Shadows of the Realm (The Circle of Talia)

by Lister, Dionne

  Bronwyn called out for her companion. Drakon’s panther did not reply, but a young man did. He stepped out from behind an ancient trunk. Bronwyn held her breath as a tingling warmth spread through her body as she looked into his blue-green eyes. She had never seen a man so beautiful, with smooth, pale skin, straight nose, and black hair. He was dressed in earthy tones and had a bow slung over his shoulder. The arrow he held was red at the tip, indicating he had recently shot some poor animal. Even with that knowledge, she found she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  His intense stare made her feel as if she were still naked. He spoke in a soft, deep voice, which held an air of quiet confidence. “How do you come to be here, Princess?”

  Bronwyn had to clear her throat before she could speak.

  “I jumped into the lake, and here I am.”

  “Well then, if you prefer not to tell me, that’s okay.” Maybe he didn’t realise the true nature of the mass of water he lived next to.

  Bronwyn knew she had to bond with Sinjenasta and wondered if maybe he had noticed a big black panther anywhere.

  “Why do you seek such a dangerous creature?”

  “He’s my friend, and I need his help.” The handsome young man hesitated an instant, guilt altering his features.

  “I’m afraid I’ve done something you will not like.” Bronwyn again noticed the red tip of the arrow.

  “Where is he? What have you done?” The young man turned and walked back behind the tree. Bronwyn followed, heart sinking with each step.

  Her worst fears were given life when she saw the carcass of her companion hanging upside down from a low branch, Sinjenasta’s nose almost touching the ground. She ran to the body and felt his soft coat. She couldn’t believe he could be killed so easily; Drakon himself had sent him to her. This couldn’t be happening. Bronwyn looked into his lifeless eyes. Stunned, she stepped back and fell on her bottom. Her triumph of earth magic a moment ago had turned into tragedy. Her failure to bond with the giant cat was sure to affect what she had to do. Were they all now condemned to failure?

  The young man sat on the ground opposite the young realmist. “I truly am sorry. If I had known he was yours I wouldn’t have killed him.”

  Bronwyn looked up to yell at the man who had stolen away the future of Talia; her future. Her words stayed in her throat when she saw his tears. He was truly sorry. She could almost believe he felt her pain.

  Bronwyn knew she had not known the panther very long, however he was her only link to where she had come from. The knowledge that they were to have bonded gave him a special place in her heart. It was all over now. Would The Circle be able to start again? Bronwyn called out to Drakon. “Where are you? I need you to bring Sinje back.” She stood and repeated her words, screaming this time. “Damn you Drakon, you call yourself a god. Some pathetic god: you couldn’t even keep one of your own alive.”

  There was no answer and the young man looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

  Bronwyn turned away from the dead panther and stared into the distance. She thought aloud. “What do I do now?”

  She honestly had no idea where she should go. If she went back to Vellonia, if she could get back, would she then be able to find her way to the surface.

  “Stay here with me. Let me make it up to you Princess.” The young man stood in front of her and stared into her eyes once again.

  They stood so close she could practically feel the warmth emanating from his body. His proximity muddled her thoughts. She put in an extra effort to make sense. “Why do you keep calling me Princess?”

  “I thought I recognised you. Are you not a princess of Veresia?” She felt relief at those words. Veresia did exist here. It seemed she had just been transported to another place within Talia.

  “I’m not a princess—far from it, in fact. Can you tell me where we are?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Well, I just asked didn’t I? Which part of Talia are we in?”

  “Talia?”

  “Yes, Talia. The Realm in which Veresia exists.” His lack of comprehension alarmed Bronwyn. Had she travelled to a realm no one knew about?

  “We are in the Sacred Realm. The Realm from which all others were modelled.”

  His handsome face was not enough to sooth her anymore. She shouldn’t be here and Sinjenasta shouldn’t be dead. What had they done wrong? Maybe they should have waited longer to bond. Bronwyn decided what she had to do. Even if it meant her death as well, she had to try to get back home. She couldn’t save Talia whilst she existed in this other realm.

