She…
She sat down in her chair heavily. She couldn’t destroy it.
How could she be so weak? If this were any other of her magical items, it would have been the matter of a moment, and the offending bauble would have been gone. She understood now that even from the first, the dragon scale had wormed into her heart and woven a shell of protection around itself. She couldn’t destroy it.
“Amber…”
She opened her eyes and turned to see Granite standing in the doorway.
“I had hoped to have this done before you awakened,” she whispered, glancing away guiltily.
He sighed. “What are you doing now, Amber? What sort of last-minute spell has demanded your attention? You’re not even dressed, and we need to be in the Room of the Knife before Reuben and Petra reach it, which could be any minute now.”
“I was trying to do as you asked.” She waved a hand towards her desk. “But I haven’t the strength.”
A moment later, he was at her side and had placed his hand on her shoulder. There was a flicker of hope in his voice. “So, you’ve chosen me, after all?”
“I should have spoken my vow aloud so that I couldn’t put anyone or anything above you, save Yehu,” she said, hanging her head. “Then this would not have happened. I’ve known the dragon was a monster, but I loved the power it gave me and I thought that I could control it. It swelled my pride to be able to glimpse the future for myself and not rely on Laura to tease me. I’ve been lying to myself all these years. I’m so sorry, Granite.”
“Then…” His grip on her shoulder tightened.
“I lack the will to destroy it.” Amber shook her head. “I want to, I desperately want to, but I cannot bring myself to do it.” On impulse, she grabbed his hand and shoved the second palik into it. “You have no love for it. Do it, before I change my mind.”
He nodded firmly. He brought up his arm for the quick motion that would destroy it, and…
Before he could bring it down, Amber grabbed the scale and shoved it back into its pocket, scarcely aware of what she was doing. He hesitated a moment, then set the palik down gently and turned to her.
“Amber…”
She put a hand over the pocket.
“But it’s so powerful…” she whispered.
“Amber!”
The edge in his voice sent a shudder through her. She hung her head again. “I want to destroy it – I really do! But … let’s wait until after the battle! My dragon form might be useful, after all.”
He released a heavy sigh, and she winced at the pain of it, the disappointment. “Very well,” he said. “But it will be destroyed immediately at the end of the battle, you understand, or I will leave. I’m sorry that it has to be this way, but otherwise, you won’t think I’m serious. And I am serious. Very serious. I won’t live with the dragon any longer.”
“I understand,” whispered Amber, standing. Their time was limited.
“But perhaps we’ll get lucky, and we’ll both die today. Then you won’t have to face that decision.”
Amber’s stomach twisted, but she nodded. “I should get dressed, but…” She raised her head to meet his gaze. “Granite, can we pray first?”
A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth, and he took both of her hands between his. “Of course.”
His prayer was short and straightforward, but it was water to her thirsty soul. How long had it been since they had last prayed together? How long had it been since she had prayed?
Far too long.
“Alphego,” she whispered when Granite had finished. “I’ve turned my back on You all these years. I’ve fought against You, even as I had the gall to think that I was in the right. All I ask is for a chance to correct my ways, though I don’t deserve it. And if that is not to be, guide young Petra. Don’t let her stray onto the path I took.”
It didn’t take Amber long to put on a dress, tie back her hair, and slip some items into her pockets. Armor was not permitted in the Room of the Knife – you had to rely on your skill alone.
Granite armed himself with two swords, several knives, and even an ax. Amber smiled and shook her head as she watched him select his weapons. How the man loved his weapons!
And then they went to the Room of the Knife, entered by a secret door that Laura had shown them only a few days before, and took their places to wait for Petra and Reuben. Their hearts pounded furiously as they stared at the massive stone doors that would open all too soon.
