Amáne of Teravinea - Black Castle (The Teravinea Series Book 4)

by D. Maria Trimble

  Avano’s eyes opened wide. I couldn’t hold my smirk. He threw his head back and laughed loudly.

  “Bravo, Amáne. You are now a thought transference expert.”

  “Even if it’s only a one-way conveyance,” I grumbled.

  “Come with me. I know you hoped you were done for the night. It is late, but let’s try one more distance before I retire for an uncomfortable rest. Truthfully? A stone in my mattress?”

  I tipped a shoulder up.

  He clapped me on the back and strode out of the inn. I rushed to keep pace with him.

  “Where are we going? This better not take long, Avano. You’re forgetting our mission begins at dawn.”

  “Your mission begins at dawn. I don’t fly until nightfall.”

  “Ugh. You are impossible,” I laughed. “If I were your queen, I’d command, ‘Off with your head.’”

  He missed a step as I kept walking.

  I turned to look back at him and couldn’t decipher his odd expression. “What?”

  “This way,” he said.

  Avano led me to a dragon. A grey. “Amáne, I would like you to meet my dragon, Arai. Her name means ‘cloud.’ Arai please meet Amáne.”

  She dipped her head low as I saluted her and said, “Greetings, Arai, may your flame never extinguish.”

  Avano began to check his dragon’s tack, tightening her girth and inspecting the straps.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “She still has the double saddle on. We’re going on a ride.”

  I gasped. “Oh, oh, oh, no! I’m not flying on a dragon.”

  “We need to do one more test, this time at a real distance.”

  “It would make much more sense if Eshshah goes on the flight and I keep my feet on the ground.”

  “I disagree,” he said as he hoisted himself into the saddle and held his hand down to me.

  “I ... I’m afraid of heights ... I think.”

  “I have the feeling you’re not afraid of much.”

  “What about the Healer. She might not ...”

  “I’ve already cleared it with her.”

  “You’re going to make me get on that dragon, aren’t you?”

  A corner of his mouth lifted.

  I closed my eyes and breathed out.

  How did I ever get into this?

  Maybe it was pride or maybe part of my identity, but something in me surfaced. I would not show cowardice. There would be no backing down. With determination, I climbed on Arai’s foreleg, reached up and locked wrists with Avano. Planting one foot on the footpeg, I pulled myself up and swung my leg over the back of the saddle.

  Avano helped me with the two straps that came up in the middle of the saddle and buckled over my thighs. He handed me a helmet that looked like the same one I’d worn when we sparred. Reaching for the small lever at my temple, he lowered the protective lenses for me.

  “You ready?” he said.

  With my teeth clenched, I said, “No.”

  “Hold on.”

  I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my forehead in his back.

  “You can loosen your grip if you don’t mind.”

  I squeezed tighter.

  I felt Arai’s powerful muscles contract as she gathered her hind legs under her. She opened her expansive wings and thrust off the ground. One powerful downward pump and we shot skyward.

  I screamed. Avano laughed.

  The steady beat of Arai’s wings eased my fear. I relaxed my hold, but left my hands clasped around Avano’s waist. Slowly, I opened my eyes, keeping them directed at his back.

  His dragon spiraled higher. When my pulse reached a more normal rate, I drew my gaze to my right.

  I gasped as I caught sight of the indigo sky filled with stars. It was as if I were a part of the thousand lights dotting the celestial dome around me. A laugh shot straight from my heart. Before I could hold back I let out a whoop of sheer joy.

  Sitting up straight, I let go of Avano and threw my arms in the air.

  “This is nothing short of glorious,” I shouted over the wind.

  Avano’s laughter blew back to me as the air currents whipped my clothes.

  “See if Eshshah can hear you,” he said.

  After a pause, he relayed she heard me clearly.

  “Eshshah, won’t you join us? It’s beautiful and peaceful up here. I couldn’t have imagined this would be so awe-inspiring.”

  No longer afraid, I glanced down. The emerald island grew smaller beneath us. I spotted a small red object heading our way from below. It grew until I recognized Eshshah’s form.

  She leveled out next to us as she and Arai soared wing to wing. Her magnificent glistening scales gave the impression she glowed. Embers in a fire.

  “You’re beautiful, Eshshah,” I said out loud.

