by V. Lakshman
These folk represented volunteers to gain intelligence about their enemy, and hopefully effect a rescue of their missing brothers and sisters, should the opportunity present itself. Who knew how many times a party like this had tried to breach Dawnlight, found themselves stranded, unable to phase through the mountain as corridors rearranged themselves around them?
Dazra held up his hands for silence. To his left stood Tarin, and to his right, Gedeon and the hulking Naph. When everyone had quieted, he began, “We attempt the mountain again. This time, we have some advantages.”
He took a measured gaze across those assembled and continued, “You’ve noted the two halflings who have joined us as guests. They captured one of the accursed blacknights and from him have extracted information and a detailed map of the interior of Dawnlight.”
He held out a hand and a small version of Dawnlight, transparent with tunnels demarcating its interior, sparkled into being in the air above his palm, slowly rotating in place. “We’ll use this to find our brothers and sisters.”
One man raised a hand and said, “How do we stop the mountain from simply reconfiguring itself? Without our entats we can’t phase.”
“The mountain seems to recognize those who are part of its—” Dazra hesitated, looking at Tarin and finished, “—family. We have a way of disguising ourselves as such, but it carries risks.”
Dazra’s wife stepped forward and said, “I can give us a marker I extracted from the prisoner. It will make the mountain feel we are one with them, but that may also give Sovereign the ability to track you, or worse.”
Silence greeted that declaration, and to Dragor it seemed that everyone understood what she meant by “worse.” Rather than belabor that point, Tarin went on.
“To minimize the risk, only those who agree to accept the marker will be allowed on this mission.”
Gedeon then moved forward and said, “We’ve asked a lot from you, so despite that one necessity, this mission is still voluntary. If you want to go home, do so now with no blemish on your service. Those who stay will be organized into teams and given the marker, each with an objective. Our goal is to explore the mountain and locate our people. Once that’s done, you leave.”
“What about getting them out?” asked a woman holding a light crossbow.
“Your entats will record the location from where you phase out. Your job is to find and report back to our Dawnlight with your marker intact. It is vital you do not raise an alarm, or the mountain will reconfigure itself and our information may be useless.
“Once you return to our Dawnlight, our people will be able to outfit an appropriate rescue team to send back. Remember you’re wagering more than your own life, so no heroics.”
The group looked at one another, some murmurs could be heard as each considered whether to go on the mission or return home. For the most part, Dragor thought he saw nods and indications of assent.
After allowing some discussion amongst his people, Dazra called for a vote. In the end, a third decided to go back, disappearing in a flash of white. Because Dragor was standing next to Jesyn, he could see them greet loved ones and move off like phantasms through invisible tunnels. No one who stayed seemed angry, and Dragor caught in bits of conversations that some of those who had chosen to leave had been here for a very long time, and had loved ones who also needed their help and support.
Of the twenty who stayed, all had agreed to be given the marker, despite Gedeon and Dazra’s worries. It would let them phase through rock, making their search of the mountain go much more quickly, and allowing them to use their entats to escape.
When Tarin came to Jesyn, she said, “May I see your palm?”
Jesyn nodded, holding out her hand, evidently more curious than afraid. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m giving you a way out, if things go wrong.” Tarin smiled, looking at Dragor for his permission.
At his nod, the healer touched Jesyn’s palm, and a vine of black ink made its way from there to her wrist, becoming a small star-shaped mark. “Touch this and hold it, and you will be transported to our home in phase. It’s not Edyn, but at least you’ll be amongst friends rather than in Sovereign’s power.”
Just as Tarin finished, a voice rang out in the clearing, simple yet direct: “Stay thy hand! I will choose.”
The air shimmered and from that wavering stepped forth a girl dressed in black armor. What looked to be a black cape fell across her back, but when she stepped further into view, that cape revealed itself to be two black wings folded neatly in place on her back.
The girl looked at the group and continued, “I shall choose who goes forth, and who remains. In return, I shall aid thee in thy quest.”
