Quest of the Dreamwalker (The Corthan Legacy Book 1)

by Stacy Bennett

  She moved off him with a soft smile. “You’re right, of course. I shouldn’t want to ruin that loyalty I admire. Though I must admit to disappointment.” She gave him a cheeky grin that only tugged harder at him.

  “There will be another man for you,” he said, realizing only after he said it what thin comfort that was on the eve of battle.

  Falin snorted with dark humor. “In truth, I came here with a completely different offer in mind,” she said, retrieving her pouch from the furs where she’d left it. “You know now that my allegiance is wholly yours. I have made no vow to the Sisters of the Haven. Would you claim the Huntress they rejected, Captain? Will you let me swear fealty as your Sword?”

  Now her questions made sense. All passion had fled from her eyes. She was no longer his would-be lover, but a warrior wanting a place to belong.

  “I think we could make room for you,” he teased.

  She grinned and pulled a small ceramic pot from her pouch. Inside was a dark creamy substance. The aroma of bitter berries filled his nose.

  She knelt before him, placed the pot on the ground, and the wolf-headed dagger made a cut in the pad of her thumb. Blood dripped into the pot, and she mixed it in with fingers that came away covered with a deep-purple dye.

  “What’s that?” he asked, though his attention was on curly golden tendrils that dangled near her neck.

  “Blackthorns, razor berries, and blood. Now, hush.” Suddenly serious, she cleared her throat and stared into his eyes.

  “I swear by the love of the Old Mothers.” She placed three dots of purple on her skin over her heart, below the mountain cat scars.

  “And by the hate of the Thorns.” She drew a line of purple down the blade of her knife.

  “That I will be your sword.” Grabbing his right hand palm up, she drew a line from his wrist to his middle finger with a smaller line crossing it.

  “And your shield.” She picked up his left arm, palm down, and drew the interlocked leaf pattern from her bracers.

  “To give you truth, when you are blind.” The three dots crested each of his eyebrows.

  “And courage when you fear.” She drew a rune he didn’t recognize over his heart.

  “And if the battle is lost.” Her voice cracked just a little as she grabbed his left hand and dragged her knife across the pad, then did the same to her own hand.

  “I will sing you home with honor.” She pressed her palm to his, blood to blood, and kissed their joined hands, placing her forehead to their twined knuckles.

  “This, Mason Khoury, is my solemn vow.”

  He waited until she sat up and he could see her face. “Huntress, your loyalty is an honor I don’t yet deserve, but I will endeavor to earn it.”

  “I will get Cara back for you. That I promise.” She hesitated and then kissed him one more time. This time only a gentle touch of lips, full of sadness and longing. He pulled her into his arms, wondering at how right she felt up against him, like they had already been lovers.

  She laughed into his lips and stood. “I will see you tomorrow.” With a heartfelt Sister salute, she ducked out of the tent and into the night.

  CARA WATCHED THE layers of clouds scudding past the small window set high up in her room. She pulled the thin blanket closer against the perpetual chill of the Keep. She didn’t withstand the cold as easily as she remembered. Over the last few days, she’d sifted through the images she could remember from Sidonius’s mind to see if there was anything to help her escape. But there wasn’t. A castle in the waves, a crib, an orange crystal point, and rainbow-colored mists were about all she could remember. She wondered if he was mad, or if maybe she was the mad one.

  Footsteps in the hall warned her of Sidonius’s approach. When the door opened, Cara refused to look at him, keeping her eyes on the sky though she felt the cool darkness that surrounded him even at a distance.

  “Today is the day,” he said with a cheerful tone.

  Suspicion made her heart beat faster. “What do you mean?” Cara had dreaded the punishment she was sure would follow her brazen attempt to read him. Yet he did nothing beyond lock her in her room. Now that he stood before her, larger than life and cloaked with darkness, she knew the end had finally come.

  “You’ll see.” He touched her shackles with his staff and they fell away. Then he motioned her through the door before him and followed, keeping his distance.

