“There is,” Chen said, removing the dragon-bone amulet from his shirt and lifting it from around his neck. “I want you to have this.” He held it out to her.
Imogen’s eyes went wide and she leaned back, shaking her head. “No, I wouldn’t know what to do with it. Besides, it’s yours, a gift from your father … you should keep it.”
“I have no further need of it,” Chen said, leaning across the table and taking her hand. He pressed the amulet into her palm and gently curled her fingers around the ancient artifact. “It will serve you well in the coming days.”
“I don’t even know how to use it,” she said, looking at the small charm with equal measures of awe and fear.
“Your father taught you meditation, did he not?”
“Yes, but I haven’t practiced for years.”
“I suggest you renew your efforts,” Chen said. “Focus your mind on your child. See him alive and well and in your care. Do this every day. Keep this thought in your mind. Obsess on it. Focus on it to the exclusion of all else. This is the essence of manifestation magic. See the result you desire in full and complete detail as if it had already come to pass. The amulet will transmute your will into reality.”
She frowned deeply, her eyes never wavering from the dragon bone. “That’s really all there is to it? Magic, I mean?”
Chen chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh no, my dear. There is much more to magic than just that. But that is a start, and a good one. It will put you on the right path. Resist the temptation to beseech the aid of beings and entities from other realms. Now that you bear the amulet, you will occasionally see things that others cannot. Beings will attempt to bargain with you from time to time. Ignore them. Keep your mind focused on your son. Avoid speculation and worry, for these can be made manifest as well if you allow your mind to dwell upon them.”
“It sounds like this can be dangerous.”
“Indeed it can,” Chen said. “If you find your mind wandering astray, remember the love you have for your son. Love is the greatest power of all, the very essence of creation. Hold that love in your heart and mind, and the darkness will vanish like the night falls to the dawn.”
“Why me? Why not give this to my father?”
Chen smiled, shaking his head. “Your father doesn’t need it. And he doesn’t have the kind of love you do for your son. That is your true power.”
“You could keep it and come with us,” she said, holding it out to him.
“No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “My fight is over.”
“What do you mean?”
“I will pass from this world soon.”
“But, why?”
“My time here is nearly at an end,” he said with a shrug.
“No … you’ve been so kind to us. Are you sick? Can we help you?”
He chuckled. “No, my dear, I am quite healthy.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Nor would I expect you to, but perhaps, with diligent attention to your meditation, someday you will.”
Sounds of someone approaching through the trees drew their attention. Chen leaned forward urgently.
“Quickly, put the amulet away. Tell no one of it save your father.” He held her eyes with a sternness that he had not shown before. “Your nephew Frank must never learn that you have it.”
Her eyes went wide and she nodded tightly, slipping the leather thong around her neck and dropping the amulet inside her shirt.
Frank came out of the trees a few moments later, casually scanning the scene, his eyes landing on Chen briefly before he smiled at Imogen.
“How are they?” he asked, gesturing toward Ben and Rufus.
“Still sleeping,” Imogen said.
“I doubt they’ll wake until morning,” Chen said, taking up his kettle. “Tea?”
Frank sat down next to Imogen, nodding to Chen.
Chapter 17
Ben woke under the stars. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton and his head hurt behind his eyes. When he stirred, Homer sprang to his feet, spun in a circle and licked Ben’s face. He groaned but scratched Homer’s ears nonetheless.
“How long was I out?”
“All day and most of the night,” Homer said, lying down next to him, tail wagging.
“Did it work?”
“Chen said it did.”
Ben rolled over on his back and felt his chest. The scratches were still tender but the wrongness that had permeated his wounds was gone. More importantly, he didn’t remember any dreams. Then his experience in whatever dark and cold realm the stalkers came from hit him like a falling tree.
All of the fear and despair he’d felt came rushing back, threatening to overwhelm his sanity. Homer nosed him, whining softly. “You’re safe,” he said.
Ben focused on his breathing, trying to slow his racing heart. He felt a profound sense of gratitude to be here in this world. Even with all of its hardships and problems, it was infinitely better than the alternative. And yet, a deep and abiding dread filled him at the thought of such a horrible place even existing. For all of the beauty and light in the world, Ben would know for the rest of his life that there was a place of total hopelessness somewhere out there—a place that he never wanted to return to.
He took a moment to relax his body while he looked up at the stars. One of those points of light was the home of the dragons. They could get here, but Ben couldn’t bring himself to imagine a circumstance where people could go there. And even if people could take the war to the dragons’ home, he doubted humanity would be able to do much of anything against them. It seemed like such an insurmountable challenge. The dragons had all of the advantages.
“Not all,” Homer said.
“What do you mean?”
“Dragons can’t love.”
Ben smiled in the dark. It was a small comfort, but it was enough for the moment. He spent a few minutes thinking about their situation and their enemy. As he pondered the state of his life, and faced all of the challenges arrayed against him, he was surprised to find that he wasn’t nearly as afraid as he had been just one day before. Then he realized why—his time in the stalker’s realm had shown him that there were greater things to fear than death or injury or failure.
