Elka put down the plate she was holding and scurried around the table. Before Elspeth could say a word, she found herself walking back down the path towards the valley.
Gather all the stones to defeat this Diobael. At least something good had come out of that ridiculous charade. Now, if only she could tell someone what she had learned.
“Foolish girl, you only had to agree with her. You might have escaped, had you just played along.”
Elspeth stared wide eyed at the older woman.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you gawping around, looking for a way out.”
Elspeth swallowed hard. What did she mean by that?
Elka was shaking her head and looking very much like her mother would if Elspeth had done something silly.
“Will you help me?” Elspeth asked. A glimmer of hope fluttered in her belly. What a time to say something like that.
“Ha! I might have, had you not rubbed Madam Slae wrong. She will have the guards on their toes for sure. You young ones, you never know when to shut up.”
Yes, just like her mother.
“It’s not too late,” Elspeth pleaded. “There must be something I can do!”
“The best you can hope is that the Witch’s Council say no to her request. You might get lucky; Madam Slae isn’t very popular with the rest of the Eiras Witches.”
Request…? Council…? Now what is she talking about? “You mean Vila isn’t in charge? Who is their leader?”
“Oh, Vila rules Toi’ildrieg, sure enough, but Eiras is a different matter. And the temple is on Eiras.”
“The Witch’s Council,” Elspeth whispered. Going there did not sound any better than her current predicament, but at least there was a way to stop Vila, now that she had ruined her chance of escape. “Are they likely to say no?”
Elka shrugged. “Madam Slae is an Oracle. I don’t think they can stop her, but they can keep her from removing another Shard. You’ll have to hope that is what they decide.”
“Another part of the stone? How many are there?”
“Just one. It rests beneath the temple. Only Oracles or dragons can remove a part of it, though. I may be wrong, but I think Madam Slae is the only Oracle.”
“No, she isn’t.” Elspeth smiled. “I know another.”
“Then you know more than me.” Elka raised her chin and gave Elspeth a sideways glance. “I’m not on your side, child, you remember that. Nevertheless, if I can help… I don’t want to see anyone else die. This war is wrong. I’m afraid if Madam Slae thinks she can defeat Diobael with an army of slaves then she is at best misguided, at worst, a fool. Evil begets evil; you won’t beat Diobael with the sword.”
“How…? Where did you learn all this?”
“Mothers in Toi’ildrieg have used stories of the Lord of the Black to frighten children into behaving themselves for a thousand years. Well, maybe not a thousand. We all know he is coming. Truth is, Vila used that fear to take control during the civil war with Toi’ifael. ‘The wind will rise in the north, the dragons will cry, and the oceans will burn when the Lord of the Black returns.’”
Elspeth couldn’t help but shudder. Dipping her head, she entered their tent and slumped on her bed. “When you say ‘Lord of the Black’ do you mean the Raics?”
Elka looked surprised. She nodded, but said nothing. Then she sat down on her own bed.
“It seems we should be working together, Elka. I… we have never heard of this tale. Oh, a few fables of the Spirit Lords, and maybe a bit about the wolf clans, but if what you say is true… I’m not saying I believe, but…”
Elka smiled. “This goes far deeper than you or I, child. All we can hope is for better minds to prevail.”
Elspeth shook her head, “No, it’s not just for others, Elka. You said it yourself: ‘Evil begets evil.’ We all need to be part of this, and work for good.” Elspeth blinked, she could hardly believe what she was saying. “Recently, I have come to learn a great deal about the Powers. I have friends who… Well, never mind that. I do understand the Balance. Good people can’t just sit idly by when evil raises its head. That will do nothing but help this… Diobael character.”
Elka chuckled. “Maybe you are right, child, but there’s nothing we can do about it tonight, and the more we talk, the more chance our words will make it to Madam Slae’s ears. You should sleep and think about tomorrow. There may be a way I can help, and if so, I promise I will; but for now, you should rest.”
* * *
Elspeth couldn’t sleep.