  “Could you please help me take the panther to the lake?” He could not understand why, but agreed nonetheless. Bronwyn was sickened by the rustling of the grass as they dragged the panther’s corpse through it. The sound on its own was not the problem, just the knowledge of what was making it.

  They were both puffing by the time they reached the lake—Sinjenasta was heavy. Bronwyn proceeded to disrobe. She felt she should do everything she had done previously or she may not reach Talia. The young man did not turn away to save her modesty. He stood transfixed, drinking in her beauty.

  Bronwyn dove into the ripple-less mirror. It broke her heart in a way she didn’t understand, to know she was leaving this man, a man whom she had only just met. The whole situation was surreal. Bronwyn swam to the edge of the lake and grabbed Sinjenasta’s tail. She dragged the panther in with her and kept hold of his tail, as he had told her to do earlier that day. “Goodbye.” She didn’t know what else to say.

  “Good bye, Princess.”

  Bronwyn relived the pain of converting her lungs to gills. She dragged the panther behind her, the resistance slowing her progress. How long should she swim down before swimming up again? Hoping she would not just return to the newly discovered realm, the realmist swam until, unexpectedly, she touched bottom. There was nowhere to go now but up. She prayed she would return to the underground cave. During the journey to the surface Sinjenasta’s tail seemed to disintegrate until Bronwyn stopped to check what was happening. The panther was no longer there. Left with a few strands of fur between her fingers, Bronwyn looked around but couldn’t see him anywhere. She had lost him again.

  She felt like a failure, salty tears mixing with the warm, fresh water of the lake for the remainder of her ascension. This time she commenced her transformation before she reached the surface. When she broke through, her lungs gulped musty cave air. She had done something right. When she looked up, the coloured lasers of light shooting around the grotto dazzled her eyes.

  Welcome back. Glad you could join me. Sinjenasta casually licked a gigantic paw.

  “But, but…. You were dead. Is it really you, Sinje?”

  As you can see, I’m not dead. I don’t know what reality you were in, but you spoke to me where I went. I was certainly not dead.

  “Is it possible we could have gone to two different places?”

  Anything’s possible. In any case, we’re bonded. Can you feel it?

  Bronwyn climbed out of the water. She stood and contemplated. She shut her eyes and spun around. Without opening her eyes she stopped, turned to her right, and pointed directly at the large panther. “I can feel where you are. I can feel that you’re alive.” She opened her eyes and smiled at her newly bonded companion. “I’m so glad you’re alive. I thought we’d failed.”

  You thought you had failed?

  “Yes. But it seems I didn’t.” Bronwyn approached Sinjenasta and embraced him in a large hug. “You’re so soft.”

  Stop using me to dry yourself and put some clothes on. We’d better get moving. There’s still something we have to do for Drakon.

  Bronwyn held onto his tail to go back through the dark tunnels. This time she was in much better spirits. Her head was filled with an image of the handsome stranger in the other realm. Why did the man of her dreams have to exist somewhere else? She couldn’t wait to tell her aunt about her discovery of a new realm—if indeed, that’s what it was. It may have ju
st been a trick of the lake. If everything she saw was truth, Sinjenasta would be dead. Maybe the stranger was also a figment of the lake’s imagination. That would be a shame.

  Bronwyn had the sudden urge to sneeze. It took all of her will to keep quiet. A second sneeze attempted to burst forth. After a while, the urge abated. Bronwyn spoke to her creatura mind to mind. What is it we have to do for Drakon?

  I would rather not say.

  Do you think I would refuse the task if I knew what it was?

  You don’t actually have to do anything if you don’t want to. The situation will unfold as the Realms intend. Sensing she would get no more out of him, she amused herself with daydreams of the stranger whose name she had never asked.

  Through the mind link she had with the panther, she was aware they were approaching the place where they had initially dragged themselves from the freezing waters. Bronwyn was slowly grasping the reality of being bonded. She could smell traces of what Sinjenasta could smell. Through his understanding, she knew what it was they smelled. “So that’s what I smell like to an animal.” There was another stronger smell which raised the hackles on the back of the panther’s neck.

