The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six)

by Rathbone, Brian

  This time, when Catrin tried to stand, she succeeded. Though far from steady on her feet, Catrin made her way to where Mikala lay. Arakhan shook her then slapped her face.

  "Stop," Catrin said.

  Arakhan looked up, his hand poised to strike her again and tears streaming down his cheeks.

  "She'll be fine. What she needs is rest and quiet. And when she wakes up, she'll have a terrible headache. Give her cool water and a bit of humrus root."

  His face flushed, Arakhan laid Mikala's head gently back to the sand with exaggerated care. "How do you know this?" Arakhan asked, doing his best to be polite.

  Catrin understood his anxiety. "I saw what happened," she said. "That is how it started for me, I think. It looked different from a distance, but it felt much the same."

  Arakhan looked startled at first, but then a look of pride came to his face and his chest stuck out a bit farther. "Thank you, most honored Herald of Istra."

  Catrin accepted the title and did not try to dissuade him. In this instance, the title served her well. It would not hurt Mikala if she was seen to be tied to Catrin in some way, and now that was done in more than one way.

  Nearby, Kyrien rested. Catrin walked to his side and laid a hand on his shoulder. She did not lend him energy since she had nothing she could safely give at that moment, but she did send her love, respect, and friendship into the bond they shared. It was a small thing, but it helped to get him to sleep, and rest was what he needed most at that moment.

  At Catrin's request, a tent was erected next to Kyrien, and Catrin slept by his side, knowing the Arghast would watch over her.

  * * *

  Crouched behind a bush, Brother Vaughn watched a pack of demons move through the valley. It appeared that most of the enemy forces had retreated to their ships and fled, but these roving packs were proof that the dangers of the black army remained on the Godfist. He was no match for even one of these creatures, and if he were spotted by one of these packs, he would almost surely be lost. So many things had happened, and now he had so few choices, and he did not like any of them.

  He could try to make for the main entrance of Dragonhold, where the primary assault had been, and he already saw that it would be a mistake. Too many of the demons had decided not to make the return trip. Perhaps it was by design, but at that moment, the cause did not matter. The back entrance of Dragonhold was guarded by the God's Eye, and Dragonhold was another place he would likely encounter the demons. The only other option he considered was to go south, over Edling's Wall and into Harborton, but he knew there would be little help to be found. Even if he could get some of the people behind him, he would need the council's approval to take a force of any size north of the Wall. He'd met Master Edling on a couple of occasions, and the man did not make a very good impression. A bit of study on the history of the man's rule, and Brother Vaughn had more than enough information to know that Edling would never cooperate unless there was a way for him to gain power as a result. His price would be too high.

  The demons sniffed the air and scanned the tree line, and Brother Vaughn froze. The luxury of time was no longer his. For tense moments, he stood, his heart beating fast, waiting until the demons finally turned and continued south. Even standing still, he risked being discovered. The biggest concern he had was crossing open ground. The Pinook Valley was wider and had more open grasslands than the Chinawpa Valley. He would still have to figure out how to get across the God's Eye and back to the kitchens, but the back entrance appeared to be a far more likely route to salvation. It seemed an impossible task at first, but he kept moving, never losing hold of the hope that there was a chance he would make it, a chance that Mirta would be waiting for him, unharmed and well. Those were the thoughts that kept him moving when the larger part of him just wanted to hide.

  Signs of the demons were everywhere. Grasses and roots lay crushed against the ground. Tree trunks marked with their claws made it look as if there were hundreds of them wandering around. It made the hair on his neck stand, and he couldn't help but wonder if any of the giants remained on the Godfist. He very much regretted having had that thought, especially when he heard a thump that sounded like muted thunder then another and another. Farther south in the valley, farther than Brother Vaughn would have guessed based on how loud the steps were, a giant walked. That just confirmed how monstrous these creatures were and that they were wandering loose on the Godfist. This one still had chains hanging from the collar around its throat, each one sheared off at a different length. When the beast stood and turned suddenly, the chains whipped through the air and cut through the treetops, sending them tumbling to the valley floor. Brother Vaughn felt as if he'd been transported to another, far more frightening world. He had lived here for years and had hiked in these forests dozens of times, but now these woods were filled with monsters, and his mind was having difficulty reconciling that fact. So many of the things he saw that normally would have caught his interest or sparked his imagination now only reminded him of how everything had changed and that he was not safe.

  After seeing Trinda and Strom and Durin at the top of the mountain, Brother Vaughn had begun to question his mental health, and then he'd seen Catrin riding Kyrien with a saddle that shone like the comets above. Now he was trying to figure out how to climb over a dead feral dragon. Part of him wasn't certain the dragon was really dead, and he was just waiting for it to turn and snap him up in its jaws. It would have been easiest to climb over the beast’s head, but the thought of seeing those eyes open while he was on top of its head drove him to the more difficult task of climbing over the shoulders since the rest of the body was surrounded by thick brush.