A collective gasp ran through the assembled dwarves, who quickly went to their knees before the girl, their heads bowed in reverence.
Finally Dazra, arms outstretched to either side, looked up from under his brows and said, “Your name, goddess Sai, so that we may address you properly?”
The girl smiled, revealing the fanged teeth so incongruous to her youthful appearance. She seemed quite pleased at Dazra’s politeness.
“Thou may call me Sai’ken, builder. I welcome thee, and call upon thy fealty to the First Laws since Sovereign’s Fall.”
Dazra bowed his head again. “Of course, we still faithfully serve.” He looked up carefully and added, “Is it service to which you call us again?”
Sai’ken’s gold-flecked eyes ran across the kneeling forms, sweeping across Dragor and finally coming to rest on Jesyn, who shrank back at the dragon’s scrutiny.
One eyebrow arched delicately, as she said, “I hath searched for thee for some time. Thy lore father bade me assist in recovering Armun Dreys.”
“Then why did you search? He knows where we are,” demanded Dragor, suspicious of the lost connection with the lore father. Giridian had been trying to tell him about a dragon, no doubt this one, but had the message been a warning? He reached out, trying to establish a link, only to find himself still unable to pierce the area surrounding them, as if they were wrapped in that same fog that blocked his ability to communicate earlier in the tent with the assassin. Perhaps this was the cause of their isolation: a dragon wishing to keep herself hidden. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind that Sai’ken tilted her head and a sudden wash of fear threatened to overwhelm him. He gasped, falling to his knees with one arm raised.
The girl moved forward and said, “Had I appeared to thee with august splendor, perhaps thou wouldst be more humble, more contrite. Mine father says I am too caring and shouldst kill one forthwith so mine word carries more weight, or at least inspires silence.”
She knelt carefully and said to the almost prostrate Dragor, “I prefer a gentler way, and it seems penitence is not beneath thee, o’ great adept and master of the Way.” She raised her eyes to Jesyn’s, but Dragor’s voice came from below.
“Great,” he gasped. “You can win with dragonfear . . . but why can’t I speak with our lore father?”
Sai’ken smiled and said, “And what dost thou think Sovereign harks for, or how I found thee? Thy mental call is a goat bleating in the dark, a caterwauling thou cannot disguise. Only mine own aegis surrounding thee and thine has delayed his hand, yet even I cannot prevail. I judge it be only a short time ’ere this area is overrun.”
At that the dwarves grabbed their weapons, alert to their immediate surroundings. Nothing stirred the night.
As their nerves settled, she said, “If thou hearest mine voice within thy mind, thou whilst leave for thy home.” It was not a request.
Dragor slowly stood and said, “What makes you think you can just tell us who to take or not?” If murder could be delivered by eyesight, Dragor knew he would have been struck dead by the looks he got from Dazra, Gedeon, and a host of other dwarves who were silent only because they still paid Sai’ken obeisance.
Jesyn put a hand on his arm, trying to calm him, but he ignored it. His willingness to antagonize the dra
gon clearly did not sit well with any of the assembled, but he didn’t care. He understood her desire to be diplomatic, but Themun had always cautioned to deal with dragons directly. They were predators and had no patience for loquaciousness. Still, confronting a dragon was something that made his heart skip many beats, even one as young as this Sai’ken appeared to be.
If the dragon was upset by Dragor’s directness, it didn’t show. Sai’ken looked unperturbed, scanning the gathered folk. Then she pointed to one dwarf and said, “He worries if thine quest will end in his death.” She looked at another and said, “She worries for her mate back home.” Sai’ken identified yet another and said, “She hath decided to take as many lives as she can, ’ere taking her own.”
“You can read their minds?” he inquired.
“I read their hearts,” the dragon child said. She looked Dragor as if searching his soul, then asked, “Shall I voice thine own brave heart’s mettle, Adept of the Way?”
“Leave him alone,” Jesyn said, stepping forward.
