Reflection- Dragon's Bane

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Reflection- Dragon's Bane Page 10

by Rachel R. Smith


  Nerissa glanced up the stairway, wondering whether or not Thea and Amon could overhear their conversation. Though they were allies, it was probably wise to keep the explanation brief. Knowledge was a kind of currency, and like currency, it was often best not to let others know exactly how many—or how few—coins you had in your wallet.

  “Right,” she finally said. “And in addition to those kinds of uses, some people have the ability to actively manipulate the flow of energy through crystals, allowing the stones’ powers to be harnessed at will. Raysel and I are still learning how to tap that potential. His experience tonight suggests I may have accidentally stumbled across another of their uses.”

  Charis clapped her hands together in excitement for the second time that night. “That’s amazing! Tao will be absolutely thrilled.”

  The thought of sharing the discovery with Tao brought a broad smile to Nerissa’s face. “I can’t wait to see her expression,” she said.

  The sound of footsteps caught Nerissa’s attention, and she looked up to see Thea coming down the stairs carrying the tray of tea and cookies, with Amon shortly behind.

  When they reached the bottom, the older woman’s eyes met Raysel’s and she bowed her head slightly. “I want to apologize for hitting you with the door earlier. I hope you’ll understand that I was told not to let anyone in—under any circumstances.”

  “There’s no need for an apology. I do understand. Believe it or not, you’re not the first person to hit me in the nose with a door,” Raysel said wryly.

  Thea waggled one wrinkled finger at him, and her tone changed from apologetic to scolding. “Then you should stop trying to barge into people’s homes.”

  “I only do it when I’m concerned about Caeneus,” he said.

  Raysel’s disarming grin seemed to melt Thea’s disapproval. She beamed with satisfaction and shuffled toward the kitchen, tea tray in hand.

  “I realize you two have some catching up to do,” Amon said, addressing Nerissa and Raysel. “However, Raysel’s arrival hasn’t resolved our original problem. While I find you to be pleasant enough company, it is in our mutual interests to reunite both of you with the rest of your group as soon as possible.”

  “Actually, I had an idea about that,” Nerissa said. “When you explained how you had delivered the letter to our inn last night, I wondered why you didn’t just bring the book directly to our room yourself. It would have saved all of us a great deal of trouble.” Amon opened his mouth to answer, but she held up one hand to stave off his interjection. “Then it occurred to me that you couldn’t do that because you wanted to remain anonymous and you didn’t know what rooms we were staying in.”

  “You’re right—on both accounts,” he said.

  “We know what rooms we’re staying in though,” she said, finishing her thought.

  A gleam lit up Amon’s eyes. “You want to use the tunnels to rejoin your group at the inn.”

  “Yes. Will it be safe to take them again tonight?” Nerissa asked. “I wouldn’t want to encounter the Senka in such close quarters. I don’t think we’d manage to get away unscathed this time.”

  “We’ll have to use caution, but I think the risk of running into one of them is fairly low. I know for a fact the Senka are currently spread very thin. Their priority would likely be to focus their search above ground, under the assumption that you don’t know about the tunnel system or how to access it. Even if we did encounter someone, sound carries well down there, so we’ll have plenty of warning if someone else is nearby.”

  “And so will they,” Raysel added.

  “Regardless, I think it’s the best chance of getting the two of you back with the rest of your group without incident. It would be wise if you left Maze as soon as possible. Now that the Senka know you are here, it’s merely a matter of time until they track you down. Since the festival ends tonight, you have the perfect opportunity to leave tomorrow with the rest of the out-of-towners.”

  “If that’s the case, why don’t I leave with you?” Charis piped up.

  “No,” Amon said a second before Nerissa could voice her own objection. “My uncle’s carriage is scheduled to pick you up in the morning. It would seem odd if you suddenly changed plans—especially after what the maids saw and heard tonight.”

  Charis’ blush returned in full force at the mention of the maids.

  “Even though there are three weeks left before classes resume, how would I explain to your father why you didn’t come home?” Amon continued.

