Only then did she break contact with her power. The soldier plummeted to the earth, striking hard enough to kill him.
She hurried to the open entrance of the tower. Reaching the dead guard, she crouched and drew his dagger from the scabbard at his belt.
Finn was looking at Chloe with wide eyes.
‘Take this.’ She handed him the dagger. ‘Come on.’
With Chloe in the lead, they plunged inside and followed a broad corridor. Passing a second, inner archway, Chloe glanced at the tower’s interior shaft, devoid of people, but with dried blood smeared on the paving stones. Exchanging glances with Finn, she kept moving. The floor began to slope downward, and it was some time before they came to an immense door that perfectly filled the stone tunnel, made of what appeared to be gold.
Chloe noticed the symbols around the golden door. Similar symbols decorated the device at the top of her staff.
The golden door was open, and now Finn’s heavy breathing betrayed his fear. Dagger held out in front of him, he followed just behind her as they entered another corridor, taking them deep beneath the tower.
Entering a cavernous chamber, first Chloe, and then Finn, came to a halt.
Flickering torches lit up walls of stone and a row of iron cages. Chloe smelled the sickening stench of caged animals. Written on one wall was jagged lettering in a language she couldn’t understand.
A dark figure lunged out of the shadows.
A soldier ran at them, swinging his sword. Remembering the teachings of her bodyguard, Tomarys, Chloe weaved to the side and thrust out her staff at ankle height. The guard tripped and lost his footing, falling face forward on the stone. Finn crouched and grunted as he made a swift movement with the dagger. The guard went still.
For a time there was silence as they both scanned the area for more enemies. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Chloe lifted her staff when she saw a figure in the corner, but then lowered it. The wretch was an elderly slave, huddled with his hands above his face. He was cowering near a long water trough and a series of buckets.
‘Keep an eye on him,’ she said to Finn.
She moved to the row of cages, taking her first good look at their occupants. She drew in a sharp breath.
Ten of the twelve cells had creatures inside them, wretched-looking dragons with breath rumbling in their chests and shivering wings. Their heads were all raised: they were watching her and Finn with intent, almond-shaped eyes. She approached the nearest cage and the creature inside suddenly lunged at the bars, stopping short just before crashing into the black iron, snarling and making her leap back.
Warily continuing her assessment, traveling along the row, she saw that the dragons’ colors ranged from jet-black to dark silver. Some of them had strange copper chains fastened to their collars.
Finally she stopped.
The lean, silver-scaled dragon was the largest of them all and the only one of its color. Lifting her head, Liana looked out at Chloe with pain-filled eyes the shade of green grass.
‘Chloe,’ Finn hissed. ‘I can hear shouts. Be quick.’
Chloe swiftly threw the bolt and pulled the gate open to enter the cage. Her brow furrowed as she approached Liana and examined the red metal chains fastened to the collar around her neck. Magical symbols decorated the connecting clasp between the two lengths, and they were draped on either side of Liana’s flanks like reins. As the shouts become louder and Chloe heard the clatter of footsteps, she clasped a length of copper and her eyes went wide.
The bond with Liana was real and immediate. In an instant Chloe knew that the Aleutheans’ magic gave her the power to dominate her friend utterly. It was a feeling of both intimacy and violation. She could sense Liana’s mingled fear and hope. It made her feel sick.
‘Chloe!’ Finn cried.
Reaching over Liana’s neck, Chloe found the central joint and unclasped it, tossing the strange reins to the ground. But when she looked at the collar, she realized that the stout iron only fastened in one direction, like a barbed arrow. There was no apparent way to remove it.
She began to feel panic. How did they remove the collars? She knew there must be a way. As Liana began to stamp at the ground, Chloe furiously examined the collar, but could see no way of opening it.
‘Chloe!’ Finn called.
Biting her lip, she thought about the magus who’d captured Liana. He’d carried a staff with an iron claw: a fire staff. She thought about what she knew of the crafting of iron, which was little, but she knew that heat could make iron expand. In this case, the heat would have to be extreme, and it would have to be perfectly focused, or the wearer of the collar would die.
