by N. M. Howell
“There’s never an end to the evil, is there? But about your blood... even if that works, you can’t give hundreds of people your blood.”
“I don’t need to. Not per se. I’ll take a sample and amplify it by magic. Then I’ll follow the instructions in the grimoire and distribute it. At least we can save some until the cure can be found and sent for. If the outbreak started days ago, there might not be many of them left.”
“Go as swiftly as you can,” Lymir said. “Our allies deserve to know that if they risk their lives for us we’ll do the same for them.”
“Okay. Saeryn, I’m sorry to ask this,” Andie began, “but I need you to come with me. With Oren out of the city I won’t have a dragon to ride. You up for an adventure?”
“Certainly.”
Saeryn and Lymir left the apartment and Andie and Raesh were alone. Raesh stood and walked a bit, while Andie waited for him to say what she knew was on his mind.
“Okay, I’m not going to be that guy,” he said. “The guy who said you can’t go or starts worrying for your safety just because you want to go on a mission, no matter how insane. I won’t doubt you or belittle you like that. You’re the bravest, most powerful, most intelligent person I know. You’re more capable than any of us. I’ll just say be careful and that I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”
She stood and went with him. She kissed him in a way she hoped thanked him for always doing the right thing, for always saying what needed to be said. He held her.
“I want you to do something for me,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“I want you to open something.”
She turned and walked to the spare bedroom. She returned with a briefcase, but not just any briefcase: it was Marvo’s. It was the briefcase Marvo kept his recipes in. Raesh’s eyes widen when he saw it. Andie saw him struggling inside.
“Where did you find that?” Raesh asked. “I’ve been looking for it for months.”
“I’ve been looking, too. Your father really hid this thing. I finally found it behind two secret compartments and a pretty tough safe. I wanted you to have it. And I want you to open it. Not for me, but because it’s yours now and you should embrace it. Your father would have wanted you to have it. Marvo always bragged about how it would be yours someday. You don’t have to cook anything or run the restaurant, but all of it is yours.”
“It seems like someone else’s life,” he said, gently taking the case from her. “I’ve only been back to the restaurant a handful of times. It seems so small now, so old. There was a time when I looked forward to owning it. I had so many plans and ideas for how I was going to make it better and make it one of the greatest places in Arvall. And now I can’t even...”
“You’ll figure it out in your own time. There’s no law that said you can’t walk away from the restaurant if you want to. All of this is up to you and no one’s going to judge you either way, as long as you face this. And the truth is... it was someone else’s life.”
Raesh stood there looking at the case for a few moments before he lowered his hands. He and Andie walked down the hall to the bedroom and he placed the briefcase in the closet. They lay down in the bed, in each other’s arms, without saying a word, spending a few moments together before Andie began to start preparing.
A couple hours later, Andie was stroking the head of Saeryn’s dragon. It wasn’t as big or as strong as her previous one, but Andie could tell this new dragon adored her just as much. He had claimed Saeryn as his own the moment his own rider had died. No matter how long Andie was around them or how many times she had ridden them, she’s was always astounded. The creature responded to her touch, curling toward her and giving that deep rumbling purr that only dragons can make. Soon Saeryn exited the University and the two mounted up. They had four other riders alongside them. Andie double checked she had the right grimoire and the ingredients they would need for the spell—it was very old and very precise spellwork.
They flew in perfect chevron formation, high above the city and the people they’ve sworn to protect. With the dragon’s great speed, it wasn’t long before they were over the Spider Sea and it was a sight Andie would cherish for the rest of her life. She had never flown over the sea before and had no idea it could be even more beautiful than it already was. The soft light of the moon fell over the modest, coursing waves and created a new kind of perfect light. The silvery trench spiders were already near the surface, with their feather-shaped legs and dandelion bodies. It was devastatingly beautiful.
But even that incredible sight could only distract Andie for so long. She thought of the suffering Thabians in the True Isles. They had been a neutral party since the beginning of time. No one can remember when the Thabians fought a war or did anything other than help those in need. They were skilled fighters and excellent blacksmiths, but their supplying weapons to Arvall was only one of three recorded instances of them ever choosing sides in a conflict. While it made perfect sence to cut off the weapon supply, Andie couldn’t believe anyone could be so evil as to infect the entire isles with that terrible disease—a disease that is extremely painful and fatal if not treated quickly. If they had known the Thabians would be attacked so heinously, they never would have set up the arrangement.
She was confident her blood and the blood of the other dragonborn would suffice as a cure; she’d checked and doublechecked and triplechecked the grimoire. She worried that they were too late. Maeludrax disease is a horrible sickness: it begins benign enough, as most illnesses do, with a fever. But overnight the body becomes covered in black rashes so painful that even the blowing wind causes severe pain. Next the senses go: sight, sound, taste, touch, smell. By the second night the body’s immune system is almost destroyed and only luck can save a person from dying from some common illness that normally wouldn’t be an issue. By the third day the bleeding begins and the lungs begin to shut down. Some people, especially those with magic in their blood, can survive past that point if they’re strong enough and are closely monitored. But most people didn’t live longer than four days and no one lived past a week. Andie could hardly imagine it: an entire civilization dying.
