Chapter 16
A Roar that Shook the World
Prophecies are slippery fish. Trying to avoid them, is often what makes them come true.
- Night
--
The wind shifted and Wayden smelled the corpses. His midday meal curdled in his stomach. The wagons pulled to a stop.
Healer Conrick spat out his licorice stick and joined Swiftrider in examining the grisly remains. The smile was gone from the portly healer's face. “Arrows and wolf bites. Unless wolves have learned to fire bows, or men to chew like beasts, this is Sky Raider work.”
Ko glared at Conrick. “Bandits killed by raiders is almost as excellent as raiders killed by bandits.”
“These aren’t bandits or raiders,” Conrick said, feeling at the corpse’s wrist. “These are Woodsmen. See the tattoos of vines on their faces?”
It was the same type of tattoo Healer Conrick had on his face.
“If they lived in the woods, then they paid no taxes,” Ko said. “And that makes them bandits.”
“Robbing someone means you're a bandit,” Conrick said. "Living in the forests means you're poor.”
Dragon Knight Jereth Thunderstone laughed. “How else did they survive out here, if they didn’t rob?”
Healer Conrick cleared his throat. “Nuts, berries, roots, trapped game, and hunting with bows and slings. We fished the streams and survived on what the Primordial gave us.”
“Ah, yes, of course, your tattoo. You were one of these…Woodsmen.” There was a sadistic sparkle in Thunderstone's eye.
“I was proud to be one,” Conrick answered, the vine on his cheek coiling as his jaw clenched. "It was a hard life but an honest one. I learned as much herb lore from the woods as I did from Kaldian tomes. In fact, one balances the other.”
“Sir, this one’s breathing," A Flicker called.
Ko dismounted, drew his dirk, and thrust it through the wounded Woodsman.
“There,” Ko said. “Now he’s not.”
Thunderstone laughed, but Conrick reddened. “That was badly done.”
“I don’t recall asking your opinion, healer,” Ko responded.
A while later, Conrick was still brooding, riding alongside the wagon.
“I’m s-s-sorry Ko killed the Woodsman,” Rif said.
A Flicker guiding a pack mule chimed in. “Ko ought not to have done that. The Trees have eyes in Deep Woods and the Woodsmen avenge their own.”
The woods did seem to whisper and groan. A wind picked up, singing, and Wayden wasn't sure he liked the haunting tune. The trees swayed from side to side, casting long, dancing shadows.
Swiftrider came galloping back, yelling. "More bodies! Flickers this time. Hurry, one is breathing.”
Conrick spurred his horse, which disappeared leaving their wagon in a cloud of dust. By the time they caught up, Conrick was tending to the Flicker. The wounded man was the sole survivor of a squadron of soldiers. Their rent armor bore the dragon in front of the sun emblem of Helos. Wayden recalled Dade's words to the Draconess about the poor quality of the Flickers' armor. The boiled leather and chainmail hauberks had done little to save them.
Ko ordered the survivor set into the wagon. “Tend him as we ride, we have no time to waste."
"It's not wise to move him yet-" Conrick said.
"Move him on the wagon. Now."
The Flickers obliged.
"Gently!" Conrick shouted. His face flushed, as he clambered into the wagon, and stripped the bloody cloak from the injured soldier.
"Can I help?" Wayden asked.
The wounded Flicker whispered, "In my satchel. I have a special bracelet. It'll help. Put it on me."
Only Wayden seemed to hear the man. Conrick was fetching honey, lard, and muslin from a supply basket.
Wayden dug around in the man’s satchel. Gambling bones, hard tack, flint, an empty wine skin, and finally a golden bracelet emblazoned with a leaf. He placed the bracelet on the man's wrist.
“A leaf. The symbol of the Immortal Bantos,” Kolram said.
The man had a stubbly jaw and greasy red hair. His leather armor was cut wide open, but the wounds beneath seemed to heal themselves before their very eyes. The man rubbed the bracelet.
"You must be a Descendant of an Immortal." Conrick said to the man, as he prodded the wound. The man barely winced. “What’s your name?”
"They call me Dragonclaw. Anyone have something to drink? I have quite a thirst.”
Rif handed the man a water skin. Dragonclaw took a sip and spat it out. “What the wraith- are you trying to poison me? This is water!”
Conrick laughed and handed the man a wine skin.
