Fallen Warrior (Fallen Trilogy book 3)

by Williams, Tess

  Cole stayed quiet for a time. He was standing off a foot away from me, and I could feel the distance like a tugging draw, but I didn't bridge it. Finally he spoke in a strict tone, "Are you thinking of Cyric again?" he asked.

  "I shall always be thinking of Cyric, Cole," I replied. "As I shall always like to." I didn't know if I added last part to a purpose. Perhaps, or perhaps not. I'd warned Cole already to be careful. Now it felt as if I was more in his power than ever, and it frightened me. Even in these sacred halls, with Tongon present, and a meeting with the rulers ahead, I didn't have a stronger sense of anything so much as Cole.

  He grew quiet again, and I expected him to say something negative once more, but instead he answered my first question, "I think Cyric would prefer to believe that could be true."

  I looked over at him instantly, affection pulling at me. "Thank you, Cole. Then I shall like to think so too."

  The next display, which Tongon showed us to, was the one to which he'd referred in Vishnu's pool, and even before he said a thing about it, I reacted.

  Releasing Cole—for the first time feeling more drawn away from him, tha n to him—I started up the steps of the display. It was set on a pedestal, just like the others, and encased by flames, but these ones were circled on the pedestal, small flames at its four corners, then at the center was a bowl. Inside of it were colored shards, tiny shards like chips of stone; clear and sparkling turquoise as if they'd been dipped in Vishnu's pool.

  "When I said that your countrymen had visited us, Ellia Solidor, this was how I knew. It was a gift."

  "It's from Shaundakul," I understood.

  "Yes," Tongon confirmed.

  My expression narrowed as I reached a hand up towards it. For me it seemed to pulse with something inexplicable—as if it were alive. Once I was within an inch of the shards, it was as if I could feel a field of force around it. Still, I could hardly hold my fingers back from dipping into the bowl. "What are they?" I asked.

  "They are part to a myth," Tongon replied, "The same as all the kingdoms, Shaundakul has its myths, and they are tied with the others. These stones were a pledge, as those you received from other Constellation Animal. But these were given to us long ago, by one of your ancestors, for safe-keeping."

  I blinked, still watching the shards and their strange energy, feeling it all about. Thinking of Shaundakul, I brought my hand close against my chest. I looked at my fingers, and then I made them disappear to smoke. It was the first time that I had done it purposefully since I'd learned of Cyric's death. With a short breath, I reappeared them again.

  "Why haven't I heard any of these things, if my ancestors have been here before?" I asked. "Not even of the Constellation Animals? not of this gift?" I turned around as I asked this of Tongon. Cole still stood beside him, where I'd left him. It looked as if I'd interrupted them speaking.

  Tongon shook his head. "I do not know of your people. Perhaps the history was lost. Or perhaps, it was something kept a secret until its rulers reached a certain age. The children of Qinglong have not visited us for many generations."

  .

  "And what of their purpose?" I asked. "So many of the things here are magical. Are these the same?"

  Instead of answering, Tongon bowed to me, his blue cap tipping forward. "There is much still to see, Princess of Shaundakul."

  #

  "Can you see anything, Ellia?" Cole asked me. "Besides the stars and fountain, I mean."

  I tried to look at him, but the direction of his voice was all blackness. I shook my head. Only after a moment did I realize he might not be able to tell that. "No. Why, can you?" I replied. "Your eyes work so well for the dark don't they?"

  I waited for his answer, breathing against the cold—but only a while before we had both been much warmer, alone and in the light.

  Tongon had left us to go and speak with his fellows; there were some of them walking about now, off in distant chambers and halls, but Cole and I were unbothered, standing before a wall that went up perhaps thirty feet. On it was drawn pictures. Tongon had already walked us through a long length of them—those that mimicked the markings on the wall of the tunnel which Cole and I had missed. Now we were to a space all golden, and the only torches about were golden as well, but stories on the wall weren't recognizable to me.