Finally Chloe cast her mind back to her time with Vikram. The magi at Athos hadn’t taught her the use of iron, but she knew that anger could feed the flame inside. But it was dangerous. If she got it wrong, the magic could cause Chloe to burst into flame.
She thrust the thought to the side. She needed anger, not fear, but anger was easy to come by. These people had captured her friend and enslaved her, keeping her in a cage like an animal.
Closing her eyes, Chloe put her hand around the iron hoop and fed the fire inside her mind.
She drew on her anger, at the same time imagining a fire without light, without wind, without sound. It was as black as coal and filled her from head to toe with heat. Her skin prickled, the sensation strongest where her fingers gripped the iron. The fastening felt warm in her hands and then searing hot. The dragon whimpered, and Chloe gasped as she felt an explosion of flame inside her. Heat came to her cheeks, but then suddenly the collar fell open.
Chloe threw the circle of black iron to the ground. As Finn shouted at her to hurry and men’s shouts grew louder, she knew there was only one way for them to escape. ‘Liana, can you stay in this form, for just a little longer?’
The dragon gave Chloe a surprisingly determined expression. Without warning, the silver dragon hurtled past Chloe toward the open door of the cage and spun in a tight turn, forelegs scratching at the ground, wings crackling like a sail catching the wind.
Chloe ran out of the cage. She saw Finn standing guard, peering into the corridor. ‘Finn!’
Hoisting her staff, Chloe pulled herself up onto the dragon’s back as Finn rushed over, awkwardly climbing on behind her. The silver dragon put her head down and started to run.
Immediately four running soldiers came into view. Chloe held on tightly with one hand and pointed her staff up the tunnel. She fed the fire inside and felt the power of the materia rush to the surface and travel into the metal spiral. She drew on every reserve, even as exhaustion threatened to crush her and pain spiked through her temples. With a cry she sent a burst of wind through the tunnel powerful enough to blow them tumbling out of sight.
Liana gathered speed as they climbed the tunnel, and then Chloe saw bright light. They raced through the archway leading to the vertical shaft and Liana’s wings opened up. A piercing shriek of joy bounced off the walls as they flew up and out of the tower, heading in the direction of the rising sun.
‘Well,’ Finn called. ‘I suppose that’s the end of Fustalonious.’
43
Dion stumbled, the whipcord tied to his collar pulling tight. The sudden tension pressed the iron band against his skin, choking him before he managed to keep moving and create some slack.
His hands were tied behind his back with tough leather. He knew that if he fell, he wouldn’t be able to prevent his head striking the ground. Hauling him by the whipcord, the camel moaned in irritation. The wide-bellied, long-legged beast had no trouble navigating the uneven terrain, forcing him to jog to keep up. Nestled in a huge, curved saddle just behind the animal’s hump, Palemon rode the camel comfortably, his eyes fixed straight ahead.
In the distance, heat rose from the ground in shimmering waves, while high above, the sky was devoid of clouds, promising that the blazing sun would only grow fiercer as it rose to dominate the sky. The air smelled of sweat and animals. All around,
camels grumbled and donkeys hawed. Warriors from the frozen north were red-faced in their chain mail but never made a sound of complaint. A sharp crack came from the direction of the baggage train: somewhere a porter’s shoulders had been sliced by the lick of the slave master’s whip.
It was an immense column leaving behind the city of Malakai, heading for Cape Cush and the treasures they hoped to find beneath the sea. The king led from the front, towing Dion like an animal being taken to market, while behind them walked several gray-robed sorcerers and scores of Palemon’s soldiers. Not far from the king, Zara and Kyphos were both riding camels of their own.
Panting as he tried to moisten his parched lips, Dion distracted himself by thinking about the days ahead, and Zara’s plan to unearth the relics of Aleuthea. He wondered whether he would be able to take advantage of the situation to kill the man he’d sworn he would destroy. Much of his submissiveness and halting speech was pretense, but he knew that he was far from at his strongest. Nonetheless, if the chance came, he would seize it without question. He would take Palemon’s life, even if it cost him his own.