  Charis folded her arms across her chest and looked away, but she didn’t argue further.

  “You can’t really come with us anyway, Charis. We still have work to do, so I can’t promise we’ll be going back to Niamh anytime soon,” Nerissa said. “As a matter of fact, I don’t want to leave Maze at all.”

  “What?” Amon and Raysel blurted out in unison.

  “While I realize we haven’t figured out the suspension technique yet—and we don’t know how long it will take us to do so—at some point, we will need to reenter the city to confront Casimer. If we leave, who knows when we will have another opportunity to slip in unnoticed.”

  “Amon is right though,” Raysel said. “We can’t remain at the inn any longer. The Senka will search every square inch of the city to find us.”

  “You’re assuming they actually know every square inch of the city,” she replied with a shrewd smirk.

  Raysel looked confused by her statement, but Amon’s eyes narrowed warily.

  “The Senka don’t know about the pair of hidden storerooms below this house that the Revenant use to conduct their business,” she explained. “I saw food and beds down there when we passed through. I commented that it was an ideal place to stay out of sight, though at the time, I had no idea it would be useful to me personally. We could stay there while we work on the suspension technique.”

  “We’ll have to do something with the wagon,” Raysel said. “Still, if Amon were willing to accommodate us, it would be a great help. We might be able to figure out the suspension technique sooner since we’d be free to experiment without having to worry about Senka patrols or stopping to take shifts on lookout.”

  Amon nodded. “You are welcome to use the storerooms for as long as you need. I won’t be holding any meetings until I uncover the traitor in our midst, anyway.” He paused for a minute and then added, “You mentioned earlier that you would need to somehow secure an audience with Casimer. Look no further. No one would think twice about two friends accompanying me when I pay a visit to my uncle.”

  Chapter 12

  One Interpretation

  Desta

  A silver sliver of the moon hung like a luminous gash in the otherwise featureless sky. Somewhere, the stars were twinkling the way they did every night, yet on this night, something obscured them from Desta’s view. It was like the sky itself mirrored her own unease. Just as the stars were surely out there somewhere, so too were Raysel and Caeneus. Or at least, that’s what she hoped.

  Although Desta could feel the need for sleep weighing on her, she did not want to go into her empty room and go to bed. Caeneus and Raysel should have been back hours ago, and there was no way she could sleep without knowing what had happened to them. So, she stubbornly remained in the room shared by the rest of the Ohanzee, sitting cross-legged at the foot of Rian’s bed long after the clock had turned over to the wee hours of the morning.

  She was definitely not the only one worried about their missing companions, either.

  Not far away, Rian wore a grim expression while he checked the straightness of his arrow shafts by rolling them along the table’s edge. Outwardly, this appeared to be a productive activity. Desta, however, knew this was the fifth time he had checked that particular set.

  In the middle of the table, a pile of cards was slowly growing as the twins faced off against each other in a continuation of their nightly competition. But tonight there were no whoops of brotherly antagonism when trump cards were played, nor
were there any self-congratulatory cheers. Silence from the twins was almost as unnerving as Raysel and Caeneus’ conspicuous absence. Desta imagined that Leal, who was currently guarding the wagon, must have an equally subdued demeanor as well.

  “You look exhausted. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go to bed?” Jarold asked, though the two cups of coffee in his hands made it clear he was already aware of both the futility of his suggestion and the answer she was going to give.

  Desta gratefully accepted one of the mugs. “No one else is going to bed yet, so I’m not going to either.”

  “Very well.” Jarold clasped her shoulder with one of his huge hands and gave it a surprisingly gentle squeeze before resuming his seat in front of the room’s lone window. Instead of staring out at the sky like Desta had been doing earlier, he was watching the street below—whether for their companions or their enemies, she couldn’t say.

