Athala could do no more than stare. Had this been Merylle’s plan this whole time? She murdered a woman who was once her friend in cold blood. But before she did, she lectured her. Made her question herself and her worth. Was her need for revenge so brutal?
“Overseers,” Merylle said at last, once her former friend stopped moving. She turned and looked back at the group. Athala could see some sadness, some guilt, but it wasn’t nearly enough to account for the atrocity she had just committed. “To the stairs. Hold it for us as long as you can. Anything they can spare from fighting the fire, they’ll send at us.” She took a slow, ragged breath. When she addressed the three companions, she didn’t look at them directly. “Elise, do what you and your friends need to do. I want to be out of here as soon as possible.”
Merylle didn’t wait for a response from anyone. With a shake of her hand she sheathed her blade once more and then stalked off to the side door Athala had seen when they entered. Though Elise reached out to her as she passed, neither woman said anything.
“We need to get to work,” Ermolt said in a thick voice as he laid a hand on Elise’s shoulder. “You can give her all the comfort she needs once we’re done here.” He grimaced up at the dragon. “If she still wants it from you after we’ve done it.”
Elise grimaced. A plethora of emotions crossed her face, one after another. Athala didn’t envy her. When the Conscript finally swallowed those thoughts and fears, she turned to Athala who had just been standing in silence and watching her. “You may as well get started. Do you need any help from us?”
“No,” Athala said cautiously. She shook herself out of the stupor and started approaching the spell-entrapped dragon. Athala was careful to give the corpse wide berth as she approached the swirl of runes around the dragon. She tried to ignore the seeping river of red, and how it ran through the blades of grass as if the ground refused to soak it up. “I, um, I just need a little bit.”
Ermolt moved the body away as Athala began to examine the semitransparent runes. She was thankful for it, as knowing the corpse was there was a burden on her mind.
Athala reached into her knapsack and pulled out a notepad and pencil and stared at the runes as they spun through the air above her. When she found the start of the chain, she began to scribble furiously, filling the notepad with draconian symbols, focusing on getting them down well enough to recognize rather than filling out every intricate detail of the gorgeous script shimmering around the dragon.
As she went, she reflexively left blank spaces in her list of runes, and once finished, realized that the gaps were logical in a strange way. It felt natural to her, like a part of her knew that something was missing, and supposed to fill that space.
“Athala,” Elise said, and Athala realized she’d been staring at her notes. “Is there a problem?”
“The spell is missing runes, just like the one in Khule.” Athala said, flipping back through her notes. “There’s a puzzle here to figure out the missing pieces.”
“Like in Khule?” Elise sighed heavily. “Do we need to search the temple for stones with draconian runes on them? Because I don’t know if we have that option.”
“No,” Athala said, trailing off as she flipped through her notes, looking over her crude drawings of the temple layout. It fit. She didn’t know how she’d know, but it fit. “The, um, the solution is here. The Temple layout itself.” She flipped one page back and forth between the first and second floor. “Yes! The walls of the priest’s quarters, overlaid over the indoor parks of the first floor. The whole temple is the puzzle.” She flipped back to her copied list of the runes, and began to scribble symbols into the gaps.
“So you’re good?” Elise asked. Athala could hear her approaching footsteps on the grass behind her.
“I’ve got it.” Athala grinned fiercely, looking up at the trapped beast. She waved a hand in the air to ward off the Conscript. “It’s easier than in Khule. Now I know what I’m looking for.”
“Good.” Elise sounded relieved. “Get started then. We’re right here with you when you’re done.” She started away again when there was a burst of noise from the far end of the room.
“Elise!” Ermolt called from the stairs. A clatter of armored footsteps on stone almost drowned him out. “We’ve got incoming!”
Elise fled across the room to back Ermolt up. Athala tried to squash the panic fluttering in her throat. Even with a moment to gather her thoughts, it still came through her voice as she began to recite the spell.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Elise fumbled with her mace as she ran up behind Ermolt. Her aim was to stand at his side, but he was too busy organizing the small retinue of Overseers that Merylle had brought with them. The Overseers seemed frightened, and they well should be.
