“Shape-shifting?” Oraeyn asked.
“Dragons are the oldest and most powerful of all the beings in the realm; therefore, we know the art of shape-shifting, or, to put it simply, the art of taking on a different form,” Rhendak explained. “When we went below ground to come and live in Krayghentaliss, some of the dragons did not want to come with us, so they chose to shape-shift to human form and remain above-realm. We called them the ‘lost.’ Yole is one of ours who was born above-realm and was never told of his true identity. Of course, since he did not know, neither did he have any control over his power to shape-shift, and when he did shape-shift to appear in his true form, my guess is that he would only remember it as if it had been a dream.”
Yole had recovered enough to comprehend what Rhendak was saying, and he spoke, “My flying dreams! They were real?”
Rhendak nodded. “Welcome home.”
Yole seemed to steady himself and he stood a little straighter. His face was still pale, and Brant kept his hand on the boy’s shoulder to help support him.
“Now you have a choice, Yole,” Rhendak said, “you can stay here with us and learn how to shape-shift to your true form…”
Yole cut him off, “No! I want to stay with my friends.”
“As I said, you can make that choice, now that you know who you are,” Rhendak said.
Just then, Kamarie caught the implication in his words. “You’re not going to help us!” she cried out in distress, forgetting her promise to herself not to make a scene.
Rhendak eyed her sternly. “I did not say that we were not going to help you.”
“But you gave Yole a choice, to stay down here with you or to go back with us, that sounds like you’re not coming to help us! What about your promise? I don’t understand!”
“LET ME FINISH, CHILD!” Rhendak roared. The room resounded with his voice, shaking Kamarie’s confidence. He paused, letting the echoes die, then he continued, “No, we are not going to come above-realm with you and drive the enemy away by sheer force. The Elders and myself have decided that we cannot do that, we have too many problems down here of our own. But, we will give you this,” Rhendak produced a silvery-green set of shepherd’s pipes.
Yole gasped in awe and gazed at the beautiful pipes with a deep longing in his amber eyes. Oraeyn suddenly felt his sword hum, he jumped and put his hand on the hilt, trying to make it stop, but it was too late. Rhendak looked straight at him and there was a curious glint in his eyes, and then he nodded but said nothing.
“What does that do?” Kamarie asked, sounding somewhat abashed and properly chastised at the rebuke.
Rhendak looked at her kindly in a way that said he did not hold her hasty words against her. “It is a call,” he said, “if, during the battle, you should need their magic, then blow on the pipes. Do not worry about what melody to use, the instrument will choose its own, and the help you seek will be found, either from within or without, depending on the need.”
Kamarie’s face turned sober as she took the pipes Rhendak handed to her and then she gave them to Dylanna for safekeeping. She was grateful, but she was also more than a little discouraged. She had found the dragons, not an easy feat, and they were not coming to help. They were going to remain underground. They were fulfilling their promise, not by rushing to their aid and breathing fire down their enemies’ throats, but rather by giving them another trinket.
“If I recall correctly, the last time the Dark Country invaded, the humans stopped it all by themselves, with the help of a special gift.” Rhendak stared straight at Oraeyn as he said this, but no one else seemed to notice.
Oraeyn shifted uncomfortably under the piercing gaze. The dragon seemed to be waiting for him to offer some explanation for the sword he carried at his side. Oraeyn wished that he could give some reasonable explanation, but he realized that he had none, other than the explanation staring him in the face, which was one he could not, or would not, yet believe. Rhendak understood the silence and pressed no further. He nodded once, indicating their interview was ended.
“Thank you for your generous gift,” Dylanna said, “and for your hospitality.”
Rhendak bowed his head and looked straight into Dylanna’s eyes, recalling an old friend. “You are welcome any time,” he said graciously, then he turned directly to Brant and took the full measure of the man and added, “you are needed above-realm, Iarrdek will take you to the exit you desire.”
The travelers thanked the King of the dragons again and left the Great Hall. On their way out they said good-bye to Rhynellewhyn. She seemed to be sad that they were leaving and wished them good-bye softly.
“I hope we will meet again,” Kamarie said, wishing she could have gotten to know the pegasus a little better.
“I hope so too,” Rhynellewhyn said; then with a shake of her head, she galloped up a tunnel and out of sight.
Iarrdek appeared from a side tunnel and stood before them, looking happy to see them again. “Where would you like to go?”
“Well, we have to get our horses at some point,” Kamarie said, thinking hard, “but we should also get back to the castle, we might be needed. I hate to leave Tor, though.”
“Queen Zara asked me to find her sister in the Harshlands and request her help,” Brant said.
“She did?” Dylanna asked. “She said nothing to me about it.”
Kamarie frowned. “I’d love to see Aunt Leila again, and if she’s a wizardess I can understand why Mother wants us to ask her for help, but can’t you contact her with magic or something?”
Dylanna shook her head. “Not from here, and your mother is out of practice. I’m sure she tried.”
Iarrdek spoke, interrupting Kamarie’s reply. “If I could offer some advice: the place where you think you are needed the most, is, more often than not, the place where you are needed the least.”
