Dragon Dawn

by Mark E. Cooper

  “Only one way to find out,” she said grimly. She reached for the pattern held within the fire spells roaring around the ward, and twisted.

  The patterns shattered. They slipped from her grasp as the spells disintegrated into meaningless chaos. The pressure upon the ward vanished. Julia smiled grimly. She dropped the ward, ignoring the shocked oaths of Mathius and Lucius behind her, and reached for the mill.

  A pinprick of light, as bright as the sun and just as hot, flared to life. It expanded in the blink of an eye and the mill disappeared in a flash of white-hot light. A moment later, the roar of a mighty explosion reached her along with the pressure wave. It threw her and all those standing nearby onto their backs, killing men and horses indiscriminately. Devans and Clansmen fell before it, some lived by the grace of the God. Many did not. Horses and men died by the score, thrown hundreds of yards from where they had stood. Every window in the town shattered, and buildings shook on their foundations.

  Julia lay still, blinking at the mushroom-shaped cloud looming over her. “Oh my God.”

  * * *

  20 ~ Hard Truths

  A servant hurried up to Julia, offering food.

  Julia shook her head and waved the woman away. She was not hungry for food, never was anymore. Her hunger could only be satiated by magic. She sighed, feeling bone tired, and wished for sleep without dreams, but that was another thing denied her. She took solace from her magic. It sweetness sustained her; its chained ferocity empowered her, filling her head with its constant roar. She left the hall, not waiting for Lucius and Mathius. She didn’t feel like talking about today’s disasters. She made her way up to her rooms thinking about what had happened and how to fix the downside. She snorted. Killing hundreds of people—thousands?—was a downside now, was it? Hundreds on her own side was just a downside?

  “You’re insane,” Julia whispered. “They’re right about you. You are insane.”

  She knew what people were saying behind her back. She knew they thought her mad, but she wasn’t, not yet at least. She wasn’t that far gone. Worrying about it surely proved that much. She was driven, and that made her strong; perhaps too strong. She frowned at the thought. Breaking the pattern held within a single brick had caused that explosion. Just one brick. No matter how it had seemed with that mushroom-shaped cloud hanging over her, she hadn’t nuked the mill—an explosion that big would have killed everyone in the valley. The lack of fire proved it beyond doubt, didn’t it? The explosion had just been big, very big. What would have happened if she had used the entire wall? She shuddered. No one would have survived it.

  Julia stopped near a window and peered outside. The fighting had ended and the clean up was well under way. Clean up, what a terrible way of describing the burial of dead men and women. A crater had replaced the mill and its pond. The explosion had destroyed the mill’s head gate, allowing the river to fill it, making a new lake. She had invented something terrible when she made that lake—this world’s first weapon of mass destruction. If the sorcerers figured out how she had done it… she shivered. That must never happen.

  Julia entered her rooms, and crossed the empty sitting room to her bedchamber. Shelim was sitting cross-legged on the floor, waiting for her.

  “There are chairs here, Shelim. You don’t have to sit on the floor.”

  “We need to talk.”

  Julia sat on the edge of the bed and watched Kerrion sleep. The scars made it look as if his face had melted. She forced herself to accept his terrible scars, and tried to console herself with the knowledge that he would be all right. Shelim had healed him; the scars looked years old. He would need to do something about the eye, an eye patch to cover the empty socket maybe, or a glass eye. Were there such things here?

  “We need to talk, Julia,” Shelim said again, more insistently.

  She sighed. “Now? Can’t we just sit here and watch him for a little while?”

  “This is too important. Kerrion will understand the need.”

  “I suppose,” Julia stood and went back into the sitting room. She collapsed into a thickly padded armchair opposite the door to her bedchamber. “Leave the door open. I want to see if he wakes.”

  “I was going to,” Shelim said, and settled himself cross-legged at her feet. “The first thing you need to know is that Kerrion knew this day would come. It’s not your fault, not only yours.”