But also, his experience had provided him with a kind of certainty that he’d never known before. If the dragons were willing to call on such creatures, to bring them into this world and unleash them on defenseless people for the purpose of terrorizing innocent communities into capitulating to their rule—if that was what was in the heart of the wyrm, then Ben resolved to cut it out of the beast’s chest.
He had no idea how he would accomplish such a thing. Just one day ago, it had seemed like a laughably impossible task. But now, with his new understanding of the enemy, the difficulty and danger of slaying the dragon was dwarfed by the absolute necessity of it.
As the first inkling of dawn began chasing the stars away, Ben felt a greater sense of purpose than ever before. Then he remembered his grandfather’s tearful apology, and it occurred to him that perhaps this had been his purpose all along.
When Chen emerged from his house, Ben got up and went to the table.
“Good morning,” Chen said.
Ben nodded to him. Then after several moments, he said, “Thank you, Chen. I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t saved me.”
“You are very welcome,” the little man said, stirring the bed of coals and setting the kettle next to the fire before coming to the table.
“Did you know? What it would be like, I mean?”
Chen shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving Ben’s.
“I didn’t know a place like that could exist,” Ben whispered. He swallowed hard and looked at the table, marshaling his courage before looking up again. “Was that hell?”
Chen shrugged. “Perhaps, but if it is, that is only one of many.”
Ben closed his eyes in dismay. One such realm was bad enough. The though
t of other places like that was more than he wanted to contemplate.
“How many different realms are there?”
“A great many,” Chen said. “Perhaps an infinite number.”
“Are they all so horrible?”
“No … of course not. This world is proof positive that there is also light.”
Hound woke in a flurry, wrestling his blankets to get free, scrambling to his feet in a crouch, ready for an attack.
“Rufus!” Ben said. “You’re safe … it’s over.”
Hound stopped, looked around at the serene setting in the growing light of dawn, took a slow deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. He opened his mouth to speak, then stopped and started looking for his shirt.
“How are you feeling?” Cyril asked, as he sat down next to Ben.
“Better,” he said, glancing at his grandfather and then looking away quickly. He wanted to confront him about his past, and about his plans for the future, but he wanted to have that conversation in private.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Cyril said. “You both had us worried.”
“I can tell you one thing,” Hound said, easing himself onto the bench across from Cyril. “Next time I run into one of those damn things, I’m going to feed it a grenade or two—no hesitation, no bullshit.”
“Had I known that they were as dangerous as they proved to be, I would have urged greater caution,” Cyril said. “Do you remember anything from the banishing?”
Ben and Hound nodded, their eyes haunted and distant.
Cyril looked to Chen.
“Try to avoid thinking of your ordeal,” Chen said.
“Easy for you to say,” Hound said. “You weren’t there.” He paused to look at Cyril, shaking his head in dismay. “I don’t scare easily, but that place ate what courage I had for lunch. I think I’d do just about anything to keep from going back there.”
“Your feelings are understandable,” Cyril said. “We aren’t meant to live in such a place.”
As the rest of the group came to the table, Chen poured tea and then began preparing breakfast.
Ben considered his newly decided, self-appointed purpose while he ate.
He was going to kill the dragon.
A part of him still laughed mockingly at the thought, but another part of him was resigned to the task, determined to find a way.
He would need weapons—and magic. But mostly he would need information. The how of it would be dictated by the true nature of the dragon, his vulnerabilities and his strengths. Ben knew that he was woefully ignorant of so many things—things that he would need to learn before he could achieve his goal. Worse still, many of those pieces of the puzzle would be carefully guarded secrets.
Then there was the need for help. He couldn’t accomplish such a thing by himself. As always, his first and most important ally was Homer.
“Would you think I was crazy if I tried to kill the dragon?”
“Yeah, but I’d help anyway.”
Ben smiled to himself before draining his teacup.
“So what are we going to do now?” Frank asked.
Ben felt a twinge of relief. He’d been weighing the idea of blurting out his newfound purpose, but the thought of saying it out loud made him uneasy.
“We’ll be on our way tomorrow,” Cyril said.
“We still need weapons,” Frank said, holding up his hatchet. “This isn’t going to cut it.”
“Probably not,” Cyril said, hesitating for several moments before nodding to himself. “I have a cache of weapons hidden west of Rogue City.”
“What?” Frank said. “Why is this the first we’re hearing of it?”
Cyril shrugged offhandedly. “Wouldn’t have done any good to tell you.”
Frank huffed, shaking his head. “I’m tired of being kept in the dark. We need to know everything you know or we can’t help you anymore.”
Cyril smiled at his grandson sadly. “If you wish to go your own way, I won’t stop you. I will miss you though.”