  Pausing a moment to say a prayer, he prepared for the arduous climb, hoping there was nothing waiting for him on the other side. When he reached the top, he had a commanding view of the rear entrance to Dragonhold. It appeared to be completely deserted. Brother Vaughn watched for some time just to be certain there was no one about, waiting in ambush. After a few deep breaths and another prayer, Brother Vaughn rushed away from the dead dragon and covered the mostly open ground between himself and the entrance. Birds flew before him, flushed from the bushes by his determined stride. He did not run, but he did not dally either. A nearby tree's branches rattled, and Brother Vaughn stepped as quickly as he could up to the wooden stairs, which he took two at a time. When he reached the lake shore, Brother Vaughn was panting and trembling, feeling more terrified than ever. Never before had he felt so alone and so afraid he would die alone. The thoughts shamed him, but he accepted them. They were a part of him. The mantra was comforting. He had almost returned his breathing to normal when the waters before him parted and a large, dark shape moved straight toward him.

  * * *

  Acrid smoke filled the air within the valley, and Catrin wanted to retreat from it. There was guilt in that smoke. No matter how much she felt justified in her fury, she hated to kill other creatures, especially in large numbers. Most of the dragons had been pulled from the valley and were being burned in a single, massive pyre. There were three that were too large to be moved from where they had died, and they were burned in place. In the end, all that was left were scales, teeth, and claws, all of which were highly prized, and a number of scuffles had already broken out. The Arghast were a fiery people, and these were treasures both practical and sacred.

  Despite all the work it had taken to burn the dragons, the Arghast had somehow found enough talent and manpower to create a very close replica of Catrin's saddle, minus the dragon ore of course. The original and the replica sat atop mounds of straw bound with rope, and neither was empty for very long. All the Arghast wanted their turn in the saddle while they had the chance, and Catrin was about to take that chance away from some of them. She didn't have time to stay and help the Arghast; she had to go after Sinjin. Kyrien had already told her that he was ready to fly. There was no more time to waste.

  Mikala and Arakhan oversaw the projects together, and it was clear that the e
vents had elevated the two to new positions of power. Catrin felt she'd chosen well. Kyrien seemed to think so, but there was always doubt. Catrin had no desire to ruin people's lives by forcing power on them that they weren't prepared for and didn't know how to properly use. That was a fate she understood more than any other.

  "Thank you, mighty tribes of Arghast," Catrin said when everyone stopped to watch her approach. "You have once again proven to be strong, capable, and wise. I wish I could stay longer, but I must go after the people who took my son." A wave of anxiety rolled over the crowd and was reflected back at Catrin, who felt overwhelmed by it but suppressed the feelings. "Would you please help me put the saddle back on Kyrien?"

  It came as little shock that the Arghast were honored to have the opportunity to saddle a dragon. This was as close as Catrin had ever come to fulfilling the prophecy that said she would teach the Arghast to fly dragons. She doubted very much she would ever get any further toward really teaching them to fly. It was a burden she carried, and it had never felt heavier.

  Mikala and Arakhan nominated people, and there was a sense of approval tinged with disappointment from those who had not been selected. Soon, though, there was no time for hard feelings as the saddle was on the move. Like people cheering at the Summer Games or the Spring Challenges, fathers cheered their sons, and mothers cheered their daughters, shouting advice from what the tribes collectively determined was a respectful distance. For a group who often fought among themselves, Catrin was amazed at how well the tribes worked when their purpose was united.

  Kyrien watched those saddling him with a critical eye, and Catrin thought he might be laying it on a bit thick for the Arghast, but she also knew that they would take to it like water from the sky, as the old Arghast saying went. When the saddle had been secured to his approval, Kyrien bowed his head to those who had been so honored.

  No one seemed to know exactly what to do, except get out of Catrin's way as she walked to Kyrien. Before she mounted, Catrin turned and said, "Thank you again, my friends, noble tribes of Arghast. You are truly worthy allies. I'll never forget those who've given their lives to protect mine. I'll never forget Irvil of the Sun clan--"

  A cheer went up from a group of those gathered, though most remained silent.

  "I'll never forget Vertook of the Viper clan--"

  Another cheer rose from a different group.

  "And I'll never forget Mika, whose clan I do not know, for he came to me with no pretense and no desire to do anything but serve his people."

  The entire valley erupted in cheers.

  Catrin mounted. Those who had lifted the saddle into place scrambled up and secured her with speed and skill. The Arghast now knew a great deal more about her saddle than she did. Perhaps she really had taught them something after all.

  "I'll never forget Halmsa of the Wind clan," Catrin said. "May he find his way home soon."

  Unlike her previous declarations, this brought no cheer from the assembled, and Catrin wondered if perhaps the Wind clan was not represented. Their clan leader had, after all, been within Dragonhold the last time Catrin had seen him. Regardless of the cause, Catrin decided she'd said enough. Kyrien bowed his head to the Arghast one last time then leaped into the air. With only a few flaps of his wings, he and Catrin were skimming across the water. As they flew, Catrin couldn't help but wonder what the place would look like the next time she came here, given how much her first visit to this valley had altered it. Even when she had struck the well, she could not have imagined just how much it would change. Her gut told her that this visit might have an even greater impact, yet she couldn't say why.