With little to do but ponder, his mind turned to Chloe and Finn. He hadn’t seen Cob, but he knew the old man would be with them. Finn’s ruse was over: Palemon was convinced that Fustalonious of Lyre – as he still believed Finn to be – had worked his way into the king’s favor solely to free the dragons. The tall king had raged about his chronicler’s deception, while Dion had fought to keep a smile from his face. He was glad that Chloe and Finn were now far away.
He coughed in the dust. The cord fastened to his collar jerked tight again as he struggled to keep moving.
Finn crouched behind a gnarled tree and peered from his hilltop perch, gazing in the direction of the shore. He watched as the cloud of dust finally revealed the shapes of men and animals. As expected, the column was traveling in the direction of Cape Cush, a promontory jutting out from the coast, with smooth rock vanishing into the sea below.
He lifted his gaze and saw Widow’s Peak, one of the largest of the Lost Souls, and the closest to shore. He then looked back at the collection of soldiers and slaves traveling from Malakai. They’d finally arrived. He needed to hurry back to let the others know.
He turned, preparing to leave his concealment, when he suddenly heard a piercing shriek, immediately followed by the sound of flapping wings.
He ducked as a charcoal-colored dragon flew overhead. Tilting his head back, he saw the huge flying creature’s underbelly and the sun shining through the thin wings, revealing bones and pulsing veins. The strong hind legs were tucked up under its body and its tapered head darted about as it sped past.
Finn saw the armored rider, reins of copper in his hands, sweep his eyes over the terrain before he performed a tight turn. He climbed the sky and hovered while his mount’s powerful wings swept up and down with slow, leisurely movements.
The rider continued to scan the area, and Finn held his breath. He leaned into the scant protection of the desiccated tree, wishing it had some leaves. He hunched his head into his shoulders. He realized he had his eyes squeezed tightly shut.
The dragon shrieked again. Finn heard a snap as its wings caught the air. He counted the seconds, huddled to the trunk, waiting for a thump as the dragon’s legs struck the ground.
Another animal cry sounded, but this time it was further away. Opening his eyes, Finn risked looking up. The twin arcs of dragon wings were becoming distant; it was climbing the sky and heading back toward the cape. He now saw several other winged silhouettes circling over the column like birds of prey eyeing a carcass. The riders all wore Aleuthean chain mail, glinting in the sun, and carried long, sharp spears.
Judging his moment carefully, he waited until the group had begun to settle in at the cape before breaking cover and running back to the hidden cove.
Finn found the others near the shore, resting in the shade of a rocky overhang. Chloe sat cross-legged on the sand, her eyes closed, breathing slowly in and out. Nearby, the slender eldran, Liana, still appeared harrowed, with shadows under her eyes and sallow skin, but she now looked better than she had in days.
‘What are you doing?’ Finn asked Chloe.
She opened her eyes. ‘Meditating. You’ve seen them?’
‘They’re here,’ he said.
‘I sensed dragons,’ Liana said. She glanced up at him, and he saw that her grass-green eyes were surprisingly steely. ‘You weren’t seen?’
‘It was a close call. One of them . . .’ Finn saw Liana’s eyes narrow, and decided to cut his explanation short. ‘No, I wasn’t seen.’
‘Then it’s almost time,’ Liana said.
‘You’re sure you’re up to this?’ Chloe asked her.
‘You know what they did to me. Dion will have experienced far worse. I’ll do whatever it takes to free him.’
‘Liana is ready,’ Finn said. ‘And so am I.’
‘But still no sign of Cob,’ Chloe said. ‘If I can break the spell, Liana can help me rescue Dion. But there’s a good chance we’ll both be weak, and without a boat . . .’
Finn rubbed his chin. He was more worried than he liked to admit. While they freed Liana, Cob’s task had been to go back for the boat he and Finn had sailed to Malakai. ‘He should have returned with the Calypso by now.’
‘You said it was hidden? Could he be having difficulty finding it?’