At twilight, they arrived at South Watch. Four towers rose from the corners of the wooden palisades. The wooden planks on the southeastern tower had suffered scorching. Men on scaffolding, pulled down blackened timbers and replacing them with freshly hewn logs.
A Flame strode out of the postern gate, flanked by half a dozen Flickers and a shaven-headed female healer in flowing yellow robes.
"Fire-Whisperer, thank you for returning one of my men.”
Conrick and the healer woman helped Dragonclaw from the wagon, though Wayden wondered if he really needed the help or just liked the healer woman. His wound had healed amazingly fast.
"Did you see sign of the rest of the squadron?” the Flame asked Ko.
"Dead. A few leagues down the north road. Ravaged by Sky Raiders." Ko showed the Flame the parchment with the Dracon's seal. "We are on a mission of the utmost importance. Have you seen a dragon?"
"My whole scouting party? Only Dragonclaw is left of them? They were two dozen of my best. Did you bury them?"
"None of them asked for a burial, or seemed to mind that we didn't waste crucial time giving them one. I'll repeat myself. The dragon. Have you seen her?"
"You didn't bury them?"
"Are you deaf, stupid, or insubordinate? No, we didn't bury them. If you force me to repeat myself one more time, I'll have you trialed by fire for treason."
The Flame turned to one of his men, a gangly man in the blue cloak of an Ember-ranked soldier. "Take two units and a wagon to bring the bodies back.”
The Ember nodded and headed off.
Ko’s face reddened. “These delays are insufferable. I'll ask you one last time―"
“You already asked me one last time. Aye, we saw the dragon. What do you think scorched our walls? A near winter thunderstorm?"
"Which way was she flying?"
“South by South-East. Cat-like face, just like the mother of Volkanus in the paintings. Young. Not much bigger than a warhorse, white as Tulkarian ivory. A pretty thing."
"I don't recall asking your aesthetic opinion.”
"I’ll waste no more words on you, My Lord." The Flame said. "Will you be staying the night? We cannot house all your soldiers, but they can sleep in our bailey. We can clear a room for you in one of the towers."
Ko shook his head curtly. "I'll sleep with my men. How about the Sky Raiders? Any sightings of them?"
"Got a pigeon today as a matter of fact saying winged wolves were sighted over Edgewater. They didn’t attack though, just flew past."
"That will be all for now. Open your bailey.”
“Open the gates!” The Flame called.
"The Dracon will hear how you questioned my orders," Ko said.
"As you say, sir." He rode off into the bailey.
“We should turn back on the morrow," Swiftrider said to Ko, "The Dracon ordered us back by the ninth. If we run into delays, we risk missing the deadline.”
Ko glared at the Dragon Knight. “The Dracon gave us a parchment with his emblem on it bearing orders to bring back a dragon. No deadline was mentioned."
"Orally, it was."
"A codex-stamped message is what I'll abide by. I’ll brook no more arguments."
That night the temperature dropped sharply. Wayden, Rif, and Night huddled together. B
reakfast was hardtack in the wagon, as they were off at sunrise with no time for a fire. South Watch shrank away as the horses clip-clopped south east. They rode past a busy lumber camp on the river. Flurries lofted on the breeze.
An ancient temple stood in a clearing.
“That’s a temple of Bantos,” Swiftrider said. “Back in the day, the Druids lived there practicing Plant Magic.”
Wayden had never seen a plant mage, but he heard there were many of them in Tulkar. Only one side of the temple remained, but a stone floor, hearth, and a single vine-covered wall still stood erect. A mural of what might have been horse men decorated the remaining wall, though erosion had smoothed away the details.
A huge mirror tree grew over what had been the temple entrance. Its bark was flecked with crystals, glittering in the sun, an ancient arched doorway nestled beneath its roots, though the walls around the door were all but gone. A thumping sound, as regular as a heartbeat, resonated faintly from below their feet.
"What happened to Bantos?" Wayden asked, his stomach heaving, as the wagon went over a root.
"No one knows. He was the first Immortal that disappeared. Many assume Centuron captured him, like she did with Asgaroth, Dragonking, and the Shadow Queen, but his body was never found. Others say he is still around today, posing as a beggar, and if you throw a coin in his cup, he’ll grant you three wishes. I’ve tossed a coin or two, but no wishes yet."
Wayden wished they could stop and look at the temple. He was tired of riding, but the wagon kept going, on this endless foolish journey. He’d told them from the start he could no more capture a dragon, than he could the sun, but would they listen?