  Her golden eye turned toward me. For one split moment a reflection in it made me sad. She blinked and it was gone. In the next breath, she peeled off, diving to the right. Arai followed. After my stomach returned, I realized they were playing a game. I screamed in delight as the two dove and glided in the updrafts. I could have stayed up there all night, but Avano’s voice brought me out of my musing.

  “It’s time to head back.”

  A cold reality froze in my chest. At dawn I would begin the mission for which we had been planning. I sobered instantly.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  I tossed and thrashed through most of the night, tangled in my bedding. Bloodied swords, fiery projectiles and an evil presence in a black robe invaded my dreams. I bolted upright. My eyes frantically searched for the threat, but I found myself alone and presumably safe in a bed. It took some moments to remember where I was. When my trembling subsided, I lay back down, only to face the same scenes. My nightmares woke me several times.

  The night dragged on. Dawn couldn’t come soon enough. At last, the day’s first light filtered into my room. I rubbed my burning eyes, leaped out of bed and grabbed the clothes Mora’ina had left for me. They were similar to what the dragon riders wore. With shaking hands I donned a pair of dark tights and a loose shirt of the same dark color. Before I could pull on a black tunic of a lightweight fabric, Mora’ina entered carrying a leather breastplate.

  Holding it toward me, she said, “Amáne must put next, then that.” She pointed at the tunic I held. “This have scale of dragon. Keep Amáne safe.”

  The breastplate was the same I had used the day before. Beautifully hand-tooled leather, oiled and soft, with dragon scales between the outer and inside layers. I gladly accepted it. Mora’ina helped secure it on before I slipped into the tunic.

  I met the riders in the common room and forced myself, at Braonán’s insistence, to put something in my stomach. Closing my eyes, I willed it to stay down.

  We made our way to the supply cart and the crate in which I would be smuggled into the castle. My palms wouldn’t stay dry, no matter how many times I wiped them on my tunic. Sweat trickled down my back, and not only because of the humidity.

  Relief washed over me when Braonán said I didn’t have to be sealed in the crate just yet. I could sit with the driver until we were closer to the castle. The trek would take almost two hours. The last half hour of which I would ride in the box.

  My hand gripped the hilt of my sword so no one would see it shake. All the dragon riders at the inn, about a dozen, gathered to see me off. They offered various versions of well wishes. Their moods were uplifting. Some gave me a hardy clap on the back. Others joked to make the situation lighter. A few bowed with a respect I didn’t understand.

  Acknowledging their greetings with a nod or a forced smile, I hoped they couldn’t see through my brave façade.

  Avano stepped up to me. “Here’s one more item you may need. It’s a potion from the Healer. It helps to rejuvenate and give you energy. I wish we had more. This is the last of it.” He handed me a small vial filled with a dark liquid. “Put it in this pouch and hang it on your belt.”

  “Is t
hat the horrible stuff Mora’ina made me drink?” I made a face.

  “Yes, the same. You’ll overlook the taste when you have need to use it.”

  I reached for the container and couldn’t hide my trembling hand.

  Avano placed the vial in the pouch for me and attached it to my belt. Then he rested his hands on my shoulders and pressed down. Surprisingly, this had a somewhat calming effect.

  “Amáne, stop pretending you’re not nervous. You’re not doing that great of a job hiding it anyway.”

  I threw him a dark look.

  “You need to know we understand. We’ve all been through dozens of missions like this. Some of the older riders have been through hundreds. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t have some anxiety. We’re all with you. It’ll be over before you know it. We’ll see you tonight. As soon as the first explosion goes off, we’ll take flight. The dragons from the Valley of Dragons have offered their assistance. It should be quite a spectacular showing.” He smiled.

  My spirits lifted. I turned to the group. “I’ll see you all by break of day tomorrow. I’m looking forward to meeting your king.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Avano’s face twitch. Several riders looked away quickly.

  The supply wagon journeyed through the jungle on a narrow cart path. Frequent rains left the road in poor condition. The donkey had no way around the ruts and stones. My teeth jarred with every pothole as I sat with the driver, thankful I didn’t have to endure the entire trip in the crate.

  My stomach lurched when the cart stopped. The driver looked at me and nodded. I closed my eyes, swallowed and returned his nod. We didn’t speak the same language, but we were in complete understanding.