  Her thoughts turned to Khoury and Sidonius’s prediction that he would come. Part of her hoped he wouldn’t. She kept the thin blanket wrapped around her shoulders, trying to hide the trembling that shook her slender frame. She told herself it was the cold. Glancing behind, she noted that his weathered face was once again smooth. His thin, bent frame had filled out. Manic energy shot out of his red-rimmed eyes. The oily smile he gave her sent shivers up her spine. And the cloak of dark energy had spread and lengthened.

  Cara’s heart sat heavy in her chest as she climbed the tower stairs with ponderous steps. Though she had always survived the draining ritual before, she knew she would die today. Absently, Cara gazed out the window that faced south on the final landing.

  A cloud of dust caught her eye where the road met sky. “No,” she breathed in panic.

  “Yes,” hissed a voice behind her ear carried on fetid breath. “He rides to your rescue. How touching. Unfortunately, none of you will survive the day.” He gestured down in the courtyard near the barn and laughed.

  A massive shape was curled up behind the curtain wall, hidden from the outside of the Keep. Cara squinted in the weak light unable to make out what it was. Then she recognized the shape. It was a dragon.

  A trap!

  Frantic to warn Khoury, she cast about for an escape.

  “It’s hopeless,” Sidonius said with a slow smile that stole the warmth from her body. She stared into his arrogant face and felt her will drain away. How many years had she been helpless before him? Her eyes darted to the window again. But she wasn’t that girl anymore. She couldn’t escape but maybe there was something else she could do.

  She bounced on her toes, wanting more than anything to get away from the darkness that surrounded him.

  Anticipating her flight, he caught her arm in an iron grip. “Don’t try anything. You’ve caused me enough trouble already.”

  He was so close she could smell the dust that pervaded his being. Close enough to touch. She grabbed him, holding tight to his hand and let the memories tumble through her. Strangely, her vision showed her Falin. He hadn’t wanted Khoury at all. He was after the Huntress, and she saw again the orange crystal. She was distracted by her own magic as it throbbed with wanting to heal him. How could her magic want that when Cara despised his every breath?

  Could he be healed? Could the entity be banished?

  This time, Sidonius was prepared for her trick. He tore her hand from his arm and pushed her through the door. The once frail sorcerer sent her careening into the stone altar. Then he entered and closed the door behind him.

  THE KEEP LOOMED darkly against the pale sky though low clouds hid the sun. Khoury had feared Sidonius would bring storms. Of course, there was still time for that.

  Archer rode next to him along with Bradan. And Falin. He’d lost that argument the night before when she’d painted courage on his chest. Then again, it felt right that she should be here with him. She caught his eye from beneath a silver helm and rolled her eyes. It had taken a heated argument and much cajoling by Bradan to get her to wear the damn thing. But if Sidonius knew she was here and wanted her, it was far better she remain inconspicuous. She’d relented finally, mumbling something about not trusting her.

  Behind them stretched the company of warriors, almost two hundred and twenty by this morning’s count. He wondered briefly how many he would lead home again.

  The Keep looked as abandoned as he remembered, but Sidonius would never have let them get this far if he wasn’t prepared. Caution was the order of the day. He stopped the corps more than an arrow’s flight from
the walls. The main gate stood wide open and he could see straight into the empty bailey. His eyes scanned the battlements for movement. The dark castle was quiet as a tomb.

  He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle, trying to lessen the ache in his side. Falin had done a good job but the pounding pace they’d set that morning had done him no favors.

  “Looks too easy,” Bradan said.

  “Probably is,” Khoury agreed. “Archer, send a spare horse.”

  Archer galloped back toward the wagon and grabbed one of the extra mounts. Running the animal toward the open door, he slapped the horse’s rump and pulled up to let it gallop through alone. Passing unharmed through the doorway, the horse slowed and wandered aimlessly about the bailey beyond the gate.

  “I’d expected fire,” Khoury grumbled. Though there had been no flaming ward on the main gate, he was sure one guarded the door to the hall. But he had a plan for that.

  He signaled for the men to advance. Behind him, the mixed group of the Elite Guardsmen and mercenaries under Wallace’s captain, a man by the name of Tolliver, followed on the right. Violet headed up the mercenary forces on the left. The ballistae and catapult trailed the main company with a small rearguard, accompanied by the supply wagons. Ellis was in charge of those.

