by Scott Eder
Lost in the moment, Dev hadn’t heard her approach. She eased up behind him and laid a cool hand on the back of his neck. His element spiked, rushed to the point of contact. A flame erupted across his neck, but her water protected her. It negated his reaction with a sizzle and a little cloud of steam. Like fresh aloe, her touch cooled his burning skin and conscience.
“I believe that’s progress.” Her laugh brought some life to the room. “Only your neck caught fire this time.”
If I hadn’t lost control, lost myself, would Wren still be here?
“Caz, what if I—”
“Stop. What if’s are evil little things that serve no purpose. They do nothing but eat away at you. They won’t bring her back.” She turned his face to hers. “Trust me, I know. I lived with those little bastards after Amy died and they almost killed me.”
“I guess you’re right.” But she’s gone and I miss her. “What brings you here?”
“You. Stillman has news and sent me to fetch you.”
“Cyndy?”
“Not a peep. It’s been four days now.”
That’s not like her. She hasn’t been out of the Cradle in over a hundred years and now she disappears for days.
“Come on.” Cassidy tugged on his arm. After a quick glance at Wren and a vow to return soon, he let Cassidy lead him away.
* * *
Stillman paced across the Womb, slapping a rolled-up newspaper in the palm of his left hand. The globe spun as it always did. Three lights showed in the Cradle, as they had since Cyndralla went off-grid.
Dev took his seat and put his feet up on the table while Cassidy sat next to him. When she had first done it, the day after the battle, Stillman freaked out. It changed the traditional order of things, he argued. Water was the opposite of Fire and should sit opposed at the table.
This Knight of Water saw things a bit differently. Instead of being opposite fire, water sat beside it. When she kissed Dev, Stillman smiled and took his seat without further argument.
Magnus jogged in, toweling sweat from his massive chest and shoulders. Dev crinkled his nose.
“What died in here?”
Magnus smacked Dev’s legs from the table on his way to his accustomed place. “You will in a second, Sparky.”
“The report from Tampa is around three thousand dead from a supposed gas leak,” Stillman said.
“Three thousand.” Dev slapped the table. “Damn.”
Cassidy hung her head and Dev rubbed her arm, knowing she blamed herself for not being quicker. They’d had this conversation before, and no matter how much he argued against, she still held herself to blame.
Hell, they all were.
Magnus cleared his throat. “What of the other orbs? Any word?”
Stillman cocked his head as he studied the grubby Knight of Earth. “That’s the odd thing. Our associates have searched for the orbs, but there is no trace. It’s like the earth just swallowed them up.”
“I would have known if that happened,” Magnus said.
“What about the shipping manifests?” Cassidy asked. “Did they follow those leads?”
“Every one. The train cars specifically mentioned in the records are gone. Vanished.”
Dev whistled.
“There’s more. Alexander’s eldest brother, Magdon, has released security video from the attack on the Tampa building to the press.”
“What? There are more Gray’s out there?” Cassidy asked.
Stillman sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. Magdon, or Michael, as he’s known to the rest of the world, is the CEO of Daegon Gray. He’s pressured the authorities to label you three as terrorists. They positively identified Stanley Rock, Cassidy is considered a person unknown, and the images of Magnus are still being analyzed. Evidently a giant diamond man does not compute. Your pictures are being circulated globally.”
“Figures,” Dev said. “That’s why we get the big bucks.”
“We’ll work around it,” Stillman said.
“There’s a storm coming.” Cassidy turned toward the door as the Knight of Air charged into the Womb.
“You.” Cyndralla, dress in tatters, hair tangled and twisted and sticking out in multiple directions, greasy black smudges on her face and arms, dug a talon into the chest of the Knight of Flame. “You knew about him all along.”
Taken aback, Dev could only stare at the enraged Knight.
“What?”
Cyndralla pressed her face into his, reptilian eyes showing the barest slit of purple. “The other dragon. The one with the Shadow Lord. You saw him that first night, didn’t you?” She pressed her claw in deeper. “Didn’t you?”
Dev slapped her hand away as he stood up, face hardening at the accusation. “I saw something that first night. It was a big black head, but beyond that, I couldn’t see a thing.” His tone took on a hard, dangerous edge. Crimson flecks sparkled in his eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cyndralla lost some of her steam, dropped back on her heels and retracted her claw. “Why?” She swayed on her feet, the last of her energy used up in her outburst.
Dev grabbed her before she fell over and carried her to the closest seat. “I was too busy trying not to die.”