  “He knew?” Julia whispered, shocked to the core. “Why didn’t he tell me? He nearly died! All of us nearly died!”

  “When I was still Kerrion’s apprentice, he made me recite my dreams to him every morning. You know about my visions. I have true dreams most nights, not all of them are about the war. Some of them are about the past, some about a distant future I barely understand. Kerrion was always interested in anything I learned about you, but there was one dream that made him question me over and over. It was my dream of this day.”

  “How could you let him get hurt?” Julia said angrily. “How could you do that to him?”

  “It was easy. We knew that if he did not play his part, you would die.”

  Julia swallowed. “He foresaw my death today?”

  “Both of us have seen it many times, but that’s not important. Our future, the future of the clans, is linked with yours and Deva. We travel the same path into the future… at least we do for a time.”

  Julia’s eyes narrowed. What the hell did he mean by that? “Will Mazel lead the clans back north? Will he abandon the fight before it’s over?”

  Shelim sighed. “I’m not here to talk about Mazel’s plans. They are his to reveal. Listen carefully, Julia, this is more important than Mazel. Kerrion knew what would happen today. He told me he would survive it, but I knew that part already—I’ve seen him scarred and half blind in my dreams many times. He told me to tell you not to try what you’re planning.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes you do, or you will before the day is out. He said you will try to unmake Navarien. Don’t!”

  “Unmake?”

  Shelim looked away. “Kill. I mean kill.”

  Julia frowned. “You didn’t say kill, you said unmake.”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “Is it?” Julia asked, trying to fathom what Shelim was hiding from her. “Is it really?”

  Shelim sighed. “What you did today is called unmaking. It’s what you will call it in the future. I heard you in my dreams.”

  “I did, I mean will?”

  Shelim nodded, reluctantly. “I won’t tell you about it, Julia, so don’t ask me. I swear it has nothing to do with the war, not this war.”

  Unmaking? She supposed it was as good a name as any. She had unmade the sorcerer’s spells by breaking their patterns. Doing the same thing to the mill had caused a different and more energetic result. The sorcerer’s spells, unlike the mill, had been immaterial things and made with magic. Was that why they reacted differently? She didn’t know, but the difference was important. Setting limits and knowing what they were, always was.

  No matter, she couldn’t unmake things at a great enough distance for it to be useful. She certainly couldn’t use it in battle to unmake General Navarien’s men, not and have anyone on her side survive it. That seemed obvious after what happened with the mill. If unmaking one brick caused such an explosion, just imagine what unmaking a thousand men would do, or ten thousand!

  “What else did Kerrion say?”

  “He said trying to kill Navarien would lead to your death. He said if you die now, we would lose the war before winter comes, and within five summers, the clans would cease to exist beyond a few scattered tribes. Is that clear enough for you?”

  Julia nodded thoughtfully. She would willingly trade her life to kill Navarien, but not if it meant leaving her friends to die. They were all that kept her here. One day, after they won the war, she could let go, but not yet. Not yet.

  “I understand you, Shelim. I’m not stupid. I know I can’t use unmaking
to win the war. I knew that when I first realised what I had done at the mill.” The destroyer of worlds… but not this world, she vowed. “I’ll find another way.”

  “What way?”

  Julia stood and headed for the door.

  “What way, Julia?”

  She looked back. “Stay here and look after Kerrion. I’m going to talk to Larn.”

  Shelim stood. “I could come with you.”

  “I don’t need you, but Kerrion does!” Julia snapped, and then took a deep calming breath. “I can find Larn without you. Stay here in case Kerrion wakes.”

  Julia tried not to slam the door on the way out.

  She found Larn, as expected, in his tent using his mirror to spy upon her rooms. She caught a glimpse of Shelim sitting on the floor near the bed talking quietly to Kerrion. The old man seemed to be still asleep.

  “You heard?”

  Larn nodded and put his mirror away.

