Her long hair blew in the sea breeze. Almost black, its color contrasted with her pale skin. A copper necklace with a medallion dedicated to the goddess Aeris graced her neck. Her large brown eyes stared directly into him.
‘Chloe . . .’ Dion finally tore his eyes away from her. ‘And Liana. It is good to see you both well.’ He saw Chloe frown slightly and took a deep breath. He knew he was speaking too formally, but he didn’t know what else to say. He softened his tone. ‘Thank you, Chloe. I heard what you did in Sindara. It can’t have been easy.’
Her frown deepened, and he knew her well enough to realize she was becoming angry. Perhaps he hadn’t been to see her, but it was better that way, and surely safer for her.
‘This was a bad idea,’ Chloe said. ‘I shouldn’t have come.’
Dion noticed that Liana was looking from face to face, staring at them both as if watching strange, incomprehensible creatures. She cleared her throat. ‘I think I’ll leave you to talk.’
Chloe waited until Liana had left and then stepped forward. She reached out to take Dion’s hand, but he moved back. A look of hurt crossed her face.
‘Why are you here?’ he asked.
‘Why—’ She broke off and color came to her cheeks. ‘You have to ask why I would come to see you?’
‘Chloe . . . Don’t you understand? Isobel died because of me. I don’t want you to be a target too. I want to protect you, and that means staying away from you.’
Chloe’s face tightened; her expression became fierce. ‘I don’t need you to look out for me. I’ve taken care of myself for a long time.’ She shook her head. ‘I came to you for advice, but I’m already regretting it.’
‘What are you planning?’ he asked slowly.
She lifted her chin. ‘I’m going to Athos. I have questions for the Oracle, and I thought you might too. We need to learn what we can.’
‘No,’ Dion snapped without thinking. ‘You can’t. It’s too dangerous. That sorceress, Zara . . . You broke her spell. She will be looking for you, and searching for magic could lead her to Athos.’
‘We are all of us in danger,’ Chloe said.
Dion thought furiously. He knew that once Chloe had made up her mind he would never convince her otherwise. But he simply couldn’t let her go to Athos when the sky might become filled with dragons at any time. He wanted her to be surrounded by soldiers, not risking herself far from home.
He had an idea. It wasn’t subtle, but it was the best he could come up with. ‘I need some time to think. Can you wait until the morning? You can stay here tonight in one of the guest chambers.’
Chloe frowned, but seeing Liana returning, her manner softened. ‘Yes, fine.’
‘I’ll summon the steward,’ Dion said.
‘Dion . . .’ Chloe called after him as he left. ‘I . . . I know you’re still grieving. Remember, it wasn’t your fault.’
The bed was comfortable, but Chloe tossed and turned for hours. Meanwhile Liana snored softly nearby; somehow Chloe had never suspected that an eldran might actually snore. Finally Chloe’s exhaustion won the battle with her hopes and fears and she sank into sleep.
It was still mostly dark, in the hour or so before dawn, when there was an urgent rapping on the door.
Chloe woke with a start, shaken out of a nightmare. She saw Liana hurry to the door and speak to someone for a short time. The rumble of a man’s voice was curt and quick before Liana replied. The conversation was over in moments and then Liana returned.
Chloe became worried when she saw Liana’s troubled expression. ‘What? What is it?’
‘There was an urgent message from Phalesia,’ Liana said. ‘Apparently . . . Apparently something has happened to your sister.’
‘Happened? What do you mean?’ Chloe rushed to the doorway and poked her head out, scanning the corridor, but the messenger was gone. She turned back to her friend. ‘What did he say?’
‘I asked him for information, but he didn’t know anything more. Only that you’re needed at home – urgently.’
Chloe stood transfixed for a moment. Sophia had been making poison. She might have had an accident. She could be dying.
Chloe started throwing items into her satchel. ‘Will you take me back to Phalesia?’ She glanced up at Liana.
‘Of course I will. We should say goodbye to Dion.’
‘There’s no time.’ Chloe straightened, ready to depart.