“What are you talking about? I’m staying with you. We just need you to stop keeping secrets.”
“We or you?”
Everyone else fell deathly silent.
“Ever since this whole thing started, you’ve been holding back,” Frank said, his anger dissolving as he donned a mask of sadness. “We’re family. Why don’t you trust us?”
Cyril leaned forward intently, holding Frank with his eyes until the young man started to fidget.
“We are at war. The most valuable commodity in war is information. If I told you we were headed for a weapons cache and you were captured by the Dragon Guard, they would torture you until you revealed our destination. Then, they would be waiting for us when we arrived. But … if I withhold that information, then you can’t betray our purpose to the enemy.”
Frank listened with his mouth agape, shaking his head ever so slightly.
“What the hell are you talking about? We’re just trying to get Imogen’s kid back. After that, we run.”
“Well, let’s just focus on rescuing Imogen’s son for now,” Cyril said. “After that we’ll have better information and we can make a more informed decision.” He held up his hand to stop Frank from speaking. “But, you need to understand that our success depends on treating this endeavor as a military operation, because that’s essentially what it is. We intend to gather information about the enemy and then use that information to exploit their weaknesses, attack their position, rescue my grandson and retreat with minimal casualties on our side.”
Frank put his hands up helplessly. “All right, that sounds like a military thing when you put it that way. Can you at least tell us what kind of weapons you have stashed away?”
“A few blades, a few guns, some grenades,” Cyril said.
Hound smiled, leaning in with interest.
“Why hide them in the first place?” Frank asked.
Cyril chuckled. “What else would I do with them? We’ve lived in a peaceful little community for years, and I didn’t want a bunch of weapons lying around for my two very curious grandsons to find and play with.”
Frank opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, frowning deeply.
“Take the day to rest and make ready to leave at first light,” Cyril said to the group. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go for a walk.”
“Sounds like a splendid idea,” Chen said.
After the two men were out of earshot, Hound smiled broadly and said, “I have to say, I do like the idea of more guns … and grenades.”
John nodded.
“I’m so tired of his secrets,” Frank said. “We have to band together and force him to tell us everything. Our lives might depend on it.”
“Force him?” Ben asked, chuckling. “How’re you going to do that?”
“He’s got a point,” Hound said. “Besides, I get why he’s playing things close to the vest. Can’t say I blame him.”
“But—”
“I won’t go against him,” Imogen said, cutting Frank off with a stern look.
“Me neither,” Ben said.
“Looks like you’ve been outvoted,” Hound said.
John nodded again.
“Don’t you want to know the truth?” Frank blustered.
“What truth are you talking about?” Hound asked.
“I don’t know!” Frank said. “That’s the point.”
When he was met with silence, he huffed and walked away into the woods.
Cyril and Chen walked through the trees in silence for a while until they reached a meadow and stepped out into the early morning sunshine. Chen stopped to close his eyes and lift his face to the light.
“You aren’t going to come with us,” Cyril said.
“No, my path leads elsewhere.”
“I both expected and feared that you’d say that.”
“You will need my help to escape the enemy,” Chen said.
“What do you mean?”
�
�They search the forest for you. I will lead them away to the east so you can flee to the west.”
“What are you saying, Chen? They’ll almost certainly have a stalker working with them and you’re not as spry as you used to be.”
“No,” Chen said, smiling wistfully. “But I’m still more nimble than I look.”
“They’ll catch you.”
“Yes, they will.”
Cyril blinked, deflating sadly as realization settled on him.
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve seen it. My time in this world is nearly at an end.”
Cyril shook his head in dismay. “There must be another way.”
Chen put his hand on Cyril’s shoulder. “As always, there are many paths. I choose to walk the one that will serve the greater good.”
“How will your death serve the greater good?”
Chen looked up at the sky, pointing to the bird circling high above them.
“It arrived this morning,” he said. “It marks our position. Even here, the wyrm’s minions will find us. I will delay them and buy you the time you need to escape.”
“You can’t just throw your life away. Not for us, not for anyone.”
“I’ve already lived my life. I’m old. My time in this world will come to an end very soon, whether I choose to help you or not.”
“I don’t want you to die,” Cyril whispered.
“Do not despair … I will pass into the light, for I have seen that as well.”
“You succeeded?” Cyril asked, startled.
“Oh yes. It took many years and required far more discipline and dedication than I ever thought it would, but I have glimpsed the light … and it’s more beautiful than words can convey. Very soon, I will return home.”
Cyril looked down at the ground. “I’ll miss you,” he said quietly.
“Have faith. In time, we will be reunited,” Chen said.
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am,” Chen said with a knowing smile. “How much will you reveal to them?”
Cyril frowned deeply, shaking his head. “As little as possible. I don’t dare tell Frank the truth. He’s my grandson and I love him, but I don’t trust him. I can’t.”
“No, you can’t. Ben is another matter.”
The Dragon's Egg (Dragonfall Book 1) Page 17