  They trotted to the gate wary of arrows, but none were launched. No sign of catapult or oil. No heads or weapons peeking through the embrasures. Khoury led his men straight into the open bailey where they were flanked by warriors in leather armor. The guards were few in number and not very skilled. Khoury’s forces divided to defend the sides while leaving room between to allow more of his horsemen inside the wall. The captain wheeled his horse, shouting directions on both flanks. Beyond the melee, open lawn stretched the length of the stronghold without much in the way of cover. To the right, the bailey ended in sheer mountain cliffs rising upward. To the left, the wall circled around the Keep.

  Under the leadership of Tolliver and Violet, half of the warriors dismounted for hand-to-hand. It was an eerie battle. Though swords clanged and horses neighed, their enemy uttered not one word. The fighting spilled from the central gate area to either side as the defenders’ lines were broken.

  Archer, with Bradan at his side, remained mounted in the center, picking targets out of the turmoil. And Falin, too, with bow in hand, sat atop her horse tucked in behind the Northerners.

  Khoury glanced back out through the gate and waved to Ellis who held the siege machines and rearguard in the dead ground beyond the walls.

  Khoury had expected greater resistance. Certainly, Sidonius knew he would bring at least a company against the stronghold. For a moment, Khoury wondered if he had been tricked. Perhaps Sidonius and Cara had fled to another hideout.

  Falin pulled her horse closer to him as he watched his men clean up the remaining defenders. “What if she’s not here?” he murmured.

  The Huntress lifted her gaze to the looming towers, her head tilted as if listening. “She’s here,” she said with eerie surety. She pointed to the defenders as they fell silently before the trained Elite. “Recognize those looks?”

  They had the same vacant expressions as the men in Iolair. “Conscripts,” he said. These men had all been taken from their homes and bent to Sidonius’s will. Renewed anger surged and he itched to get inside the Keep. Then, a shadow fell across the yard.

  “Mothers’ love,” Falin swore beside him, then she bellowed, “Dragon!”

  All eyes looked to the sky. A winged serpent soared over the bailey on leathery wings that stretched as wide as five wagons end-to-end. Its armor-plated underbelly gleamed dully. The beast roared so loud the stones of the Keep reverberated with the noise.

  At the sight of the monster, Khoury’s men fell back, and even he felt a knot of dread. But the wind wizard had warned them. He steadied his horse as best he could and tried to rally his men. The conscripts ignored the serpent and fought on while Khoury’s men backpedaled in shock. The alarm spread quickly to the rear where Ellis and his men scrambled to ready the ballistae.

  The dragon glided past the outer wall and banked into a lazy loop over the tundra, coming back over the battleground a second time.

  The ballistae were ready by the time the dragon neared the large archway. At Ellis’s signal, the thunk of the launchers echoed off the stones and the first large steel-headed spear sped past the dragon’s nose. As the beast swerved, the second bolt caught it where shoulder met wing. The dragon screamed in pain and dropped heavily out of the air, crashing into a section of wall and landing in the bailey near the gate. A few defenders, as well as some of Khoury’s men, were crushed. The beast roared with pain, and its thrashing tail scattered hunks of black stone from the broken wall across the battlefield.

  Those still outside the gate drew back out of range, but the wounded dragon lay between Khoury’s horsemen and safety. It struggled in the dirt, scraping at its wound. Finally, it managed to break off the shaft with an enormous clawed foot and howled, shaking the black stones once more. The serpent heaved to all fours, hissing angrily. Then it advanced slowly on the men, standing in the center of the bailey.

  Khoury did his best to rally them. Archer had dismounted, bow in hand, and was attempting to outflank the beast for a better shot.

  Unhurried, the dragon’s flat head weaved slowly side to side. It had no fear of the men. Beyond it, Ellis’s men were resetting the ballistae. Then the dragon reared back. Its giant mouth opened and took in a rush of air. Khoury knew what it intended.

  “Take cover!” he yelled and leapt from his horse to duck behind a nearby piece of wall. Falin rolled over the same bit of rubble and landed on top of him as a jet of flame swept the yard. The captain shifted under her. “You okay?”