A shout erupted from the stairwell, followed by a clatter of armored bodies running up the stairs. Elise lowered her shield to her arm and adjusted it into place.
Elise was worried. If Athala released the dragon while they were still fighting off the oncoming guards, the precious moments of Sirur’s weakness would be stripped away. It was one thing for them to think they could take on a weakened dragon, but another entirely to fight it at full strength.
The first man crested the doorway from the stairs and Ermolt turned. “Overseers!” He paused, frowning. “Uh, halt. Hold position.”
Elise sighed a breath of relief. She clipped her mace to her hip, although she kept her shield at the ready. “Ibeyar,” she said, surprised at the relief audible in her voice. The man looked up at her. For the briefest moments he looked angry. “What’s the situation? What of the High Priest’s room?”
“They overran us,” Ibeyar said simply, his tone like a cool breeze. As his mercenaries filed in behind him, she could see that they were battered and bloodied. None looked overly injured, but Elise would have been more surprised if they were. Merylle had said Ibeyar’s men were quite the squadron. “We pulled the lever one last time and came straight here.” He looked down the stairs into the room below. “We have less than a quarter of a bell before the stairs close behind us. But even if it takes longer than that, Merylle and I figured out a backup plan. We—” he broke off abruptly, finally looking past Elise to Sirur. He simple stared at it, mouth slightly askew.
“I know,” Elise said, turning to watch as the runes began to pulse and swirl with Athala’s reading of the spell. Colors played across the dragon’s scales—first a gentle silver, no brighter than moonlight, but it shifted to a deep red that turned the dragon’s scales to crimson. The colors brightened the entire room, bathing them all in that quivering light. “It’s kind of terrifying, isn’t it?”
Ibeyar stepped up next to her. “I had always thought that the people of antiquity were fools to fear such creatures,” Ibeyar said in a quiet voice. “How could humanity submit to the rule of magical beasts? It is our very instinct, our nature, to defy authority.” Elise turned to watch him. A feverish look of awe widened his eyes, and the pulsing red light bathed him in an aura that made him look positively horrified. “The first thing we do when we are truly adults is to defy our parents. We skirt the law whenever we can—and when we can’t skirt it, we break it. People defy the government when they don’t agree with them. There are people who spit in the eyes of the Gods by refusing to worship them. Why did they not resist the rule of dragons?”
“Well, you can see it now,” Ermolt said from Ibeyar’s far side. “Dragons might just be magical beasts, but they are obviously not like us. You just look at them and know they aren’t mortal. And unlike the Gods, they aren’t some nebulous concept with lights and stories attached. They were beasts designed to be feared. Designed to rule.”
“Terrifying,” Ibeyar said at last. “Utterly terrifying. It’s the only thing I can think.”
A hush fell across them. The only thing saving them from absolute silence was Athala’s clear voice as she reciting the incomprehensible draconian words.
Elise watched the mercenary from the
corner of her eye. His words claimed fear, but his expression was much more that of a man who saw power he could take. It was something she was used to seeing from mercenaries, especially since her time working with Ermolt. Being a sword for hire was one of taking advantages wherever they came, and Elise didn’t envy them.
While being a Conscript was generally very routine, it did have its exciting moments. And this assignment was the closest she’d ever been to a mercenary’s line of work. But when all was said and done, she would return to service and things would be quiet in her world once more.
Athala’s pitch began to climb in intensity as she drew closer and closer to absorbing the spell. It snapped those standing and staring out of their stupor.
“What happened to Merylle?” Ibeyar asked after the moment of awe passed.
