Dragonshade (The Secret Chronicles of Lost Magic Book 2)

by Aderyn Wood

  Heduanna pinched her lips together. “For now you must heed one important thing: Yana is key.”

  Her father’s eyebrows drew together and Heduanna sympathised with his surprise. It also confounded her as to how the young duck herder would be important in the Great War to Come. The visions of Yana remained clouded, still, after all this time, but the message was strong. Yana was important. “Keep her safe,” Heduanna continued. “And keep her close.”

  “As you say.”

  Heduanna licked her lips. “Has Zamug and his tribe left the city for their travels across the desert?”

  “They leave tomorrow. Why?”

  “I must go with them.”

  The king’s mouth slackened. “But daughter, you are still not recovered.”

  “I am, and it is time for Zamug to teach me all that he knows. You are right. Perhaps there is another way for me to access the goddess. I will travel with the Cassites when they leave tomorrow at dusk.”

  That evening, Heduanna shared the evening meal in the king’s suite with her father and her brother Sargan. Hadanash was notably absent, either uninvited or still smarting from their disagreements with Father over the weasel. It was a pity, she would have liked to have seen him before she left.

  “You’ll probably see the ruins of Aztar,” Sargan said, his eyes wide with excitement. “Zamug says it’s a common sight on the journey, depending on the sands of course. Imagine if you come across the threshold stones of the forest of the gods. They’re rumored to have a strange scripture engraved upon their weathered surface.” Sargan needed to wipe the grease from his chin, but his eyes held that faraway look he got whenever he talked of myth, or legend, or history.

  “The forest of the gods are nothing more than a story,” Father said. “Perhaps they reference an oasis that dried up, Sargan. In any case, your sister has other tasks before her.”

  Sargan finally wiped his chin. “I’m sure you’re right, Father, but I still hope to travel the desert for myself one day. Yana would like to see it too. I’ve promised to take her as far as the Sacred Oasis.”

  “I don’t think that’s wise.” Father glanced at Heduanna. “Yana is not used to such heat.”

  Sargan shrugged. “She loves the heat, and she wants to explore the desert as much as I! I do wish I could go with you, sister.”

  Heduanna smiled. “It is what lies beyond the desert that I must see.” A flash of the changing landscape from the visions filled her mind.

  Sargan’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak, but their father spoke first, “I must talk with your sister alone, Sargan. I will bid you goodnight.

  Disappointment flickered on Sargan’s brow, but he stood and said goodnight.

  Once again, Heduanna was alone with her father.

  “I take it you rested some more after I saw you this morning?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Heduanna had bathed in the royal pool, before eating a nourishing tray of fruit, sipping a cup of wine, and returning to her bed to sleep on and off for the rest of the afternoon.

  “And—” Her father seemed to choose his words carefully. “Have you had more time to reflect, Are there any other messages from the goddess that I must know?”

  Heduanna shook her head. “I don’t believe there is any further meaning to untangle form the goddess’s message.”

  The king looked around the room. “And, what of that matter we discussed before your convulsions. The matter of Qisht, and the treachery discovered by your brother.”

  Heduanna cleared her throat. As much as she’d wished for it there’ been no revelation about the weasel. “No,” she told her father. “The goddess remains silent on the score.”

  Her father’s shoulders visibly relaxed.

  “But there is more She must yet reveal. I’m certain any treachery will be exposed.” It was a lie, but Heduanna hoped to get to the bottom of the weasel’s betrayal more than anything else.

  Her father frowned. “Perhaps. There is something else I wanted to ask you, about the girl, Yana.”

  Heduanna lifted her chin. “Yana is not a girl, Father. She is a young woman, she bleeds with every moon.”

  “You seem to know her, yet you’ve never met.”

  “We’ve met. She was there when I awoke remember?”

  “I wasn’t sure you remembered.”

  “I do, and she was in my visions. In a way, I feel as though I’ve always known her. It’s hard to describe.”