  “What’s that?”

  Our prey.

  “I didn’t know we were hunting anything.”

  We are. He stopped. The thing we are hunting must be killed. You will probably have a million questions when you see whom I am trying to kill, but keep silent. Either help me, or stay out of it. Drakon has ordered this creature to death, however my attempt may not succeed. If I die, you will feel it in your bones. You will feel pain for weeks, maybe months. Your whole body will ache and your mind will grieve.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that before we bonded?”

  That was your teacher’s job. I would have thought Avruellen was a better teacher than that.

  “Well, she probably mentioned something, but it didn’t sound that bad.”

  Another thing. If we get caught, which is likely, don’t say who sent us, or why. Secrecy is our biggest weapon at this point.

  A shuffling noise echoed in the distance. The panther led them toward it. They walked past their arrival point and further, to where the boat would have taken them, had they followed the path of the humans before them. There was a little more light in the direction they travelled, outlines emerging around them, as they had before entering the grotto.

  Sinjenasta halted behind a large rock. Bronwyn heard his voice in her mind. You can let go of my tail. Stay here and watch. Don’t make a sound.

  She obeyed. When he padded out from behind the relative safety of the rock, Bronwyn’s heart skipped nervously. She dared to peek after him. He was sneaking toward the biggest creature she had ever seen. Instinctively Bronwyn knew it was a dragon. He, or she, appeared to be examining a boat. It may have been the one that had brought them here.

  Was that the creature Drakon wanted dead? Bronwyn puzzled as to why he would want one of his own slaughtered. Better still, why didn’t he just smite him down? He was a god, after all. The closer Sinjenasta was to the dragon, the more apparent it became that the dragon had a huge size advantage. Bronwyn thought of the panther as being a large, strong creature, but compared to the dragon he looked like a kitten. She was seized with fear for her creatura—he could not possibly defeat that monster; Bronwyn gripped the edge of the rock so hard her fingers hurt. Was it too late to make him come back? This could only end in disaster.

  Sinjenasta crouched low as he skulked into the more illuminated region in which the dragon was standing, bronze lamp at his feet. His panther heart thumped loudly in his chest. He was within leaping distance. Adrenalin raced through his body as he drew back, then launched himself out of the shadows and toward the dragon’s throat. Bronwyn could barely look. Would the dragon see him in time to defend itself? Apparently not. The panther landed on the creature’s back, between large, leathery wings. He dug razor claws in, to keep his grip, and without hesitating, clamped his jaws on the unsuspecting animal’s neck. The dragon let out a wild squeal. The noise shot through Bronwyn’s ears, leaving them ringing. Surely other dragons would hear and come down to help their comrade.

  Bronwyn didn’t want to see such a magnificent creature die. Avruellen had always told her what a great friend they were to humans. On the other hand, she definitely didn’t want to see Sinje die. The dragon was doing its best to dislodge the panther, but its short arms couldn’t reach behind that far. What the cat was doing was not going to kill the dragon, although he was obviously in a lot of pain. What was Sinje trying to do, wear it down?

  Bronwyn heard the dragon speak in mind voice to her creatura. Who are you? Why are you doing this? Let go before I’m forced to kill you. Sinje didn’t answer; he just clamped his jaws down tighter. The dragon stopped dancing around and jumped in the river. He placed his back under the freezing water, totally submerging Sinje. Bronwyn couldn’t see what was happening any more, and forgetting all reason, ran to where they had commenced the melee.

  She looked down and saw the dragon thrashing about in an effort to keep Sinje under water. Bronwyn wasn’t sure how long panthers could hold their breath, however the dragon seemed as if he could stay there all day. The dragon tilted his large, scaly head up, locking eyes with Bronwyn. Vicious black orbs threatened her. She didn’t know what to do and was practically paralysed with fear. Jumping in to help didn’t appear to be a sensible option; maybe she should plead with the beast. It was probably too late for that and they did, still, have to try to kill him. What was she going to say, “Please, sir dragon, leave my friend alone so we can kill you?” She didn’t think so.

