon were quick to follow suit. Cailin looked at Mairead, and the young woman nodded. Together, they, too, joined the others in the sky when their own transformations were complete.
Leaving Kenayde in the hands of her father, Elas prepared himself to run out to the sea to be of aid. He and Killian stared at one another for a long moment, Killian torn between keeping his daughter safe and letting her go to do what he knew she must. Elas gave him a silent nod of encouragement, prompting Killian to squeeze Rowan close before letting her go. With Rowan's small hand in his, Elas disappeared inside the castle to take the path out the back gate that would lead them to
the ocean.
“What about you, love?” Jaryn helped Ashlynn stand, looking at her with question. “Are you feeling well enough to shift yet and join us?”
She paled. “Us? Jaryn, you can't go.”
“I have to. I have to see this thing through to the end. There was never a question about it. I was only wondering if you were coming with me.”
“I...I can't.” She looked down in shame, but Jaryn was quick to take her chin and make her look at him.
“Then stay here and keep everyone calm.” He kissed her fiercely before taking her in his arms and holding her close, as though trying to commit the way her body felt against him to memory. “I don't feel right about leaving you here like this, but I will be back. I promise you.”
Killian stood and met Jaryn's eyes over Ashlynn's head. “I am still bound by my word; I will keep her and the prince safe.” With a tightening of his lips, he added, “Please do the same for my daughter.”
“You have my word.” Letting go of his wife, he kissed her one more time, then let her go to pick up the sword Cailin had abandoned. He raced out into more open space and looked up, giving a high, sharp whistle.
“I'm coming, too!” Connor cried, quick on Jaryn's heels. Both Cailin and Gianara dove, Connor unable to stop his giddy laughter at being enveloped in Gianara's talons despite the seriousness of the situation. As they all rose into the sky, Ashlynn watched the way Jaryn crawled out from Cailin's talons and up her leg, expertly swinging himself up to rest between her shoulders before the entire group sped away.
“He is a different man,” said Wessely, wonder in his voice.
“They're all different,” Ashlynn corrected quietly. She looked at her father and her younger sister, awake but still a bit dazed from the look on her face. The thought of her husband rushing off to what was likely a battle while she stayed there was a shock of a role reversal, and it was twisting something inside of her. How could she possibly stay behind when the risk they were all taking was so great? With resolve, she took a breath and made up her mind. “Lilia, I want you to take my sister to her quarters. Papa, will you help calm everyone's nerves and get them back to their rooms? Assure them that we are not under attack and that Altaine is perfectly safe at the moment.”
“Of course.” He gingerly handed Kenayde over to Lilia, watching them go inside. “You should take to your quarters as well. I can handle everything that needs to be done.”
Her smile to him was grateful. “Perhaps I will. Thank you, Papa.” He kissed her forehead before leaving her in the bailey with Killian.
When he was certain they were alone, he asked, “What are you really going to do?”
Ashlynn took another deep, cleansing breath and turned to him with a grave expression. “I'm going to find a place where no one will see me, and I will try to shift. If I can manage it, I will join the others.”
“And if you cannot?”
She didn't answer right away because she knew what would happen. She'd stay in a hidden place and likely sob until there was nothing left in her. If she could no longer shift, then she would know her time as an Elemental was truly over, and that somehow, her gift had been passed unnoticed to her son. “If that is the case, then I will return to my quarters as my father suggested.” Already, she tried to steel herself against the disappointment that was possibly coming. She began inside, but stopped suddenly to look fully at Killian. “Whatever happens, my son is now your most important duty. See no harm comes to him by any measure.”
Killian bowed his head. “On my life, I swear it.”
For the quickest moment, she had the urge to reach out and touch his arm, to apologize for how terribly she had treated him these past months and to thank him for everything he had done, both seen and unseen. Yet there were always eyes on her, especially when Killian was in her company, and the last thing she wanted to do was help spread any further gossip concerning them. In the end, she folded her hands together before her and lifted her chin nobly. “Thank you, Lord Killian.”
He lifted his head enough to meet her detached gaze. “You need not thank me, Your Majesty. It is my deepest pleasure to serve you.”
She gave him no verbal answer, only held his attention a moment longer before taking her leave of him. Now her task was to find a way into the secret passages of the castle where she could easily make her way down below. With all the commotion, there was a good chance that the training rooms were unoccupied, as well as the wide opening below the castle where there was space enough for tall trebuchets and catapults to be wheeled out and brought down to the shores to be loaded onto war ships. That would be the ideal place to shift, with no attention on her.