“The only one,” Cyndralla murmured, skin burning with fever. “Last.”
Stillman rushed over, took her hand and felt her forehead. “Exhaustion. And maybe something….” He squinted in concentration. “...more. Garison,” he bellowed. “Get my case.”
While Stillman fussed over the incoherent Knight of Air, Cassidy motioned Dev away from the action.
“Question,” Cassidy began. “Stillman mentioned associates. Who are they?”
“You didn’t think we were in the battle against Shadow alone did you?”
“Well…”
“We are a very small group and can’t be everywhere at once.” Dev looked at Stillman to see if the old man’s ears had perked up. “Our leader has contacts and allies all over the world, both human and other.”
“Other?”
Dev smiled. “If you think we’re weird, wait until you meet some of our friends.”
A battered leather case covered in pouches and flaps emerged from the floor ahead of Garison, who hopped out behind it. The bag rattled and clinked as the muncle dragged it across the floor and left it at Stillman’s knee.
“Thank you,” Stillman said absently as he rummaged through the pockets and trolled its depths. “Where did I put tha—ah, here it is.” Pinched between his fingers he drew forth a small glass vial no bigger than his pinky, topped by a cork stopper. A milky white liquid filled the bottom quarter of the vessel.
“Still good?” Swishing it around left a film along the walls and, when he removed the top, a citrusy orange scent permeated the room. “Magnus?”
“Sir?”
“Hold her shoulders. She’s not going to like this.”
Magnus clamped down while Dev and Cassidy moved closer. The Precept held the potion to her lips.
“Drink this. It will make you feel better.”
The Knight of Air parted her lips just enough for Stillman to pour it in and stiffened like a board as it took hold. Her eyes opened wide and she thrashed in the chair. Magnus held her as best he could, but Cyndralla had the strength of a dragon under that human façade. She escaped his grasp, wriggled off the chair and convulsed on the ground.
Cassidy went to assist, but Stillman waved her off. “The worst is over. See?” Her struggles weakened. “It will be over in a moment.”
With a last scissor kick, Cyndralla rolled on her belly and lay still. Breathing heavy, she slid her hands beneath her chest and pushed up to her knees. She eyed Stillman, promising payback in that cold stare.
Stillman grinned and shrugged. “What would you have me do? Let the spell drain the rest of your life force?”
Dev looked to Cassidy who looked to Magnus who looked to Dev.
“Wait a minute. What spell are we talking about here?” Dev asked, as he helped Cy
ndralla into a chair.
“Maybe spell is not the right word, although that’s how it got inside.” Stillman eased gingerly into his own chair, as if hurt. At the blank look from the mob, he continued. “She was infected with a magical parasite that, had I not fed it a hefty dose of my special brew, would have killed her within another couple of days.”
“How did that happen?” Cassidy asked. “Did you run into Gray?”
Garison clacked to the table bearing a tray laden with wine and cheese. Cyndralla grabbed the bottle and drank deep, raising more than one eyebrow in the room.
“I was careless,” the Knight of Air began. “Thought they’d be long gone. I was right, but they left me a gift.”
Magnus shook his head. “Who are we talking about?”
“Gray and…” Upending the bottle, she took another swig and wiped her lips with a soiled forearm. Her face gentled, took on a distant, far-away look. “My brother, Blackscale. Although before his supposed death, he took a new name, Gothrodul. I thought him killed by a Varangian prince from Novgorod.”
Silence reigned in the Womb.
Cyndralla sat up straight and placed the bottle on the table. “You see, for the past twelve hundred years or so, I thought I was the last of my kind. And when I picked up the scent of another dragon at the penthouse, I had to know.”
“Which is why you argued so strongly for chasing down Gray,” Cassidy said.
Cyndralla nodded. “Thank you, Water Knight, for reminding me of who we are.”
Cassidy blushed.
“Once you were safely back here, I left to pursue the trail.”
Magnus shook his head. “Crazy dragon.”
“Yes. I was.” Cyndralla’s flat tone betrayed her disappointment in her own choice. “The thought that after all these years another of my kind was alive overrode my reason, and I acted recklessly.”
“So long as you know.” The Knight of Earth rolled his eyes.
Magnus, always trying to lighten the mood.
A slim smile crossed her face and she cupped the big man’s cheek with a slender palm. “I picked up the scent at the building where you fought and followed it to a remote location to the east. There, I found where Blackscale made his lair.”
