‘It is Old Aleuthean. As you know, our language has changed over the years, but I believe it says: “The dragons are fierce.” That is the first line.’
‘And the next?’
‘“The Arch of Nisos brings doom upon the world.”’
He turned to her. ‘Dragons?’
‘Look around you.’
He spun round; there was nothing to see except the cages. He counted twelve of them, shrouded in darkness. Zara walked forward, bringing the light with her, and then he realized.
Some of the cages had occupants.
He strode to the nearest and stared inside, trying to understand what it was he was seeing. Zara followed him and threw the bolt, the metal creaking as she opened the cage. As Palemon entered, Zara’s fingers danced around the staff and the light grew brighter.
Approaching the thing that filled the cage, Palemon finally stopped in his tracks. He swallowed.
He was looking at the skeleton of a massive beast. An iron collar was fastened around its neck, just behind the immense, wedge-shaped skull. The skull was resting on the ground, with empty eye sockets, each able to accommodate a man’s head, and teeth yellowed with age. The curved spine was ridged like the trunk of a palm tree and led to wings made of countless delicate bones. A curled tail terminated in a diamond-shaped spike. Long claws at the end of its forelimbs looked sharp enough to decapitate a man with a single blow.
‘It’s a . . .’
‘A dragon,’ Zara said. ‘Look.’
She touched the end of her staff to the skull, and he now saw a large hole punched through the thick bone behind one of the eye sockets. ‘It was killed. They are all like this. Half of these cages contain a skeleton.’
Palemon tugged at his beard, trying to make sense of it.
‘I have suspicions about the purpose of the tower, but I think I know what this place underneath was,’ Zara said. Palemon glanced up when he heard her next words. ‘It was their stables. Only the animals they kept here weren’t horses.’
‘But how . . . Why . . . ?’
‘Look.’ Zara tilted her staff to point out something hanging from a hook on the wall.
At first he thought it was simply a length of old chain, but then the sorceress used the tip of her staff to lift up one of the coils of metal links, and he saw that the reddish metal didn’t look like iron.
‘Some kind of harness?’ Palemon asked.
‘They appear to be reins,’ Zara said. ‘There are five other skeletons, and five more sets like this, six in total. The metal is copper, a little corroded but serviceable. And undeniably magical.’
Palemon looked from the reins to the dragon skeleton, still collared with a band of iron. He could only imagine how powerful the creature must have been in life.
His brow furrowed. This huge chamber was probably directly beneath the tower. The Aleutheans – it had to be them – had kept dragons here, dragons and reins.
Back in Necropolis, the magi had told fireside tales about dragons battling in the sky. Of course, they were always connected with the eldren, and their war with Palemon the First. But three hundred years had passed since the fall of Aleuthea, and history became distorted with the passage of time. Perhaps the eldren weren’t the only ones to command the sky . . .
He suddenly had a thought. Whirling, he turned to face Zara. ‘The statue. At the harbor.’
He and the sorceress exchanged glances.
Now Palemon was making strides so long he was almost running. Zara struggled to keep up with him as he left the strange stables behind, following the wide, high-ceilinged corridor – big enough for a dragon to navigate – and then sped out of the arched entrance, rushing away from the Sky Tower.
He barely noticed the city folk as he made a determined path directly for the harbor gates, where the statue of the god Helios barred entrance to the city from the sea. He was dimly aware that he had left Zara somewhere behind him as he strode along the broad avenue that led to the harbor. Finally the gates appeared ahead and he made all speed for the monument.
Panting, Palemon stared up at the statue. Both the dragon and the stern-faced man on its back were made of smooth marble, poised as if preparing to launch from the pedestal of dark granite.
He tilted his head back to examine the man’s features. He had a noble cast to his face, with long, flowing hair, but wore a fierce expression, cold and deadly – a strange face for a god. Palemon pictured him without the spiked golden crown that rested on his head, separate from the stone of the statue, something that could easily have been added later. He looked up at the statue’s hand, raised high, and mentally replaced the golden discus with a sword, a mighty blade to match the weapon he’d inherited from his namesake.
