“The darkness?” I asked. My skin prickled. Perhaps there was another option!
“Death,” she said simply, but with a small smile. Zyla gasped.
Yep. It always came to that. Do what we say, Tor – or die. See things our way – or die. Let us entrap you in our plans – or die. Well, it wasn’t going to be that way this time!
“I’ve never shirked my responsibility,” I lied, smiling as wide as I could. The scar on my hand felt hot. What was the deal with that thing? “And of course, I wouldn’t now.”
“We will have many years to teach you our ways,” she said with a smug expression.
“Actually,” I said, stepping up onto the top of one of the benches. “You’re going to need to tell me a few things pretty quickly because we’re working with a tight timeline here.”
I smiled at the confused looks around me – but this smile was genuine. There was only one way out of this trap. One last chance before they had me in a hold I could never leave alive – like a rabbit in the clutches of a constrictor snake.
“I need to be gone by nightfall. You said my responsibility is to prevent war, correct?”
There was a murmur that sounded like reluctant agreement.
“I can’t keep you whole or settle your disputes if we’re mired in a war – in fact, if I don’t prevent this war, there won’t be a Kav’ai to return to.” Now I let my voice grow hard. “I don’t think you want that. Tonight, I will fly from here with my dragon, Saboraak. Together, we will thwart the plans of your enemies. Ko’Torenth plans to take your resources and raze you to the ground. I have other plans.”
They looked uncertain, but I didn’t dare let them question me with specifics. I didn’t have any to offer them, just a desperate instinct to avoid being tied to a people I didn’t know and a fate I’d never bargained for.
“But don’t fear! I will not leave you without leadership.” I gestured to Bataar to join me. Reluctantly, with his mouth tight and body language angry, he stepped up to my bench. “I will leave Bataar – another Ko Bearer – to be my emissary to you while I am gone. He will fulfill the other parts of the bargain between us. He’ll settle disputes and remind you who you are while I prevent the war.”
There were more murmurs.
Bataar opened his mouth, his face red but I silenced him with a glare and the swipe of my hand.
“I will hear no objections. I stand for your ancestors as Ko’roi. Bataar, you are my choice. You will serve these people.”
He nodded, grim-faced. Ha! That’s what faith in precepts got you – responsibilities you couldn’t wiggle out of.
“Elders,” I said, letting my gaze pierce them – I didn’t dare show weakness, or they would run right over all my hopes. “You will be led by my emissary or feel my wrath. I am the future weaver. I will weave a future for you where there was none – but only if you heed my judgment on this. I leave tonight with my other allies.”
“But it is already past midday!” someone said.
“Then we must hurry.”
I leapt down from the bench, planning to rush away but a hand stopped me. The old man. The smart one.
“Can we not house your friends here?” he asked, a gleam in his eye. “Then they will be safe for when you return to us.”
“I’m afraid I need them with me,” I said breezily.
“At least one,” the man said, his hand squeezing on my shoulder.
“You wouldn’t happen to be Mynaar Bayonen, would you?” I asked.
“Yes,” the man said through his teeth and my heart sank. He was Bataar’s father and he’d figured out exactly what I was planning. “We’ll care for that friend of yours – Zin. Bataar tells me you are very attached to her safety. It would be a pity if she was in danger in her travels with you, don’t you think? And then, she will be here when you return to us.”
Our gazes met, and I knew exactly what he was saying. Either I left Zin here with him as a hostage, or he would destroy any hope I had of leaving here.
Bataar stood beside his father, but now he had concern in his eye and something else ... hope?
“Of course,” I said. What else could I say?
And I felt a weight sink onto my shoulders.
Chapter Six
I HADN’T BEEN ABLE to avoid the feast.
Hubric had. So, had the dragons and Zyla. Somehow, she was exempt from Ko Bearer activities now that a Ko’roi had been selected.
“What are you complaining about?” my mimic asked. “We haven’t eaten this good in ... well, in ever. No point going off chasing the moon on an adventure when there’s food to be eaten.”
He was right. I’d stuffed myself with fragrant goat cheese drizzled with honey and dried fruit so sweet it hurt my teeth. Flatbread filled with soft stringy meat in a spicy sauce came next and then a grain soaked in broth and butter and a flaky pie with a smooth filling that was both sweet and savory and ... I could go on. But I shouldn’t. In fact, I should have stopped eating about an hour in, but I couldn’t find the willpower to stop. Not now that I had so much food in front of me.
You’re going to make yourself sick. I took great care while you were healing to eat only what I needed. We can’t afford to be ill if we are going to save the world.
Saboraak, as always, took the sensible approach. The mimic and I were not quite so sensible. He’d been pushing me to eat more and more until my belly felt like it weighed more than the rest of me.
It probably does. How you expect to travel like that is beyond me.
I expected to travel happy. If these people were going to hold my friend captive – the least I could do was get the most food from them that I could. My gaze swiveled guiltily to Zin. She was sitting between the Elders receiving a woven scarf from Bataar for her head. She seemed pleased, but I knew she would put on a brave face no matter how she felt.