“What did you find there?” Stillman asked.
“The missing people, or, I should say, what was left of them, and many references to the Last Clan.”
“The Last Clan,” Stillman said. “I haven’t heard that name in centuries.”
“I remember my mormor telling me and my brothers about hidden dragon eggs nested in piles of gold and jewels,” Magnus said.
“The eggs are right,” Cyndralla said. “No gold though.”
“I’m not surprised. Some old jarl probably added it in to make it more interesting,” mumbled Magnus.
“What is the Last Clan?” Dev asked.
“The Last Clan is a myth told to dragonlings about a secret clutch of dragon eggs hidden away until the last days of our kind. The stories were told to quiet the young when the human hunters were about. Knowing that the race would continue no matter what, provided a sense of peace.” Cyndralla yawned. “Forgive me. My strength is spent.”
Cassidy rubbed her arm in support.
“I thought it a simple story,” Cyndralla continued. “But now…I’m not so sure.”
“What do you mean?” Stillman slid to the edge of his seat.
“Blackscale believes he found them.”
“How can you be sure?” Stillman asked.
“He told me. You see, he was always a cunning one, and left a gift he knew I could not resist—something he gave to me long ago on my one hundredth name-day. A carving, made from the bole of the lightning shattered elm outside our home in the Caucasus, inscribed with the symbol of the Last Clan and a single word, “Remember.”
“It sounds beautiful,” Cassidy said.
“It was, and as I traced the sharp lines of the rune inlaid with gold in the center of the world, the spell struck, rooted me to the spot until I finally broke free and returned to the Cradle. Embedded in that dark magic, though, my brother left a message. It started out with his usual hatred of human-kind and how he could not believe I defended them, but then went on to say that he had discovered the hiding place of the Last Clan.”
“If he finds those eggs and discovers a way to hatch those dragons,” Stillman said, “Gray would have more than enough power to tip the balance in Shadow’s favor.”
The room fell silent. This was all new to Dev. He’d never heard of dragon clans, or myths about long hidden dragon eggs in a big pile of gold. Alexander Gray escaped. Nothing else mattered.
“There’s more.” Cyndralla stood and limped over to the globe. “He wants to meet with me. Alone.”
“Absolutely not,” Stillman said.
“This is about more than Knights against the Shadow, Cernusen. This is about saving dragonkind from extinction. According to the legend, it takes both a male and a female to open the brood doors. When I thought I was alone, I did not consider the future. I hid down here, safe, and thought that while I yet lived, dragonkind survived. But this changes things.”
“You cannot trust him.” Stillman stood and approached the Knight of Air. “He is with Gray now. What he does, he does for Shadow.”
“What if he’s changed? What if he is a slave to the power of Alexander Gray and is forced to act against us?”
Stillman shook his head. “You can’t be naïve enough to think that.”
Cyndralla turned on Stillman. “It’s a chance I cannot ignore. I’m going.”
“Cyndy, wait.” Dev clasped her arm. “You can’t do this. We need you.”
“Knight of Fl—Dev, Magnus, Cassidy.” Cyndralla smiled to each. “You have earned my respect and affection. Let us part now as friends. I am the Knight of Air and sworn to the Order, but matters of my race take precedence. Do not try to stop me and mar this civil parting.” The Knight of Air strode from the room.
“Let her go,” Stillman said. “She has made her choice and we must not lose focus. Though she does not see it, our paths lie in the same direction.” He clasped his hands behind his back and headed for the doorway. “Take your rest while you can, for I fear the war has only begun.”
Develor Quinteele, sixth Knight of Flame, pressed his fist against the chest of the Earth Knight. “Stone and fire.”
Magnus Siggurdson, fourth Knight of Earth, responded with his own fist to the chest of the Fire Knight. “Fire and stone.”
Cassidy Sinclair, ninth Knight of Water, grasped their arms. “And water.”
“And water.” Dev and Magnus nodded.
The End
About the author
Since he was a kid, Scott wanted to be an author and explored many genres through high school and college. Fantasy, though, captivated his soul. Tales of knights and magic, dragons and elves filled his dreams. After greasing the gears of the corporate machine for many years, he escaped the Information Technology vortex to focus full-time on writing. The stories he’d envisioned years ago—of nobility and strife, honor and chaos—demanded they be brought to life.
Student of David Farland and apprentice to James A. Owen, Scott lives with his wife, two children, and a giant Chihuahua on the west coast of Florida.
http://www.scotteder.net/
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