“Take her through.”
Bridgett sighed with relief as the guard hurried off into the trees. Velien held up his wand and focused on casting the spell, then quickly ushered her under the archway. As she stepped out into the clearing beyond the gate, she was once again overwhelmed by emotion. Ashir was waiting for her on the open grass. Dozens of elven archers surrounded the dragon with arrows trained on the elegant creature. Bridgett rushed over, calling out to them to put down their weapons. The elves held their positions, never giving the slightest impression of hearing her objections. She ran toward Ashir but stopped suddenly when one of the elves turned his weapon on her instead.
“Stop.” His tone was quiet but stern, leaving no room for argument. Bridgett froze, desperate to reach Ashir and protect him from the misplaced anger of the elves, yet having no doubt that if the elves judged her to be a threat they would shoot her. She could clearly feel Ashir’s confusion and fear radiating toward her. He would not leave her, but he could not understand why the elves were threatening him. His eyes darted nervously among the crowd of archers.
“This dragon is no threat to you. If it is true that a dragon attacked an elven city, I assure you this dragon had no part in the offense. You must let him go.”
“It cannot be a coincidence that as the Mother burns from dragon’s fire, a dragon sits at our gate. He, and any dragon who comes to burn our trees, will die before we let him cast his fierce breath toward our door.”
“This dragon sits at your door in the hope that I will successfully prevent the devastation of the Elven Realm, not to witness it. I assure you, if you let us go we will do what we can to help eliminate any threat to the Elvenwood. Just as I sought aid in times of war from other realms, I will seek to bring aid to your forest.” Bridgett knew that it was unlikely Osric could spare any men to assist the elves, but she could try. If nothing else, she could get word through Ashir to the other dragons to discover what had caused such a misunderstanding. A dragon would never attack an elven city.
“We will not allow the dragon to take to the skies and torch our home. You have been allowed to leave, but if the dragon attempts to fly, we will release our arrows. I suggest you start walking.”
Bridgett heard his words, but her focus was on the emotions she was sensing from Ashir. His eyes had found her among the elves, and calmness had settled over him. Bridgett tried to communicate with him through her own emotions. When she was certain that he was preparing for the same escape—the only option that she could see—she looked back at the elf and the arrow he pointed at her heart. It saddened her greatly that she had failed to win the support of the elves. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she committed to her course of action. Though it would likely cause an even deeper rift between the elves and the humans, Bridgett could not leave the dragon to the mercy of scared and angry archers.
“Then I will leave, but I want you to understand that I came here with nothing but peace and alliance in mind. I, and my companion, wish the elves well. We look forward to the day when peace and trust surpass the fear and violence of these times.” Bridgett gazed at Ashir, willing him to understand her plan. He blinked slowly at her, waiting calmly for her to make her move. She nodded subtly, hoping that she was not about to get them both killed. Bridgett began to walk away from the dragon and toward the forest. When the elf was sure that she was leaving on foot, he turned his back on her and aimed his arrow at the dragon. As Bridgett slipped into the forest, she spoke the spell in a hurried whisper, appearing on Ashir’s back. Before the elves could process what they were seeing, the dragon used the same spell to travel away from the elven forest with Bridgett as she attempted to secure the straps that held her in place during flight. They appeared in sight of the ruins near Lost Lake, in a wide clearing just outside of the dense trees. Bridgett gasped in a combination of relief and horror when she appeared alive and intact, but then she saw the half-dozen arrows that pierced Ashir’s wings. In her haste to dismount and see to the wounds, Bridgett nearly fell from his back.
“I am so terribly sorry, Ashir. I never meant to endanger you.”
“Do not fret over me. To be honest, I would rather have a few holes in me than still be surrounded by so much fear and hatred. What was that all about?” Bridgett explained what little she knew as she removed the arrows and applied a salve to the wounds.
“I cannot imagine that it is true. No dragon would attack the elves’ sacred trees.” Her words betrayed her emotions of confusion and frustration, but her hands were skilled and steady as she worked.
“As much as I would like to agree with you, I must admit that it is possible.” Bridgett looked up at him in surprise. “There is more to our story than you know.”
“What do you mean?”
“When the Elders were betrayed and locked in cages, the vast majority of dragons submitted to slavery to keep their kin from harm. However, some dragons fled from the disgrace with little thought for what the consequences would be to the others. Over the years, there have been rumors of dragons still living as rogues, amassing treasure and sometimes even attacking small towns or caravans. I have not heard of such things happening in the Human Realm for a long time, but in other areas…” His words trailed off as she finished caring for his injured wings.
“Why now? Why attack a major city?”
“The dragons have reclaimed the skies. Perhaps they were reserved in consideration of the Elders, or maybe they just feel that their territory is now threatened. I cannot say what may have provoked the attack on Te’lador specifically, but I cannot deny that a dragon may be the assailant.”