Bataar looked unnaturally happy. He still hadn’t spoken to me during the feast, but he spoke often to her and she smiled back at him. I hadn’t seen her say a single word. If he thought he could flirt with her, he should think again. I wouldn’t let anything hurt Zin – including boys who wanted to steal her heart.
Bataar means well. You should give him more credit. Besides, she will need someone to take care of her while we are gone.
I’d had to break the news to her before the feast.
“I have to leave you here,” I’d said, biting my lip as I waited for her to get upset. “The Elders want to get to know you.”
“For he shall be the weaver of the future, crowned by the sun and moon,” she said.
I scrubbed a hand through my hair awkwardly. “That was in there? Maybe you could give me a heads up about the next time the book says my life is going to be turned upside down.” My laugh sounded forced even to my ears. “Look, you should be safe, okay? I’ll keep the war from coming to you and Bataar seems to like you.”
“Yes,” she agreed.
“Yes, you’ll stay, or yes he likes you?”
“Both.” Her smile was devastating. I hated to leave her. But honestly, I couldn’t keep her safe where I was going anyway.
“Just take care, okay?”
She nodded and then Bataar had arrived and swept her away without looking at me. At least he would be a friend for her here – as much as that worried me.
She tells him things she doesn’t tell you. Things about the prophecies.
There was more than what she told me? Who would have thought?
She comforts him. He has a broken heart.
And an angry glare. But I didn’t have time to think about Bataar.
I didn’t talk to him at the feast, either. I should have been finding a way to leave with peace between us, but there just wasn’t time.
“Not if you want another serving of that meat,” my mimic hinted.
I stood up from my seat, stretching lazily as the happy sounds of people enjoying themselves surrounded me. The elders had thrown the feast under colorful canopies in the green valley. There w
ere cliff faces nearby, but the valley was rich and green. Hundreds of people had come to eat together and celebrate. They must have already been preparing it while I was still recovering.
I could get used to these people if they didn’t want to make me their sacrifice or leader or future bearer or whatever. They seemed like a happy sort. They prepared a lot of food. They were singing. A few men were banging drums with their hands in a way that you would think would be irritating, but it was actually pretty soothing. Yeah, I could get used to them.
“Which is why as the future weaver, the precepts are so important. You will use them to recreate a new world. Here – of course – the future of our peoples, but also in the World of Legends. It is destroyed, but it is up to you to reweave the whole of it.”
Oh yeah – except for Berun. That turned out to be the rapt Elder’s name and boy could she talk. She’d been following me around through the entire feast babbling about what it meant to be the future weaver. I smiled politely and nodded sagely when required but my mind was more on stopping a war than any kind of existential quest. And eating. My mind was definitely on eating.
“Just as you will reweave our culture at this time of crisis. As magic dwindles, another path forward must be found, and you must weave it for us. We have been disentangled from our brothers, the Ko’Torenth peoples. Perhaps you will weave us back together given enough time. As it was in the past so it will be again in the future, world without end.”
“Mmmhmm,” I said, as her sing-song tone rolled over me, but my eyes were searching for something. I’d heard a sound just now – an off-note in the middle of the party. A shift in the breeze. Something not right. I couldn’t pick out what it was, but my skin prickled in response and I climbed out from under the sheltering canopies and happy festivities into the blazing sun and the desert sands.
What had called me out? What had changed?
Something whizzed through the air above my head.
I ducked instinctually. Saboraak?!
It’s not me.
Fire blossomed across the canopy tops, lighting them aflame and then the screaming began.
Chapter Seven
“DUST STORM!” BERUN yelled. “Hurry to the caves!”
But there was more than a storm. I could see the dust devils whipping up around us, yellow dust swirling angrily as if the ground were attacking the sky. But the storm wasn’t the only thing in the air.
A dark shape had passed over us.
In the pavilions, chaos ruled as the Kav’ai fled their banqueting tables to the caves in the cliff walls close to the valley. Crying children clutched by frantic parents, young people helping the quavering elderly, warriors leading and pushing and cajoling to the people to flee – all rushing past me.
I was watching the sky.
“You must hurry, Ko’roi! There is a hiding spot not far!” Berun tugged at my arm.
I barely heard her. I could see the tiny black dot in the distance. Other black dots were joining it. I knew this enemy like I knew my own mind. I’d fought them. I’d been them.
Flying golems.
At least a dozen – maybe twenty. I had no idea that they produced so many already. I swallowed, ignoring the dust and the screams and the frantic tugging of Berun. The dust storm made it hard to see them well enough to count them.
I knew these well enough to know that we couldn’t fight them. Kyrowat and Saboraak could, but two dragons against twenty golems? I didn’t like those odds.
Go! I shouted through the bond to Saboraak. Take Zyla and Hubric and go!
They should be done loading by now. They should be ready.
We are ready for the journey, but we won’t leave you!
Leave! You must leave, Saboraak!
I can’t see you through the storm. Where are you? From the sky, everything is a swirl of dust.
