Visioner

by K K Ness

  Tiny twin flames showed in the dragon prince’s eyes. “Explain it to me.”

  “Two custodians,” Griff spat. “Two lands! You might have everyone at Corros fooled, Sonnen, but I see your goal. You want all of Amas for yourself. And you’ll use some fake custodian to achieve it!”

  Sonnen’s mouth parted, the flame abruptly vanishing from his eyes. “You—what?”

  “I see how you spend all your days on the deadlands, how your eyes are always turned beyond our borders,” Griff snarled. “I’m not the only one who thinks your ways have become strange to us.” He glared at the dragon prince. “I see the path you’re taking. Kaul also didn’t will himself into power; he took it.”

  “That is not my purpose in Kailon, Griff,” Sonnen said, his expression troubled. “Danil is part of my House only until he creates his own.”

  Danil threw the dragon prince an astonished look. “I can make my own House?” he blurted.

  Rumbling low in his chest, Sonnen nodded.

  Hafryn huffed. “You didn’t think Kailon would become part of Corros, did you, fala?”

  Resisting the urge to inspect his bandaged hand, Danil admitted, “I don’t know what to think.”

  Griff bared his teeth in a mocking grin. “You believe Sonnen will give you a choice, custodian? Even now, he covets your power for himself!”

  Flames returned to Sonnen’s eyes. “And what was your intent with Freyna? She would be well had you not sent an assassin to attack her.”

  “An unfortunate mistake,” Griff hissed, although his eyes lowered in shame. He turned heated eyes back to Danil. “Amas would be better off without you. You know nothing of our ways, human. It makes you stupid and easy to control. The deadlands should have chosen another; one not so clearly eager to bow down to Sonnen’s machinations. Better that you die than allow him to destroy Amas.”

  Danil stared, wondering if that was true.

  Hafryn snorted. “You were also within the Temple of Kaul when Magus Brianna was defeated. The well of kiandrite didn’t choose you for a reason, Griff.”

  “And I’m grateful.” Griff smiled humorlessly. “The deadlands are tainted by Kaul—why else do you think the High Council was so desperate to be rid of it?”

  “What?” Danil gasped.

  It all suddenly made sense why the council had snubbed him in their rush to reach an accord with Arlyn and Roldaer. They never saw any value in Kailon to begin with.

  “Let the magi have it,” Griff continued, eyes shining manically. “The leylines of Amas will remain pure.”

  Hafryn folded his arms. “Kaul’s legacy continues to poison Altonas and Eyrie—your ideas of purity are a little murky, Griff.”

  The blue dragon sneered dismissively.

  Danil turned to Sonnen. “I have to return to Kailon now. If the High Council cares so little about what happens there, they may have given Roldaer permission to harvest the leylines. I must protect Kailon—even if it means going against Amas to do it.”

  Sonnen nodded. “I will fly you there myself. This has all happened under my eye, in my House.”

  Danil’s throat burned with gratitude. He knew how such an offer went against the proud nature of the dragon prince. “Thank you,” he managed.

  “What about him?” Hafryn pointed with his chin at Griff. “He’s not coming with us.”

  Sonnen grunted in agreement. “We must return him to Corros to face the consequences of his actions.”

  Danil held back a cry of dismay. They could scarcely afford to wait any longer. He’d already been gone from Kailon for too long.

  “By all means, Sonnen,” Griff replied, seeming to share similar thoughts. “Take your time.”

  Smirking, Griff didn’t notice Patril stride up close from behind and slam her fingers hard against the nape his neck. In an instant, his eyes rolled in the back of his head, and he slumped facedown into the dirt.

  A moment of stunned silence fell about the camp as they all stared at the crow commander.

  “That’s quite a trick, Patril,” Hafryn uttered, eyes wide.

  “There are many ways to take a dragon down,” Patril muttered nonchalantly, wiping her hand on her tunic. She turned to Sonnen and bowed. “My crows will take him someplace quiet and secure until your return, my prince.”

  Sonnen nodded his thanks, his expression a little nervous.

  “Well, now that’s settled,” Hafryn said with a grin. “It’s time we take Danil home.”