“Perhaps something more sinister is to blame.” Bridgett thought of the deer she had encountered in the ruins not far from where they stood and shuddered. She shook off the terrible thoughts and redirected her mind to her next move. “Maybe I should return to Stanton. You are in no shape to fly, and I have failed to gain support for Osric from the elves.”
“The same stamina that allows us to fly lends to swift healing. If a bone were broken, I would be much worse off, but two days of rest should have me back in shape for flight. If your herbs work as well for promoting healing as they do for easing the pain, it could be even sooner.” Bridgett doubted that Ashir would feel well enough to fly by the next day, but even a delay of two days would not be much of a setback.
“Well then, I believe it is time that someone informed the irua that war is on their doorstep.” Ashir’s eyes swirled with surprise.
“You mean you want to go to the Irua Realm alone and announce an impending human invasion? That sounds like a mission likely to result in an early death.”
“Someone must tell them to prepare. If I can make them see that not all humans seek their destruction, perhaps I can convince them to join with Osric, and together we can defeat the turgent’s army. There is no other way. If I return to Stanton, I can do no more to help Osric.” Bridgett sat heavily upon the thick, damp grass. “There is no other way.”
14 – A Cave for the Ages
Osric crouched low, scouting the nearby hillside. For a while, he had been feeling that something was coming—or rather, that he, Aridis, and Orson were approaching something. Danger and importance pressed their tendrils through the Portentist gift. It was a familiar feeling.
Throughout most of his life, the Portentist ability had been his only gift, so he was more than comfortable interpreting its pull. Countless times through the years, the same confusing torrent had washed over him, simultaneously telling him to run and insisting that he must continue on. There was always danger to be found when confronting criminals in a busy market. Equally, there was a great deal of importance involved in removing the danger.
Yet keeping a wary eye for criminals was no longer his most common activity, and what he was feeling put him on edge. He was struggling to understand things that no one understood, and he was facing opposition from enemies that were far more dangerous than any he had encountered in his former position as the Vigil
e Contege. He had entered a world he had never envisioned himself in, and a simple pull of danger on his gift held his attention more readily than at any time before.
It was the fact that he was no longer only responsible for the safety of his Vigiles. No, he was beginning to understand that his responsibility had grown to a point far beyond even the lives of Stantonites. He took his new obligation very seriously.
No more would he have the luxury of giving simple commands to ensure that others were out of danger. No more could he rush off after a perceived threat, hoping to discover the truth as it revealed itself. He had to be purposeful in his ventures. He would have to coordinate tasks with others who understood simple things that were beyond him. Their birthright had simply dealt them a gift he still needed to master. He would have to put their lives in danger in order to understand.
As much as he understood the importance of using others, he vowed to protect each and every one of them. If they had to be a part of the lessons he was to learn, he was not about to let them take the brunt of it.
Never had he felt the pressure more than while walking through a strange landscape of trees and hillsides, looking for a cave with a new recruit and an elderly Obcasior. They were aware that he felt danger during the excursion, but he knew that they did not understand the pressure he felt by bringing them with him to the location.
“Orson, I believe Osric has something on his mind. Should we encourage him to speak of it or should we just continue trudging through this snow in silence?” Osric glanced back at Aridis with a mixture of amusement and annoyance, and Orson grinned at the old man’s sarcasm.
“I was trying to figure out a way to keep you both safe. I have told you we are approaching danger.”
“If a life is worth living,” said Orson, “then it is always approaching danger. I find the greatest treasures when I am in the most danger.”
Osric smiled at Orson’s simplistic view of the world. Not too long ago, he had shared this mindset. “I appreciate your way of thinking more than you may know, but I have learned to trust my gifts when they tell me to be wary. You should never underestimate any danger. It may surprise you when it bears its teeth.”
“Usually, it is my teeth that do the surprising.” Orson grinned viciously at him, showing his fangs in all their glory.
“I find it is wise to be cautious as well, Osric,” Aridis added. “But I have learned that it is impossible to avoid all dangers. So, Orson, feel free to keep those teeth of yours handy.”
“Oh, I always keep them close by. I have found so many wonderful items in dragma dens. And dragmas, let me tell you, do not like to part with the trappings of their lairs. They may not speak, but you know when they are dissatisfied with what you are doing!”
“Did you find yourself fighting off dragmas often before you joined up with Osric’s men?”
“Often enough, although I spent most of my time wandering through abandoned shacks, caves, or the occasional ruins. Not to mention the time I spent in various cities attempting to part with my wares for a fair price.” They were approaching a rocky hill, and Orson hurried ahead to the top for a better view. As Aridis and Osric caught up to him, he pointed with a claw to the northwest. “See those rocks over there? There are caves of some sort beneath the ground near there. That’s where we are headed.”
Osric gazed across the open distance between where they stood and where the white stones jutted up from the earth like crooked teeth in a mocking smile. He couldn’t see a single animal stirring before them. The area was eerie in its silence. His Portentist gift sharpened again, urging him to move quickly toward his goal even as the sense of danger increased.
