“He will no longer let you in, and you cannot hope to find the door. That is a pity,” spoke Xith coldly.
“I no longer require permission to enter. I come and go as I please.”
“Then why do you walk these halls without purpose?”
“I was waiting for you, dear friend, and now I shall have everything I ever wanted.”
“You are keeping the secret from even him, aren’t you? That is heroic, but you are still a subversive fool. He will find a way into your mind. You cannot hope to trick him.”
“It is not heroism, I assure you. It is the one thing he wants, even more than your knowledge of the arcane arts. And do you know what is so exquisitely simple about all this? He doesn’t even know that I could give him the key if he would only ask.”
“And just what do you seek in return? Will you stand at his side and act as his right hand?”
“I want nothing so basic. I want to be both his hands.”
“You, Talem, are the naive one. He will use you until you are spent and then he will cast you away. You are nothing—do not forget that.”
“No, I will give him the two things he wants most, and I will give him you also.”
Xith stepped away angrily, casting aside the bag he carried. A quick glance to the rear showed him that the others still walked the path without end. He wondered how far they would go before they realized the truth of the illusion. Surely, he thought, Noman would guess it.
“We shall end this here and now—you and me. I shall let you corrupt all that you touch no more.”
“They will not allow it,” said Talem, indicating the robed figures around him.
“You were once the most promising. I should have known the truth of your ways, but I would not believe them. They told me the same about him, but I still have hope.”
Talem roared with laughter, “You are spent. Give up now, and I promise that when the time comes, your pain will be swift.”
Xith raised a warning hand, “Do not make promises you cannot keep.” Xith spun his hand before his face, preparing to release the energies he had been drawing within him over the past few minutes.
“Don’t!”
“Don’t what? This?” replied Xith spinning a ball of fire from his hands, “I know you, Talem; your magic is not real. Mine, on the other hand, is. We will end this now! You shall not leave this sanctuary with life yet coursing through your veins. I promise you.”
Talem cringed as flames sparked around his shield wall. The heat of the fire brought tiny bursts of perspiration to his brow. Talem’s followers rebuked with fires of their own, bombarding Xith time after time. Even under the strain, Xith didn’t wipe the smile from his lips. He wore it broadly, proving his strength.
“I have been savoring this spell for some time. I think you will like it,” Xith said menacingly. He crossed his hand before him in a line and then formed a fist. Talem mocked him as nothing happened; the magic just seemed to fade away. Xith returned his scorn with equal generosity.
The stones beneath Talem’s feet began to bow and warp. A din filled the air, a rasping, popping, cracking sound. A crack appeared, minute at first, and then the floor rent and broke. Talem fell clawing and grasping at the wall behind him, clutching to the edge just before he was swallowed by the hole. His eyes went wide as he watched his staff drop into the abyss.
Xith didn’t have time for a second attack; he had to make an immediate counter. He gulped air as he restored the shield wall around him, wincing from the slight searing he had received. He looked away from Talem as he was scrambling to return to his feet, toward the source of his lament. He stared at each, trying to delve beyond their eyes and into their thoughts.
He knew Talem well enough to know his magicians were all frauds, having acquired their skills just as their master did. Which has the shield, he thought to himself, and would it be a ring, book, staff or maybe even a medallion? He knew the magicks of old better than most. He dreaded the thought of times he had assisted in their delivery to this place.
Seven, he considered to himself. Talem always had been superstitious. Xith eyed the second figure on the right evilly, glaring as he released a surge of energy. A blue-white ball streaked across the hall from his fingertip, enshrouding the other. He heard a barely audible whimper as the other was incinerated.
His assumption had been right. The barrier shield fell, and he began to take the others out one by one. They began running wildly about, trying to escape. Two fell into the hole that was still spreading about their feet, and the remainder Xith delivered quickly. Without a defense, they were felled easily. At the last, he felt compassion for them.
Xith’s eyes crossed, and he groped for his back. A sharp pain had suddenly overcome him. He whirled around to see Talem standing behind him with a bloody dagger in his hand. Everything began spinning; and as he looked up, the ceiling was circling about him.
“The edge was poisoned—so sad, I had really wanted to have you as a prize. But before you go, I shall have your secrets. Tell me the place, Xith, and maybe I can save you. You can live. Isn’t that what you want? Where is it?”
Xith bade Talem to draw closer as he began to whisper shallowly. Fixated on Xith and the desire for knowledge, Talem came closer and closer. “I will tell you,” whispered Xith. “Come here.” Xith edged backwards as he bade Talem to move forward, and as Talem hunched down to listen, Xith grabbed him about the collar and the throat, jerking him forward as hard as he could. Xith sidestepped and as Talem flailed at the air, trying to grab onto him, he kicked him in the face, and then both men fell. Talem’s eyes were wild and staring. Xith saw huge balls of white with black pupils disappear into the emptiness below him. Talem’s screams were also wild and horrible. He could not believe that he was about to die.