If they were going to throw him in prison, then take him to the Red Palace and be done with it. It would still be better than endless riding. Or would it? If this was tedious, what would it be like spending day after day behind iron bars? At least here he could taste fresh air, see the fireworks of leaves exploding from the trees, feel the cold wind of freedom. He remembered that when he was young he witnessed a Glower mage arrested for using unauthorized magic to put on a street show. Had she been sitting in a prison cell all this time? And for what? Putting on a show? And Rif’s mother hadn’t even done that much.
"We should make a run for it," Wayden whispered to Rif and Night, wondering why he hadn’t thought about this earlier. "I don't want to end up in the Dracon's prison."
"I thought they said we w-w-won't be if we bring back the dragon."
"I don't think I’ll be able to do it. Kolram couldn't control Volkanus."
"This dragon is sm-sm-smaller."
"It doesn't matter. Ko doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Beast Tongues are good with different types of animals. Kolram is generally better with warm-blooded animals."
"Run or stay, it won’t matter. You won't end up in the Dracon's prison," Night said. "You'll end up in Gar's."
Wayden’s spine prickled. "What do you mean?"
"I see you bound to a tall tree, by the one eyed-vulture. The vulture’s chick is with you. Then I see you in the stone nest."
"Gar captures me? When does this happen?”
"Soon."
“Is there any way to avoid this?"
“All junctures lead to it. Prophecies are slippery fish. Trying to avoid them is often what makes them come true.”
Wayden brooded on this as they made camp in a clearing in the center of a heavily wooded area. Flickers established a perimeter of spears. Wayden, Rif, and Night gathered firewood in the fading light. Ko fumed over his maps and Conrick gathered herbs. Thunderstone and Swiftrider brought back a stag, and the smell of roast venison soon filled the air.
Wayden and Rif huddled close to the fire. Wayden wished Ko had allowed them to bring a change of robes. His were starting to itch. It was too cold to wash. Wayden wondered if it would snow soon.
Wayden craned his head upwards. The sky was cloudless, awash with countless stars. The constellation known as the Eye stared down at them. Wayden sank his teeth into the succulent venison.
He smacked his lips. "I haven't eaten this well in seven years."
"I don't think I-I-I've ever eaten this well.”
“That soup you and your mother made smelled pretty good.”
“Y-y-you Glimpsed that?”
Wayden leaned in towards Rif and whispered. "Aye. At night when we were sleeping. Gar might have been the better Beast Tongue, but Kolram had the Glimpse."
"G-g-gar wasn't really a better Beast Tongue. He had Raylar's God Weapon, the pearl necklace. It amplifies p-p-power."
"How do you know that?"
"R-R-Raylar wrote a tome about the God Weapons."
"Rif, did Arth know what Dakarth and Dracon Niar were doing with Soul-stealing magic?"
Rif ran his finger along one of his seashell beads. "Arth couldn't understand what they were up to exactly, but he mistrusted them. He kept a lot to himself and fed them as much false information as he dared to."
“Why did all the souls go into newborns?” Wayden asked.
“The baby’s s-s-soul is in a state where it won’t resist a second soul’s entry. The two souls become linked,” Rif explained. “Raylar studied wraiths. Wraiths can cohabitate with a host. He applied the same principle.”
Wayden poked the fire with a stick. Sparks shot up, hissing like angry cats. “Arth’s false information stopped them for sixteen years. This is the first Three Moons' Night since our birthday coming up."
"R-r-right."
"Things didn't go as planned for Dakarth and Niar on Three Moons' Night. They were quite upset about it. But if something doesn't work out the first time, you try again right? By now they have probably gathered the information they need. Rif...is Arth the Striker?”
"No. Maybe. I don’t th-th-think so. It might be Belok. I thought we had him in mentally imprisoned, but I’m not sure."
"I don’t understand. Who’s Belok?"
"A year before his d-d-death, Arth returned home to the cottage in Raslo, where he and his sister, Genika, were staying. The door to the cottage was wide open and there were tracks in the snow. It looked like someone had been dragged into the cottage. Th-th-there was blood. Arth rushed into the cottage. Belok was on t-t-top of Genika with a knife, st-st-stabbing her over and over again."
"Source have mercy."
"Genika was dying... Arth’s rage was out of control. Soul-stealing is l-l-linked to emotion. Arth had only meant to suck Belok’s soul. He hadn’t meant to absorb Genika. His own sister and Belok too.”
