Slurr sheathed the knife and tied it around his waist. He turned to the two wizards with an expression of deep gratitude on his handsome face. “I cannot thank you enough for this great gift,” he said. “I will never let it out of my sight, and if I am called upon to do so, I will use it to defend the Chosen One.”
“I am confident that you will!” said the First-Elder. “Now that you and Beru have finished clearing space for the dragons, you may once again stay close to your wife as she continues to learn our craft, as I conduct her evening lessons. Although she will be spending a large amount of time flying with the riderless, when her feet are on the ground, you should make it your habit to keep her near you.”
“Unless she is aloft or in some place I cannot go, such as when you take her to Onesperus, I will never leave her side.”
“Excellent,” said Parnasus. “Now let’s make our way back to her. Your watch begins at once!”
Tressida lay stretched out on the ground. The cool grass felt good against her golden scales, but even better was the pressure of Cerah as she leaned against the queen’s side. “Giselle sails alone in the sky tonight,” she said aloud to the dragon. “Antera will not be visible again until the night after tomorrow.”
“You love the moons, don’t you, my darling?”
“They have kept me company on many a lonely night,” Cerah explained. “Knowing their habits comforts me.”
“Your presence comforts me!” the queen replied.
“Oh, Tress! So does yours. You have been such a faithful friend to me already. It is not pretension to say that you probably saved my life when you sought Parnasus’s help.”
“It was the only thing I could think of to do,” Tressida said.
“It was the right thing. I have come away from that experience with so many emotions. I am glad we have a clearer picture of what the beast is planning, but I regret the possibility that I may have brought menace to this place.”
“That is not your only regret,” said the dragon’s voice, softly in Cerah’s mind.
“You are right. I am very sorry that I let myself be seduced by dark magic, even though it was a brief exposure.”
“We dragons do not use magic, but I know much about it. I know that the skills your teachers have brought out in you radiate directly from the heart of Ma’uzzi. But dark magic, even a little, leaves a mark upon your spirit that is not easily washed away.”
“I feel it,” Cerah said.
“I do not imply that you are corrupted. I know your heart, and I know your spark. Both are pure! You ever seek the light, and it seeks you. But much like your scar, the wound to your spirit will most likely be with you always. It is a shame, because I would have you remain unmarred. But hear me: there is good in what has happened to you. Just as the mark on your beautiful forehead caused Kern to bring you here, the mark upon your spirit will serve you as a constant reminder. Now you know how easily the darkness can find its way into you. You will watch for it. You will reject it. One who has never known the foul, bitter taste of dark magic is far more likely to someday take a deep draught. Far better a tiny, dark mark than a blackened soul.”
Cerah sat silently for a long time, letting Tressida’s wise words flow through her like a salve. In spite of her realization that good had come from her decision to approach the Sarquahn without supervision, she had been harboring much guilt. The golden dragon’s assurance that she had in fact been inoculated by her brush with darkness went a long way to ease that self-reproach.
“What are you thinking about our work with the riderless? We begin tomorrow morning.”
“I look forward to it,” Tressida said. “These dragons are heroes, every one. They all lost their match-mates during the Stygian War and have lived over twenty decades alone. Although they all hid in their hatchling form, and many lived in the houses of kind humans, nothing can ever replace the loss of their riders. But we will now give them a new sense of purpose. Our task will not be easy, however.”
“No, I don’t expect it will, said Cerah. “They are used to following the direction of their match-mate. We must help them to act independently.”
“We have lived with wizards for a very long time,” Tressida said. “Yet there is much about us they still do not know. I would like to say that I can tell you everything there is to know about us, but though Ma’uzzi has put much understanding within my young mind, I have yet considerable learning to do myself. I can touch the mind of any dragon, but when I do I receive from them sensations and feelings. We do not communicate as do we. And I can share my thoughts with them, but, again, I cannot tell them anything. I can make them feel things, such as urgency, impending danger, and so forth. I can push their thoughts in a direction which will evoke an action. But I cannot work them as a man works a puppet.”
“I am guessing that much of our instruction will be in the form of demonstration. They will carefully watch their queen and do as she does.”
“Indeed, that will be my most important duty, at least initially. But do not underestimate your part in all of this either, my delicate blossom!” the dragon said. “As you guide me, so will I guide them. They will need to know how to coordinate their efforts, how to fly in formation, how to defend as well as attack. Though I sincerely doubt that any of them can fly as masterfully as I fly under your leadership, we will have to draw out of them talents they do not yet know they possess.”
“How long do you expect we will have to work with them?” Cerah asked.
“Dragons are vastly intelligent creatures,” Tressida began, “but even with our awe-inspiring brains, the things we will be asking the riderless to do will go against their basic nature. Our greatest delight is to be matched with a young, enthusiastic wizard, or in my case with the Chosen One of Ma’uzzi! But after that, our heart’s desire is to frolic and play. Your old friend Szalmi, bless him, is over three hundred years my senior, but I declare, he is like a baby! The way he carries on! And not just around me. When he is in close proximity to any other dragon, he begins to perform as though it was his occupation. Had he been hatched as a human he would no doubt have been an actor, or, far more likely, a clown!”
