But then, all of a sudden, the Calypso steadied. The wind gradually died down and the waves subsided. Little by little, the ocean reached a new equilibrium, becoming level, a normal sea once again. While Finn continued bailing, Cob was able to wipe his eyes and gaze ahead. He saw the rocky isle of Widow’s Peak growing larger in his vision.
He nervously exchanged glances with Finn. Below the surface, the city of Aleuthea was underwater once more. Cob’s chest tightened as they came within hailing distance of Widow’s Peak.
‘Please,’ he muttered. ‘Dion . . . Chloe . . . Where are you?’
Cob was now circling the isle, but the steep slopes showed not the slightest sign of life.
Then Finn stood, grabbing hold of the mast to steady himself. He cried out and pointed. Cob saw movement in the water and pushed the tiller sharply, taking them toward what appeared to be a person swimming. No, two people.
One was a young man, his hair plastered to his crown, gasping for breath. Dion was treading water. He held Chloe in his arms, her eyes closed as he struggled to keep her head high.
Cob lashed the tiller in place and leaped across the boat to lower the sail, slowing the vessel down. The first to come abreast, Finn grabbed hold of Chloe as Dion held her up. Cob then took hold of Dion’s outstretched arm, hauling him until he and Chloe were both sprawled out in the pooled water in the floor of the boat.
‘Liana?’ Cob asked.
Panting and wheezing, Dion lifted his head, staring at Chloe anxiously until she coughed, ejecting a stream of water. He then pulled himself to his feet and gripped the mast.
‘Lad, take it easy,’ Cob protested.
Dion’s sodden tunic was ragged and torn. He had a circle of bruises around his neck, along with red scratches on his face and body.
But he gazed toward the horizon and shook his head. ‘Liana. Take us out to sea,’ he said hoarsely. ‘I can sense her.’
Cob drew alongside another of the Lost Souls, a low island far out to sea, distant enough from the events at Cape Cush that the waves were gentle, and the wind blew as it should. He exchanged a worried glance with Finn as he dropped the sail, allowing the Calypso to coast to the rocky shore until it struck with a gentle nudge.
Liana was sprawled on her stomach. She wasn’t moving.
Dion leaped out of the boat before anyone could stop him, stumbling and almost falling but righting himself. Rushing to the slight young eldran, he crouched at her side and put his ear against her mouth. ‘She’s breathing,’ he called back. His jaw set tightly, he lifted her up in his arms. ‘Finn, be ready. I’ll pass her over.’
Despite Cob’s position at the helm, when Finn settled her, he didn’t need to be a healer to know she was in trouble. One of her eyes was half-closed and both were bruised, with dark pits surrounding them. The back of her head was scorched and there was a gash on one of her arms that seeped crimson blood.
More worrying still, she didn’t make a sound as they rested her in the bottom beside Chloe.
‘Will they be all right?’ Finn asked Dion.
Dion’s face was grave. ‘They have to be.’ His gaze took in everyone on the boat, first Chloe and Liana, then Finn, and finally Cob. ‘You all came for me. I won’t forget it.’
Cob harrumphed. ‘Where to, lad?’
Dion glanced back in the direction of Malakai. His eyes rested there for a long time before he looked forward once more.
‘Home,’ he said. ‘Sail for home.’
‘And if we’re followed?’
‘Then I’ll do what I can to hold them off.’
Cob shook his head, seeing that Dion was barely holding himself together. But he steered them away from the Lost Souls, and prayed to the gods that the skies would remain clear.
51
Two days’ sailing from the Lost Souls, somewhere on the edge of the Aleuthean Sea, Dion, king of Xanthos, stood on a sandy beach, staring out at the blue expanse and thinking. Despite his exhaustion, he was up before dawn, and the water was calm, with barely a breeze to ruffle his flaxen hair. He gazed out at the horizon for long enough to watch the purple sky become pink, and then a slender piece of light crested the edge of the world. The occasional cloud glowed red as the sun burst into existence, its morning rays angled to the sea, shimmering on the surface.