  “What is he hiding from us?”

  Larn smiled wryly. “Could be any number of things, we all have secrets.”

  Julia sat cross-legged before Larn, and raised a ward against scrying. Larn wasn’t the only one who used his mirror to pry into her life and doings, though he was the only one she actively abetted. She often asked his opinion about events, and always forgot to raise a ward when she wanted him to know something. Larn was useful to her. He was eldest after Kerrion, and although nearly the same age, they saw things very differently. She often went to him when Kerrion was being purposely obtuse. In this case, Shelim was to blame for her need of Larn’s services.

  “Have you seen anything of what Shelim mentioned?”

  “He is a strong dreamer, Julia.”

  Julia frowned. “That wasn’t a no, Larn.”

  “No,” he agreed. “I have seen some of the same things. Not in the same detail, I’m sure. Our visions are strange things, Julia. Often as different from each other as those who dream them. We ask different questions of ourselves, and shape our dreams into different answers. Then we interpret them,” he snorted, shaking his head. “We force them to give us an answer that we can understand, whether it’s there or not.”

  “I need answers badly. True answers to important questions.”

  Larn nodded. “What questions?”

  “How to win the war for one.”

  “Too vague, there could be many answers.”

  “Any of them will do.”

  Larn shook his head. “You don’t mean that, Julia. Would you want to win at the cost of your friends’ lives? It’s not as easy as you make it seem.”

  Julia sighed and rubbed her face vigorously. “All right, Larn. What is the right question?”

  “I would be blessed by the God if I knew. We, shamen like Kerrion and the others, have spent our entire lives asking questions of our dreams, yet here we are. If we had known a way out of this mess, don’t you think we would have used it?”

  “I don’t know, would you? Kerrion is fond of talking about destiny. If the clans were destined to go through this… mess—you called it—so that they could emerge out the other side stronger than before, do you think Kerrion would let you divert them?”

  Larn’s face darkened. “Your paranoia will be your undoing, Julia.”

  “Don’t I have a right to be paranoid? Shelim knows what is going to happen, but he—”

  “There are many paths!” Larn broke in.

  Julia ignored him and forged ahead. “He won’t tell me what I need to know. I need your help.”

  “You have my help. You have everything the clans can give. What else is there?”

  “Tancred.”

  Larn’s face paled. He shook his head wordlessly.

  “Come on, Larn. I can ask another shaman. Hell, I’ll steal some if I have to.”

  “It’s much too dangerous, Julia, Tancred is poison to you. You nearly died, woman!”

  “But I didn’t die, and I won’t this time… unless you have seen me die? Have you seen it, Larn?”

  Larn licked suddenly dry lips.

  “Have you?” Julia asked, chilled by his reluctance to answer. “You have, haven’t you?”

  Larn nodded reluctantly. “It… I saw you die after using it. Not all paths are the same. I saw you use it alone in your room and fail to wake. Another time I saw Kerrion help you and you died screaming in agony.” Larn’s voice lowered to the barest whisper. “Once, I saw you here in my tent like this…”

  Julia’s thoughts raced. “I swear to you, if you don’t help me I will do it alone.”

  Larn nodded. “That’s what you said. Those exact words.”

  “And I lived afterward, right?”

  Larn shivered.

  “Right?” Julia pressed.

  Larn looked at her bleakly and shook his head.

  * * *

  21 ~ The Gate

  Keverin arrived at Wardenvale with his handful of men in the middle of an attack. The sounds of battle were all too familiar to him now, as were the explosions he associated with magic. He galloped across the lowered drawbridge and through the gates ignoring the sentries who attempted to question him. He dismounted, and with Brian and Lorcan at his back went straight away to the keep looking for Julia.

  A maidservant rushed by as he entered and he put out his arm to stop her. “Where is Lady Julia?”

  The woman shook her head and rushed away.