  28

  The journey by dragon-wing over the mountains of Amas took three long, torturous days. Icy winds beat about Danil’s cloak as he and Hafryn sat within the loose hold of Sonnen’s talons. Danil found he hardly cared about the vista below as they flew over vast expanses of oak and pine forests, the land dotted with hundreds of small lakes and rivers. Instead, he clung to stubborn resolve that their return to Kailon would not be too late.

  The leylines called to him with increasing urgency as if sensing his approach. Or perhaps it was Kaul’s glyph they sensed. Even now, it burned so brightly that it was visible beneath the bandage. Danil had grown fearful of sleep, where visions of Kailon burning haunted his dreams.

  But eventually they glided over the final peak, and Kailon came into view.

  Held firm by Sonnen’s talons, Danil squinted against the bracing wind to see a land once entirely made of blackened rock transformed by greenery. In his absence, new forests had spread through ravines, gullies, and canyons, and the rich scent of freshly turned soil hung in the air. Kailon was unrecognizable from only a few months past when Danil had been no more than a deadland scavenger risking his life for ancient relics and kiandrite flecks.

  The forest came to an abrupt stop at the border of Roldaer. To Danil’s dismay, he could easily see the ruins of Farin—someone had felled the sprawling trees and wiped the land clean of the wild new growth. Danil saw the red pennant of the Roldaerian magi affixed to the height of the crumbling inn.

  Sonnen wheeled them over the Amasian camp.

  To Danil’s surprised relief, brightly colored tents still ranged the length of the gully. If he didn’t know better, he’d have guessed that there were more tents now than when they’d left. “I thought everyone would be gone by now,” he murmured dazedly.

  Hafryn leaned close as shouts of welcome rang up from the camp. “Kailon’s fate should be decided by those who care for it.”

  Danil looked at him sharply.

  “Seems like the High Council has underestimated the resolve of Amasians,” Hafryn said with a wry shrug.

  They landed on a strip of exposed rock just outside the camp.

  A sudden rush of dizziness overtook Danil as his feet landed amidst the rocks. The leylines clamored toward him, a loud cacophony of welcome and warmth that almost set Danil’s heart at ease. The crystal against his chest thrummed a greeting in his mind, seeming to share images of their adventures and exploits with the leylines beneath them.

  But then the glyph awakened with an all-too-familiar, sickening sensation. It pulsed, burning through the bandage until its ugly redness was exposed to daylight. Danil clenched his fist as the leylines grew hushed. The acrid taste of smoke lay thick on his tongue.

  “Danil?” Elania gasped.

  He glanced up to see Elania and Blutark hesitate on the edge of the rocks. Pennants bearing the House glyph of Corros furled in the breeze behind them.

  Sonnen swept past Danil. “All is well,” he promised the two enchanters, though his expression was strained. He motioned them all down to the camp.

  Danil felt his attention drawn to the east. That way lay the Temple of Kaul. But was it the dreaded glyph that was calling him there, or something else?

  Hafryn touched his elbow, offering both comfort and a steady presence.

  “What would you have us do, custodian?” Elania asked into the quiet, noticing the direction of his gaze.

  Danil glanced back at her. Her eyes were cautious but trusting. “I’m pretty sure this is a bad idea,” he
admitted.

  Hafryn gave a huff. “That’s hardly stopped us before, fala.”

  Blutark grunted in agreement. “We’re with you, Danil. You should know the magi have felled the trees growing about Farin. Our spies say they’ve dug trenches around some of the buildings.”

  In alarm, Danil turned to Hafryn and said, “Arlyn must have sent word to Roldaer about the first crystal.”

  “And Farin will only hold their interest for so long,” Hafryn warned.

  Hoping he wasn’t about to fall for some ancient plot left in place by Kaul, Danil hurried for the trail leading away from the camp. He felt the others follow close behind. The path took them through what could be mistaken for old growth forest, with huge pines affording little light down to the undergrowth, where only fungi and sporadic tufts of bracken fern grew.

  As they loped, Hafryn quickly filled in Blutark and Elania on all that had happened since leaving Kailon, from kiandrite-sparked visions to Viren’s betrayal and their eventual escape with the glyph burned into Danil’s skin.

