Kezari pinned Tebzn with her gaze. “She lies.”
“Regardless, we do have laws.”
Without warning, Kezari sent a single memory of Aris’s torture into her cousin’s mind. Tebzn reared back, her wingbeats faltering before she recovered control. “As you can see, I speak the truth.”
“In the morning, we can haul Perim before the queen,” Tebzn answered.
“I must get my skizik out of here now.” Kezari’s nostrils flared. “Now. His mental health is fragile.”
Below, Perim let out a sob. “You cannot take my soulbonded.”
Neither dragon answered her.
“Go,” Tebzn said to Kezari. “I will ensure that justice is served.”
Through her connection to Aris, Kezari detected his thoughts beginning to stir. She had to get him somewhere alone. “See that you do,” she conceded. “I will check with you soon.”
Perim’s shriek sounded below as Kezari propelled herself into the sky, faster than she would dare with Aris awake. There was a small, abandoned island a short flight away. She could take her skizik there. And she would do her best to help him heal.
Chapter 1
Selia opened the door to her son’s room and sighed to see him awake, still curled up in his favorite reading chair. Iren startled, slamming his book closed and jumping to his feet with a guilty expression pinching his face. But his contrition faded quickly. As he placed the book on a side table, he tried for an innocent grin.
“I just wanted to get to a stopping point.”
“Bed,” Selia said with an impatient gesture. “Now.”
Huffing, he trudged across the floor. “You stay up late reading sometimes.”
She couldn’t help but smile at that truth. “And I usually pay for it. You’re sharing a magic lesson with Arlyn tomorrow, and I want to be certain you are rested and focused.”
Iren paused beside his bed. “I thought she was traveling with Kai.”
“They leave again tomorrow evening.”
Her son crawled beneath the covers, and Selia resisted the urge to tuck them up around his shoulders and smooth his hair. At eleven, he had become resistant to such shows of affection. All too soon, he would be a man grown, and even these moments would end. A point she reminded herself of when he was being particularly difficult.
“I guess you and my father weren’t soulbonded like Kai and Arlyn,” Iren said sleepily. “The bonded couples here seem to travel together all the time, but you and Onaial didn’t.”
Selia froze at the unexpected comment. Even after seven years, the loss of her beloved cut deeply. “Our lack of bond had nothing to do with that. Your father traveled to wild places, and I had students to train besides.”
Iren twisted the blanket between his fingers. “Do you think you have a soulbonded out there somewhere? I hate to think you’re lonely. I thought about asking Eri, but it didn’t seem right.”
“Do not bother your friend about such things,” Selia said, a bit more sharply than she’d intended. She didn’t like to think about her possible soulbonded. “She might be a seer, but she’s still younger than you are. If you want to be her friend, you’ll not ask about the future.”
Iren nodded. “I kind of thought that, too.”
“About the possibility of a soulbond…” Selia took a deep breath. “I don’t think about it. I loved your father dearly, bond or no. I’m not certain when I’ll be ready for another relationship.”
“I understand,” Iren said.
Unable to resist, she pushed a strand of his light brown hair out of his eyes. “What has you thinking about this, beloved?”
Iren nibbled at his lip. “I don’t want you to be unhappy.”
“I’m not,” Selia said firmly, although she wasn’t certain it was true. An uneasiness had been growing inside her, a feeling closer to glum loneliness than she wanted to admit. But overall, she was content. Wasn’t she? “Moving to Braelyn was an adjustment, but I enjoy my work. Are you homesick?”
She and Iren had lived at her father’s estate, Fiorn, until she had accepted the role of teacher for Lord Lyr’s newfound adult daughter, Arlyn. Iren had struggled at first, but Selia had thought her son was happy here, especially once he’d befriended young Eri. Maybe she was mistaken? Worried, she studied her son’s frowning face.
“Why would I be?” Iren asked. “I don’t get lectured here.”
Selia laughed at that. “I know your grandfather is gruff, but surely you miss your Aunt Niasen.”