Ermolt and Elise both pointed in different directions. Elise bristled as Ibeyar looked to Ermolt’s direction first. The barbarian had pointed to the corpse of the High Priest arranged on the floor by the wall. Ibeyar clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in disappointment. “A shame,” he said before following Elise’s direction next. She had pointed to the room into which Merylle had vanished. He nodded once and started off in that direction.
“I believe she wanted to be alone,” Elise said firmly, stopping him before he got too far.
“It’s fine. I’m—I’m fine,” Merylle said as she appeared in the nearly impossible doorway. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet, but she had finished her crying. It hurt Elise to see the pain still in her eyes, but her voice was smooth and commanding. She looked over those collected and jolted upon seeing the mercenaries, as if she hadn’t noticed them before. “Ibeyar. Report. What’s the situation?”
“They took the High Priest’s room from us, but we were able to get out with no losses.” Ibeyar gestured over towards Athala and the crimson runes. “It also appears that Sirur is almost freed,” he added in a stoic tone.
“Right.” Merylle sighed heavily. “I suppose it is time then.”
“Time?” Elise asked. The Overseer averted her gaze, instead turning to face the gathered Overseers behind her.
The air in the dome changed as Athala finished absorbing the spell. There was an audible crackle, like a thin layer of ice atop fresh snow, and the dragon began to move. Slowly.
As the spell faded away, drawn into the wizard who spoke it, it seemed as though a thin film of red was peeling away from the dragon. Elise was struck to find the horns upon its body were a pearly-white, and the scales as a pale blue.
It was almost a different creature.
When the last of the film vanished, the tips of its wings began to move, tracing their course almost imperceptibly, as the passage of time began to reassert itself over the creature slowly, one languid moment at a time.
Movement caught Elise’s eyes as Merylle stepped forward. The Overseer’s eyes were turned away from the spectacle of the dragon’s awakening though. It took Elise a moment to realize Merylle was looking at her. There was sorrow in her eyes. Elise moved to ask what was wrong, but she didn’t get far. The Overseer lifted one hand reluctantly and snapped her fingers.
It was a signal. One everyone had been waiting for.
Everyone except Elise and Ermolt that was.
Hands grabbed them from behind. The Overseers were still armed with swords so only a single hand from each pair was able to grab her, and they were hesitant. She slapped the hands away and spun out of reach.
Just a few fen away, Ermolt roared in the way he always did before he hit something. There were some dull thuds from his direction, but there were too many people between him and her for Elise to know what happened. She drew her mace, and made ready to defend herself.
The oncoming Overseers were still obviously seeking to capture her rather than actually attack. She wasn’t sure why they hesitated, but Elise was equal parts confused and angry, and so had no issue with striking back. She lashed out with her mace, and the Overseers backed away as one, two of them clutching bruised or even broken arms.
Elise roared with confusion and anger, mimicking Ermolt’s earlier battle cry. She lunged ahead with another strike and caught one of them in the shoulder, dropping the man to his knees. She’d heard the joint cracking under the head of her weapon with that one. They turned to face her with swords, and circled to try and surround her, but that put them within Ermolt’s reach.
When Elise had first met Ermolt, she had expected that he would be vulnerable to being outnumbered. She anticipated him fighting like a bear against a pack of wolves, swiping angrily to no avail, suffering from a death of a thousand cuts after being flanked and outmaneuvered at every turn. But she had known him long enough now to not be surprised by the state of affairs a few fen away as her attention was drawn that way.
Four Overseers were already on the ground. Some of them were struggling back to their feet, but at least one had curled up around himself protectively, simply trying to avoid being stepped on. The barbarian had grabbed one of the Overseers by the front of his armor and was swinging him around like a chair in a barfight. He battered his assailants with the body of one of their own.
As Elise’s attackers tried to encircle her, Ermolt whipped his “weapon” up, smashing them into the circle and scattering them. He spun with the attack and hurled the Overseer he held into the group trying to close in around behind him. The man spun away and Ermolt stepped into the breach, moving to protect Elise’s back.