The dragons flew all night since there was nowhere to stop and rest. They reached The True Isles when the morning was still black. All the isles were surrounded by the cerulean water that never darkens, not even when the sun goes down. It was an old and powerful magic that allowed the waters of the isles to touch the other seawater without mixing. They flew straight for Thabes, a beautiful city lit by the evanescent glow of its wildlife; every animal and insect in the True Isles glowed. It was never truly dark. The inhabitants had sworn off modern technology and instead lived off the land and in huts made from sand and clay. Andie had been overwhelmed with beautiful sights in her life and this was yet another one.
They landed on the beach and hurried toward the only place in the city where the torches were still burning. Even before the dragons touched down on the beach, Andie could smell it: the scent of countless rotting corpses. They arrived at a large clearing and were halted by the shock. As far as the eye could see in front of them were bodies. Men, women, children, the elderly, even some of the larger animals that were mammals lay dead or dying. There were a few of the city’s healers still moving around, helping where they could, but not nearly enough. Andie couldn’t begin to count the people. As they moved forward again, Andie stepped in something and then pulled her foot back with a jerk. The sand was soaked in blood.
One of the healers saw them and came racing over. When he reached them, he began to speak faster than Andie could keep up with She realized he was speaking another language entirely. She tried to signal to him that she couldn’t understand, but Saeryn grabbed the man and turned him toward her. She seemed to listen to him intently and then she turned to Andie.
“He said he welcomes us in the name of Alqwedelades, the god of him and his people. His begs for our help if we can offer any. He said all of the people who speak our tongue
are dead or dying.”
“How can you understand him?” Andie asked.
“He speaks High Thabian, a language older than our people. It was once well-known across western and central Noelle and I learned it as a child.”
The man began to talk again, his arms and hands were waving wildly in his begging gestures. Saeryn asked him something in his language and he responded.
“He said the sickness has been on them for nearly six days. Over half of the population is gone. I’ve asked him if there is any healer left who has magic and he said there is one woman beyond the trees, but she has come down with the illness just hours ago. She may still be strong enough. We must hurry.”
Saeryn turned and said something else to the man. He motioned to her face and to Andie’s and then said something back. Saeryn responded and the man dropped to his knees and began bowing over and over.
“What happened?” Andie asked. “What’s he doing?”
“I think he’s... worshipping us. I asked him to take us to the healer so that we could help them, but he said we needed masked. I told him we are dragonborn and don’t get sick, and then he began to bow.”
Saeryn leaned over and raised the man up. She spoke to him so soothingly that Andie was almost calmed herself. The man made a final half bow then began hurrying toward the trees, with the dragonborn following. When they reached the woman, they could see that she had the fever and a few small rashes, but was still able to walk and lend assistance. Saeryn spoke with her and the woman exhaled a sigh of relief.
“Okay, princess,” Saeryn said. “Let us begin.”
Andie got the grimoire and began following the instructions for the spell. She cut her hand and caught the blood in a bowl. She finished the preparation and then said the incantation. She drew the blood into a syringe and gave the woman a dose. They waited. It didn’t take long before the woman’s complexion improved and the rashes began to slowly recede.
“That’s amazing,” Andie said. “I read the grimoire, but I don’t think I actually believed it would work until just this moment.”
“There have always been tales about the blood of our people,” Saeryn said. “It’s nice to know that some of the good ones are true. I wonder that no one has exploited these properties before.”
“According to the pages, our blood can cure most known diseases, under most circumstances, but it can’t cure wounds. It can’t cure serious medical conditions, so nothing neural, spinal, circulatory, or anything like that. It’s powerful, but not all-powerful. Still pretty amazing.”
Andie filled another syringe and gave the man a shot as well, to protect him.
“Do you think you can do the spell?” she asked Saeryn.
“Yes, it seems simple enough.”
“Good. I have another mission I need to attend to. You and the other dragonborn will have to take care of these people. Teach her the spell.”
“But where are you going?”
“To take back our destiny.”
Chapter Ten
Andie left the group and took off through the woods. When she was far enough away that was sure no one could see her, she took out the journals. She had gotten them from Marcus before they left the University. She flipped to the page she was looking for and it didn’t take long to find: the location of House Terpsichore’s secret portal. She would’ve told Saeryn what she wanted, but she didn’t trust that Saeryn would understand. It was simpler that way. The Thabians needed the blood of her people, but her people needed the portal. Andie closed the journal and began her trek through the forest.