  Desta held the mug up to her mouth and blew across the rim, watching the ripples radiate out across the surface of the dark liquid. When she finally took a tentative sip, her cheeks puckered—even more so than if she had bitten into a lemon. Perhaps the bitterness of such a strong brew was an additional aid to stay awake. Since late nights were not in her nature, Desta wouldn’t know. Like everyone else in her tiny village, she rose with the sun and slept with the moon. Her mother always said nothing good ever happened late at night, and tonight’s events certainly seemed to reinforce the truth of that statement.

  The thought of her mother sent Desta’s eyes back down to the letter laying on the blankets beside her, and a stinging sensation at the back of her nose warned that tears were threatening to form once again. She hadn’t realized how homesick she was until she saw the familiar slants and loops of her mother’s handwriting.

  It wasn’t just the handwriting that tugged at her emotions. It was also the words those letters formed. Her mother had always assured her that it made no difference whether or not Desta had prophetic abilities. On numerous occasions, she had said it would be a blessing if Desta didn’t have to share her burden. Still, the pride her mother felt upon learning of Desta’s gift shone through her words in the same way that the brilliant gold thread had glinted out from the fabric of the beautiful crimson dress at Darci’s shop.

  But beyond her mother’s joy and wishes for her to safely return home soon—and admonitions to take care and dress warmly now that the weather was cooling—she also included a warning. As Desta opened the letter, her attention gravitated automatically to those lines.

  Above all else, no matter how experienced you are, you must always guard against becoming too attached to one interpretation of a vision. Prophetic dreams can be tricky things. Sometimes the prophecy that comes to you is an exact prediction of events, and sometimes seemingly straightforward statements can hold double meanings. Often, the true meaning doesn’t become entirely clear until later. Even with a lifetime of experience, there are times when I misinterpret dreams or underestimate the importance of a minute detail until after events have played out.

  “Don’t get too attached to one interpretation,” Desta murmured under her breath. It was good advice. Perhaps, since her gift was so new, if she drove the wisdom deep into her mind, maybe she could condition her own visions to be clearer and more trustworthy. It couldn’t hurt to try.

  Unfortunately, her mother didn’t offer any guidance about the events that dreams did not foresee. Perhaps she was merely trying to comfort herself, but Desta’s dreams had given forewarning about both the ambush at the hot spring and the conflict with the Senka at the printing house. Surely, if anything bad were going to happen to Raysel or Caeneus, she would have dreamed about it ahead of time.

  Just then, the sound of a door opening reached her ears. She looked up and realized it was not the door to this room. The sound came from the adjoining room, and it was rapidly followed by footsteps. It was hard to tell whether they belonged to one person or two. Desta remained frozen in place, afraid to go into the other room for fear of finding that one of her friends had been injured...or, worse still, that one didn’t make it back.

  No one else moved either, seemingly locked in the same state of suspense. Everyone except Rian, that is. He was on his feet and headed into the other room in the blink of an eye.

  He dashed through the open doorway separating the rooms and suddenly stopped. “Who is this?”

  Alarm tingled down Desta’s spine. Why was there a stranger in the room next door?

  Though Rian’s question kept Desta rooted in place, it had the opposite effect on the rest of the group. Cole and Eloc abandoned their game so quickly it sent the pile of cards spilling over the edge of the table like a paper waterfall, burying Rian’s abandoned arrow shafts in a confetti of black and red symbols. The pair reached the doorway at the same time, and they jostled with one another for position until Cole finally shoved Eloc into the other room ahead of him.

  Jarold entered one step behind them. “Caeneus, Raysel, thank the heavens you’re safe!” he proclaimed.

  Unable to wait another second to see them for herself, Desta leapt off the bed and hastened to greet them. Sure enough, both Caeneus and Raysel were there, looking healthy and unharmed.

  And there was a third person in the room, too. A handsome young man had accompanied them. He pushed a stray lock of black hair from his forehead, and his striking blue eyes happened to meet Desta’s. She managed to give him a shy smile before dropping her gaze to the floor. Something about his appearance reminded her of Rian, but if she looked again, he would probably think she was staring.