Cerah smiled at her match-mate, letting her assertion that humans were hatched go uncorrected. She realized it was more a function of her dragon-centric thought process than a faulty understanding of human reproduction. “Yes, he does love to play. But you can be mischievous as well, your majesty!” she chided.
“What is life without play?” Tressida retorted. “You and I have a bone-chilling responsibility in our future, but does it not refresh your spirit when I roll you around in the sky? Or poke your skinny ribs with my tail?” Cerah giggled as Tressida did exactly that, even as the thought entered her mind.
“I love everything about you! Your love of silliness perhaps most of all.”
Again, the two let several moments pass in quiet. They had been resting together in the soft grass of Dragon’s Walk. Some distance from them, in deference to the queen, many other of the great beasts rested as well. Most were the returned riderless, but many were matched dragons whose mates had left them to comfort the others. They lay in groups of five to seven, pressed close together, drawing both warmth and contentment from one another. They made soft, peaceful sounds.
“What do you suppose Kern and Parnasus wanted with Slurr?” Cerah asked Tressida.
“There is very little that wizards do that is not ultimately for the greater good. I’m sure that whatever their reason was for spiriting him away, it will benefit him.”
“He is such a good man, Tress.”
“I am absolutely in awe of him!” the queen said. “He works tirelessly to give these dragons a comfortable place to rest. He does whatever he’s told without hesitation. But do you know what his best characteristic is, sweetest?”
“You love how much he loves me,” Cerah said.
“Yes. That is it exactly. Because I love you so much, I am powerlessly drawn to any other who does so as well. An
d many people love you, Cerah. You should always be mindful of that. But on this vast green world, no one loves you the way that handsome boy does! Well, except maybe me!”
Cerah laughed. “I love him, too. More than I thought I was capable of doing. For the past few years I’ve been so angry, so lonely, that love rarely warmed my heart. Of course, I loved my family, but sitting on that mountain day after day, night after night, while I knew they were eating wonderful hot meals and dancing their nights away...well, my resentment was closer to the surface than was my love.
“But Slurr has reawakened my heart. He is so kind, so tender. Such a giving lover. And at the same time, he defends me like a... like a...”
“Like a dragon!” Tressida said.
“Yes!” laughed Cerah. “Exactly like a dragon.”
“Which is probably another reason why I love him so!” the queen said, laughing as well. “Also,” she added, again poking Cerah with her long tail, “he always finds just the spot on me that needs scratching.”
Cerah sighed. “Yes. He always finds just the right places on me as well.”
“Tsk!” the dragon said. “Ah, look! He is climbing the fence to join us.”
Cerah looked toward the village and indeed Slurr was approaching. Cerah, still seated, held her hand out to him as he neared. He took it and sat next to her, resting his back against Tressida. He lowered his head to kiss his wife. Even as he did, his left hand reached out and began caressing the dragon’s golden scales. “Oh! He’s doing it again, Cerah!” she giggled.
Cerah, melting under his gentle kiss, answered her. “He certainly is!”
“So, what have you two been talking about?” Slurr asked.
“Many things. The riderless dragons, dark magic, scars. Oh, and some fellow named Slurr.”
“You talk about me? What do you say? ‘He is a big lug,’ probably.”
“She already knows that you’re a lug,” said Cerah. “I don’t have to tell her that! No, I was telling her that I adore absolutely everything about you.”
“I suspect she already knows that as well. And that I cherish you in return.”
“She loves you, too, you know,” Cerah went on. “She tells me all the time.”
Slurr continued to gently touch the queen. “Please tell her for me that next to you I think she’s the grandest creature who ever lived.”
“Oh, he is a charmer’s charmer!” Tressida told Cerah, who burst out laughing.
“What? Did I say something funny?” asked Slurr.
“No, beloved. Tressida just said you were a real sweet talker, that’s all.”
Slurr laughed now as well. “Please let her know that my admiration is genuine,” he said.
“She understands you when you talk. You can tell her yourself.”
“Very well, then. Queen Tressida, I am honored to have you in my life. In all of Quadar, your love for Cerah is the only one that approaches mine. How could I do anything but esteem you?”
The dragon lifted her golden head from the ground and rubbed it against Slurr, then extended her long blue tongue and gave his face a thorough licking.
“There’s your answer,” Cerah said.
They sat together for a long time, just loving upon one another. In the wake of her recent ordeal in Onesperus, this was as magical to her as any spell she had ever cast.
Slurr, too, soaked in the richness of their shared intimacy. But as his hand brushed his waist and he felt the singing dagger that was tied to him, a shadow crossed his spirit. He did not relish the thought of hearing Kuldeen’s song. His devotion to Cerah was absolute, and nothing would ever diminish that. But the weight of the knife, though it was as light as a whisper in his hand, felt like a man-sized boulder, chained to his soul.
Since the day he and Cerah had picked themselves up off the ground on Mount Arnon after the burning wind had washed over, but not harmed them, he had looked to Cerah to lead him. True, it had been Kern who had guided them to Melsa. But it had been Cerah who had directed Slurr’s hand. To defend her he had twice taken another man’s life. He, who had never raised his hand against a human before that day in the forest. He did not regret either instance. Both had been wicked men, and both had threatened Cerah, whom no one touches!