Amber dreaded death, but her life could only be purchased at the price of Petra’s. Was that fair? Certainly not! Petra was young and innocent. Amber was the one who deserved to die. She winced as she recalled all of the lives she had stolen. It was true that many had been merely turned to ice – but that had been as good as death in Lintooalintae and on the Isle of Banishment. She called Petra’s own sister to mind, whose life Amber had taken out of pure spite.
Petra would give Amber no mercy, and Amber didn’t deserve it.
She gasped as the stone doors suddenly turned transparent so that they could see Reuben and Petra following Laura towards them through the hallway, talking among themselves. Reuben was laughing, Petra was rolling her eyes, and Laura was smiling.
“It seems we are to witness their vows,” said Granite, sliding his arm around Amber’s waist. A moment later, he added, “They appear to be well rested.”
“Yes…” Amber admitted, leaning into him. “They do.”
“And Laura seems far more cheerful than she was when we walked that path.”
“Yes. She is.”
Was Laura excited to see their death?
Laura summoned the table from the floor, and it opened to reveal the knives Amber and Granite had used to kill her parents six thousand years before. Petra and Reuben took their places on either side of it. Petra took the amber knife. Reuben took the granite. When Amber and Granite had taken them up, they had been jade and jasper, the names of Amber’s parents. What would they change to for Reuben and Petra? Petra’s name meant “rock,” but that was not a specific stone.
The pair hesitated as they held the blades against their fingers. Amber wondered if they understood the nature of the magic they were about to use or if they were hesitating at the thought of pain.
Then as one, Reuben and Petra sliced their fingers. The wounds healed immediately, as Amber knew they would, but then the knives dissolved. Amber gasped, glancing up at Granite. When they had used the knives to form their bond, the knives had merely changed color. Did the fact that Reuben and Petra didn’t have the proper names destroy the knives?
A dust-like light swirled around on the table, reforming into a new knife which was a solid, shining white too bright to look at.
Laura said something. Petra nodded, picked the knife up, and slid it into her belt. The table retreated back into the floor. Reuben and Petra smiled as they stepped together and shared the kiss that would seal their bond … had they spoken one? Amber realized that they hadn’t.
They were no longer smiling when they pulled away, and they turned and walked hand-in-hand towards the stone door.
“That isn’t their first kiss,” Granite observed. But there was nothing more to be said before the door slid open.
It was time for the Final War, and Amber knew that it would be far different than any of the queens had faced before her.
Chapter 11
Amber and Granite were waiting for them.
No. Sylvia and Richard were waiting for them, Petra corrected herself. They just didn’t know their true names yet.
“We have come to our Final Battle at last,” said Granite. “Unlike when we faced Jade and Jasper before us, there is only one knife and not two.”
Reuben broke into a grin. “Oh, yeah. Laura said that what happened was unusual. It seems that, because we were already Tied after the Rizkan fashion and had already said our vows, the knives couldn’t join us. Instead, we joined them.”
“Ah,” said Granite. “I suspected as m
uch. I may not be an expert on Amber’s magical items, but that seemed to be the most logical explanation.”
“It is time for the final war,” said Amber. “It will be more challenging with only one knife, but it can still be fought.”
Petra paused to stare at the queen. Was it just her imagination, or was there something different about Amber today? Was her voice not as strong? Her eye not as sharp? Her posture not as severe? Amber hadn’t even made a single move to fight. “We did not come this day to kill you.”
Something flickered in Amber’s face, but she shook her head. “This is our final war,” she said. “Two of us will die this day.”
“Reuben and I faced the challenges of the Hall of Blood,” said Petra, “but we didn’t pass them the way you and the queens and kings before you did. We passed the challenge of Courage, not with endurance, but by releasing a wave of truth that dispelled the illusion and unlocked the challenge of Honesty so that we merely had to walk through those doors when we reached them. You see what happened when we faced the challenge of Love.” She touched the knife at her belt.
“Your powers as king and queen of Eliue might have allowed you to change the rules of the Hall, but this room is different … and you can’t avoid the prophecies of Alphego, Petra.”