She lay on her bed, once again staring at the ceiling, her mind full of witches and dragons and evil. Too much depended on chance, and she did not like that. Too much depended on her, and she liked that even less. She had to get back and tell the others what she had learned, even if it would mean going along with Vila’slae’s plans. She found herself hoping that the Witches of Eiras were kind, friendly folk. She doubted that. She doubted it very much.
CHAPTER 10
Scale and Leaf
Gialyn raised his head for the third time. He could not remember eating that much for breakfast. Wiping his chin with the cloth Brea had given him, he looked at the dragons. They were still laughing.
“You’ll not make a dragon rider if you can’t hold your stomach, boy,” Lyduk told him. Ban nodded his head in agreement.
Gialyn was sure Lyduk did it on purpose – dart up and down and spinning in the air. There was no need for acrobatics, or the abrupt landing. “You could have a care,” Gialyn said. “What if we had an accident?”
Ban and Lyduk looked like brothers with their deep-red scales and short horns. Ban was larger, though, but not by much, and Lyduk’s wings were a slightly paler shade of red, and he had spikes at the end of his tail while Ban’s ended with a flat plate of bone. Other than that, they could have been twins. They both looked fierce… when they were not laughing at him.
Lyduk sniggered. “You don’t see young Ealian complaining.”
True, Ealian wasn’t complaining. Then again, Elspeth’s twin was probably too preoccupied with the voice of Alacin in his head to think about his stomach. Whatever the reason, the distraction worked; the young man was sitting with his back resting against a tree, eating.
Gialyn rubbed his stomach and moaned at the rumbling. No, he was not going to be sick again. Damn those dragons.
“Are you wishing you had not come?” Brea asked, handing him a cup of water. She had a smile on her face. Gialyn hoped it was sympathy and not because she, too, thought his weak stomach was funny. “I can give you some herbs for the sickness.”
Now she tells me. “No thank you, Brea. I’ll get used to it. Besides, I think I’ve run out of food to throw up.”
Brea laughed. She sat on the stone beside him. “You know I had a dream about you,” she said, “a very strange dream.”
“Really?” Gialyn’s mind spun. No, it can’t be that; get your mind out of the gutter. “What was it about?”
Brea chuckled. Smiling, she slowly shook her head. “It isn’t the dream that was strange; it was the feeling I had during it. You are important, Gialyn. Somehow I knew if you didn’t come, we would fail.”
Gialyn pinched his brow. Why did she say that? “Do you know something? What am I supposed to do that is so important?”
Brea shrugged. “It could be anything. If there is one thing I’ve learned amongst all this confusion, it’s that the slightest act can make all the difference. A chance meeting, a word said in jest, turning a corner a second too late; The Balance pushes us from all directions. You will do something in the next few days that will tilt that Balance in our favour, but I don’t know what.”
That was the third time since Brea emerged from her dream that she had said something… peculiar about him. The first was when she asked if Daric had finished planting the fruit trees before they left for Bailryn. The second time, she wanted to know if Mairi – his mother – was well, and if she was happy that he was joining the guards. She had spoken as if she already
knew the answer. She had smiled when he said he did not intend to join the Palace Guards.
“Come. You must eat something, sick or not. Maybe a little bread will settle your stomach.” Brea stood and reached out her hand. Gialyn let her help him stand. He was feeling a bit weak at the knees. “At the least, you should have some honey tea and kalli. That will hold you until tonight.”
Kalli again! Considering he hadn’t heard of the stuff a month ago, an awful lot of people were using the herb, for everything from sickness to headaches. Still, it was better than a swimming stomach.
Arfael was sitting by his pack, pulling at his new armour. “Kun has Olef” he called it, and it looked good on him, Gialyn admitted – not that the young man wasn’t good looking enough. No more the ugly giant, not since Elspeth had destroyed the Barrow Shard; Gialyn had to admit Arfael was now the most handsome man he had ever seen – almost beautiful, damn him. The dragons had given Arfael the two-piece suit of armour yesterday afternoon while Brea was sleeping. Apparently, the big man had been close to tears when he opened the chest and saw what was inside. Gialyn recognised the design: something from Arfael’s home, if Gialyn remembered right. Armour made especially for the Cinnè’arth. Of course, Gialyn didn’t know why it was special, but it did look good. Arfael covered himself with his cloak when they approached.