Kamarie brightened. “Well that’s simple enough,” she exclaimed, “I think that my parents need me to warn them, but they probably already know about the danger. So, in all likelihood, we are not needed at the castle as much as we might be needed somewhere else.”
She looked to Iarrdek to see if she had solved his riddle correctly, but he merely inclined his head and asked, “So, which exit?”
“We would like to go back to Pearl Cove, if that is possible,” Dylanna said, very decisively.
“Then to Pearl Cove it is,” Iarrdek said, “but the journey is two days, at the least.”
Kamarie gave a resigned sigh, and they followed after Iarrdek quietly.
❖ ❖ ❖
The darkness was coming, and she could not stop it. Calyssia sat atop the bluff on the edge of her domain and stared out to sea. The Soothing Sea was rolling peacefully and whispering to itself. It looked so beautiful that it made Calyssia’s heart ache. She knew she would return there, soon. Her strength was failing her, and the weakness that crept through her body made it necessary for her to spend much of each day sitting still. Walking from one end of the Cove to the other was now a feat that caused her to become short of breath and she found herself stumbling after only a few steps.
She looked young and frail, sitting upon the dune. She had her knees tucked up under her chin, and her delicate white hands were clasped around her legs. Her pale green eyes had a far away look in them, and her long blond hair was blowing gently in the breeze.
“Milady?” a deep voice asked timidly from behind her.
Calyssia turned and looked at the man, “Yes, Wessel?” She sighed involuntarily.
“The enemy is coming here?”
She studied him, he had been one of those who had come seeking glory, and yet he had chosen to stay and remain un-honored, deciding that peace was more to be prized than fame. She wondered what would become of them all. She cared deeply for each one of the men and women who had come to her home. But those who had come were not timid, skulking creatures; they were strong, and they all knew the joy of hard work completed together. If
she ceased to be, if the Pearl Cove ceased to exist, she was confident they would be able to take care of themselves.
“Yes, Wessel, they are coming, they are coming, woe to us all.”
“You can’t stop them.” It was really more of a statement than a question, but Calyssia answered it anyway.
“No, I cannot stop them.”
“So what will happen to us?”
“I do not know,” Calyssia said truthfully. “I have decided to rejoin the sea. You and your companions have a little time. If you run, you will survive and build new lives for yourselves and others. Perhaps you will be the ones to change Aom-igh, to teach the others what I have taught you.”
“Milady?”
“Or perhaps the outside world has something to teach you.”
“I see.”
They lapsed into a silent camaraderie. The two of them, so different, sitting amiably upon the dune-top; the tall, pale woman who looked as though a stronger breeze might carry her away, and the short, sturdy man, darkened by hard work in the heat of the Dragon’s Eye. They sat together until the Eye had passed overhead and disappeared behind the horizon. The twinkling stars began to peer out of the dark expanse of sky, and the waves far below them rolled and broke on the rocks. The slight breeze carried a fine mist up to Calyssia and Wessel from the breaking waves. The tiny droplets of water bathed their faces. Calyssia breathed deeply of the salt smell of the ocean, and she smiled, content to sit in silence.
“You are dying,” Wessel said, sadness in his voice. “That is why you cannot stop them.”
Calyssia said nothing.
“The barrier that protects us?”
“Will fail before the morning, it is all I can give you, my strength is gone, my magic is already fading.”
“Nothing will be left?”
“I do not know. My life, my strength, they are tied into the magic. I do not know how to make the barrier stand on its own.”
“Is there anything we can do for you?”
Calyssia smiled. “Fight. Live. Do not mourn for me, for I am going to the sea.”
Another long silence stretched between then. Finally, Wessel stood, “I will go and tell the others to make ready.”
“Tell them not to fear, and tell them to stand together,” Calyssia said, her voice seeming to echo the sounds of the rolling sea.
Wessel bowed slightly and turned to go. There was all the deep sorrow of farewell within her words, and he found himself blinking back tears. She was here with them still, but he knew that in her heart, their Great Lady had already left them and the Cove far behind. He did not know how the Cove People would manage without her, they had all come to love the Keeper, and now she would be leaving them.
Calyssia could hear the footsteps in the sand as he left, and she blinked back the tears that sprang to her eyes. The wanderer had come and his coming heralded the end of the Cove. But the secret that Calyssia carried with her was this: she was older than her years. Maintaining the Cove had drained her of strength and life, what life she had left when Graldon passed. She had begun to die long before, even had the wanderer not arrived, even had this enemy never threatened their shores, Calyssia could no longer hold up the barrier. She had hours, perhaps a day, and then her strength would leave her completely and she would die. Although she dreaded the alternative, it was the only one left to her. Her mother’s people... the stories her father had told her of that cold, uncaring folk sent chills up her spine, but perhaps... just perhaps... she set her face towards the sea. She had no wish to die.
With heavy heart and strong resolve, Wessel brought news to the inhabitants of Pearl Cove. The Lady was leaving, the darkness was coming, and they had to ready themselves for war.