  “Yes, we are safe—thanks to Amon,” Caeneus said, gesturing toward the newcomer.

  “Amon?” Rian said the name speculatively, as if it sounded familiar to him. Then, suddenly, he exclaimed, “He’s Casimer’s nephew!” He glared at Caeneus and Raysel with an unspoken question gleaming in his eyes.

  “He is also the owner of the sixth book and the person who sent us the letter last night,” Raysel answered.

  “Oh, well, that makes more sense,” Rian said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice. “So he’s Casimer’s nephew and the person who set us up to be ambushed. Suddenly, it makes complete sense that you would bring him back here with you.”

  “I had nothing to do with the Senka ambushing you!” Amon snapped.

  “Enough!” Caeneus held up one hand to cut off the burgeoning argument. “We will fill all of you in on this evening’s events. We just don’t have time to do so right now. For the moment, you will have to rely on our judgement that Amon is trustworthy.”

  Raysel met Rian’s indignant gaze and held it until Rian looked away. “The Senka know we are in the city, and they are likely already looking for us. We need to take action before they have time to find us.”

  All around the room, heads nodded in concurrence. “We know that,” Cole said. “We weren’t going to take any action without you, though.”

  “Were you at least able to get away with the book?” Cole asked.

  “More importantly,” Jarold added, “was this book the one we’re looking for?”

  A smile came to Caeneus’ face, and Desta’s heart swelled.

  “I was able to get away with the book,” he said. “It does indeed contain the sixth section of the prophecy.”

  A congratulatory murmur ran through the room, but it was short lived.

  “At this point, we’re presented with a difficult situation,” Raysel said. “We need to leave the city to avoid detection by the Senka. However, it will be difficult to reenter undetected when we’re ready to confront Casimer. Fortunately, with Amon’s help, we’ve been able to come up with a plan that resolves both issues.” He explained that there was a network of tunnels under the city, and that he and Caeneus intended to stay behind, hiding out in a pair of storerooms beneath Amon’s house.

  “The rest of you will return to the last campsite we stayed at before entering the city. Once we have the technique figured out, we’ll contact you with the
details of our plan and a rendezvous point,” Caeneus said.

  “I will be staying in the city with you,” Rian said. The expression on his face was one of utter and unwavering determination. “I have to be there when you confront Casimer.” He and Raysel locked eyes again, sharing an unspoken exchange.

  “Very well,” Raysel relented. “Rian will also stay. The rest of you will wait outside the city for further instructions.”

  “If that’s the case, I need to talk to Rian alone to…ah, fill him in on tonight’s developments,” Caeneus said, not at all convincingly. A perplexed-looking Rian followed him into the other room and closed the door behind them.

  While Raysel’s discussions with the others continued, Desta couldn’t help but wonder what they were talking about next door. The way Caeneus had been chewing his bottom lip made it clear that something about Rian joining them had made him uncomfortable. Why would that bother him though? He and Rian had always gotten along well, and they seemed to be getting along even better than usual lately.

  When the pair emerged from the room and rejoined the group a few minutes later, Rian’s face was as drawn and pale as Caeneus’ was flushed. Neither of them said a word while the others planned, and they studiously avoided looking at one another the rest of the night. Whatever their conversation had been about, it had not ended well.

  Chapter 13

  A King’s Promise

  Echidna

  Echidna’s steps rang out in a series of sharp, echoing clicks as she walked down the hallway that connected the greenhouse to the mansion. The steady rhythm was interrupted only occasionally when her heel struck one of the floor’s decorative wooden inlays instead of a marble tile.

  She pulled her fur stole tighter around her shoulders and glared outside in annoyance. Although the towering windows lining the corridor were woefully ineffective at repelling the cold, they did offer a breathtaking view of the endless rolling fields of the country estate. Right now, those hills were covered in a dusting of pristine, shimmering white—the first snowfall of the season. It was the very embodiment of an ideal pastoral scene. If you were the sort to appreciate pastoral scenes, that is.

 

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