“One shall speak the other’s death,” Petra quoted. She shook her head. “Prophecies are rarely straightforward. I didn’t come to kill you. I came to save my sister.”
Amber shook her head. “I killed her. She’s dead. It was a rash act, one of far too many that I have allowed my dragonfire to make me do. I’m sorry, but you can’t save her.”
There was definitely something different about Amber today. Her air of confidence and malice was gone. She seemed, well, broken. Petra shared a glance with Reuben. This was, perhaps, a good thing.
“You killed Sarah, yes,” Petra admitted, softening her voice. “And I’ll confess that I hated you for it. But I have another sister. Reuben and I are both triplets, not twins, though magic erased that memory from the minds of all who knew them, even from themselves. But as King and Queen of Eliue, our memories aren’t easily altered.”
Amber drew back, but not in confusion. It was clear from her expression that she understood what Petra meant and that she was torn over the revelation. Finally, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Petra, but this is my Final War. One of us must die today.”
“I didn’t come here to kill you,” Petra repeated a third time. She took a step forward. “Laura explained the rules of this room to us. As King and Queen of Eliue, Rueben and I can change them, because we remember you, as you were before you became Amber and Granite. I came to save you, Sylvia.”
The name shook the room, and Amber – Sylvia – gave a gasp, as if in pain and clutched a hand to her heart.
“I … what did you do to her?” Granite demanded, rushing to his wife’s side.
“She spoke her real name,” said Reuben, quietly, though not without a small grin. “Richard.”
The room shook again, and it was Granite’s – Richard’s – turn to gasp and clutch his chest.
Sylvia was the first to recover. Catching her breath, she looked up at Petra with a wondering expression. “Petra…” she whispered. “You…”
“By speaking your names, they have restored your mortality,” said Laura, stepping into the room, a grin playing on her face. “The cloths no longer hold control over you, nor can they gain control over Reuben and Petra, because they didn’t actually kill you.”
“But, how…” Sylvia shook her head. “You’ve said that only you could break the cycle.”
“That is for me to worry about.” Laura’s expression tightened. “The magic isn’t broken, but it no longer has a hold on you. Because of the knives, you and Granite are still bound as before, so you needn’t worry about that. Don’t rejoice yet, however. The Final War is only halfway fought.”
Petra stepped forward. “I came to save you, Sylvia, and not just by restoring your memories. I have to protect Rizkaland. It’s my duty to destroy the dragon plaguing it.”
Sylvia slid her hand into one of her pockets. “I … I understand. I … tried to destroy it this morning, actually, honestly tried, but hadn’t the strength. But perhaps you…” She pulled a black scale out of her pocket, then rushed forward and shoved it into Petra’s hand.
It was Petra’s turn to gasp and stagger backward in pain as her mind was forced into an immediate and intense connection with her sister’s. Sylvia wasn’t aware of it, but with the scale in hand, Petra was barraged with the information from all of Sylvia’s senses as well as her own, could hear Sylvia’s thoughts, and saw all of her memories.
Six thousand years was a staggering amount of time.
“I can see why you couldn’t do it,” said Petra, at last, once she had sorted through the mess to find herself again. “Its power is strong and has knit tightly with your life. It would have been like killing yourself, and your survival instinct is too strong.”
“Yes…” Sylvia whispered, ducking her head in shame. “I … I have a set of disks in my study that can destroy any magical item. Should we go fetch it?”
Petra shook her head as she pulled the knife from her belt. “The Palika won’t be necessary. Laura told us that this knife can destroy the scale. There is no need for us to waste time.”
Sylvia took a step backward, nodding. “Very well. Do it. Do it quickly.”
Petra held the scale against the wall since she needed some resistance that wasn’t her hand, and there weren’t any tables in this room. However, as she drew her hand back to stab the offending item with the knife, Sylvia gave a sudden cry of, “NO!” and rushed forward again.