I forced her from my mind. Maybe if I was distant, she would go as I asked. No need for all of them to die with me. I could feel what was going to happen next as if I was watching threads being woven into a pattern – though I could see nothing but swirling dust.
The golems were going to circle around in formation. They would fly low over the valley so that they could use their fire rods to flame the people fleeing them. Then they would assault the entrances to the caves.
I could see it all as clear as day. My hand pulsed feeling slightly cool again, and I looked down to see the doorway scar pulsing an eerie blue.
“Your mark, Ko’roi!” Berun said in awe. “What vision did you see? Whatever it was is truth. That’s what the pulsing means! Does it feel cool to the touch? It will feel hot if you are near a lie and cool if you are near the truth.”
So, we were definitely going to die?
“Seems like more of a curse to know that,” my mimic opined. He was leaning casually against one the posts of the pavilion.
He was the curse. Why had I wished him on myself?
“It was convenient for you at the time, and you’re not really the type to think things through.”
My gaze was searching for a way out. Any way out.
“We’ll be trapped in the caves,” I muttered.
“Not if we hurry,” Berun said, still pulling me.
The last people were leaving the pavilions – among them Zin and Bataar. Berun paused beside me.
“The people flee, they panic, but the chosen one is strong,” she said. “His path is clear and true. His way is set before him.”
“Lucky,” I muttered. If only things like that were as easy as they were in prophecy. If only there was some clear way to stop mechanical devils like that.
“He bars them in with walls of rocks. He finds their salvation.”
“If only there were walls of rocks,” I muttered.
“There are,” Berun said. “That’s why you have to hurry!”
“What?”
I finally looked at her. Those big, pleading eyes were full of something more than just fear.
“You heard her,” Bataar growled, turning to look over his shoulder at us. He and Zin lagged at the back of the fleeing crowd. “There’s a way to be safe if you don’t hold us all back with your delays!”
“Tell me,” I said, grabbing Berun’s hand and pulling her along with me.
Bataar and Zin were right in front of us. He helped her gently over the rocks, hurrying but still attentive. I couldn’t see the people fleeing before us. Only the last few were still visible in the swirling storm.
All my thinking had only taken minutes. We were just steps from the end of the crowd, only minutes behind the rest, though they were swallowed up by dust.
“We have fortified these caves over many generations. There are stores here. Enough to last a month,” Berun said, raising his voice.
“It’s too far to run!”
“There’s a doorway in the nearby cliffs.”
“You won’t last an hour with those things burrowing in!” I said.
“Well, we can – but that’s the difficult part,” Bataar said. “Someone needs to close the doors and that can only be done from the outside. And then, when the danger is passed, they must open them again. But they have to survive to do that.”
“How do you close the doors?” I asked. “And will they be strong enough to hold against such monstrous power?”
“Easily,” Bataar laughed bitterly. “They are carved of stone, a work of a generation. They slide into place – like the cover of a tomb. But that’s the problem. Anyone in there would be entombed – their only help a person from outside. How long do you think those golems will stay here waiting for us to come out? Days? Weeks? That’s how long the person outside would have to survive to open the doors. And until then, the Elders here would be cut off from the rest of our people. They would be leaderless. The Elders here are gathered from among all the people. They came to see me survive my Trial and rise to lead them.”
His voice was bitter.
“But couldn’t that person leave and come back again?” I ask
ed. “Flee and return later?”
Bataar snorted. “If they flee, is there any guarantee they would return?”
“I wouldn’t,” my mimic said. “Those golems would set a trap for that person once they figured out what was happening.”
“How do you close the doors?” I asked.
“See that tall peak?” Berun asked, gesturing to a tower-like peak that rose over the place where I had woken earlier that afternoon.
“I do.”
“At the top of that peak is a hollowed cave and in the cave is a stone wheel. You turn the wheel to close the doors. To open – ”
Her words were lost in the violence of the wind as it beat us with sand and wind. It was so harsh it almost knocked me over.
As if the golems hadn’t been bad enough, now the desert was rising against us!
Could things get any worse?
Chapter Eight
I SQUINTED MY EYES against the beating wind. Bataar had raised his scarf – a dust veil, I realized now – and I quickly followed his movement, raising the dust veil I’d been given, too.
Berun could hardly keep her feet. I held her close, trying to take the brunt of the wind. Her old lungs struggled against the beating of wind and sand. Bataar had Zin tucked in to his own chest, almost carrying her against the push of the wind. We were side by side now, struggling against the onslaught.
“Is this normal?” I yelled over the wind.
“Nothing about this is normal,” my mimic said, chewing at a piece of fruit from the feast.
“No!” Bataar yelled over the wind. “The golems’ flight must have kicked it up – or maybe the magic that powers them. Dust storms happen, but usually, you can see them coming over the horizon or guess they will crop up when the sun shines on the sand a certain way.”
“I can’t see the others!” I yelled. I couldn’t hear Saboraak either. If she hadn’t already fled as I’d asked her to.
We’re caught in our own storm. I told you we would not leave without you.
You must, Saboraak. And that’s an order.
Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 5-8 (Dragon Chameleon Omnibuses Book 2) Page 17