Everything about the True Isles was unique and contained, including its climate. No matter what the weather on the ocean was like, the skies were always warm and clear over the isles. The climate was perfect along the beaches and huts, but deeper inland it was that of a jungle. Hot, humid, heavy. The wildlife was unique and exotic, and Andie couldn’t finish being surprised by one creature before she came across the next. It was not difficult to make her way because the foliage there was gently controlled by the Thabians to be a perfect balance that provided shelter for the animals, but also made hunting easier. The glowing creatures lent plenty of light, almost too much, and while Andie made her way with ease she also worried about being seen. But worry was pointless. Most of the inhabitants were dead.
She walked for some time, her hand was level with her face and ready to cast at a moment’s notice. She was not convinced some of the army didn’t stay behind to make sure everyone died. But she saw no one. In fact, the closest she had come to other people was passing three mass burial sites where she couldn’t even begin to count the dead. She’d cast a spell over her nose and mouth so that the stench of the dead didn’t make her sick. Yet there was no spell for the sadness. There was nothing she could do to stop her tears when she saw the sight of all those bodies that would never live or love again. They were just more reasons that fueled her anger and determination.
The journal said the portal was hidden beneath a Wellensbard, a trap from the old days. Wellensbards were objects that created optical illusions that only dissolve once the riddle they represented had been solved. The journal gave the general location of the Wellensbard, but because the author feared other families finding the portal, there were no specific instructions. The journal didn’t even give a hint. Andie arrived in the area and had no idea where to start.
“Great. Tease me with the location of an ancient portal that can be used to get rid of my entire race and then leave me hanging.”
She walked back and forth over the area, which must have been fifty square meters. She checked tree trunks, both sides of the small creek that splits the area, and anything that looked like it could have been in the wrong place. But all she saw was trees, plants, and a perfect night sky. Nearly two hours passed as she wracked her brain and poured backwards and forwards through the passage in the journal. She hadn’t missed anything in the pages. She decided to try something. She raised her hands over the ground and prepared.
“Solas revelati—”
She had only just begun the revealing spell when the entire fifty square meter area exploded in a cloud of dirt, rocks, and tree roots. Andie was blasted off her feet and into a tree trunk. Hard. The dragon blood healing began immediately, but she had broken some ribs and she could feel the blood trickling down the back of her neck from a cut on her scalp. She had to lay there for a moment to catch her breath and heal. She knew she should’ve been smarter; Wellensbards were notorious for being spell-proof and extremely dangerous if messed with. If Andie wasn’t dragonborn, she would’ve been in serious trouble.
“Well, at least I know I’m in the right place,” she said, sitting herself up against the base of a tree. “That hurt. That really hurt. But I’ve got to find this thing. There’s no way we can find them all before that army gets here, but I can get this one. I just have to think. Come on, Andie. The journal doesn’t give anything specific, but there must be some clue. House Terpsichore would never run the risk of its descendants not finding the portal. They thought they were the only family who had one. Think. What do you know about them...”
House Terpsichore had been the most jovial of the seven families. They were the most ambitious and energetic at the parties and loved to hold competitions and pageants. They were no richer or poorer than the other families, though they had as many secrets. The seal of their house had been two lovers in dance, wreathed in some other smaller details that Andie couldn’t remember. Over the last thousand years, the family didn’t seem to have changed at all. She still heard stories about the extravagant parties they threw in east central Noelle. But that was as much as Andie could remember, and though she’d read the entire journal front to back there was nothing in it that could help her. All she saw was their pageants and their seal.
“Wait,” she said. “That’s it.”
Before she’d even completely healed she hurried to her feet and began to dance. She was not quite sure of where the precise spot was so she mo
ved all around the area, dancing as best and as truly as she could to a beat she didn’t hear. If anyone had walked up they might have thought she was losing her mind. She danced across the jungle floor. Finally, she saw the land around her begin to disintegrate. When the illusion was finally revealed, she had to move quickly to avoid falling in.
“Well, would you look at that...”
The portal looked exactly like the one in the University, except this one was half buried and turned itself off. The automatic activation must have been a final security measure for anyone who found it that shouldn’t have. Andie ran her hand over the smooth surface. She’d never seen one inactive before. The face of the portal was smooth, almost too smooth. A hard surface with absolutely no friction. Andie couldn’t even begin to fathom the magic that went in to creating it.
“One down. Six to go.”
By the time Andie made it back to the dragonborn, they’d already made considerable headway in healing the Thabians. Many of the bodies that were once lying prostrate were now sitting up. None were walking yet, but Andie figured the longer they were sick, the longer it would take them to heal. She was just glad it was working at all.
“Andie, where have you been?” Saeryn asked, looking half panicked. “You’ve been gone for hours. I almost sent people to look for you.”
“I was sure you would after the explosion,” Andie said sheepishly.
“I trust you’re referring to the explosion that frightened us all to death. I almost went myself, but these poor people needed help. I trusted you to survive whatever it was and come back with a spectacular reason for your abandoning the mission, which, I feel it not inappropriate to add, was your idea. People are dying by the hundreds here and you’re off exploring in the jungle. Disappearing, explosions, cryptic excuses. I expect more from the princess of our people. I have never been so disappointed with you.”