Petra spun around, holding the knife between them as she thrust the scale behind her back. “I know this is difficult for you,” she whispered, shaking her head. “But this is the best way.”
Sylvia drew back, nodding, but as Petra turned back to actually destroy the thing, Sylvia suddenly shifted into her dragon form. Richard and Reuben scrambled out of the way, for she wasn’t a small dragon. Petra had barely enough time to duck and dodge out of the way of a stream of fire.
“Stop it!” she shouted, gripping the scale tighter, though it burned her fingers. Closing her eyes, she focused on the connection between them. It was different than the one she shared with Reuben, and because of the scale, it was far more intense. She found Sylvia’s mind both familiar and foreign at the same time. Quickly, though as gently as she could, she mentally forced Sylvia into taking her human form again.
“I promised myself that I’d never do anything like that,” said Petra, shaking her head as Sylvia stared at her in horror. “But I don’t want you in dragon form when I do this. Somehow, I don’t think you’d survive the experience.”
Sylvia pressed a hand against her head. Petra winced at the discomfort she had caused her sister. “How did you do that?”
“It seems that your bond to the scale, my power as Queen of Eliue, and the fact that we’re identical twins created a link between our minds when you put the scale into my hand,” explained Petra. “I’m so sorry, but…”
But Sylvia wasn’t upset at all. She rushed forward, an excited thirst for knowledge welling up within her, though she didn’t grasp the full implication of what Petra had said. “A mental link? I had no idea the scale could do anything like that. We have to investigate it!”
Petra took a step backward, shaking her head. “When the scale has been destroyed, we can investigate to your heart’s content. This thing might have created our link, but I can assure you that destroying the scale won’t destroy the link. It’ll probably lose its intensity when the scale has been destroyed, and I honestly hope it does, but there will always be a bit of your mind in mine for the rest of our lives. We can explore the repercussions of that later.”
“But it has other powers, too,” Sylvia added, desperately.
“I see your memories of it,” admitted Petra, tightening her grip on the scale.
“I know. It has the power to corrupt and destroy. No more excuses. You agreed to its destruction. I’m not letting you change your mind. I understand that this is hard for you, but it must be done.”
Petra turned back to the now-charred wall and positioned herself for the destructive blow…
Sylvia had one last protest. “If you’d just look into its depths! See it for yourself!”
Up until that moment, Petra had carefully avoided actually looking at the thing, knowing about the visions it held from Sylvia’s memories, but the suggestion broke her resolve for the slightest moment. Alas, but the slightest moment was all it took to glance into the scale’s depths and fall in.
The world swirled black, and she found herself alone and very cold. She couldn’t physically move and was only dimly aware of her own body. This wasn’t how the scale’s visions ever happened for Sylvia, but Petra’s mental powers were amplifying the scale’s.
She tried frantically to pull herself out mentally, but she couldn’t find anything to draw herself out with. Sylvia was only a throbbing mess of memories. Petra couldn’t even feel Reuben’s mind.
“So, you’re the magnificent Petra,” hissed a voice, so cold that it sent shivers down her back. Yet there was a certain beauty in it, a seductively musical quality. “You’re stronger than your sister. Much stronger. Just think of the things we could accomplish together.”
“Who are you?” Petra demanded. “Show yourself.”
The darkness swirled, and though it didn’t get any brighter, Petra realized she could make out the form of a lion.
“They call me Lorkon here, the people who think to call me by any name at all,” the voice said. The lion came closer to her, its tail lashing about – were lion’s tails supposed to lash like that? She knew domestic cats’ tails did, but lion’s tails were different, and this tail seemed to be far too flexible. It was almost as though it had a mind of its own. And were those bat wings stretching from its back? “Most of those dear, innocent Rizkans don’t bother to separate me from your sister. But I think you have a name for me in your world, don’t you?”
Lady Dragon, Tela Du Page 39