Sai’ken looked at Jesyn, then back at the adept. Dragor had managed to recover almost fully as the dragonfear ebbed. Sai’ken blinked once, a clear lens nictitating over her eyes. “I do not judge thee, sister. Be at peace with thyself,” she said.
The dragon then addressed Dragor, saying, “If we infiltrate Sovereign’s demesne with twenty or more builders, chance at a subtle hand will be lost. Dost I need to lecture thee on strategy, most glorious adept?”
There was silence, then, just as quickly, flashes from the clearing as almost the entire group of dwarves disappeared. The dragon looked around and smiled. “Rise and join me, brothers and sisters. We will achieve great things ere this day drinks its last of Helios’ rays.”
When everyone had assembled, the group had been whittled down to eight: Dazra, Gedeon, and Tarin were joined by the two adepts and Sai’ken. Halp and the giant axer Naph rounded out their small party.
Jesyn stepped forward and said, “You show yourself now and offer your assistance, culling our ranks to less than a fourth of our full strength. You whittle us down as you demand our fealty and lull us with promises of great things to come. How do we know you’re not in league with Sovereign?”
Sai’ken’s face became serious as she put her hands on Jesyn’s shoulders and looked up to meet Jesyn’s eyes. Her diminutive stature and youthful visage belied the fact that she was a true dragon, probably much older than anyone here, despite having a girl’s face.
“I grant thee mercy because of thy ignorance, but doth not tempt me further. We Sais art true guardians of Edyn, and wouldst stand against any who threaten it, yea, if such a stand even meant our own lives.”
Dazra moved forward and said, “No offense was meant, goddess. Please, let us prepare as you wish. We gladly follow, just as we have whenever called to duty.”
The dragon looked at him, then nodded. Although she didn’t look directly at Jesyn, her next words seemed in answer to the young adept’s questions.
“Five will be hard to track within the mountain, even with the fire of the adepts showing. The healer will proceed with the marking. It will hide thee for a time.”
“What about you?” Dragor asked.
“I am the Way, mortal. Fear not,” replied the dragon.
Tarin made her way around the assembled, touching each with the tip of her finger. As she did so, each person’s entats reconfigured themselves, taking on a more angular look made up of lines and edges rather than whorls.
“Don’t forget me,” Jesyn said, to Dragor’s surprise. When he looked at her she shrugged and said, “I’ll take any advantage I can. You should do the same.”
It had never occurred to Dragor that he could be given the marker, and he looked at Tarin, the question plain on his face.
She shrugged. “Dazra still doesn’t trust you with an entat of your own, so I’ve no idea what it will do.” She looked at him and smiled. “At worst it kills you.”
He pulled back his sleeve but Sai’ken said, “Do not confer the marker upon him.”
The order was met with surprised stares from more than one of the assembled.
“Adept, thou will journey deep into the mountain with the ones named Dazra, Gedeon, and Naph,” Sai’ken continued. “Let havoc ride with thee like a summer storm.” She looked at Jesyn and said, “The rest will come with me.”
“Bait.” Dragor looked at the dragon, daring her to refute it. She did not.
Instead, she turned to Dazra and said, “I need thy team to stay alive as long as possible. The adept will draw Sovereign’s forces like moths to a flame. Thou must keep him alive and lead our enemies away. I will take the healer and her companions.”
Turning her attention back to Jesyn, the dragon said, “I will help thee find Armun, whom I shared pilgrimage with many years ago. He was a noble man.”
Dragor’s eyes widened. “You’re Rai’stahn’s daughter!” The memory of the vision Giridian had shared of a young Themun now became clear, and he couldn’t believe he missed the obvious connection.
The dragon girl gave a small curtsy, an action that seemed entirely too innocent and girlish given this creature’s age and power. It was as if Sai’ken enjoyed the discomfort she created when she played the part.
“Armun journeyed into the mountain and returned that day without harm,” she said. “As the years moved on, his time within the mountain grew longer and longer. One day, he did not return. Mine father tried to find him, to no avail.”
“What, then, is your mission? What has the Conclave asked you to do?” asked Dragor.