Xith, on the other hand, accepted it. He did not turn about or flail but instead counted the last moments of his life, knowing how precious each and every last breath was. He knew how important every last conscious thought was, and he was glad. He knew Adrina would be safe.
He waited, but he suddenly realized that he had not died. He was not even moving. He turned to look about, and his body was sprawled out on the floor at the very edge of the culvert. He began to wonder what the poison was doing to him. He was numb, but he did not appear to be dying, and he wondered if it were some trick of Talem’s, perhaps his last. Xith closed his eyes momentarily, clasping his hands together, and then, although he couldn’t seem to bring his hands or feet to movement, he could still turn his head, and he did, turning his eyes outward, into the courtyard where he saw Adrina entering the path without end.
“Say nothing. Let them go,” the voice told her. “They will not miss you, I am sure.”
Adrina watched lips move, but she was drawn to the eyes, and the beckoning hand that told her to follow was just an image tucked far into the most obscure corner of her vision. She did so only because a hand returned to her own and coerced her decision.
“Do not fight it, let me in. I will do you no harm. I see he is in your dreams now. Do you have the strength to cast him away or will he sweep you away as he did the other? I wonder—would you allow me to follow?”
“Will he win?” asked Adrina.
“Only if you let him.”
Adrina screwed her face up tight, as if she were just suddenly realizing a thing she had been trying hard to remember. “Where have they all gone?”
“Do not worry about them. They are gone so that you may be safe. You will rest here now till it is time. You are safe, my fair princess. Leave the world of cares behind and stay here as long as you like. You have made a wise and good choice.”
As the other recommended, Adrina twirled around; and as the fading images of the outside world slowed, everything turned bright and luxurious. She shivered as a light spray of water touched her face. The fountain enclosure was in full bloom, as was the garden around her. A soft rapping noise filtered into her ears, coming from the four corners of the walls behind her, c
ircling from west to east.
Adrina grew sad and listless. Her chin drooped again and emotions swelled up in her eyes. A gripping emptiness gnawed at her heart. She felt suddenly alone as if she had lost all that she cared for. Her lower lip began to tremble and she bit at it to get it to stop, but it wouldn’t. At first only a solitary tear found its way down her cheek, rolling across her chin to her neck, but soon the anguish flourished. She wrapped her arms around herself to quell it, but that only caused the trembling to spread. She kneeled to the ground, lowering her head in heavy, almost mournful sobs.
“You have taken the first step and won; there is nothing to be sad about.”
“But,” began Adrina, “I think I will miss them.” Her face was flushed deep red and her eyes were swollen and misty. She sniffled and pulled at her lip.
“Remember, I am here with you; I will not go, so you are not alone. We will walk together for a time, you and me. The next step will not be so easy, and progressively so, but we have time now, so rest, rest well.”
Adrina’s tears subsided, and although she still sat idle, she no longer felt alone. “Here, I think this is for you,” she said, handing the other a small round object. Her thoughts began to wander back to happier, distant times and her mood lightened. After coming to her feet, she cupped her hands together and partook of the cool waters of the fountain. The water was sweet and satisfying as it passed her lips.
Overhead the sun was shifting from its apex, meandering west, and in time it came to touch the horizon, bringing with it an end to the day. Adrina watched it from time to time, sifting back and forth through her thoughts. Many faces crossed before the windows of her mind, some weathered and faded, some new and fresh. As the first shades of night arrived, Adrina found her happiness and a sense of peace. The future was no longer dark and uncertain. She was safe in this place. Wasn’t she?
Chapter Thirteen
With the help of the Ayrian’s keen sense of direction, Captain Brodst, Calyin, and the others made their way out of the detention area. Ayrian and Captain Brodst quickly dispatched the few guards they encountered along the way. Soon they were all in the wide open chamber with the falls and warm pool where Captain Brodst had spent many long days and nights. They paused to plan their next steps and to examine the gear collected from the guards. Captain Brodst distributed helmets and armor. Geoffrey made sure each had a blade.
Keeper Martin took inventory of another type. He studied their wounds and maladies. Edwar Serant and Calyin Alder were recovering from the drink they’d been given but were still groggy. Ayrian had deep gouges on his wrists and ankles where he had been shackled. He maintained a length of the shackle chains even now. Martin had seen its deadly effectiveness against the guards so he did not question the need for it; however, he did question the way Ayrian clung to it. He knew you chained a man to break his spirit and his will, but Ayrian did not seem broken, only angry.
Captain Brodst had scarcely taken his eyes off Midori since entering the pool room. For her part, she fussed over the wounds he had taken and the condition he was in. “What is it?” she whispered to him as he watched her work.
“Thinking of another life, another time,” he replied. “If only—”
“If only what? I know what you are thinking. You had better think of the here and the now and not the could-have-beens.”