The big man – could Gialyn still call him that? He was still big, but nothing like the size of the old Arfael – nodded and asked if he felt better.
“A little,” Gialyn replied. “Brea is going to make me one of her potions. I’ll be fine.”
Brea scowled at him. “I’m not a witch, Gialyn Re’adh.”
Gialyn started. “I didn’t say you were. It’s just—”
“Just nothing. You should know better. Don’t even joke about such things.”
She had become touchy since waking up, too. Not for the first time, Gialyn wondered what was in that dream she had had to make her so irritable. “I’m sorry, Brea. What would you like me to call it?” His voice was level. Although he couldn’t help a touch of sarcasm.
Brea folded her arms and regarded him through squinted eyes. “It’s medicine, Gialyn; plain, ordinary, common or garden medicine. Nothing more.”
Gialyn knew well enough that there was nothing “common” about Brea’s potions – medicines – but he decided it was best not to press the matter. Instead, he just nodded in agreement. If she wanted to call it “ordinary…”
“Sit down. I’ll make you some tea,” Brea said, pointing to a spot next to the small fire.
Gialyn found himself sitting much quicker than he had expected. He almost caused his stomach to roll again. Arfael’s grin told him enough of what he thought of his obedience. No, she isn’t in charge, Gialyn thought, and then wondered – if not her, then who? The dragons?
Gialyn drank Brea’s tea, and half an hour later, they were back in the air. Gialyn and Ealian on Lyduk, Brea and Arfael on the slightly larger Ban. The girl, the… Dragon Oracle had told him to sit up front and keep his eyes on the horizon – well, she should know, he supposed. It seemed to work, whether it was the tea or her advice, the sickness was gone. Rather than feel ill, he found himself enjoying the view.
They were over An’aird Barath. He knew that much, but exactly where he could not say. Only that they were heading northeast. The mountains, or rather the Karan Ridges, were long since gone. Below them, the land spread out in what looked like a sparsely forested wilderness; no road, villages or farms anywhere in sight. They had followed the Broan River east, so Arfael had said, until reaching a fork in the river, then directly north for nearly an hour. By the time dusk settled on the grey-brown landscape, Gialyn could just about see the ocean on the eastern horizon. They would have to stop soon. Unless the dragons were intent on flying in the dark. Strangely enough, Gialyn hoped they would.
Abruptly, Lyduk began to hiss and groan. The dragon flapped his wings hard to slow their flight. Gialyn looked to his left; Ban was doing the same.
“What’s wrong?” he asked Lyduk. But before the dragon answered, Gialyn saw what was troubling them. Three dragons were on the horizon, flying directly towards them. “Oh, I’m guessing they are not on our side.” Despite his casual remark, he felt a surge of fear swell up in his belly. Three dragons!
If Lyduk heard, he didn’t answer. “They’ve seen us. Get ready to jump. I can’t fight with you on my back.”
Ban must have had the same thought, as he was already landing on a nearby hill. Arfael and Brea jumped off before the dragon stopped running, and as quick at that, Ban was up in the air again, flying towards the enemy.
Gialyn readied himself, and Ealian cocked his leg over Lyduk’s neck, all set to slide off.
Lyduk’s feet touched down, and Gialyn jumped. He rolled for what seemed like an age, hands clasped around his pack, before coming to a stop.
Standing unsteadily, he heard Lyduk shout, “Now hide somewhere before they use you as bait.”
Arfael and Brea were already running to meet them. When the Arfael saw him looking, he waved towards a small copse of trees. Gialyn nodded. Ealian was already on his way.
The three dragons were nothing but silhouettes in the evening sky. Two of them looked much bigger than Ban or Lyduk. “Can’t they fly away? They will never win two against three,” Gialyn said to Brea, as they both ducked down behind a line of thorny bushes.
“Don’t be so sure,” Brea said. “Two are Cuis, and the Drin looks young. It’s an even match. Besides, Ban and Lyduk are no strangers to the Battle of Wings.”