He inhaled, breathing in fresh air, exhaling slowly, bringing calm to his senses after the recent chaos and despair. But despite the sight of the Calypso nearby, the vessel that would soon take him home, he was still shaken.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the things these people from across the sea had done. Unprovoked, they had stolen Isobel, the woman carrying his child. They’d used him as their test subject, putting a collar on him and enslaving him with copper chains.
His nostrils flared as he felt rage rising up to the surface. He remembered the iron crossbow bolt plunging between Isobel’s shoulder blades. He reminded himself of the terror in her eyes as she’d died, trying to tell him something with her last breath before her lungs filled with fluid.
In the end, Chloe had saved him, but she’d been forced to delay breaking the spell, and the artifacts of ancient Aleuthea had made it to shore. At least Palemon and his two minions were dead, swept into oblivion. He now needed to destroy the sorcerers and soldiers who’d survived. He would need to make alliances, with men like Kargan, ruler of the Ilean Empire. They both had reason to eradicate the nation of Aleuthea once and for all.
As he seethed, he sensed someone coming up to stand beside him. Forcing calm, he spoke without turning. ‘How are you feeling, Liana?’
‘You can sense me?’
‘I’ve accepted who I am. I will never wear a necklace, or a collar, again.’
‘That makes two of us. But be careful, Dion. I could feel your anger even as I approached.’
He changed the subject. ‘How is Chloe?’
‘Still exhausted. I think it’s more than almost drowning. The magic is catching up to her. She keeps mumbling something about the wind.’
Dion turned and met Liana’s eyes. ‘Should I be worried?’
‘Did she tell you that she left Athos before it was safe for her to do so? She wanted to find her sister, but also to find you. You know that she loves—’
Liana looked away as she abruptly stopped speaking. Dion’s skin tingled. He shielded his eyes, staring out to sea.
He glanced at Liana. ‘Can you sense . . . ?’
She nodded.
They appeared in the dawn sky, distant enough to look like a flock of birds, but growing far too large, far too quickly. Wings swept up and down, arcing on both sides of the sinuous bodies they were connected to. The wings were thin as parchment, large as a big ship’s sails. The rising sun shimmered off their scales, glinting like bright light shining from steel.
Dion watched as a dozen silver-scaled dragons came into view.
Their formation was tight, swooping down with discipline and speed. As their features became clear, Dion took in their small but muscular forelimbs and powerful hind legs, their arched necks and angular heads, with protuberances swept back from their skulls, creating a series of knobs almost like a frill.
They were all big, the size of Dion or Liana when changed, but Dion’s mouth dropped open as he saw that they were led from the front by an immense dragon with a wingspan twice the length of any other. If he hadn’t recognized the lead dragon’s irises, the color of molten gold, and sensed his indomitable will, he would never have known who he was, for Dion had seen him before in dragon form but never like this.
Suddenly he could hear them, the crackle and snap of their wings as they swept at the air, and then they were descending to the beach. One by one, they shifted form even as they made contact with the ground, and now Dion was looking at Eiric, along with an assembled group of twelve tall, angry eldren.
Eiric had changed, he could see at a glance. He was as lean as ever, with sharp features and skin as white as snow, contrasting with his golden eyes. But he now had
a powerful, regal presence and wore a crown of twisted laurel leaves on his head, although he was clad in the same deerskin clothing as his companions.
Eiric only had eyes for Liana.
He’d barely changed his form before he was rushing toward her, ignoring everything else. Breathing heavily, his face revealing ragged emotion, his eyes widened as he inspected the bruises on her face. He took her hand and held it up, examining the bandage on her arm.
‘My love . . . I felt your pain from a world away,’ he said softly. ‘Liana, tell me. Who did this to you?’
When Liana lowered her head, Eiric turned his golden eyes on Dion, his expression of rage naked and raw, but Dion met his gaze firmly.