Captain Brodst got a far-off look in his eyes. “I am a great fool,” he whispered as he pulled away from her. He walked to where Geoffrey and Martin stood. Martin tended to Ayrian. Across the chamber, Calyin and Edwar Serant were enjoying a private moment. As he watched Calyin tend to her lord husband, he envied them.
It was a short while later as the group gathered at the basin of the pool that the one who had been in Geoffrey’s cell approached them from out of the shadows. “Do you want to know the truth of your capture?” the other asked as he approached.
Recognizing the voice, Geoffrey stayed the captain’s sword arm. “It is you,” he said, “I had all but forgotten.”
The other proffered the blade the guard had given the two so they could kill each other. Geoffrey did not take it.
“I do not hold you as an enemy,” Geoffrey said.
“You should,” the other said, “I am Ærühn, Dragon Man of the Stone Shields.”
Geoffrey took in the full sight of Ærühn for the first time. Long black hair hung from the Dragon Man’s head in dozens of thin braids. His forehead sloped back at a sharp angle and his flat nose made his thin-set eyes seem enormous round globes. The way the eyes bulged from their sockets reminded Geoffrey of the dragon lizards of the north whose eyes could follow you wherever you went without requiring the lizard to turn its head. “Ærühn, if you are the enemy of my enemy, can we not be friends?”
“It is no time to speak of such before you know the truth of where you are and why you are here.”
Ayrian cocked his head a full half circle as only a bird or bird man could do. He probed the distance with his eyes, looking to the rope ladders that reached up to the sky from either side of the falls. He tightened his grip on the chain in his hands. “Find cover; they come. The door will open soon,” he whispered, his beak clicking as he spoke.
“How many?” asked Brodst.
“Three, I hear three. There is another, but he does not come with the others.”
“It’s not the changing of the guards,” Brodst said, “They send a full compliment of twelve at the change.”
Lord Serant’s eyes went to the rope ladders on either side of the falls. “Surely, there is another way out of this hole. I don’t remember climbing when I was taken to the audience with the High Lord.”
“Belajl Entreatte spoke to you?” Ærühn asked, looking as if he suddenly had a different opinion of Edwar Serant.
“Quickly, quickly,” Ayrian said, interrupting.
Without a further word passing between them, Captain Brodst, Lord Serant and Geoffrey took up positions beside the ladders. Martin, Midori, and Calyin slipped away into a dark corner of the room. Ayrian took flight, delight reflected in his eyes as he stretched his wings and felt freedom for the first time in what seemed ages. He flew to a small recess in the wall beside a small door of stone, crawling into the hole and disappearing from sight. Using his bare hands and feet, Ærühn climbed the wall.
The way he moved reminded Captain Brodst of the way spiders crawled along a wall. His eyes fell upon the doors on high. He watched as both swung open, gesturing to Geoffrey and Lord Serant as he looked on. Be ready, he indicated wordlessly.
Two guards, one on each rope ladder, worked their way down to the pool room. As the guards reached the bottom of the rope, Captain Brodst, Lord Serant and Geoffrey set upon them. High above, Ayrian made his way through one of the open doors and Ærühn made his way through the other.
The melee was over quickly. Captain Brodst and Lord Serant gave no mercy. Above it was much the same: Ayrian and Ærühn found only fury in their hearts. Soon they were all up the rope ladders and running down the long hall to what they hoped was freedom. Freedom that seemed an eternity in the coming.
Safe. Was she safe? The words echoed in her ears. As she questioned the world around her, the path split and reality sped inward.
As the images of the fountain enclosure and the garden faded, the voice called out to her. “You should have waited, Adrina Alder. We could have walked together until it was time.”
“Time for what?”
No answer came as Adrina faced stark reality. She could see someone or something lying on the ground across the open courtyard. As she got closer, she saw it was Xith. He was on his back, his eyes open wide, staring up at the heavens. She shook him until he roused to conscious thought.
“Talem,” Xith said, “The dark priest. Is he?”
“There is no one else,” Adrina said.
Xith sat up. “Adrina? We must hurry; we must find the others.”
Adrina helped the shaman to his feet. “This plac
e—what is it?” she asked.
“It is the path without end.” Xith turned his eyes away from her, surveying the courtyard. “A magical enchantment to protect the way. It keeps out intruders, trapping them in a world between reality and dream. Only the chosen or the knowing can get past the path. Talem and his followers never got past the path though they learned to escape its grip and to navigate the between.”
“Talem?”
Xith turned back to her. “What did you find in the path, Adrina?”
“The blue eyes, the voice. He told me I could walk with him. That I was safe. Would I have been safe?”
Xith gripped her forearms and looked directly at her. “No, Adrina. You were not safe in that place. Come, quickly now,” he said leading her across the open courtyard into the tower of dark stone.
Complete In the Service of Dragons Page 67