It was easy to skirt the main areas of Altaine where most everyone had gathered, no doubt called there by Wessely and surely with Killian's aid. Not for the first time, she was glad she had memorized the map of the passage entrances long ago, though knowing how to get into them was one thing – navigating her way through them was entirely different. Slipping into a secret passage behind a fireplace that pushed into one of the many sitting rooms, Ashlynn instinctively tried to light the torches along with walls with her fyre. Nothing happened, of course, so she had to double back for a lantern. Soon enough, she was working her way deeper through the castle, always taking the paths that led down.
It felt like hours had passed before she came out behind a portrait in the hallway just atop the staircase that would bring her down below the knight's quarters. Every now and then she felt the pulse of pain in her abdomen, telling her to slow down, but it was hard to listen to her body. The longer it took her to shift, the greater the distance that was put between her and those she sought to follow.
“Hello?” she called, reaching the lowermost level. “Is anyone here?” Only her own voice echoing off the stone walls greeted her. Hastily, she extinguished her lantern and set it down, then gathered her skirts and rushed along to the cavernous exit. No one was about here, either, much to her relief. Just a year ago, she would have shifted then without hesitating, but fear paralyzed her now that the task was before her. What if nothing happened?
“Dear Giver,” she whispered, letting her eyes slide closed. “You know my heart and how much I love the abilities I have been gifted with. If You have seen fit to take that away from me...” She swallowed, trying to make her words earnest, but struggling to be sincere. “Help me to trust You. No matter what, help me to trust You.”
There was no more time to waste. Whether or not she would be able to transform, now was the time to find out. With a deep, calming breath, she concentrated on the memory of what it felt like to shift. Her muscles and bones always screamed at her in protest, though as the years passed, it had dimmed a bit and the pain was more tolerable. She pictured her arms lengthening, leg joints shifting and wings sprouting from her back.
All at once, she felt it. The wind was not as close to her skin as it had been, scales rippling over her like a rising tide. Her body grew, strong muscles stretching taught skin. A tail and wings sprang from her body at the exact same moment, and Ashlynn felt a cry of joy on her lips as she fell forward to her forelegs, her transformation compete. She had done it. She had shifted. Yet as she turned her head to look at her glorious golden body after such a long time, the joy turned to cold fear and confusion.
Before, she had been like the very sun itself, glittering in the light of day in golden sparks, her long body big enough to block the length of a city street. Now she was not even half that size, and her scales were a mottled green and muted yellow. She no longer looked like an Elemental. In fact, she no longer looked like herself. Instead, she looked like any other Gaelic earth dragon she had seen.
If she were human, she would have wept. Somewhere deep inside, however, a small voice reminded her that there would be time to mourn later. For now, she was still a dragon, and she had a battle to join. With a mighty flap of her wings, she leaped into the air and flew away, trumpeting a cry of sorrow as she departed.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
It was quiet on the island of Mirasean, even in the busy morning hours as the elves conducted their daily business. The elves had not the want for idle chatter and small talk most others did, choosing only to speak when it was merited and appropriate. When they passed one another there was always a formal bow of the head in acknowledgment, but little else ever passed between them unless they were engaged in an intentional interaction. Children, up to a certain age, were given more grace and freedom to play, chatter, and laugh as they wished, and it was only their laughter that could be heard among the trees.
The sun was not yet high enough to signal midday when a sound rang through the wooded island, breaking the accustomed stillness. It began as a murmur, a curious question passing softly between some of the elves who were gathered on the eastern shore to bring in the nets. A cloud had formed in the sky, growing darker and larger before their eyes. “Mani naa ta?” they asked one another, hoping at least one among them would know what it was that approached. “Mani naa tanya?” Though they all questioned what it was, none had an answer.
As they watched, they all began to quickly understand that what was coming their way was not a cloud, but a mass of flying bodies. “Ksher!” someone cried. The name humans translated into “evil ones” was repeated throughout the group with varying urgency. The elves were not overly fond of dragons, but as generations passed, some were more tolerant than others, especially after the wedding of one of their beloved own to an Elemental last year. This sudden appearance of so many of the ksher, however, was enough to frighten even the most tolerant. Certainly this was a harbinger of doom coming their way.