  Keverin scowled, and began opening doors looking for someone in authority. The keep was much smaller than Athione of course, but there should have been more people than he found in his wanderings. Those few people he did find did not know where Julia was.

  Keverin stopped and turned to Brian. “Send Burke and the others to find Marcus. I want to know our situation here. I’ll join him as soon as I have spoken with Julia.”

  Brian nodded and went to give Burke and his men their orders. They had not yet unsaddled their mounts, and were waiting patiently in the stable court ignoring the questions aimed at them.

  “The woman’s quarter, m’lord,” Lorcan suggested.

  “Good thinking,” Keverin said. Although he doubted Julia would be there, Lady Direlle should be able to direct him. They had not yet reached the tower steps when someone called his name.

  “Keverin!”

  * * *

  Julia snarled and ripped at the fabric of the world. Shelim shook with the effort of feeding her power through the link. The others sank to their knees groaning. He would not submit to the urge to do the same, but it was hard. The pain... the burning as the power raged through him was beyond anything he had ever known.

  He sank to his knees fighting it all the way, but losing. Darnath collapsed beside him and Larn was howling silently next to Julia. Her eyes burned with the magic, and her hands like claws glowed with it. She did not see Larn’s pain, or maybe she did and didn’t care.

  Shelim felt Darnath falter. There was nothing he could do for him. The link could only be broken by Julia, she was the focus, and the lessening flow was miniscule. He doubted she even noticed the loss. She kept working.

  Shelim was freezing, no he was burning. He was drowning in an ocean of fire. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the pain. He became the pain, fed it back on itself trying to become its master. His body writhed upon the ground, but his mind cleared and suddenly he was somewhere else. He was floating. Below, he saw his body still writhing in agony, but he was divorced from it, separate and uncaring.

  Was this the other world then? No, it couldn’t be; he wasn’t dead. One quick look down and he knew that he still lived. Was this one of Julia’s realms then? It might be. It just might. He watched his body dying by inches and couldn’t make himself care, but Darnath and the others needed him. He must go back, but the pain...

  Julia staggered and went to her knees still vainly trying to work her magic. The air before her was shimmering and the wall was twisting and wavering, but the gate would not stabilise. Shelim watched her claw at it, and knew this wasn’t going to work. The gate
needed something... a kind of focus. Just as Julia was the focus for the magic raging through her, the gate needed something to anchor it to the real world.

  Shelim willed himself back into his body and screamed as he was submerged into fire. Every part of his body cried out for relief. He pushed himself back onto his knees, but could not go further. It was enough. He wondered at the change within himself. The pain was still eating him alive, but he mastered it, ignored it, became one with it. His thoughts were as sharp as a steel sword. He watched Julia twist and rip at the substance of the world and endured. There was nothing else he could do.

  * * *

  Julia pulled and twisted, wove the magic and spun out threads into the pattern she wanted. The magic thundered through her trying to pound her into the ground. She rode it like a wilful horse and insisted that it obey her. Grudgingly it did, but there was something wrong. The gate would not stabilise.

  The pattern was complete, but still it drew magic from her. The flow was like nothing she had ever experienced. At least the pain was familiar. It felt like the end of the world. The same pain she had felt when she knew Keverin was dead; the pain that had not left her since that night and never would. It was despair. It felt like utter despair, and the God help her, it was as familiar as Keverin’s embrace.

  The air wavered before her eyes, and the wall twisted into a vortex of crackling energy, but still the gate would not stabilise. She wanted to scream in frustration just as Larn and the others were screaming at the pain. What was wrong? Why wouldn’t it work?

  The gate felt like a living thing. It breathed magic, and excreted lightning. The blue crackles of energy bled away into the room climbing the walls and running like magic rivers across the floor searching for the ocean. She had given birth to this monster and it hungered, oh how it hungered. It quested for that which would give it purpose, but found nothing. Julia did not understand. It was searching for something, something she could not provide. How could she when she didn’t know what it wanted?