❖ ❖ ❖
The travelers stopped to sleep for the night. Now that they had a guide, in the form of Iarrdek, they also had someone along who was able to tell them whether it was day or night, and when it was time to stop or sleep. They did not have any idea how the gryphon could keep track of the position of the Dragon’s Eye from underground, but no one could argue with him about it either.
They had been traveling at a slower pace than before and had more time to notice and study their surroundings. As the novelty and frightfulness of the tunnels wore off, it was easier to see and understand how the myth-folk were able to find their way around. There were many subtle differences between the tunnels and the caves that they passed through, and at each junction of tunnels, there seemed to be directions etched into the rock floor and filled with glowing ember stones. Iarrdek explained that these maps were relatively easy to follow if one knew how to read them; he also told them that he personally had most of the tunnels memorized, and therefore did not need to even bother with the maps anymore.
As they unrolled their blankets and got ready to bed down for the night, not much was said. Each of them was wrapped up in their own thoughts, and all of them were anxious to see daylight again. Oraeyn was surprised at how easy it was to get tired in these tunnels, and he wondered briefly if it had anything to do with the lack of air circulation or the absence of light from the Dragon’s Eye. As these thoughts passed through his head, something tickled at the back of his mind, something that was important, something that he ought to remember. He did not ponder it for very long, however, since he was asleep almost the instant that he laid down.
Iarrdek allowed them to sleep for a few hours, and then he woke them up again. He was very impressed by the man, Brant, though he did not comment on it. No sooner had Iarrdek lifted his head from his great paws than Brant had been on his feet, fully alert. The others woke fairly quickly as well, except for Yole. Dragon though he was, Yole was also very much a young boy, and convincing him that it was time to get up proved to take some doing. Finally, they were all awake and alert. Iarrdek provided them with food. Then they were on their way once more, traveling through the huge, continuous tunnels.
Oraeyn was more restless than ever. He kept an eye on Brant, trying to imitate the man’s easy stride and appearance of infinite patience. Ever since the occurrence with the Dark Warrior in the hayloft, Brant had become Oraeyn’s hero. He tried, as subtly as he could, to imitate the man’s every move. It was more difficult than Brant made it look, to saunter lazily along appearing as though he had absolutely nothing better to do, especially when he was so anxious to do something, anything, other than continue wandering around underground. He longed for a challenge, a break of pace. He wanted nothing more than to escape from this never-ending pattern of sleeping, eating, and walking: endless walking.
Kamarie’s thoughts lay along a similar path as Oraeyn’s. In a desperate attempt to break the monotony of their journey, Kamarie suddenly began singing. The tune was light and cheerful and familiar. It was a children’s song with an easy tune to follow. As soon as she began singing, Yole joined her, and within moments, they were all singing along, even Iarrdek.
Cheerily we all dance
Beneath the Dragon’s Eye
Me and you together:
Children of Aom-igh.
Come circle round
And dance with us.
We work hard together
Joining to forge ahead
Toiling till Toreth-rise
And then we rest our heads.
Come circle round
And dance with me.
Come dance the dance
Of our fair land
Come join your hearts,
Come join your hands.
Come circle round
And dance with me,
Enter our dance
Come join your hands.
The music had the desired affect upon the group; it lightened their hearts. There was a spring in their step as they walked along, singing cheerfully. For a little while they were able to forget that they were miles underground, they forgot there was a war brewing in Aom-igh, forgot the dragons had declined to give them the help that they needed. Instead they dreamed of green grass
and tall trees, of farmers tilling their fields and soldiers practicing their swordsmanship. They were even able to feel the wind on their faces and hear birds chirping around them.
Suddenly Brant broke the cheerful mood by stopping short and putting up a hand. “Listen!”
The others stopped singing and strained their ears to listen for the sound Brant had heard. For a moment, they heard nothing, and then their ears picked up the faint sound of a quick and steady hoofed animal following them at a very fast pace. Kamarie wondered how Brant had heard the faint sound with all of them singing.
“Someone is trying to catch up with us,” Iarrdek muttered. “We will wait for them.”
They waited, tension and questions growing as the hoof-beats came nearer. Soon they could make out the figure of the creature that was following them; it was a pegasus.
“Rhynellewhyn!” Kamarie exclaimed, recognizing the gentle animal first.
“Kamarie, all of you!” Rhynellewhyn gasped, slightly out of breath. “Something terrible has happened and some have pointed the finger of blame on you. I came to warn you as quickly as I could. You are in great danger!”
“Slow down, take a deep breath, what has happened?” Iarrdek asked.
Rhynellewhyn did as Iarrdek suggested and started over, “Shortly after you left, Shalintess was killed.”
Iarrdek stared at her. “What?”
“Who is Shalintess?” Oraeyn asked.
“How do you know she was killed and it wasn’t a natural death?” Brant asked sharply.
“Who is blaming us for what?” Yole demanded, referring to the first thing that Rhynellewhyn had said.
Rhynellewhyn swung her head back and forth between the questions. A wild look was in her normally quiet, calm eyes. Kamarie stayed silent, and then she went up and put a soothing hand on the creature’s neck.
She spoke softly. “All right, Shalintess has been killed. Who is Shalintess?”
King's Warrior (The Minstrel's Song Book 1) Page 18