  “Viren will not escape what he has done to both of you,” Blutark promised, fingers twitching as if to weave an enchantment.

  “I know of a hidden pass leading through the High Reaches,” Elania piped up, her dimpled smile in sharp contrast to the murder in her eyes. “We can go together,” she said to Blutark.

  The bear shifter looked sorely tempted, and Danil was heartened by the way their Trueforms bared their teeth in agreement as they padded next to each other.

  Hafryn chuckled. “I admire you each for your bloodthirstiness, but Danil and I get to decide my cousin’s fate.”

  “Only if you reach him first,” Sonnen rumbled.

  Danil glanced back at his companions, feeling a rush of gratitude toward this unlikely gathering of friends. His only hope was that he was not leading them to some sort of dire trap. With each step, the glyph turned darker as if in hungry anticipation.

  They trekked through a clearing bright with wildflowers before taking the path leading down into a grove where only patchy scrub grew amongst the exposed rocks.

  To Danil’s relief, the mine tunnel leading to Kaul’s temple sat undisturbed, lined with the same shrubs he’d seen in his fiery vision. But in front of the entrance, where previously there had been only bare rock and thick boulders, sat a pool of tranquil water.

  “Well, that’s new,” Elania muttered warily, coming to a halt before it.

  Sharing a look with Hafryn, Danil trotted to the edge. The water was ice-cold and startlingly clear, revealing a wide fissure in the rock. Water could be seen burbling up from the deep, where a faint iridescent light resided.

  Blutark squatted, his eyes narrow. “That looks like kiandrite,” he muttered, gaze on the fissure.

  “A new crystal?” Elania asked.

  The water rippled, and Danil heard the leylines murmuring as if from only a few feet away. The first crystal gave a reverent trill, turning iridescent to match the glow within the fissure.

  “It’s the well,” Danil realized softly. “It must have abandoned the temple.” He glanced about, uncertain why it would have chosen here of all places to reside.

  ‘It’s not safe,’ he sent out to it, together with an image of magi coming with shovels and curses to tap it dry. The well needed to go back deep into the earth, where it would be safe from Roldaer and perhaps even the glyph Danil carried.

  Gentle laughter filled his mind as something new drifted out of the fissure. It settled on the surface of the pool, pushed along on a small wave until it fetched up against the rock at Danil’s boots.

  Bending, Danil fished out a sodden scrap of parchment. It threatened to fall apart in his hands, and he carefully unfolded it to see the charcoal markings within.

  “Hafryn,” Danil murmured, staring at the familiar spiked edges. He upturned his hand, where the same symbol pulsed a virulent red. “It’s Kaul’s glyph.”

  Hafryn took the fragile parchment, frowning. “It is, fala, but there are a few extra markings here. See?” On the edges of the drawing, five spirals softened the harshest lines. Hafryn tilted his head, his frown deepening as he scrutinized the parchment. “But I recognize this, also…”

  Heart thundering, Danil recalled weeks before being gently guided by the leylines, the first crystal gripped tightly in his hand as he scrawled across a scrap of parchment. Glancing at his friends, he said grimly, “It’s because I drew it the day the first crystal emerged. I drew Kaul’s glyph.”

  The burning glyph turned exultant on his palm. It scorched hot and bright, small new blisters starting to form.

  Despite being dead for centuries, Kaul still held sway over the leylines he’d once imprisoned. It was the only conclusion Danil could reasonably draw. The dreaded halfbreed had somehow reached down through the ages and steered Danil’s path.

  “You said Kaul’s magi-generals carried this glyph.” Danil turned to Sonnen, numb. “What did they do with it?”

  Sonnen’s mouth thinned. “There are types of kiandrite that no one dares touch, Danil. In lands such as Amas, where all creatures live and eat and breed and die, kiandrite becomes absorbed into our very beings. Such kiandrite can be…released, through a violent death.”

  “Violent death,” Danil repeated with a bitter whisper. “You mean like fire?”

  Hafryn cursed softly in sudden understanding. “Your visions, fala.”

  Even now, Danil could taste smoke in the air. The leylines had tried to warn him—or prepare him for the inevitable.

  “And Kaul’s glyph?” Danil pressed, his heart a heavy beat in his chest.