  “It appears you both share similar talents. And Zamug has confirmed her gift is strong. On the ship she told me she had foreseen my death.” Her father looked troubled, and Heduanna shivered as he spoke. “Has such a thing ever been revealed to you?”

  A flash of the vision came to mind once more. Of Danael protecting someone behind him.“ Only that you must keep Danael close to you. Especially in the battle to come.”

  “You think he is—”

  “The blaze bearer?” Heduanna finished. “Perhaps. Though in the visions fire was everywhere.”

  Danael

  Danael peered at the clumsy squiggles he’d made in the tablet and compared them to the ones drawn by Qisht. He’d done a poor job of it, but it was his name all right, written in clay. He placed the stylus on the table and took a sip of wine. Then he held the tablet up to the lantern light and read each word aloud, slowly. “Prince. Danael. Of. Clan. Estr. Varg. Drakia.”

  He sipped the wine again and put the tablet down. “Khanal,” he muttered to the lantern, wondering how the Drakian word should appear written.

  He stood and moved to the other side of his chamber where he’d left a tablet – a section of the Aurannan. Qisht had taught him well enough how to speak the Zraemian tongue, and now their lessons focused on how to read and write it.

  After the fixtures, he wanted no further disadvantage born of illiteracy. He’d told Qisht of his interest in the famous epic valued by every Zraemian citizen. Danael had been reading sections of it every day with Qisht. It was interesting, and proved an effective way of keeping his worries about Heduanna contained, though they were ever-present. The tablet that now lay by his bed told of the prophecy of Gedjon-Brak, or more specifically, the coming of the so-called blaze bearer.

  Danael picked up the tablet and stepped back to the table.

  “The blaze bearer shall come from a far-away land.” He’d read the line earlier that day, with Qisht. The reading was slow, and he had to work hard to remember each word, but the line had an eerie effect on him, causing a shiver to tremble over his skin. And when he peered at his arm he saw the raised lumps along his flesh.

  Blaze bearer.

  He gulped more wine.

  Many had been named blaze bearer – the one who would protect the rightful king in the Great War. It was said the general liked to think of himself as the probable protector, though his son Ilbrit also coveted the role. There were thousands of men and boys across Zraemia who fancied themselves as the future hero of the people.

  But this version of the epic had the protector coming from a far-away land. Perhaps he ought to get Qisht to acquire a different version.

  “Prince Danael.”

  Danael jolted and nearly let the tablet slip from his hand. He turned to see Ri, one of the servants at his door.

  “Yes?”

  “Princess Heduanna requires your presence. You are to accompany me to her suite.”

  The temple obelisk tolled eight bells as Danael walked through the foyer of Heduanna’s suite, and entered her reception room. She sat on the settee, reading a tablet. Every lantern and sconce had been lit and the space glowed with golden light. She wore only her plain temple garb, though the feather had been removed from her head. Danael drank in the sight of her beauty.

  She smiled. “Thank you, Ri. Please leave us.”

  The servant turned and exited the room while Heduanna poured two cups with wine.

  Danael resisted the urge to rush to her and sweep her up in his arms as he’d done that first night and take
her to her bed. He gripped his hands behind his back. It was his lust that had caused her illness. There was no one to blame but him. Qisht had made that clear, and Danael wouldn’t put her in such danger again.

  Heduanna stepped to him and stood on her toes to kiss his lips. “What’s wrong, lover? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

  “What’s wrong? Heduanna, I shouldn’t be here. Your father told me I wasn’t to—”

  “My father knows you are here, as does that weasel Qisht.” A frown creased her brow, but then she looked up at him and smiled broadly as she took his hand. “Come, sit. We must talk.”

  She led him to the settee and placed a cup of wine in his hand before she sat opposite.

  “Your father really knows I’m here?” He asked tentatively before taking a sip of the wine.

  “He does. I’ve told him he’s to stop interfering. He was only doing it because of his concerns for my welfare, and because of the poisoned words whispered in his ear.”

  Danael frowned. “You mean Qisht?”

  Heduanna nodded.

  “You think he works against you?”

  “I know it as a fact.”