“Sovereign cannot be stopped without understanding the Phoenix Stone,” Sai’ken said. “The man who knew this lore best was Armun.”
She waited, but Dragor said nothing. The Sai looked at Dazra and said, “Prepare your men as I command.”
Dazra bowed once. “Of course, goddess.”
A slow smile drew Sai’ken’s lips back, her gold-flecked eyes finally coming to rest on Dragor’s own. “How long canst thou stay alive, Adept?”
Dragor didn’t buy her simple explanation so long as confirming it with the lore father was off the table. Dragons did not consort with people unless the need was dire. Whatever was afoot, it likely would not end well for them, and he hoped Jesyn could see the danger they were all in. Still, he was not without his own resources. He mentally reviewed the inspiration the dwarven assassin had given him, making sure he’d not forgotten anything crucial. It would still work. In fact, he admitted, with the dragon here it might work even better.
He met Sai’ken’s gaze with a stare as unblinking as her own and said, “Long enough to make a difference.”
Decisions
When climbing a mountain,
hope, fear, strength, and stamina,
lie between you, the summit, and ruin.
Though each will take their turn,
take care when fear leads.
- Keren Dahl, Shornhelm Survivor’s Guide
I
nsanity!” cursed Kisan. “The boy will be the death of us all.”
Silbane looked at the younger master, his mind working furiously on everything he’d learned. Though Sonya had said much the same thing; yet the man most able to comment on Lilyth’s claims had remained strangely silent. Thoth stood to one side, his expression guarded, holding himself apart from the group.
Silbane turned to the enigmatic keeper. “Giridian vouched for your support. You’ve opposed Lilyth for centuries. Why this sudden alliance?”
“Do you know the story of the siege of Tarsus?” Thoth replied.
Silbane nodded. “The great bull statue hid soldiers within. While the city slept, they emerged from the bull’s belly and opened the gates. Slaughter befell Tarsus that night.”
Thoth replied, “Then you see that Arek is the Bull of Tarsus.”
“Then why in the name of all the gods did you bring him here?” asked Silbane, looking directly at Thoth. “It seems foolhardy.”
For his
part, Thoth didn’t answer. He merely stared back at Silbane, his expression guarded and neutral.
“I will concede one thing,” Kisan said darkly. “Foolish or not, she’s cleverly maneuvered us right where she wants us. Of our own free will, we choose not to leave Arcadia: Arek has been enticed to rescue a father he doesn’t know, a man who doesn’t deserve it.” She paused before adding, “Even I’ve been given good reason to follow: a chance to serve vengeance upon the one who caused my family’s slaughter.” She moved away, and to Silbane the white-knuckled grip of her hands was a clear indication of the conflict within.
“What do we do?” Silbane asked, looking at Thoth.
The keeper blew out a breath and said, “It is Arek’s choice.”
“We could grab him and Yetteje and go through the portal,” Kisan answered matter-of-factly, pointedly ignoring what Thoth had just said.
Thoth shook his head and addressed Silbane. “It is doubtful even you could overpower him, given his dark gift. As soon as he realizes this, the corruption will begin. Power will give his voice strength and you’ll not be able to control him. It is a wonder he listens to anyone at all.”
“More reason to act now,” countered Kisan.
“If I may offer something?” Brianna had moved up and now interjected in a soft voice, “As I said, not much makes sense to me, but there’s something I do know.”
At Silbane’s encouragement she continued, “Arek is dangerous, but he doesn’t mean anyone harm. He could have killed me, but didn’t, even though he’s been hunted by others like me. From what I understand, they were trying to kill him but he still let me live. He didn’t have to do that.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” replied Silbane.
Kisan said, “And what if the dark thing Thoth is talking about starts to affect his mind?”
Brianna tugged on her collar, adjusting it, and said, “I may be able to help him. I’m a dokter.”
Kisan moved forward at the sound of the dwarven word, one she evidently recognized from her assimilation of the assassin’s memories. At Silbane’s look she offered, “A kind of dwarven healer, highly skilled.”