But this was not the direction he had expected his life to take. The awakening of Cerah’s love was a treasure which he never truly dared hope for. But the circumstances under which it bloomed were dark and fraught with peril and uncertainty. Slurr refused to think bleak thoughts, usually.
However, tonight, as he sat among a field of wondrous creatures, next to a dark-haired beauty who called him her Lug, resting against the queen of all dragons and bathed by the light of empress of the night, he wondered if he would live to be the husband of the Chosen One into their old age.
Chapter 2
“Out!”
Cerah and Tressida had been flying with the riderless dragons for a full week and, while they were making some progress, she longed to see more. She was currently aloft with a group of twenty, composed of seven red, five blue, three black, and five green dragons. Cerah let out a long yawn.
“Are you tired, my love?” Tressida asked.
“There is no point in my trying to hide it from you, angel,” Cerah said. “Even if I said, ‘No, I am fine!’ you would feel the exhaustion which seems to seep as deep as my bones.”
“The long days with the riderless followed by your nights with Parnasus are taking a toll on you.”
“It is a necessary toll. Everything is accelerated now. And the things he is teaching me! Last night he taught me Opatta’s binding spell, the one which is still keeping Surok from leaving the Ice Cavern. He demonstrated it by binding an elant. When he cast it, golden bands appeared around the graceful creatures legs and it stumbled to the ground. ‘This is the best I have ever been able to do when casting Opatta’s bind,’ he told me. Then, after he had released the elant, he had me try. The animal was already bounding away when I cast the spell. I trapped it in mid-air and completely encased it in blue crystal, just as Opatta did.”
“Oh my,” exclaimed Tressida. “What did the First-Elder say to that?”
Cerah laughed. “He said, ‘You may have cast it stronger than did Opatta!’ But enough of that. We need to concentrate on the riderless.”
Much as Tressida had anticipated, they were gradually uncovering new truths about the mighty creatures. As each day went by, she noticed more and more that the different animals had different strengths and very different personality traits, and to her surprise the variations seemed to correspond to the color of their scales.
The red dragons, for example, seemed better at attack. They were by far the most aggressive. They quickly picked up the ability to dive as a group, claws extended, and attack the targets Cerah had set up on the ground. However, they showed little interest in flying reconnaissance missions. The blues seemed best at this.
The green dragons, meanwhile, excelled at defensive formations. They were no less formidable than the reds, but did not share their enthusiasm for attack. Instead, they readily moved into a circular pattern around the other dragons, not letting any of the magical drones that Cerah had conjured get anywhere near them.
The black dragons seemed to have the keenest overall intelligence, and could, with sufficient coaxing, take on any of the tasks, only with a lesser degree of skill. Often, however, Cerah noticed them urging on the others, leading the red dragons in a dive toward the targets, then peeling off at the last minute to let them destroy the straw-filled human forms. Or they would fly among the green beasts, trumpeting in warning as a drone approached, but doing little to actually stop them.
“I wish they were all equally good at each of the tasks we’ve set for them, Tress,” Cerah said as they worked again on the defensive maneuvers. While the greens took out every drone that came near them, the others repeatedly allowed them past their perimeter.
“I wonder,” the queen replied, “if we might not be going about this
in the wrong way.”
“How so?” Cerah asked, wincing as a drone struck a red dragon in its flank, causing it to yip like a house-pet whose paw had been stepped upon.
“Perhaps we should embrace their differences. So what if the greens don’t like to attack? The reds do that just fine. Why not let them focus upon the task they seem naturally predisposed to do?”
“I see what you’re saying. Instead of banging our heads against the wall trying to get them to do things that just don’t seem to be in their nature, we could focus on and strengthen the skills that come easily.”
“Exactly. We may have to tweak things a little. For example, the riderless blues seem to be very good at patrolling. Since watching for an invasion of Silestra is one of the things we hope to teach them to do, keep them in the air as much as possible. But...”
“But what, my queen?”
“I think it would be a good idea to send a red along with each patrol. It’s not their favorite activity to be sure. But if the blues spot something, those reds will be ready to take out whatever might try to get ashore.”
“Yes, they certainly do love tearing things to shreds, don’t they?” Cerah said, looking at the disassembled targets littering the ground below them. “But what about the black dragons? They don’t appear to be especially good at anything.”
“On the contrary. I’ve noticed they have a tendency to spur on the other riderless when they undertake a task. Although they don’t attack the targets, they fly alongside the reds and trumpet encouragement when they do. They fly between the greens when they are in defensive formation and keep them evenly-spaced. And even when the blue riderless are patrolling, they tend to lag behind, but they will occasionally chirp to keep them alert. In much the same way I help and direct all my kin in battle, they can serve as lieutenants. I cannot be everywhere, after all.”
Cerah marveled, not for the first time, at her match-mate’s incredible mind. “Tress you are a genius!” she shouted aloud.
Many Hidden Rooms (Cerah of Quadar Book 2) Page 2