  “Has the goddess revealed this to you?” Danael’s stomach tightened. Qisht had been a solid support for Danael, teaching him the language and the nuances of palace life. But if Qisht was against the princess, who else did he oppose?

  Heduanna lowered her cup and straightened her shoulders. “Not the goddess, but we’ve gleaned proof nevertheless.”

  “We?”

  “Hadanash intercepted a spy. A man who acted as a secret contact between Qisht and his homeland. His name is Iltanar and he has relayed dozens of Azzurian secrets to our enemy. Only Phadite knows how many other operatives the weasel’s had in his employ.”

  Danael shook his head. “Why haven’t you brought this knowledge to the king?”

  “We did. But father wants to protect his lover more than his city. He refuses to believe the treachery of that weasel unless the goddess herself reveals it to him.”

  “And has she?”

  Heduanna sighed heavily, before taking another long sip from her cup. “There’s something else I need to tell you. I’m going away tomorrow.”

  “Where?”

  “To the desert. I’ll be leaving with the Cassites when they make their migration.”

  Danael itched once more to wrap his arms around her, and to stop anyone from taking her from him. He swallowed another gulp of the wine and clenched his teeth.

  “I will miss you,” Heduanna said, her amber eyes full of love.

  Danael looked away. This was unbearable.

  “Be wary of Qisht while I’m away. I’ve tried to convince Hadanash to include you in his investigations, but—”

  “Hadanash and I don’t exactly see eye to eye, Heduanna. His methods are… different to mine.”

  “Hardly a surprise,” Heduanna said with an eyebrow curved upward. “My brother-prince is rash, selfish and cruel. If you were the same as him I wouldn’t love you so much. Though I’d still admire you.” She smiled behind her cup and her gaze traversed his body.

  Danael scratched his head. “I should go.”

  “No,” Heduanna put down her cup and rushed to him, climbing on to his lap and kissing his neck.

  Danael groaned with the pleasure of her touch, her scent filled his nostrils and his entire body ached for her. “Heduanna, we shouldn’t—”

  “Why shouldn’t we?” she asked between kisses.

  He clasped her waist with his two broad hands and pushed her back. “Because look what happened? I don’t want you to fall ill again. You may despise Qisht but he told me how your lovemaking affects you. It is our passion that makes you ill and he also told me that with each new episode your convulsions grow worse and you take longer to recover. That one day, it may take you completely, and you will be as a vegetable, with no sense about you any longer. People will have to bathe and feed you. You will no longer write or read your beloved poetry. And I will never hear your voice again. What’s more,” Danael took a breath. “He said you could even pass over to the—”

  Heduanna held a finger to his lips. “Believe me, my love. Qisht has told you and my father all of this for his own treacherous ends.”

  Danael frowned. “You mean it’s not true? But I was there, I saw your convulsions and it was right after we—”

  “It’s true enough that my passions invite the goddess. When I was younger the goddess visited me in my dreams, but since I’ve been a woman, it has been love that she’s hungered for. Qisht knows this too well, and he has sought to stop it to cut the insight my visions allow father. Don’t you see? Without the goddess’s visions my father loses his only advantage. Urul is larger, richer, more powerful a city than Azzuri has ever been. They have conquered unknown lands to the far east. And now they use far more slaves than we ever thought possible to undertake their work, and even act as soldiers and fatten their army in the tens of thousands.” Heduanna shook her head. “The goddess is all my father has.”

  “But—”

  “No more questions, Danael. This is our last night together and I intend to make love to you many times before the dawn, and even after. The goddess is with me now, there’ll be no more convulsions this night, I promise you.”

  She kissed him and the taste of wine and the soft warmth of her flesh inflamed him. His hands moved from her waist to embrace her fully and he returned her kiss.

  It was well after midmorn when Danael woke. They’d fallen asleep sometime after darknight, for Danael remembered hearing the single bell toll over the city. Then they’d woken after dawn and made love yet again, before sleep reclaimed them. He’d lingered far too long and should have been in the field with the thirty-first contingent by now. Heduanna slept soundly by his side and his arm was still nestled around her waist. She was warm and soft and he decided he didn’t care if he was meant to be in the field or if he was meant to be the king of the whole bespurned world, there was no other place he’d rather be.