  The Arghast raised cries of encouragement when Kyrien gained speed and altitude and turned to enter the narrow valley mouth sideways, hugging the terrain and trying his best to make certain there was enough clearance to protect Catrin. It was a nearly impossible task, and Catrin had to duck to avoid a number of jutting rock formations that approached at unbelievable speed.

  As soon as they were free of the mountains, the desert before them was mostly unremarkable, save the fires. Kyrien avoided the pyres and seemed to not want to look at the bodies of the ferals being burned. Catrin couldn't blame him. The carnage was horrific. Part of her felt great joy at the death of the evil creatures, but another part of her hated to see so much death. The best she could do was to remind herself that these creatures were the reason Sinjin was gone. So many friends and countrymen had given their lives to protect her from the attacks of these monsters. Only when she was able to think of them as monsters could she reconcile her heart and her actions. Only then did the world make any sense.

  Kyrien took them higher, and Catrin scanned the skies, not knowing if any ferals remained. The battle in the valley was blurred in her memory, and she couldn't remember if any of the dragons escaped. She also considered the possibility that some of the dragons may have remained in the Pinook and Chinawpa Valleys to keep watch on Dragonhold and what remained of Harborton. That thought pained Catrin as well. Though her countrymen in the south had long since been aligned with Master Edling, who was among Catrin's greatest adversaries, she hated that so much of their history was being lost. The academy where she had studied had been beautifully constructed and had contained the accumulated wisdom of her forefathers. The last time she had seen the academy, it was aflame and being overrun by demons. This was something she would never have wished for, something she had never desired. Even if a part of her had been angry and had felt scorned and abandoned by those who had once been her friends, she would never have wished them harm.

  Catrin's guts tightened when the mountains materialized from the shimmering haze before her. Visions of what might await her within Dragonhold haunted her. Guilt stabbed at her, and tears filled her eyes. She had asked these people to trust her, to forward her goals, to move underground, inside of a mountain range. And when danger had approached and laid siege to the hold, Catrin and Kyrien had abandoned them. Kyrien's shame mixed with her own, and the two flew with heavy hearts. Despite the fact that they had left only in an effort to save both their species from extinction, that didn't seem to matter now that she had to return and face the consequences of her decision. She knew already that the dark forces had taken her son, and she would soon be going after him. She also knew her people had suffered losses during this conflict, and those losses were her responsibility. Still, she didn't know what she was going to do about any of it. Part of her wanted to turn around and fly away from all of this, but it was a small part, and they continued on a direct course for Dragonhold.

  Chapter 6

  Few things are respected as much as an indomitable spirit.

  --The Pauper King

  * * *

  Dark water rippled and parted even as Brother Vaughn took several steps backward, trying to escape whatever death emerged from the water. With primal fear driving his heels, he spun around to flee. As his head turned, though, he caught one last glimpse of the form in the water. It took him four more steps before he could convince his body to stop running. He had recognized the man coming out of the water. When Brother Vaughn turned back around, there he stood, with a piece of hollow reed in his hand.

  "I'm sorry," Halmsa of the Wind clan said. "You must be ready to hide. They come back."

  Brother Vaughn did not need to ask who "they" were. He looked around but saw no signs of any more reeds, and he bowed his head in appreciation when Halmsa snapped his reed in half and handed a piece to Brother Vaughn. It was a gesture that Brother Vaughn knew could save his life or endanger them both. Without the additional length, Halmsa would have to stay closer to the surface to breathe, and that would make him easier to spot in the water. Brother Vaughn felt a lump in his throat when he understood the level of sacrifice this man had just made on his behalf. "Thank you," he said.

  Halmsa just held a finger up to his lips and looked about. Then he pointed to the water and made a swimming motion with his hands. Brother Vaughn shook his head. He was not an unaccompl
ished swimmer, but the entrance to the hold proper was farther than he thought he could swim. Part of him admitted that the thought of what might be in that water frightened him. He'd already seen the enormous feral dragon that had been constructed at the bottom of this lake. Who knew what other dark and perhaps living things lurked beneath the deceivingly placid surface?

  The sound of approaching footfalls stifled any argument that Brother Vaughn might have raised. The demons had returned for him, and now there was nowhere else for him to hide. The only tool he had at his disposal was a piece of reed, and it seemed a slim defense against creatures that he knew were amphibious and could probably see just fine under water. This ruse would conceal them only if the demons remained on the shore and did not enter the water. This seemed unlikely to Brother Vaughn. Why else would they come back in here but to cross over to the main keep? The barges were drifting in the middle of the lake, and there would be no other way to get there than to swim. That meant that they would be caught in the water with amphibious creatures that could probably fight better in water than on land. That thought almost kept Brother Vaughn standing where he was, but Halmsa pulled him into the water.

  Fear threatened to paralyze Brother Vaughn as the water closed in around him. He had never tried to breathe from under water before, and he accidentally inhaled through his nose when only his mouth was closed around the reed. Doing his best not to panic, he took in slow, purposeful breaths through his mouth while holding his nose closed with his other hand. At first, he did all of this with his eyes squeezed shut. Then slowly and deliberately, he opened his eyes and could see multiple large, inhuman forms silhouetted against the light of the cavern entrance.