  "You said you know of this, Cole," I said, "So Tongon left us, but I don't, so where could you have learned it? It's to do with the Constellation Animals, isn't it?"

  "That's right," he replied. "That's why I know of it. I read about it with the other myths."

  "But I read all of those myself as well. There was nothing about a golden dragon."

  I turned from the wall, to look at Cole.

  His eyes were golden of course. He shrugged. "You must have missed one."

  I pressed my lips, into a sort of pout. I watched back to the wall. Then I felt Cole behind me. He put his arms around me, his head over my shoulder. I knew he meant to speak of the drawings on the wall, so I should study them carefully, but for a moment I closed my eyes, doing nothing but leaning back against him, until I was sure he must have been supporting me fully.

  "You see that blue ring there," he said, "That represents Shaundakul, I should think, that's where the story begins."

  "Why should a blue ring represent Shaundakul?" I asked, opening my eyes back, and looking where I guessed he meant, just to the right of us.

  "Blue, purple, silver—those are your colors, aren't they? And see, the dragon just above it?"

  "A silver dragon. My grandfather had a dragon of such of a color."

  "It's depicted, breathing fire," Cole went on, "As dragon's do. Or, better said, as Azure dragons do. Then there's the other type."

  "A golden dragon?" I followed.

  "Right." Cole pointed upwards, then, seeming to think better of it, he moved his hand to my arm, then pointed it on instead. "Now do you see that colored ring? It's much larger."

  "The one with the dragon in the middle."

  "You're getting ahead of things," Cole chided.

  I smiled short. "I didn't know that you were so severe with stories, Cole."

  "Only when you've trusted me to tell it right," he said smoothly, then, still holding my arm: "The ring represents the Constellation Animals," he added. He laced his fingers up through mine, then moved it, up to down, left to right, across the circle as he spoke. "Genbu, Echren, Shaundakul, Byako."

  "There's all the colors there," I said, understanding. For that's how it was. I hadn't noticed before, but now I saw that the colors of the ring altogether, though they mingled fluidly, depicted on each side, the colors of its corresponding nation. To the north, Genbu was vivid blue, and deep blue like the night sky, then bright sapphire blue. Byako's were shades of dark grey, one of them a purplish hue exactly similar to my sword. Now that I thought of it, they were the same shades which the White Tiger's fur seemed to glow.

  "So what's it to do with the golden dragon?" I asked.

  Cole moved my arm back down—though he didn't release it. He kept his hand put over my inner wrist, where he continued to run his fingers back and around it—as if perpetually confirming that it were still within his grasp.

  "There, near the yellow ring—do you see the dragon above it?" he asked.

  This was on the opposite side of the larger ring. I nodded.

  "That's the golden dragon. And you see its breath?"

  "It's blue," I said. "Light blue. Blue fire?"

  He shook his head. "It's lightning," he explained.

  "Oh, that's why it's sharp like that. Now, I see it does look like lightning."

  "That's the power of the golden dragon," Cole explained. "They can shoot lighting as dragons or chimera might breathe fire. You see it there, within the ring of Constellation Animals because it's one of them."

  "What?" I choked out.

  He smiled short, forcing a breath in my ear, "Rumored to be," he corrected, "According to this myth. But it's not present in most, so it's unlikel
y. There aren't any granted animals with that power anyways."

  "Sometimes chimera are depicted shooting lightning," I said. "I read that in books when I was younger. I liked to think they did." I thought of Cyric, the morning of the battle, calling fireballs, fire bolts; and lightning bolts, lightning balls.

  "Yes, but we've seen the chimera for ourselves now, haven't we? And they don't," Cole explained. Cole hadn't stopped holding onto my arms, but now he'd moved his hands over my fingers, lacing them through. If there were any way which he might more increase the sense of marking me which I had felt before, his hand on my back, I did not know what it could be.

  "What's it to do with the Azure dragons then?" I asked. "You said the story began there."