The next morning Dion was once again at the Orange Terrace. He pondered as he paced. He regretted deceiving Chloe and giving her false news about her sister, but he needed to keep her safe. He hadn’t bought much time, but when Chloe did finally make it to Athos he planned to have soldiers already on the island.
He came to a halt near the edge of the terrace where he had a clear view of the shore. The sight of his defenses helped him to think about something else.
A long palisade followed the sea. It stretched from one headland to the next, completely guarding the small bay that was Xanthos’s harbor. The barrier consisted of sharpened logs, embedded deep in the sand and leaning outward to face the water. The angle meant Dion’s ballista crews wouldn’t have to worry about an enemy coming in below their field of fire. Charging dragons might throw themselves onto the sharpened poles. The side of the city facing the sea was Dion’s weakness. He had to pray that the barrier would do its job.
Dion turned when he heard a gruff voice.
‘You asked for me, lad?’ Cob called as he approached.
Dion nodded and waved at his old friend to join him. He lifted his gaze to take stock of his fleet, drawn up side by side on the beach, just outside the barrier. There was a gap in the palisade, a moveable piece of fence that enabled the fishermen to reach their boats and the naval crews to take care of their ships. Dion had twenty-two warships in total, including six triremes, as well as a host of galleys and merchant vessels. The navy was grounded, at Dion’s orders. Palemon would come from the sky. This confrontation wouldn’t be fought on water.
Cob joined Dion at the rail, and Dion drew his attention to the ballistae. They were evenly spaced on the high ground inside the barrier, just as they guarded the walls on the city’s other side. The oversized crossbows were usually operated by men in pairs, but could be managed by a single warrior if need called for it.
‘Have you seen them in action?’ Dion asked.
Cob shook his head.
‘Watch.’
A burly soldier, stripped to the waist, was climbing one of the logs that formed the palisade. He reached the summit, then a companion below counted down from three and tossed up a wooden shield, two inches thick and three feet in diameter. The burly soldier caught it and, using the leather strap at the back, fixed the shield to the top of one of the poles. Finally he shimmied back down.
‘There he is.’ Dion pointed.
In his loose white robe and with his beard as long as ever, Xenophon stood out from the armored soldiers of Xanthos as he directed the proceedings. Crews waited at the ready at a dozen ballistae, while a crowd of onlookers watched from behind. At a command from the old philosopher, one soldier at each weapon wound the crank as a companion fitted a sharpened iron spear in the channel, ready to be propelled forward by the taut string of hardened leather. The muscles in the soldiers’ arms bulged when they lifted the stocks that pivoted on the weapon’s base and pointed their ballistae at the wooden shield. Meanwhile their companions took another projectile from the nearby barrel, ready to reload at a moment’s notice.
‘Here it comes,’ Dion murmured.
Xenophon called out, and in unison the dozen ballistae fired. The sound of the weapons snapping almost made Dion jump, and the black flashes of the projectiles were so swift that he could barely follow them. A split second after Xenophon’s shout, the shield was ruined beyond belief. Tatters of wood hung from seven or eight shafts embedded deep in the pole where the shield had been. The accuracy of the ballistae was impressive, but it was the weapons’ sheer power that was devastati
ng. There was no question of the thick shield deflecting a single strike. The logs behind, as thick as a big man’s thigh, had been penetrated clean through.
Cob let out a breath. ‘All right. I’m impressed.’
‘Wait,’ Dion said. ‘There’s more.’
The ballistae crews reloaded while Xenophon took another shield and walked through the gap in the barrier to reach the sandy beach, away from the soldiers’ view. The onlookers waited expectantly. The soldiers stood tensed and ready to fire their weapons. Without warning, Xenophon tossed the shield up and it arced into the sky, spinning as it gained height.
Again the ballistae fired. A cluster of a dozen iron spears peppered the sky. The shield dissolved in a splinter of fragments.
Dion nodded approvingly. Every shot had been close. And dragons were far bigger than shields.