“Battle of Wings?” Gialyn wondered if he looked as confused as he felt.
“Fire is no threat to a dragon. They win these battles by slicing at their enemy’s wings. Cuis don’t have the talons for it, or the speed. With luck, they will realise that and retreat.” Brea tilted her head. “Unless, of course, the Kel’madden on their backs have poison arrows.”
Gialyn shook his head incredulously. “So why aren’t we up there helping?”
Brea scoffed. “Do you have any poison arrows? I don’t. If we had not jumped, we would have cost them their only advantage: speed.” For all her talk, she looked scared. Worried, maybe.
Gialyn nodded. She was right, as usual, but he didn’t like it. He watched as Ban and Lyduk climbed higher and higher. The other dragons were circling a clearing not a hundred paces from the ground. Maybe they were thinking twice about engaging. Gialyn hoped so.
Suddenly, Ban and Lyduk spun around. Wings closed tight around their bodies, they plummeted down towards the three still circling below. Then, in a swift change of direction, the three flew up to meet Ban and Lyduk. A second away from clashing, the three billowed out an enormous plume of fire. Gialyn couldn’t help but gasp.
“Don’t worry, they are trying to confuse Ban and Lyduk,” Brea said. “It appears I was right; they don’t want to fight.”
Sure enough, once through the cloud of flame, Ban and Lyduk pulled up short. The other three turned. It seemed to Gialyn as if they were making a run for the coast. Lyduk followed, but slowly, and Ban climbed again. They must be covering each other, or something.
The Gaw – the names Brea had given the enemy dragons – were almost at the border, close to the ridge that ran along the coast, when the Drin turned back. The little dragon – he was quite a bit smaller than Ban or Lyduk – climbed to meet Ban.
“No, you fool. You don’t need to….”
“What is it?” Gialyn asked Brea.
Ealian was shaking his head, too. Or maybe he was Alacin.
“He’s trying to help the others escape,” Ealian answered. Although Gialyn suspected the comment had come from Alacin.
Gialyn scratched his head. “So now what?”
Brea sighed. “The little one is going to engage Ban and Lyduk so that the other two can get away.”
“Well, uh, isn’t that good?” Gialyn asked.
Brea’s face turned to stone. “A dragon dying is never good!” She laced the words
with contempt.
Gialyn swallowed hard. He had never seen a woman turn to rage so quickly. Guilt and shame boiled in his throat. “They don’t have to kill it, though, do they?”
“I doubt he will give them a choice,” Alacin – he must be Alacin – said.
Brea nodded in agreement and then sighed. “They might be able to injure him enough so he will run.” She turned her back on the scene and closed her eyes.
Alacin put his hand on her arm. “I’ll try and stop him,” he said. Then he, too, closed his eyes.
Gialyn turned back to the fight. The small dragon was still climbing towards Ban, who was also climbing, almost as if reluctant to face the Drin. Lyduk was still circling the clearing; probably keeping an eye on the other two Gaw.
Lyduk reached the eastern edge of the clearing. The little dragon spun in the air and dived towards him. Ban followed, but Lyduk was acting as if he hadn’t noticed. The small dragons stretched out; he looked like a huge arrow, an arrow aimed at Lyduk.
“If you’re going to do something, you should hurry,” Gialyn told Alacin.
Alacin breathed in deeply. His face creased and sweat popped up on his forehead. “I’m trying. Be quiet!” he growled through clenched teeth.
Gialyn gulped and turned his gaze back upon the clearing. The little dragon was half way to Lyduk, and still he had not seen him. “Look up, Lyduk, look up.” Gialyn gripped the thorn bush in front of him, hardly noticing as the tiny spikes pierced his skin. “Come on, look up, you stupid dragon.”
Ban was gaining on the little dragon, but it didn’t look to Gialyn as though he would catch up in time. Lyduk was still circling, aimlessly glancing east at where the other two Gaw had all but disappeared over the horizon. Bran flapped his wings again, he was nearly there, but the little dragon was barely seconds away from colliding with Lyduk…
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