“Wait, so they are all inside of you? Genika with the soul of her murderer?”
Rif nodded, tears running down his cheeks glistening in the firelight. “Arth, Genika, and I- we trap Belok in a mental prison of sorts, but sometimes he escapes and we have to put him back in. He hides in the recesses of my mindscape. It’s hard to c-c-catch him."
Kolram had told Wayden about the mindscape. Kolram saw himself in whatever setting he imagined, but sometimes when Wayden was in a bad mood, it would affect the terrain. If Kolram pictured himself in a sunny field, and Wayden was in a bad mood, a rain storm might kick up. Wayden couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a murderer hiding in his mind. Again, Wayden wondered about the Striker. If Belok would get free from time to time, was it possible he was the Striker?
Wayden held his cold hands up over the glowing embers. "Rif...the woman who was found dead in the pine grove- she was a red-haired woman just like Genika. You were with Big D when he died. You blacked out."
Rif's brow crinkled in distress. "I don't know what happened. I don't remember k-k-killing them. I thought I had Belok trapped.”
“But you just said sometimes he escapes.”
“Yes. Yes. You’re r-r-right. Oh, Source no! What if it is me?"
Wayden studied Rif’s face. He looked genuinely upset.
“He never thought about this before?” Wayden wondered.
“Denial can be a powerful obstacle to overcome,” Kolram said.
“And if this Belok is in his mind, who knows how much he can manipulate Rif.”
“Could you do that to me?”
“Possibly. I wouldn’t. It’s a morally repugnant thing to do in my opinion.”
“We agree on that.”
Rif looked close to tears. “Do you think if I’m k-k-killing people? How can I stop it? What should I do?”
Wayden rubbed his burn-marked forehead. He exhaled a small cloud into the cold night air. "I don’t know."
A Flicker approached. “Hey, you two. No talking. Stamp out them coals.”
Rif threw dirt on the remaining embers. Wayden laid his head on a pile of crunchy autumn leaves and fallen pine needles. He stared up at the stars. In the distance crickets chirped. A shooting star flew overhead, trailing a tail of gold and blue.
Wayden fought off sleep. He was afraid Belok might take over Rif and kill him in his sleep. When he finally drifted off, he dreamed of being chased by a veiled man with black wings. Wayden climbed through barrels, but still the man pursued. Wayden turned and confronted his assailant, yanking his veil away to reveal it was Rif all along. Rif shrank away, but holes opened in the ground all around him. Each hole contained someone: his nanny, his mother, Kazor, Mavik, Big Darius, a red-haired woman.
Wayden rushed over to Mavik's hole to see if he could rescue him. The hole was deep. As he strained his eyes, he could see clear through to the other side of the world.
He heard his mother calling him. "Wayden.” He turned and saw his mother, as pale as milk. "It's coming." His mother clutched a bouquet that was a mixture of red roses and purple arrows. "The dragon. It's coming."
“I can control the dragon, ma. I’m the Dragon King.”
“No,” said a voice like a roar. “You’re not.” The dragon was here.
Wayden bolted up, wide awake.
He heard the dragon's voice again. "I am Harth. I am fire. Beware my wrath."
The sentries looked half-asleep, slumped against their spears. Wayden walked, half in a trance, past the perimeter of half-buried spears that surrounded the camp in a make-shift fence. Swiftrider was on duty, mounted atop of Green Lightning. His scaled horse flicked its forked tongue.
Swiftrider stifled a yawn. “You’re supposed to stay within the fence."
Wayden heard the dragon again.
The dragon's thoughts felt louder now, closer. "I am claw. I am fire. I am doom. Out of my way Beast Tongue, you are nothing to me."
Wayden’s skin prickled. He was now as awake as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water on him. He ran towards Swiftrider. Green Lightning’s ears pricked and she snorted.
"The dragon nears," Wayden whispered, and then shouted, "The dragon comes!"
“Easy, girl,” Swiftrider said.
Wayden reached out with his mind, hoping to control the dragon.
"Do not try to hold me, Beast Tongue,” The dragon thought. “Interfere with me, gnat, and I'll cook you and eat you. You are nothing. I am flame and death. I am Harth."
Ko, from behind the fence of spears, shouted, “What is going on?”
“The dragon..." Wayden said.
But then they heard it. A roar that shook the world.
Soul Hosts Page 16