“Sure,” he said. Then he shrugged. “But she’s the heir. I could visit through the portal and see her just as often.” Iren tugged the blanket close to his chin, his eyes growing heavy. “I like it here. I want you to like it, too. You find a soulbonded, maybe we can stay.”
His words trailed off as his eyelids slid closed. Smiling softly, Selia waited until his breathing slowed and his body went lax before she dropped a kiss on his forehead. So he wanted to stay here at Braelyn, did he? As she slipped out of his room and down the stairs curling around a broad tree trunk, she could understand why. The plains of Fiorn were beautiful, but the forests and mountains of Braelyn held their own unique power.
At the bottom of the stairs, Selia glanced across the entryway at the massive side of Eradisel, one of the nine sacred trees. Perhaps it was the tree’s influence. Fiorn did not house one of the nine, but Braelyn was built around the very trunk. Lord Lyr, Myern of the Callian branch, guarded the sacred tree and the priests who tended her. Her power permeated everything.
Selia found herself stepping closer to the tree as though she were being pulled. Did Eradisel wish to communicate? Only once, when she and Iren had first arrived, had the tree spoken to her. Well, sent feelings of joy and welcome more than words, but it was communication nonetheless.
When Selia was close enough, she extended her hand, palm outward, until she could almost touch the bark. Then she waited. A sense of peace filled her a moment before the tree’s thoughts flowed in, more concept than true words. Prepare yourself. They come.
Selia jerked back, stumbling slightly with the motion. The image had been vague and blurred, but she’d discerned the form of a dragon and rider gliding across the mountains to the east. That couldn’t be good. Dragons had originally shared territory with the elves after their migration from Earth to Moranaia, but after a long, brutal war, the dragons had retreated to an island on the other side of the world, too far away for the mostly land-locked elves to reach. They’d only taken a few of their fae allies with them.
Why would they return after millennia of peace? The elves hadn’t had contact with the dragons for so long that few if any people had even seen one. She hoped war wasn’t brewing, but Eradisel’s warning to prepare didn’t bode well. Still, it didn’t make sense. Lyr was lord of this estate. If there was danger of war, wouldn’t the tree have told him instead?
Selia spun away and strode across the entryway, sending her mind out in a sweep to try to locate Lyr. She found his energy in his study, as she’d expected, and headed that way even as she gave him a gentle mental nudge. Her steps rang out on the wooden floor as she waited for him to connect.
He completed the mental link almost immediately. “Good day to you, Selia.”
“Good day. Please forgive me for interrupting your work,” she sent back. “I hope I have not caused undue disturbance.”
“Of course not,” Lyr answered. Not that he would be so impolite as to say otherwise. “Is all well?”
“I believe so.” She took a deep breath. “Eradisel provided me a vision. I am near your study and would like to discuss it, but I thought it best to ensure you were available.”
“I am. Come straight in.”
When Selia pushed through the door and stepped into the long oval room, Lyr already waited, leaning against the edge of his desk. She glanced around, but aside from a pair of people beyond the large windows, she saw no one else near. Not even his soulbonded, Meli, who often read in one of the chairs situated in the c
enter of the room.
Good. She had a feeling her vision didn’t need to be general knowledge.
“Thank you for seeing me so quickly,” Selia said.
“It is truly no trouble.” A slight smile crossed Lyr’s face though he stood with crossed arms. “You needn’t have been so formal, you know. I’m getting used to disruptions. Clechtan, but Ralan has practically made it a hobby.”
Her cheeks warmed. “He’s the prince. The king’s own heir.”
“He’s something,” Lyr muttered, though affection colored his tone. “Please, sit.”
Selia hesitated only the briefest moment before settling into one of the center seats. Maybe someday she could be as casual as Lyr, but the informality here had been a difficult adjustment after Fiorn. She had never enjoyed her father’s stern, cold household, but she still struggled to slip free from the hold of her early training.