The statue was old. There was no doubt about that.
Inspecting the granite pedestal, Palemon suddenly had an idea. He knelt in front of the block, examining the stone. Grime and bird excrement covered its exterior. He climbed back to his feet, scanning the harbor until he saw some men scrubbing barnacles from a fishing boat’s hull.
He stormed over to the fishermen, soon returning to the statue with a bucket of sea water and a stiff brush. He knelt once more, and with furious movements began to work at the crust of filth, scrubbing the front of the statue block clean. At first he thought the surface of the revealed stone was smooth, but as he worked until the muscles in his arms ached, ridges became clear.
Finally, as Zara arrived, he’d scrubbed enough from the granite pedestal to reveal the name carved into it. One word was written on the statue’s base. It was the name of the king who had once ruled this city. It was the same name as the man who ruled it now.
Palemon.
Zara gasped, staring at him with wide eyes, before gazing at the statue once more. The two read the name silently, as if to say it out loud would somehow mean disrespect.
Palemon, direct descendant of the ancient king, looked up at the man’s noble features and knew he was looking at the face of his ancestor. An ancestor riding on the back of a dragon.
‘This is it,’ Palemon said, to himself as much as to Zara. ‘The answer we’ve been looking for.’ His fists were clenched at his sides; he realized his eyes were burning. ‘This is how we get the ships we need. This is how we conquer the world.’
9
Chloe was in the academy, one of the semi-intact structures that made up the complex of ruins, hidden from view on the eastern side of the island of Athos.
Wearing a plain white chiton, she sat with her legs folded under her on a floor of hard stone, opposite her teacher, Zedo. Though he rarely smiled, today his face was even graver than usual. She could sense that her training was heading to greater intensity. So far, she was managing to keep her power under her control, but as he always said, that could change at any time.
‘Now that you have listened to the wind, it is time for you to recognize it in the power inside you.’
Chloe nodded, biting her lip. Day after day, she had sat on a cliff, listening to the sea and to the howling wind that blew against the coast. She spent so long in the same place that all her whirling thoughts about her home and the people she loved melted away, until she forgot where she was and felt free from the confines of her body. Sometimes it was as if there was a wind inside her, calling to the wind blowing her hair around her face. Days became weeks, with only mealtimes to break up the routine of constant meditation. Yet despite the lack of activity, for some reason she found herself sleeping soundly every night in the small chamber she occupied alone.
Nearly two weeks of listening to the wind passed before Zedo asked her to join him in the academy.
She now promised herself she would follow Zedo’s instructions and learn to control her power. If she succeeded, she would be free to leave and return to Phalesia. If she failed, the headaches would return, and at some point she would die.
Seated across from Chloe, the magus’s gaunt face appeared ghostly in the low light. ‘First, Chloe,’ he said, staring di
rectly at her. ‘Tell me what you know of the four materia.’
‘Gold is light. Silver is wind. Copper is sound. Iron is fire.’
‘Good. What else?’
‘Gold makes people feel devotion, but also greed. Silver can bring clarity, but also confusion. Copper can charm. Iron inspires violence.’
‘Keep going.’
Chloe hesitated. ‘These feelings can be used to summon the power.’
‘No,’ the magus suddenly said sharply. He cut the air with his hand. ‘Your first teacher, if you can call him that, was the descendant of Aleuthean sorcerers. You learned the Aleuthean way, which carries more risk of feedback.’
‘Feedback?’
‘Rather than projecting fire, it is the magus who burns. Rather than creating light, the magus goes blind. The Aleuthean way is not the true path.’
He sighed when he saw her expression.
‘I can see that I am going to have to explain some things. About our magic and the time when, hundreds of years ago, Aleuthea came to dominate the world.’
He looked into her eyes as he spoke.