  She chuckled. “Never better,” and pushed off him with a feral grin.

  Did nothing dampen her spirits? He could have used a dozen more like her. He peeked over the stone. His men were sprawled across the bailey, all still alive. There were even some horses milling about near the Keep proper. The ground was not even singed.

  “Told you he wasn’t going to let you burn,” the captain said to the Huntress. “He’s got bigger things planned.”

  “Not sure I’d count that as good news,” she countered. “Now what?”

  “Ellis needs to get that inner door. The catapult should be ready, but the damned dragon’s in the way.”

  The beast sprayed the battleground with another gout of fire. They ducked down behind the blackened rubble, but again it was only a threat. Khoury’s men hid behind scattered pieces of battlement, safe for the moment, but they were pinned down. They needed that door opened.

  “We need to get the lizard out of the way.”

  “Okay,” Falin said and she stood up.

  “Do you have a plan?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she said, peeking around the stone, “kind of. When that thing leaves, make sure you hurry up and get that door down. I don’t know how long I can hold it.”

  “Wait, you can’t just go out there.”

  “You just said it won’t flame me, remember?”

  Khoury’s gut tightened. “Sacrificing yourself won’t help Cara.” His fists clenched, wanting to shake some sense into her.

  “She’s alive and she’s scared, Captain. I can’t tell you how I know that, but I do. I promised to help you get her back and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” She reached out and laid her hand over his heart, over the symbol she’d traced in her own blood.

  Courage, he thought sourly.

  Then she unslung her bow and nocked an arrow. Another gush of flame roared over their heads.

  “Find us soon. You know how I hate castles.” Then she ran out from behind their little bit of rubble.

  “Falin, no!”

  She turned and winked at him, still only a stone’s throw from where he crouched.

  As she stood in the bailey, he feared the dragon He it would notice her, feared letting her out of his sight. The loss of Cara still burne
d, fueling the magic that came unbidden to his tongue.

  “COME BACK,” he Commanded her. He’d never cast so powerfully before, but he was more shocked that he’d done so without regard to her desires.

  She stared at him quizzically, and he thought she’d obey. Then she shook her head and turned toward the dragon. He hadn’t swayed her in the least.

  She launched an arrow that struck the beast in the sensitive lining of its nose, assuring herself of its attention. Her next arrow bounced off its eyebrow. The creature rumbled with irritation. Its wings beat hard, lifting up its front end as the chest swelled with air. It was going to breathe again.

  She jumped behind a piece of wall just before the gout of flame rushed by. Khoury didn’t know where she’d found the horse but the next moment she charged by on horseback across the bailey, away from the gate. The creature took a step toward her but swayed, preparing to flame again.

  Then the Huntress did the unthinkable. She pulled the helm from her head and tossed it away. In the hot updraft of wind from the creature’s wings, her yellow hair splayed out like a banner.

  The dragon gave a cry like a hawk, only deeper and far more terrible. Then, it charged after her. Cursing Falin’s stubbornness, Khoury regretted bringing her along. He ran toward his men shouting instructions and waving a signal to Ellis. They had to get that door blown before the dragon returned.

  THE DRAGON TOOK the bait just like she planned. But as her panicked horse bolted, Falin wondered if maybe she’d been a little hasty. Her mare ran flat out, ears pinned and white-rimmed eyes rolling. The scent of musty leather and soot wafted over them in puffs of hot air as the dragon gained ground. It was faster than she’d have thought with a wounded wing. She sent a quick prayer to the Mothers that Sidonius still wanted her alive, otherwise she was done.

  In a burst of wind and pain, the dragon pounced on them, knocking Falin and the horse to the ground. Her bow skittered away across the barren dirt. The serpent crushed the borrowed mare in its talons as Falin rolled to face it, scrambling backward in the dirt. She couldn’t get a good angle to pull her sword, so she reached for Khoury’s knife as the predatory yellow eyes turned on her. Like a giant cat it crouched, its dark vertical pupils widening at her every move. Before she could scramble to her feet and run, it scooped her up in one front claw. The gaping mouth rushed down at her.