Lyr sat across from her, brow furrowing as he focused on her face. “Am I to assume the vision was a bad one?”
“I’m not certain,” Selia admitted. “Eradisel said only to prepare myself. They come. I caught a vague image of a dragon and rider flying over the mountains. I’d guess from the look of the area that it’s the eastern side of this mountain range.”
“A fair distance if we weren’t talking about a dragon.” Lyr’s fingers whitened around the chair’s armrests. “This doesn’t bode well.”
Selia shook her head. “No. But why did Eradisel warn me? She said ‘Prepare yourself’ not yourselves. There must be something I’m supposed to do.”
“Do you have spells for dragon containment?”
Selia considered her options. She knew a fair number of pre-set spells, enchantments prepared in advance for easy use, but none of those had been designed with dragons in mind. However, she was adept enough at magical containment. Given a bit of time, she should be able to devise something suitable.
“I can come up with something.” She glanced at the water clock on the wall and sighed. “Even if I must sacrifice sleep. But do you think containment is wise? If the dragon comes in peace, using magic against them could cause more harm than good.”
Lyr nodded. “I wouldn’t do so unless necessary. But after all that has happened over the last few months, I automatically prepare for trouble.”
Selia winced in commiseration. When she and Iren had first arrived, one of the lords under Lyr’s command had been trying to kill him. No sooner had that threat been ended than exiled prince Kien had attempted to send more assassins through the portal between Moranaia and Earth. Prince Ralan had finally defeated his evil brother a couple of weeks ago, and none of them had settled into the apparent peace.
Perhaps that was a good thing.
“I understand,” Selia said. “I hope we’re concerned for nothing. Eradisel might have wanted to keep us from acting rashly when the dragon arrives. After all, neither Ralan nor Eri have warned us of danger. Surely one of them would’ve had a vision.”
Lyr’s gaze flicked to the door. “I suppose we’ll know it’s bad if Ralan bursts into my study without knocking.”
Selia half-expected him to do so, but after a few moments of silence, she chuckled. “Guess we’re on our own.”
“It appears so,” Lyr answered with a grin. “I’ll have the Taysonal standing guard in the trees pay close attention to the skies, and I’ll contact some of the estates to the east for news. My House was the diplomatic liaison with the queen during the dragons’ time here. If they seek to contact the current monarch, it makes sense that they would come here first.”
Selia stood, smoothing the fabric of her long gown. “I’ll work on a containment spell just in case. Do you think we should be concerned about the harvest festival? I could contact my sister and see if she would send extra mages so that you don’t have to ask my father. As his heir, she has the authority.”
“That’s a good possibility.” Lyr pushed to his feet and started toward his desk. “We have four days until the festival. I’ll see what Lady Imai to the east has to report. As the duchess just above me, she has a good portion of the eastern coast under her command. If the dragon and rider have made it that far, she will know. It’s possible your vision hasn’t happened yet.”
“That is true,” Selia said, considering. “I didn’t get a strong sense of time beyond soon. Perhaps you’ll learn more details on this situation from Lady Imai. And I’ll report back once I’ve completed my own work.”
After a quick detour to her room to grab her cloak, Selia headed out the back door and into the chilly gardens. It was almost the end of the month of Eln, which marked the middle point of autumn, and the promise of winter blew in with the nighttime breeze. She tucked the warm cloak tightly around herself and marched along the path toward the magic workroom at the bottom of one of the outside towers. Fiorn rarely grew colder than this at any time of year, and she’d first arrived at Braelyn during the summer. None of her other teaching assignments had been in places with deep winters, either.
Walking to lessons would be much more unpleasant in the snow, but such was life.
As soon as she entered the workroom, she adjusted the cooling spell to warmth. Some days, like this one, were still hot when the sun was out, so the room needed cooling during the afternoon. Fortunately, it only took moments for the magic to work. By the time she hung up her cloak and seated herself on one of the cushions in the center of the room, the temperature had grown comfortable. Thank the gods for the long-dead elf who had first designed the enchantment.