  "Yes. That's because the Dragon lords were the ones to call the golden dragon in the first place, at least according to this myth. The golden dragon came when the others needed help. That's why it's at the center of the ring of Constellation Animals. It's known as the fifth."

  "How could there be a fifth?" I countered. "There are only four directions, aren't there?"

  "Its direction is the center. Its element is earth. In its myth, the dragon lords called the golden dragons out of a river—to fix a hole made in the sky."

  "A hole in the sky?" I repeated. Then I felt my body shaking a little with laughter. "This really is a fantastical story."

  "With the lightning and all, I suppose," he said. "But I guess that's why it's not written in most of the myths. If it was, when I read it, it was in the later stories. That means it's likely that someone only added them after learning of the others."

  "So it's like... a story of a myth?" I asked, with some difficulty.

  Cole laughed. "That's probably the best way to put it."

  I studied the dragon again. Cole wasn't releasing me and I didn't mind. There was a torch just beside us, and I could hear the sound of other Vishnuites moving off behind, but I didn't care very much how they saw me.

  The dragon looked just the same as the silver one. Smooth with wings and a long slicked back tail. I tried to recall myself if I'd ever heard of a golden dragon, belonging to one of my ancestors, or the other keepers. The closest I could think of was pink, belonging to a parent of Scholar Padril's, back when dragons had been much higher in number than they had been at the destruction of Uldin Keep.

  "Say, Cole," I said suddenly, not thinking of the myths any longer, but not wanting to say so, in case it meant he'd let me go, "remember how I told a little about my old Scholar in Shaundakul?"

  He moved his hands, back from my fingers to my wrists. "Yes, I remember."

  "I think Tongon reminds me a little of him. He was like that, finding strange things funny. And seeming young, even though he was old."

  Cole's hands went still a moment, then he breathed a short smile. "That's funny. I was thinking he seemed familiar as well, though I couldn't think of where from. Maybe it was your scholar, then."

  "How could he be familiar to you, when you've never even met him, Cole?" I pointed out.

  His hands stopped again. But then very quickly, he shrugged. "Because I've heard so much of him from you, I guess."

  I snorted. "Once, you told me I must pay very much attention to what you do. Well, you must pay very much attention to what I say, for my old acquaintances to become familiar to you."

  "I always pay attention to you, Ellia. Sometimes I feel as if I lived with you in Shaundakul, for as long as you were there, even when you were a child. All of it."

  I took a heady breath, filling my whole body. It was suddenly too much to be standing there in such a way. It didn't at all help the adhesive feeling; it only made it seem as if I needed to be closer, which was no longer possible.

  I wasn't disappointed when I heard steps pattering closer, and then looked to see one of the Vishnuites walking towards us. It wasn't Tongon, but he was clearly headed to our way. I disentangled myself from Cole, breathing steadily throughout, then I was ready to bow my head respectfully as the Vishnuite approached.

  He bowed as well, a capped head, then lifted it back. "Tongon has sent me to escort you on to the final chamber. I am one of its keepers. He also asks that I confirm whether you had heard the final tale?"

  I looked up and over at the wall with the image of the golden dragon, then to Cole.

  "She has," he answered, assuredly enough that I didn't doubt it.

  Tongon's replacement stretched his hand out. "Then I will lead you on. If you please." I moved off where he gestured, while Cole waited for him to pass. As soon as he'd come back beside me though, he took my waist, holding above my belt. It wasn't just claiming this time; it was almost as if there was something defiant about it—though I couldn't tell who he was defying.

  We followed like that not very far, then came to a door. There was a pattern above it like an arch; a rainbow arch, with a starry sky above it, but the door itself was small and plain. When the robed man opened it, there was only blackness within. I felt Cole's hand tense up, but was quickly distracted from it as our new guide spoke. "It's called the chamber of stars," he said. "It isn't so dark as it seems. You will see."