“It seems I’ve disarmed myself!” Ermolt laughed as he raised his empty hands, fingers curled not quite into fists. He looked ridiculous in that stone armor, but the manic look across his face would have dissuaded anyone from not taking him seriously. “Do we have any volunteers for a replacement?”
“I have one,” Merylle said casually from across the room. Elise and Ermolt paused their fight, sharing a look before they turned their eyes to Merylle.
The Overseer stood beneath the arcing wings of Sirur, dragon of Teis. Elise was surprised to see that a calmness had filled her, much like a rapid river eventually succumbs to the ice of winter.
In one arm she held Athala around the waist. In the other, her bloody dagger to the wizard’s throat.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
In the silver light of the star-lit sky, the blood on the dagger shimmered. Elise thought Athala was dead. A slow, distraught dread filled Elise, causing her chest to tighten and her skin to grow cold.
The wizard moved in Merylle’s grasp, trying to pull away from the blade.
Elise blinked. Not dead. The dagger was just still bloodied from cutting the High Priest down. Athala was unharmed, but from the way she was standing, it was a near thing.
Athala had sagged in the Overseer’s grasp and her head was tipped back to keep the knife as far away as possible. There was a desperate plea in her eyes that Elise could see from across the room—Ingmar’s own knife had been at her throat so soon before and she likely was reliving the experience as she had so many times before.
Everyone in the room—Overseer and mercenary alike—stopped. For a moment, the only movement in the room was the final descent of the dragon’s great wings as they finished the flap that began centuries ago. The beast’s wings began to reverse direction, but there was an increased speed to this ascent. Time was catching up to the unbound creature.
“What are you doing?” Elise shouted to Merylle, even though she dared not take a step forward. “That thing is waking up! We don’t have time for this!”
Merylle ignored her. “Think very carefully about what you do from this moment forward. I care little for the life of this traitor. If you wish her to live, drop your weapons.” She inched the blade closer to Athala’s throat, drawing a whimper from the wizard.
Elise threw down her mace and raised her hands as the Overseers stepped in to grab her by the shoulders. She suppressed the urge to fight back. Elise had trained these men and women—she knew their strengths and weaknesses. She knew she could overcome
them. But fighting back would put Athala in danger, and Elise refused to cause her harm.
Next to Elise, Ermolt raised his hands too, letting them approach to grab him as well. Elise could tell the Overseers felt uncomfortable with the prospect of capturing Ermolt after seeing him lift one of their number easily enough to wield as a weapon.
“Excellent job, Merylle,” Ibeyar said as he stepped forward from behind his mercenaries. The man had retreated as soon as fighting broke out, but now that the danger was gone he emerged once more. Elise found herself disliking him greatly. “Now, let us finish this. I have places to be.”
“What do you mean?” Elise asked, struggling tentatively against the hands that held her. The Overseers redoubled their grip, but it still wasn’t enough. She’d be able to break free if she needed.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Ibeyar walked forward, his band of mercenaries keeping close to his person. “Merylle is working for me. I knew you came here to release Sirur. I knew you would lie to her and try to aid Teis as you did Ydia, so I offered to help catch you in the act.”
“That’s not our plan!” Elise struggled harder, her anger rising like a wave to crash against the shore.
In response to Elise’s attempts at freeing herself, Merylle leaned in closer to Athala’s neck. The wizard hissed as the blade cut her skin. Elise immediately went slack in the hands that held her.
Ibeyar—oblivious of the struggles of those around him—continued. “Meodryt dropped into the city of Khule only days ago, acting in Ydia’s name. Coming to your aid, if the rumors are true.” He whirled a hand through the air, accenting his words with the little flourish. “So are you trying to tell me that the dragon isn’t free? That it isn’t supporting Ydia’s power?”
“Yes, we did free Meodryt,” Elise said. “But—”
“And you did so to support Ydia, and Her plans, correct?” He smirked in a way that reminded Elise of Hern. Ibeyar thought he was winning.
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