Now it was time to design one of her own.
In the sky, Aris could almost forget the fractured mess of his life. The wind tugged at his hair, pulling strands across his eyes, but the power of it was more relief than annoyance after being confined for so long inside a cave. Far below, the mountains rolled by, the peaks growing gentler the farther west they traveled. His life was nothing compared to this ancient range. A single drop in the endless measure of time.
Thousands of heartbeats thrummed in his own blood as his magic connected with the creatures below. Stone held no interest for Aris, but animals and plants were altogether different. He could sense living things and even link with them to varying degrees. If he wanted to, he could manipulate and change them—or snuff out their spirit if they proved to be a threat. During his capture, the spells somehow worked into the iron shackles had cut him off from the life he’d always felt around him. Isolation of the worst sort.
“How much longer?” he sent to Kezari.
“We should arrive by the sun’s zenith.”
Aris studied the golden scales on her long neck. The light struck them, making them glow amber in the sun. With each wingbeat echoing through the air, her shoulder muscles shifted beneath him, but she peered ahead with no sign of effort or concern. As far as he could tell, in any case. Every once in a while, she turned her head enough to check on him, but he had no idea how to gauge a dragon’s facial expressions.
Perhaps he would learn during the next month—if he made it that long. How simple would it be to shove himself free of the dragon’s back? No healer would be able to save him from such a fall, and his torment would be over. They’d already lost a week to his madness. Kezari had taken him to a small isolated island, working with him until he’d returned to himself. Or as close to himself as he would ever be again.
Before they’d left the island, Kezari had told him that she had to travel to Braelyn to speak to the lord or lady currently in charge there. She claimed to need Aris’s aid. Was she worried that the elves would hurt her? Although their peoples had remained separate for millennia, there was a peace treaty. She didn’t need Aris to make it through. In his current state, he could only be a liability.
His gaze flicked to the ground so far below. A tempting release, but no. He was unlikely to hold onto his sanity for a month, but he could ensure that his rescuer reached her destination. She might not be harmed, but a guide would make the journey easier. He owed the dragon a few more days at th
e least.
Then he could end his torment for good.
He gave Kezari’s neck a pat to catch her attention. “What message is so urgent that you rush to Braelyn?”
“Can you not feel it?”
“Feel what?” Aris asked with a frown.
“The Earth weeps. The energy seeps.”
He glanced past the dragon’s shoulder at the ground. All seemed well to both his eyes and his magic. “I don’t understand.”
“Not Moranaia,” she said. “You do not explore our link. Join with me and know the Earth as I know your animals and plants. This will tell you.”
His muscles seized at the suggestion, and he tightened his legs reflexively on the small saddle Kezari had conjured. Explore their link? This wasn’t the first time she’d implored him to do so, but each time the thought of being bound to another made him want to vomit. He shoved the knowledge of their connection to the back of his mind as he had when she’d mentioned it before. No way he could access a link. No.
“It is not a soulbond. I am not Perim.”
Bile scalded his throat at the name. “It doesn’t matter.”
“We will need to link,” Kezari said, her tone implacable. “But you have time yet.”
“You should have found someone else,” he muttered aloud.
Although the wind whipped his words away, she still heard. “That is not how this works, skizik. Your kind has forgotten the closeness we once shared.”
“I was taught that the dragons began the war when we would not yield the portal to their control. And they wanted too much land.”
Kezari huffed, and smoke whirled from her mouth and nose. “Convenient. There was wrong on both sides, I will allow. However, keeping the portal from our control was foolish. We are still bound to the Earth. The elves are not.”
Aris smiled at the indignation in her tone. “The Veil leads to more places than Earth.”
“Irrelevant.” Her wings beat harder. “This is a useless discussion.”
“I don’t think so, but if you want to drop it, I’ll grant you the same grace you do me,” Aris said. “I take it your link with Earth has revealed something dire?”
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