  He kissed Heduanna’s cheek and gently dislodged his arm and got out of bed to go to the water room and relieve himself. On the way back he nearly ran into one of Heduanna’s servants. The thinner one. The old woman’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open, as she took in the sight of his nakedness. No doubt, she’d never seen a barbarian in the flesh before.

  “Could you bring a platter of fruit and curd to the princess’s room?”

  The servant snapped her mouth closed and bowed her head. “At once.”

  Heduanna was still sleeping when he returned. He smiled at her gentle snores and bent to kiss her cheek once more. He looked at her for a moment, wondering if anyone else had ever felt the kind of love they shared for each other. It seemed unlikely. No Drakian saga or Zraemian epic could adequately describe what he felt for her.

  She twitched and rolled her head to the side and muttered something. Danael sat carefully on the edge of the bed. She groaned and muttered the same words over and over. “Venom,” and “Sands,” amongst other whispers too muddled to understand.

  He brushed the hair away from her face and soon she grew still, her breathing regular once more. Danael glanced to the table by the bed. A clay tablet rested upon it. He picked it up and studied the words.

  “Children. Blue city,” he whispered the words he could recognise, sounding each one slowly. “Awake.”

  “What are you doing?”

  Danael turned to see Heduanna’s amber eyes watching him. “I’m reading your poetry. Or trying to.”

  “Good morning,” she said with a smile.

  “Good noon more like.”

  She sat up and wiped her eyes. “Noon? Already?”

  “I’ve asked for a breakfast platter. Are you hungry? I could eat a bear.”

  Heduanna shook her head and looked at the tablet Danael still clutched in his hand. “I didn’t know you could read.”

  “Not very well, I’m learning. Qisht…” he let his words linger, unfini
shed.

  The servant entered the room with the platter for their breakfast. Heduanna pursed her lips. “Come, let us eat. I could eat a bear too. Whatever that is.”

  Heduanna ordered the breakfast to be served in her reception room. They both dressed and sat by the low table and ate in silence, mostly.

  Heduanna seemed distracted. Her gaze lingered on the floor to her side. Danael’s attempts at conversation fell flat. Even Heduanna’s beloved cat, Smite had no luck in rousing the princess from her reverie, and after a brief visit he meandered in a curved line out toward the terrace.

  “Some pomegranate curd, my love?” Danael held the bowl up. Pomegranate was one of Heduanna’s favorite foods, but even it didn’t hold her attention.

  Danael put the bowl down and waved his hand in front of her face. “Heduanna. Heduanna!”

  She blinked and looked at him. “What?”

  “Your thoughts are elsewhere. Off with the dream sprites my mother would say. What distracts you?”

  She frowned and shook her head. “My dreams. There’s a message… I’m having trouble recalling it fully. It’s for my father, I think.”

  “You must tell him, then. Before you leave.” A fist clutched Danael’s heart. He’d pushed the fact that she was leaving to the back of his mind and it hurt to give voice to it.

  She blinked at the floor. “Yes, if I can grasp it. But,” her eyes returned to him. “There is more I must tell you, too.”

  “More? From Phadite?”

  Heduanna nodded. “You have a role.”

  A word came unbidden to his mind. Blaze bearer. His flesh swelled with goose bumps, and he took a sip of breakfast beer. “What is it?”

  Heduanna reached out and grasped his hand. “Gedjon-Brak is no myth, my love. It comes fast and furious like a desert gale, and just as destructive. And when it arrives, you must protect my father, above all else. Ensure no harm comes to him.”

  Danael swallowed his mouthful and nodded. “I will.”

  Danael had accompanied Heduanna out the city gates and at least a hundred paces into the desert sands. Two palace guards went with them, and a servant boy who carried the satchel filled with the few sparse belongings Heduanna would take with her. The boy gave her the satchel and bobbed his head before catching the guards to walk back to the palace.