  Sonnen’s expression was troubled and somber. “Even his magi-generals could not contain such evil. The glyph is a receptacle of sorts, designed to capture the death kiandrite until Kaul could take it and use it for himself.”

  Elania took Danil’s arm in a gentle, comforting grip. “It’s how the deadlands came into being, isn’t it? Kaul used death kiandrite here and destroyed Kailon.”

  Sonnen nodded. “The ground may yet be tainted with Kaul’s enchantments.”

  But Danil couldn’t bring himself to believe that, not when the leylines were a bright presence seeking to gambol in the sunlight and fresh rivers and fertile soil. The pool rippled as if in agreement. It drew his attention back to the sodden parchment with its additional swirls and circles.

  He waved the parchment into the air. “This glyph is different, though. And it was kept safe by the well itself.”

  Sonnen shook his head in warning. “I see your thinking, Danil. Altering the glyph you carry would be most unwise. We cannot know how these extra lines will affect the enchantment,” he rumbled. “It may make it even more powerful.”

  The leylines whispered, trying to catch his attention.

  “But—” Danil began.

  “That Kaul’s glyph has returned now, to ride upon the flesh of Kailon’s first custodian.” Sonnen shook his head, a deep rumble in his chest. “We cannot ignore the possibility that a remnant of Kaul yet remains here. You must face the possibility, Danil, that the leylines may be compromised.”

  A grumbling entered Danil’s mind. Even his crystal turned a disagreeable yellow.

  “The glyph has to go,” Blutark muttered. “Sonnen, there are enough enchanters back at the camp that we can attempt a cleansing. Only then can we turn our attention to freeing the leylines of Kaul’s filth.”

  “A cleansing won’t remove the glyph,” Elania told Danil. “But it may quieten its effects.”

  Danil glanced at Hafryn to see him shrug. “I trust your judgment, fala.”

  Only a madman would want the glyph still on them. Danil lowered the parchment back into the water and nodded, though a nervous energy went through him.

  Blutark took the lead, stalking to the end of the grove and beginning the walk up the embankment.

  An enchanter met them at the top. She was sweaty and bleeding, eyes wild. Blutark steadied her with a grunt as she staggered.

  “My
prince,” she gasped out. “Magi are attacking the camp.”

  Hafryn threw Danil a shocked glance. Above the tree line, a funnel of smoke rose up where the camp sat. Reaching out to the leylines, Danil sensed only grumbling discontent rather than alarm.

  Sonnen glanced down at the glyph on Danil’s palm and growled. “What do we face?” he asked the enchanter.

  “Dozens. More are spreading out amongst the gullies,” she panted. “There was one magus—she somehow knew the best path to reach the camp. Her party ignored us when we tried to lead them into the scree fields.”

  Twin flames gathered in Sonnen’s eyes. “The magi cannot discover that the heart of the leylines resides beneath our feet. They must not reach this grove.”

  “We’d best hope you weren’t followed,” Hafryn told the enchanter.

  She shook her head. “I was sent ahead when we realized they’d come to destroy the camp.”

  In the distance, the smoke turned an angry orange as more of the camp burned.

  “Elania and Blutark, stay here with the custodian and Hafryn,” Sonnen commanded. “I’ll send more enchanters to defend the ridge.” He pointed at Danil. “Do not use the glyph, Danil.”

  Mouth thinning, Danil nodded.

  The dragon prince took the injured enchanter with him, both disappearing into the trees.

  “Blutark and I’ll stay up here,” Elania muttered, eyeing the terrain. She motioned to Blutark to find a hiding place amidst a thick stand of bracken ferns. “You two stay out of sight in the grove.” She studied them both and abruptly pulled Danil into a hug before similarly reeling Hafryn in. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she whispered to them.

  Easing back, Hafryn gave her a jaunty wink. “No promises, Elania.”

  Snorting, she waved them off to find her own hiding place in the greenery.

  Danil trotted down past the sparse vegetation to find a place behind a series of boulders set between the strange new pool and the mine entrance leading to Kaul’s temple.

  “Not ideal,” Hafryn said as he settled in beside him. “But it’ll have to do.”

  They waited in the quiet as smoke gradually drew closer.