‘Long ago, when Athos was at the height of its power, and the only sorcerers were those who were taught on this island, a magus named Nisos completed his training and left with our blessing. But Nisos wasn’t content to be the high priest of our temple at Aleuthea. Soon after arriving at his new post, he became restless. He wanted power.’
Zedo paused to let his words sink in.
‘A skilled sorcerer, Nisos offered his services to Aleuthea’s newly crowned king. He revealed our secrets, and the king, a young man named Palemon, was duly impressed.’
Chloe frowned. Her first teacher, Vikram, had said that the Aleutheans were magic users, but he’d never said that they’d stolen the knowledge from somewhere else.
‘With the king’s support, Nisos founded his own school of magic, and trained many sorcerers, until he had far more studying his new, simpler way than the true path. Meanwhile Palemon was making stronger weapons and armor than anything seen before and training his warriors relentlessly in combat. He began to enlarge his borders, one tribe or chiefdom at a time. Every enemy he captured, warrior or civilian, was enslaved and collared, and fought for him or died. He waged war against larger nations, gambling on the fate of huge battles. But his enemies didn’t have what he had. Palemon had sorcery at his disposal, and he had Nisos, the most talented and ambitious sorcerer of them all. With magic and might, they were able to conquer the world.’
As Zedo spoke, Chloe remembered the tales from her childhood. Palemon was always a wise king, the man who brought peace to the world, the hero who fought the eldren and won. But after making friends among the eldren – Liana, Zachary, and Eiric, to name a few – she had often wondered who the true villain had been.
‘Palemon was a proud king, but Nisos was even more ruthless and arrogant. When the expanding Aleuthean Empire brushed up against the eldren, Nisos, who now called himself an archmagus, was astounded to discover their abilities, and immediately began to conduct experiments.’
‘Experiments?’
The magus nodded. ‘Nisos discovered that when collared, an eldran could not change his form. If an eldran was in his normal shape, or the shape of a giant, or a dragon, he would stay that way. Nisos then discovered something else. The collar would also prevent him turning wild.’
Chloe’s eyes widened. She cast her mind back to when she’d first met Triton, the late, self-proclaimed king of the eldren, in the cells below the sun king’s palace in Lamara, again seeing the collar around his neck. Eiric had also been collared when she and Liana had rescued him at the heart of Cinder Fen, now Sindara. She’d known that a collar could weaken the eldren, robbing them of their ability to change their form. But she’d never thought of the effect a metal collar might have on one already changed.
‘Of all of the forms eldren could take, dragons most fascinated both Palemon and Nisos. They knew that with dragons at their disposal, the most far-flung reaches of their empire would never have the courage to break away. But although Nisos possessed collared dragons, he could not force them to do his bidding. So even as Palemon waged war against the eldren – a war of enslavement, rather than conquest – Nisos studied the problem relentlessly.’
Chloe realized that the stories had never been clear on one thing. How had the war between the Aleutheans and the eldren started? What had they been fighting over?
She now knew. Palemon didn’t want the riches of the eldran homeland. He wanted the children of Sindara. Marrix and his people had been fighting for their freedom . . . For their very existence.
‘Nisos finally solved the problem. He found a way to enthrall a dragon in the grip of magical chains. The strongest fighters and most powerful sorcerers became riders of dragons, each worth a thousand men on the battlefield, able to roam the length and breadth of the Aleuthean Empire, which they called their Realm. Palemon captured as many eldren as he could, warring against their entire race, driving them to either flee their homeland or fight until they turned wild. Marrix fought back, but it was only after he’d lost everything that he managed to destroy Aleuthea.’
The magus again met Chloe’s eyes.
‘The Oracle helped Marrix to do it.’
Chloe drew back, surprised.