‘We should not be fighting each other,’ Dion said, regarding the man who had once been his friend. ‘You and I, we were once close. We need to stand together as we did before. For our enemy – our true enemy – did things to Liana, and to me, that must be avenged.’
‘Who are these people?’ Eiric said in a low, urgent voice.
‘They are the descendants of Aleuthea.’
Eiric looked at his brethren. ‘Dalton, Caleb, all of you . . . Wait here.’ He turned back to Dion. ‘You and I, Dion, King of Xanthos . . . It appears we need to talk.’
He then reached out to stroke Liana’s face.
‘I will be back soon, my love. We are going to repay these people for everything they did to you.’
‘They chained her, collared her?’
Dion nodded.
Eiric’s fists were clenched at his sides. ‘We won’t leave a single one of them alive. At least this king is dead.’
‘It was all Chloe . . .’ Dion shook his head. ‘She was incredible. Tore their magic apart. I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘So, Dion . . . Where does this leave things between you and me?’
‘I tried talking to you—’
‘You deployed your soldiers against us.’
‘I had to,’ Dion said. ‘I’m half-eldran, but I’m the ruler of a human kingdom, and Queen Zanthe of Tanus is our ally.’ He tried to keep the ire out of his voice. ‘You didn’t even reach out to me before you attacked the mines.’
‘What else was I to do?’ Eiric scowled. ‘It’s our territory. You humans will never give up your quest for metal.’
‘Look at it from Zanthe’s point of view,’ Dion said. ‘Tanus started working the mines when Cinder Fen was a dangerous place. The people of Tanus know that if they lose the mines, they will become poorer. Without a harbor, Tanus has few resources. Zanthe has the popular support of her citizens. Even if she wanted to, even if I begged her, she couldn’t agree to let you have them.’
‘You are telling me nothing I don’t already know. And you wonder why we fight?’
‘Eiric . . .’ Dion said slowly. ‘Have you ever thought of buying them from her?’
Eiric’s fierce expression shifted to a puzzled frown.
‘Sindara has a wealth of gemstones. You once gave me a pouch yourself, and I remember you saying that they’re easily found, if you know where to look.’
‘She would accept that?’ Eiric asked.
‘If you gave her a settlement, it would allow her to save face, and she would be able to lavish the proceeds on her people. You might even be able to establish regular trade, benefiting you both. Tell me, were you ever in danger of losing any of your skirmishes? Were the soldiers of Tanus a serious threat?’
‘No. Not at all.’
‘The price might not be as high as you think.’
Eiric looked away, scratching his sharp chin pensively. He finally sighed, turning back to face Dion. ‘I’m sorry, Dion. I should have come to you.’
‘I’ll help to restore peace between Sindara and Tanus. But for now . . .’ Dion’s face became grim. ‘We have an enemy to face.’
‘We may have an ally,’ Eiric said. ‘On our way here, we saw a mighty fleet. Thirty or more ships flying orange-and-yellow flags were sailing toward the Aleuthean Sea.’
Dion looked up sharply. ‘Kargan. He’s trying to take back Malakai.’
‘Does he know what he will be facing?’
‘He may be aware, or he may not. Either way, I’m sure he could use our help.’ Dion put out his hand. ‘You and I, King Eiric. Shall we fight together?’
‘My friend,’ Eiric said, clasping his palm. ‘I think we shall.’
Dion was crouched next to Chloe, holding her hand. Lying on a blanket on the sand, she was mumbling in her sleep.
‘The wind,’ she whispered. Her face looked pained as she twitched. When she shuddered and her voice grew louder, he finally decided to shake her.
‘Chloe. Chloe!’
She opened her eyes. Her irises were entirely black. But then she blinked, and in an instant they were again a soft shade of brown.
‘Dion?’ Her face was pale as she looked up at him. ‘I was having a terrible dream.’
His heart reached out to her. Despite this magic that had cursed her, she’d left Athos behind to help her sister, and then she’d somehow made it all the way to Malakai to rescue him. She’d saved him from himself, for he knew that even if he’d managed to seize Palemon’s dagger, he would surely have been killed. She’d pushed herself beyond endurance, and now she was paying the price.