‘Cob?’ Finn shook his head. ‘No. The old man never forgets a thing. He must have run into trouble.’ He gazed into the distance. ‘I’m going to have to search for him.’
‘I agree,’ Chloe said. She spoke firmly. ‘This doesn’t change the plan. Liana and I will go to Widow’s Peak. We will be overlooking the Great Tower when they part the sea. If I can disrupt the spell, we’ll be safely away from the water.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘I plan to destroy as many of their soldiers and sorcerers as I can. I might even be able to take out Palemon himself.’
‘But if I can’t find Cob . . .’
‘You have to. Find him. Find the Calypso. You can do this, Finn. We’re counting on you.’
44
The sun climbed the sky. Gentle waves lapped the rocky shore. It was a pleasant day, with a sea breeze cooling bodies made hot by the long march and the rays of the radiant sun.
Palemon watched from his seat on a tall wooden throne, placed for his use not far from the water’s edge, as Zara and her sorcerers made preparations for their magic.
He gazed out over the sea, looking at the distant shard: Widow’s Peak. He thought about the city Zara’s spell would reveal. The home of his forefathers.
Aleuthea. The greatest city the world had ever known.
A dozen generations may have lived in Necropolis, but long before that, Palemon’s ancestors grew their island metropolis into the most powerful nation in the Realm of the Three Seas. They built the Library of Kantos, the Temple of the Magi, the Royal Palace, and the Tomb of Caphri. At the Coliseum, slaves from all over the Realm fought each other in bloody bouts before crowds of fifty thousand. Archmagus Nisos created great wonders: the golden disc and copper bell at the summit of the Lighthouse, the copper chains, and this mysterious arch.
Back in Necropolis, the magi had always told tales of Aleuthea, and there were written accords brought with the exiles from before the fall, but since his return, Palemon now knew far more about his ancestors. He knew that they enslaved the eldren and kept dragons in a vault below the Great Tower in Aleuthea, a structure that Zara said was visible through the sea, in the deep water below Widow’s Peak.
Feeling anxiety and excitement in equal measure, he gripped the arms of his throne and watched as Kyphos got the slaves and soldiers into order while Zara assembled her magi just above the water’s edge. His breath quickened as six sorcerers, some old, some young, but all skilled at commanding the wind, stood in a line facing the water. Overhead, swooping dragons circled at the height of the lowest clouds.
Soon all was ready.
Palemon glanced at the k
ing of Xanthos, sitting on the hard rock beside the throne with shoulders hunched and head bowed between his knees. These so-called kings had no idea what real power was. They were soon going to find out.
Palemon scowled when he saw that Dion was barely aware of what was happening. He wanted him to see this. Feeling growing irritation, he clicked his fingers at a slave, who shuffled over, his head bowed in deference as he brought him a skin of water. Palemon took the skin and immediately tossed it at Dion’s feet.
But he frowned when the king of Xanthos didn’t move, merely looking up at him with a pained expression, lifting his wrists to show that they were bound with tough leather. Palemon drew the dagger at his belt and leaned down to whip the blade through the bindings. Immediately Dion reached down and picked up the skin, pulling out the stopper and drinking greedily.
‘Watch, King of Xanthos,’ Palemon said. ‘One day, if the gods smile on you, it might be you writing this history.’
Dion ignored him, gulping mouthful after mouthful of water.
‘Sire.’ Zara approached. ‘We are ready.’
Palemon drew in a long breath, savoring the moment, more tense and eager than he’d ever been before. ‘What will I be able to see from here?’
‘The Great Tower is our objective. I expect the structure to follow a similar configuration to the tower in Malakai, although its diameter is of course significantly larger.’
‘Will we see the Royal Palace?’
Zara hesitated. ‘No, sire. I am afraid it is much further out to sea. Our magic will not reveal it. But you may see the Lighthouse from here.’
Palemon closed his eyes and drew in another deep lungful of air before opening them again. He clutched the arms of the chair, his knuckles white. Finally he nodded at Zara. ‘Begin.’
Copper Chain (The Shifting Tides Book 3) Page 27