Zedo continued. ‘What you and I think of as solid ground is actually a thin crust with molten fire below it. Beneath Aleuthea was a dangerous seam, a place of special sensitivity. The Oracle saw the future and discovered that in a thousand years nature would take its course, the seam would fracture, and the island would topple. By giving this knowledge to Marrix, she brought that future forward, and helped bring about the end of Palemon’s reign.’
His lips thinned. ‘By then the Aleutheans had conquered Athos and torn down our temples. We once had a thriving settlement here; now it is as you see it. But that isn’t why the Oracle acted as she did. After the fall of Sindara, the dragons in captivity eventually died, until Palemon had no more. He began to lose control of his empire. In desperation, he turned to Nisos.
‘The archmagus, now an old man, studied the Wellspring in Cinder Fen, and the Source here at Athos. As the far-flung reaches of the Realm began to revolt, he found a solution to his king’s problem. It took the form of a powerful artifact, but an artifact with a fatal flaw. The Oracle saw that it had the potential to destroy the world. It was then that she sought out Marrix, and told him how he could have his vengeance, consigning Aleuthea to the depths of the sea.’
The priest of Athos smiled grimly.
‘So, there is the Aleuthean way, and the true path. We teach that you must be in complete control of your power; it must rise up of its own accord. You must meditate regularly in order to keep it quelled. And only when you have learned to make the fire inside you go cold, will you be able to leave this island, with a reasonable chance that it won’t kill you.’
Chloe took a deep breath and then nodded. She promised herself she would learn.
‘Now, listen carefully. You are first going to learn to work with silver, which means control of the wind. Why? Because it was copper that caused you so much trouble before, and because iron is the most dangerous. Gold we will save for another day. As I have already said, think of the power within you as a slow-burning fire. Can you feel it? You may close your eyes if you wish.’
She closed her eyes and there it was. It was just like the magus said: a seething fire pit, burning inside her. Her chest tightened. She tried not to think of all the pain that the fire might bring.
‘Focus your attention on it, without drawing it in any way. Remain calm.’
Concentrating, Chloe tried, but suddenly she was afraid, remembering what had happened in Sindara.
‘You are frowning and clenching your jaw. Find the calm. If you cannot make this first step, you will have to listen to the wind some more.’
‘No,’ she said.
She allowed her thoughts to settle, and finally was able to calmly a
ppraise the fire. Like any fire, it rose and fell, surging and ebbing.
‘I can feel it. It’s not bringing any pain.’
‘Good. You are close to the Source, so while you are at Athos, the power will come to you easily.’
Chloe nodded, surprised to feel a thrill of excitement.
‘Now the fire consists of all four materia. Think of a real fire. When you hold tinder above it, the flame seeks out the tinder and catches hold of it. It is like this with your power. You can think of violence, and the power of iron will come, but the true path shows us another way.’
She swallowed. ‘I’m ready.’
‘First, let us think of the wind. Do it now.’
She remembered the wind she’d heard on the cliff, howling as it blew, bringing cool air from the sea. The fire inside her surged upward, seeking an exit. A slow pain grew in her head as it felt like more than she could handle.
She opened her eyes.
‘What happened?’ the magus asked.
‘It grew, but it felt like it was too strong.’
He nodded. ‘That is exactly what I expected to happen. It might feel difficult, like thinking four thoughts at the same time, but the wind in your mind can’t have any temperature. It can’t have any sound. It must just be the wind. Otherwise you will not get the one materia you want to use; you will bring a combination, which is one of the greatest sources of danger, and where many go wrong.’
She frowned, trying to make sense of what he was saying.
‘Now try once more.’
She again closed her eyes and thought of wind that was neither warm nor cold. It was a soundless wind; it didn’t howl. It could only be noticed by the feel of it on her skin.
The fire grew, but this time it felt more . . . pure. From the inferno, a single tongue of flame the color of silver was rising, and she was in control of it. This time it brought no pain, no sensation of discomfort.
She opened her eyes and smiled. ‘It was silver. I think it worked.’
Copper Chain (The Shifting Tides Book 3) Page 7