‘I know,’ he said. ‘You kept saying something about the wind.’
Chloe’s brow creased as she turned away. She was so beautiful, it hurt him to look at her. He wanted to take her in his arms, but instead he simply held her hand.
‘I’ve come to tell you something,’ Dion said. ‘Eiric is here. He’s brought with him some of the most powerful warriors of Sindara. And Kargan is on his way to Malakai with a fleet.’
Chloe glanced up sharply. ‘You’re leaving?’
‘I have to help.’
‘I’m going with you.’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I want you and Liana to take care of each other, and for you both to look after Cob and Finn.’
‘If this is about vengeance—’
‘It’s about more than that. It’s about the things they uncovered from the sunken city. It’s about magic we don’t understand. We have to stop them before they become unstoppable.’
She was silent for a time. ‘When will I see you again?’
‘I’ll find you,’ he said. ‘I promise.’
‘Dion . . . Be careful.’
He nodded. ‘I will.’
52
Zara was in the central shaft of the Sky Tower in Malakai. Standing near the middle of the blood-stained floor, she watched as the slaves carefully tilted the metal arch until it was standing tall on its disc-shaped feet.
She then approached the strange artifact built by Nisos the Archmagus.
The rays of the midday sun shone down from above, glinting off the braided metal. Small symbols of magic decorated its surface, so many that she couldn’t hazard a guess as to their purpose. Whatever the arch was, it was powerful, fashioned from all the four materia: gold, silver, copper, and iron.
‘But what does it do?’ she murmured to herself.
Walking around it, examining it as she pondered, she bit her lip, brow furrowed in concentration. Why an arch? The shape must be related to its purpose. What can be done with an arch?
She glanced at the magus beside her, a rangy man with a neat beard. He shrugged. ‘I defer to your wisdom, sorceress.’
Zara scowled.
She’d read the ancient tome that she’d recovered from the vault, but her poor knowledge of Old Aleuthean made the reading difficult, and the book covered many topics. She desperately wished now that she’d taken the second volume, which she suspected covered the arch in more detail, but what was done was done. Anything she learned would have to be through experimentation.
‘Perhaps more time with the tome?’ the magus ventured.
‘I’ve learned all I can,’ Zara muttered. She spoke for herself as much as her companion as she circled the Arch of Nisos, while the
sorcerer and the slaves all hung back. ‘Whatever it does, it must be something remarkable, for it would have taken a long time to gather so much precious metal. Nisos built it as an older man, late in Aleuthea’s history. The war with the eldren was won many years before, and the last of the dragons had died in captivity.’
She rubbed her chin, circling slowly around the object of her attention.
‘Without dragons,’ she said, ‘it was difficult for the ancient Aleutheans to maintain their empire. Whatever the arch’s purpose, it was intended to solve this problem.’
She stopped circling and now faced it. Stepping forward, she examined it more closely, running her fingers over the metal. She finally narrowed her gaze at the angular symbol at the apex, far larger than any other.
‘Slave!’ she called to a scrawny lad with a scar below his eye. ‘Come here so I can climb onto your back.’
The slave apprehensively came forward and crouched on the ground, moving until he was on his hands and knees. Climbing onto his back, Zara stretched until she was resting her fingertips on the angular symbol at the arch’s highest point.
Closing her eyes, in the same way that she’d opened the sealed gates and the magically locked chest, she tried to link the symbol with gold, then silver, then copper, and finally iron. Nothing happened. She sighed and opened her eyes.
Then she had an idea.
Fingers still pressed to the symbol, she closed her eyes again. But rather than a single materia, she summoned the power inside her with a mixed flame, despite the danger of channeling more than one materia at once.
The fire of her magic surged up, suddenly drawn out of her like her lifeblood was pumping out onto the sand. So much was sucked out that she felt weak, and had to fight to keep her knees from buckling.
Copper Chain (The Shifting Tides Book 3) Page 31