  Time passed. Sinjenasta couldn’t hold out for much longer, but if he released his grip, the dragon would turn and kill him with his giant maw. Bronwyn shut her eyes to break the chain of fear the dragon created with his stare. Realmistry was almost useless against dragons; they had practically invented it. She drew her sword and jumped in, eyes still shut. She opened them underwater. She assumed she had one attempt at putting the blade in the creature’s belly. She could see a darker mass in front of her. Hoping the dragon hadn’t turned Sinje toward her, she gathered force from the roiling water and used it to push her body toward the thrashing pair. Sword held out in front, she braced for the impact.

  The blade, given to her by Avruellen, struck the dragon. Dense scales resisted for a moment, then gave way as Bronwyn released the rest of the water’s energy. She could hear the death squeal from underwater. The sword lodged in the beast’s belly. She released her hold on it and returned to the surface, frantically swimming around to find Sinje. A red hue sullied the water. She hoped none of it belonged to her creatura.

  Sinjenasta, realising the dragon had ceased thrashing, even moving, unlocked his jaws. He was almost out of breath; it was all he could do to push his nose into the sweet air. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but when he saw Bronwyn, he was relieved she had decided to get involved. His relief was short-lived. Standing above them, at the edge of the stained water, taking in the whole scene, were two murderous-looking dragons.

  Bronwyn followed Sinje’s gaze and when she saw the massive creatures she knew they were in trouble. The young realmist’s heart pounded even harder at the realisation they had been caught. The brief belief they would exit the river alive disappeared, sinking heavily to rest as a great weight on the bottom of her mind.

  “I am Jazmonilly Accorterroza, Queen of Vellonia, and I want to know why you have killed my nephew.” Bronwyn groaned. Out of all the dragons in the world, they had to murder royalty. The fact she had murdered at all should have been a shock to her. The realmist had never killed before. She turned her head and saw the carcass floating on the water face down. What had she done? She had spilled blood, lots of it, to end another’s existence. Guilt and horror forced her to see herself in a different way. By the time the dragons fished her from the river to face the wrath of the Dragon Queen, she didn’t care what might happen.

  23

  Bl
ayke sat quietly beside the neatly made bed. Agmunsten had managed to stabilise Arcon, and they had moved him to his own room. The young man sat and waited. The leader of The Circle had exhausted himself trying to save his patient. Zim had sent food in to Agmunsten after he had been shut away for more than a day and night. The servant conveying the meal had found him lying on the ground. Unable to wake him, she had called Zim, who had performed some basic healing and carried him to his room; Agmunsten would be okay, he was just exhausted. Arcon, on the other hand, remained frighteningly close to death. Agmunsten had only half-done the job.

  As each minute passed with no change, Blayke worried more. Phantom had taken his place on the window-side table. The owl had not moved since Arcon’s arrival. Blayke knew Phantom would almost certainly die of grief if the old realmist died, and was almost sure he would too. The man lying in the bed was practically his father; he had been the one who had comforted him when he was sad, played with him as a young child, nursed him through every illness, and he was the person he clung to at night when he had woken from every dragon-spawned nightmare. He couldn’t see how he could live through the grief of losing Arcon and sobbed every time he thought about it.

  Fang was a comfort. The rat stayed with him and tried to cheer him up, every now and then recounting some funny story or other about Arcon. Blayke also talked to the unmoving patient, hoping he heard. Blayke could hear muffled commotion outside the closed door. It sounded as if dragons were running past, some shouting as they went.

  “Fang, could you go and see what’s happening?” The rat nimbly climbed down the young man’s trouser leg and squeezed under the door.

  Fang stayed close to the wall to avoid being trodden on by any passing dragons. People were small enough to notice him, but he doubted dragons were. It seemed as if the procession had passed, so the small creatura continued down the hallway following the noise. He wondered if any other rats dwelled within Vellonia, caves being an ideal hiding place, although there was probably not much food. A rat would be safe here, a dragon would not waste the energy to catch one for the pathetic amount of food it provided, and Fang had never heard of dragons being afraid of rodents. Many a poor rat had been unfairly killed by a terrorized house-wife.