Xenophon returned, while boys ran past him to dive into the sea and claim the bounty for any projectiles they could find. The philosopher moved on to the next dozen ballistae. The training would continue all day.
‘He’s utterly tireless,’ Dion said, watching him and shaking his head. ‘I don’t know how he finds the energy.’
‘I’ve thought that about you more than once,’ Cob said.
Dion smiled. ‘If I have half his vigor and a quarter of his wisdom when I’m his age, I’ll consider myself lucky.’
‘So what next?’
‘I hear the citadel at Fort Liberty is near completion.’
‘Aye, it is. Roxana’s there now. That woman knows how to organize a work crew.’
‘I’ll need you to take eighty ballistae with you when you go there. Get them up on the walls.’
‘You have enough to spare?’
‘Enough?’ Dion shrugged. ‘I’ve beggared the kingdom, but I can’t abandon Fort Liberty. I’m sending ballistae to Phalesia too.’
Cob scowled. ‘I hear most of your debts are to Phalesian lords. And now you’re giving them weapons with no promise of payment?’
‘I have to help the people I care about,’ Dion said. He hesitated. ‘And there is something else. I have a favor to ask.’
‘Anything, lad. You’re pushing yourself hard, I can see that. What can I do?’
‘How many ships are you taking to Fort Liberty?’
‘Three.’
‘Take five. And a full complement of marines. On your way to Fort Liberty, I need you to go to Athos.’
Cob frowned. ‘You want to give an offering to the Oracle?’
‘I want you to secure the island.’
‘Why?’ Cob’s brow furrowed, and then he realized. ‘Ah. Chloe wants to go there.’
Dion nodded. ‘She does.’
‘I understand,’ Cob said. ‘I’ll leave some men and send word when it’s done.’
‘Thank you, my friend.’
‘We all do what we can for the ones we love.’
6
Zara circled over the island, making sure she’d come to the right place before committing to her assault. The merchants in Malakai said that the isle of Athos was long and low, with a thick forest of evergreens spread like a blanket at one end and cliffs and barren rock at the other. There was a small sandy beach enclosed by headlands: Seer’s Cove, the only good harbor for ships to come and go. Ancient structures of stone, now in ruins, clustered near the hills on the isle’s western side.
She had chosen to make her approach a few hours after dusk. Night’s black curtain was firmly in place, but the sky was littered with stars and the crescent moon shone on the terrain below. She saw the woodland, the cliffs, and the cove, and the piles of stone that were too orderly to be natural. The island she was flying over matched the description she’d been given, but there was only one way to be certain. She ordered her dragon to descend. Then, finally, she saw what she was looking for.
Bright-colored flames flickered and danced on the rocky landscape, scattered around a path of blue stone and burning near a cave. Some of the flames were pure white, but others were as green as emeralds or as red as the dragon she was riding. Zara’s eyes lit up with excitement. This was the thrill she always felt in the presence of magic.
As she flew down toward the path of blue stone, the six dragon riders with her followed suit. They were all sorcerers, trained since birth in light, wind, sound, and fire. They had lost their comrades to the sea when the dark-haired woman broke the spell that had revealed ancient Aleuthea. Like Zara, they wanted revenge.
Seeing the way the multi-colored flames clustered around the cave, Zara knew where her destination should be. The Oracle – a woman of magical ability who gained wealth by claiming to foretell the future – was well known even in Malakai. Magic wasn’t unheard of in the Realm; it was merely rare. The dark-haired woman and the Oracle were clearly the same person. Zara’s gaze was on the open mouth of the cave.
She lifted her fire staff and pointed it at an angle as she gave a piercing shout. With a swift command through the copper chains, she told her scarlet dragon to put on speed, and soon the wind was howling past her ears as she plummeted. The six dragons formed a tight wedge around her, filling her with confidence.
Then a bright silver light flashed below. A heartbeat later something struck the group of dragons with the force of a hurricane.