  Upon hearing this, I was perfectly excited to go on. A chamber of stars? Was it like the Genbuan's granted temple? Instead of asking, I only moved on. It was too thin to go but one at a time, but before I'd even gotten through the door, Cole reached for my hand, and came along. I half-smiled at it. But then my breath was quickly taken. It was almost exactly what could be expected of Genbu, with the idea of a granted constellation temple in mind. It was perfectly large, distractingly large, only it was hard to tell it was so large, where it ended; for covering its ceiling, which was domed, were pinpricks of light forming constellations. Then in the very center of the dome, on the floor, there was something glowing blue. It looked like another pedestal.

  I shivered for the cold of the place, as I asked Cole whether he thought it was beautiful. Just a whisper, as Tongon's replacement came inside, then closed the door, cutting off all light but the stars and the bluish object at the center.

  "Right, it's..." Cole started. His grip grew suddenly tight as our guide spoke just beside us.

  "The light is made from outside. You might not have realized in your traveling, but we've come full back to the mountainside. This chamber is encased in ice, the holes have been carefully placed to reflect the true constellations. Follow me to the fountain if you will."

  He walked on, his movements marked by scuffling steps, and a dim shadow over the blue light. So it was a fountain, not a pedestal.

  "Ice," I repeated for Cole's ear, walking on after him. "No wonder it's so cold. I wish we hadn't left our coats."

  Cole's grip on my hand hadn't loosened much. I glanced down, but couldn't see it. Then I heard his voice, sounding sort of forced. "Yes, I suppose that's why Tongon suggested we dress in layers."

  I started to nod, then glanced up at the stars again, while our guide spoke on. "This fountain holds sacred waters. They were once used to sustain the Tortoises, now they're all that remains of the waters of the great flood, contained here, for all time."

  Cole and I came to stop beside the blue glow—which was now obviously not a pedestal, though it didn't look much like a fountain either. The water wasn't moving; it was only sitting constant in something akin to a bird bath. The water itself glowed such a deep blue, that even when I glanced at Cole, his eyes didn't reflect it.

  "In past generations, we would offer the water to our guests. Sadly, since this is all that remains, we ask that you do not touch it. But please, stay here, and look over the constellations. Do you know the positions of the four great animals? I could point them out for you."

  I took a quick glance around the room, but I'd already spotted most of them. I shook my head. "No. Only... do you know if there's a constellation for the golden dragon?" I wondered. And then, thinking quickly of Cole's assistance in explaining the tale before, and not wanting to offend him, I added, "Or do you, Cole?"

  For a
moment, neither of them spoke. Cole was looking towards the fountain. "I didn't read of one," he said eventually.

  "I must agree as well," the Vishnuite added, "there's no such constellation, and I am the keeper of such things. Is there anything else I could tell you?"

  "No," I replied, letting last shreds of hope in the story go. "Thank you. But you said we could stay a while?" I asked hopefully.

  He nodded his head; in the pale light, I could just make out the shift of his blue cap. "Yes, you're welcome to wait here for Tongon, or you could remain in the hall. I will wait outside, if you require me."

  "Alright. Thank you again," I said.

  He bowed a second time. Then he walked off, with pattering steps. I waited until the door flashed open and closed with a thud, before I looked back up, Cole's hand still in my mine. "Oh, I'm glad we get to wait here," I said. "Cole, have I told you? I simply love these places. I loved them even when I was young, in Uldin Keep, and I didn't know the significance of the stars. Not the significance for as far as they had to do with granted animals, anyways."

  "Aren't you going to get cold?" Cole wondered.

  I scoffed, turning round, even releasing his hand to cross my arms. "I'll bear up under it. You don't—" I started to say, and meant to go on with an "have to stay, if you'd rather not" but feeling my whole soul in rebellion of this, I simply stepped forward lightly, switching terms. You don't... "...get so cold, do you Cole, so you'll bear it well, won't you?"