“My gift is telling me that we should hurry.” Osric glanced at the other two with intensity. “We must be careful, and we shouldn’t stay here any longer than we must.” He started forward, but Aridis caught his sleeve and held him back.
“Remember what I told you about the deer? We must keep in mind that our gifts are not able to perceive everything in this world.” Aridis warned.
Osric wondered if he would be able to determine the source of the danger before it was too late. Although Aridis was right to warn him against being overconfident in his gift, Osric felt it was the best tool at his disposal for keeping his friends safe. He focused even more intently on the various signals he was receiving from his Portentist ability. He only hoped that if the danger became too imminent, he would be able to get them all away in time.
“I am confident that this danger can be sensed, at least. We need to get moving or we will find out what it is very soon.”
Running on all fours with haste, Orson led them down the hill and to the base of the next rise. He paused as he gazed at the stone with an intensity that Osric found unsettling in its familiarity; he had witnessed his father using the same gift on many occasions.
“I found the stone here.” Orson pointed down at the snow-covered rocks before him. “It was buried just a few feet under the ground, but I could see that there were hollow chambers or caves within the hill. At the time, I was out of supplies and needed to get to a town quickly, so I didn’t persist in exploring. If you think there may be more of them inside, I would be happy to pay for a much longer stay.” He began to dig, carefully moving large boulders that would have taken both Osric and Aridis to move. Sensing Orson’s urgency and fear of the coming danger, Osric pulled out his wand to help remove the massive rocks in the fastest way he could.
“Not that one,” said Orson. “The entrance will collapse if we move it. This whole area here can be moved. The entrance drifts down at a gradual slope, so don’t go above this point.” Orson coached them as they moved the obstructions as fast as their wands would allow.
After a short time, debris began to fall inward—a sure sign that they had located the elusive cave opening. Eager to gain entrance, Orson forced his bulk through the last of the rocks that barred their way, clearing a path. With a flick of his wand, light filled the path before them, and they walked a short distance to where a chamber opened up. Orson’s girth grazed the side of the cave, sending a fist-sized stone tumbling to the ground, where it broke cleanly into two halves. Osric and Aridis followed him into the open room and gazed around in awe.
“How many do you think there are?” Osric asked.
“Hundreds.” Aridis reached out a tentative hand and caressed one stone on a rock ledge along the wall.
“One less than there should be. I didn’t mean to knock that one off.” He pointed a thick claw at the broken stone at their feet.
“Do you think there are more of them in another chamber?” Aridis said, frowning at the loss of knowledge that had been contained in the broken artifact.
“I doubt it. Just look around; this is all natural wear. The shelves are just limestone deposits. This was a temporary shelter, but they must have had a lot a respect for the stones to give them this level of protection while making camp.” Osric looked at the room.
“What is this, do you suppose?” Orson motioned tentatively at something that looked a bit like a candelabra but with a wide, curved bowl on top. It had tipped over slightly, leaning against the wall, and one of the stones sat askew on top.
“It looks like the stone was sitting on it at some point.” Aridis stepped forward and righted the object, placing the stone securely on top. “Like this.”
“Welcome to the Caldereth Archives.” A face appeared above the stone. The appearance caught them each off guard, and they took a step back in shock. It appeared much the same as the diaphanous image used in wand communication, but it wavered from side to side. The voice’s accent was strangely familiar, but Osric could not decide where he had heard it before.
“You have reached your Sun Year, and I would like to personally welcome you to your future as a fully grown caldereth. Some of you may one day learn the secrets used to create one of our heralded stones, but you have much to learn before that comes to pass.”
“Do you suppose this was intended f
or children?” Aridis inquired.
“I’m not sure, but there are an awful lot of stones here.” Osric motioned around them.
“For those of you who do not share the Obcasient gift, you will not be able to add to the archives by creating new stones, but there are many wonderful things we can still teach you. Caldereth experts in all facets of magic were invited to share their knowledge with you, and you will be learning from the finest minds we have to offer.
“These archives have been created over hundreds of years, and will be there to guide you as you explore everything from the creation of our race to the current events of your time. Each stone will provide you with critical knowledge of various topics, from mathematics to metaphysics, and enrich you with valuable insight into even the most complex areas of magic. As you study and grow within your own abilities, you will learn how you can contribute to the caldereth society as a whole. It is always important to remember that what is best for the community is what is good at its core. We must always strive to protect our society, and you will soon be fulfilling your role in the preservation of our ways. Prepare yourselves for the coming enlightenment.”
“They used the stones to teach,” Aridis exclaimed.
“Maybe that stone I sold you is worth more than I thought,” Orson said excitedly.
“Indeed,” Osric replied.
“Over many years, you will conduct an in-depth study of the historical archives contained within the stones. As you progress through the program, your mentors will often be testing your integration of the knowledge into your thought process. Again, I would like to congratulate you on coming of age. I wish you luck on your studies. Please inform your mentor that you are now ready for the first lesson.” The image then faded.
The Well of Strands (Osric's Wand, Book Three) Page 17