Zara cried out. The group was ripped apart and suddenly Zara’s dragon was spinning in the air. She alternated glimpses of starlight with visions of the dark sea below, but kept her knees clenched tightly to her mount as she gripped the copper reins and issued firm mental commands to bring the creature under control. The twisting wind began to die down, and finally its ferocity eased. Zara was able to right herself and regain her bearings.
The formation had been broken apart, but her sorcerers were well trained and had regained control of their mounts just as she had. Zara’s stomach clenched. She had been expecting to find defenders, but for a brief moment she wondered if she should have brought a larger force. Then she reminded herself that she was skilled in magic and had trained most of her companions herself. The dragons they rode would give them supremacy.
She steadied her nerves even as she saw that the wind was only the beginning.
A ball of flame the size of a barrel twisted and roared; it streaked across the sky, heading directly for her. She flattened herself on her dragon’s back while the fireball scorched the air where her head had been a moment before. Lifting her head, she saw that there were figures spreading out near the cave: four thin men in white robes. Each held a tall staff, and the metal devices at their tips were glowing as they fought to defend their island. Bright light flashed from a sun staff, but Zara knew it was intended to blind her and averted her eyes. Wind so fierce it was visible flew from a silver spiral, striking one of Zara’s group and carrying him away in another gale. A warbling sound split the air, slamming Zara’s teeth together, while more fireballs flew in a volley at another sorcerer on her left.
But with the dragons so high in the sky, the range was difficult for the defenders, and now that Zara and her sorcerers were alerted it was becoming easier to evade their magic. Zara’s dragon dodged another fireball and then she scowled.
To me! She projected the order through the copper chains, and it was relayed to the rest of the group through the bond between dragons. She then instructed her mount to fly as fast as it could go, directly at the men on the ground.
Wings tucked in. The dragon streamlined its body until it was as sleek and slender as a fish. Zara dived.
The drop made her stomach lurch. But at the same time, Zara pointed her staff and summoned all of her rage and hatred. Power surged in her mind and flowed into the iron claw, which glowed like the fires of the underworld. Leaning forward on the dragon, hugging its neck to her chest, she pointed her staff and launched salvo after salvo of fireballs at one of the four men below.
In her peripheral vision, she saw her six other sorcerers follow suit, plummeting at the island. Fire bathed the landscape. One of the defenders tried to raise a shiel
d of air before throwing himself sideways to escape two consecutive fireballs. Zara snarled as he escaped the barrage. One of her companions sent a burning sphere into the middle of another defender’s chest and he burst into flame; soon he was charred to death. Weaving to present a difficult target, the skinny magus wielding fire attempted his own counterattack, but then a dragon grabbed him in its claws and carried him screaming into the sky before releasing him from a devastating height onto the hard rock.
Zara narrowed her gaze at the man with the resonance staff. Like the others, he was completely bald, with sunken cheeks and a skeletal frame. Legs apart, he stood his ground. He pointed his staff at her and the copper fork at the top flared. Piercing sound struck Zara’s eardrums, filling her head with agony. She screamed and began to lose focus on her power. Her ability to summon a fireball vanished, yet still her dragon swooped down, directly at her opponent. Zara flipped her staff to bring the sharpened metal spike at the bottom to bear. The distance narrowed to fifty paces, then twenty. The pain was excruciating. Her head felt as if it would explode. She could take it no longer . . .
She thrust the staff like a spear, stabbing into her opponent’s throat. Immediately the sound that had been shattering her senses vanished. As Zara flew up into the sky again and gazed down, the magus sank to his knees. He clasped both hands around the wound in his throat and then toppled to the side.
Her heart racing, Zara searched frantically and instructed her dragon to hover. She had seen three of the defenders killed, but where was the fourth? Finally she saw another body; the magus with the wind staff was scorched and lying in a crumpled heap.
The isle of Athos was still and silent. Zara looked at the mouth of the nearby cave, but saw no sign of movement.
Take me down, she instructed her dragon.
Clawed limbs settled to the stone, and Zara slipped from the creature’s leathery back. Her fellow sorcerers landed shortly after, exchanging shaky glances.
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