  Climbing to the back of the cart, I lowered myself into the straw-lined crate. I curled on my side and lay in a fetal position, adjusting my sword in its scabbard so the driver could fit the lid on the crate. My boots hid a set of daggers. Once I reached the castle, I would retrieve my glaive and bow.

  Taking a deep jagged breath, I indicated to the driver I’d settled.

  The man fitted the top and proceeded to nail it shut. My anxiety grew. I took in several quick gasps.

  The cart driver stopped hammering and said something.

  Even in another language, I felt his concern. “I’m alright. Go ahead and finish.”

  He drove in a few more nails as I gained control of my panic. The boards allowed in small slivers of light, as well as air. It helped ease my fear of the confined space.

  The road became even more unbearable. As we bounced along, I occupied my mind by going over some fight sequences Avano had shown me. With eyes closed, I mentally went through the steps and thrusts of my sword and my glaive.

  My muscles complained at having to remain in the same cramped position. Small adjustments were all I could manage.

  The supply cart at last came to a halt. I heard talking and whispering of several people in the now-familiar native tongue.

  I braced myself at the sensation of my crate being lifted off the wagon. The men carrying me adjusted the weight as I jostled inside. Then the ride smoothed out and I swayed with their strides. The first leg of this undertaking into the castle would soon be over and I could pour myself into my mission. My whole body itched with anticipation that I’d soon be free of this claustrophobic crate.

  The motion of my container halted.

  We’ve reached the kitchen already? I expected it to be a bit farther.

  Cries of consternation reached my ears. My senses were alerted. Heavy bootsteps sounded around me.

  “We’re inspecting the supplies,” a rough voice declared.

  A fear I could almost taste bit me.

  No, this can’t be happening. They weren’t supposed to be checking for another day or two.

  My hand gripped the hilt of my sword so hard it hurt.

  “Put that crate down, an’ all you savages stand over there.”

  A downward sensation and then a jolt told me my transporters had complied with the command.

  I felt a rap against the box. Something metal struck the side.

  “What’s in here?” a man said. Another thump shook the box. This time lower, like a boot.

  “For King. King want,” said a female voice with the same accent as Mora’ina.

  “I said, what’s in here?”

  “Special. Food from ocean. Need in kitchen soon. To cook. It rot fast. King be very angry.”

  “Open it.”

  Silence.

  A thud, like a fist on flesh, then a yelp.

  “I told ya ta open it.”

  Shuffling feet and scared voices sounded from one direction, a short distance away. My muscles tightened, adrenaline flowed through my body. I breathed in and breathed out slowly as I tried to gather my wits for what I’d hoped would not happen.

  An object struck the top of my crate several times. Between the lid and the walls of the crate a metal bar worked its way in. The wood creaked and splintered as the lid was torn off.

  Ignoring my screaming muscles, I leaped up and out, brandishing my sword. The closest guard went down easily. The native who’d pried off the top dropped to his hands and knees, trying to avoid the fight. I spun and lunged at the next guard as he drew his sword. It was half unsheathed when I ran him through. My hopes fell when several large men charged at me, halberds raised.

  “Keep ’er alive,” shouted one particularly burly man.

  I remained frozen in a fighting stance, my lips pulled back in defiance. But there was little hope of escape.

  The soldiers surrounded me. The tips of their poleaxes inches from my face.

  “Go ahead,” said the burly man. “Gimme a excuse to bloody my blade.”

  I glared at him. He moved his weapon closer to my cheek. I held my position, hoping they couldn’t hear my heart pound in my chest. The man pulled the spike at the end of his halberd across my cheekbone. Trying not to flinch, I clenched my teeth as warm blood ran down my face.

  The man barked out a laugh as he pulled his weapon back. “Welcome back. The king’s gonna be real excited to see ya again, tho’ he ain’t gonna be happy ya killed two o’ his.” He eyed the dead soldiers. “Yer a tough lil’ lady, but don’ be stupid. Drop yer sword. Now.”

  Red hot anger rose in my throat. I swallowed it back.

  He’s right.

  My shoulders slumped. I couldn’t afford to be careless. Not while there was still hope of staying alive.

  This mission cannot fail — failure is not an option.

  I bent over and placed my sword on the ground.

  He laughed. “That’s a smart little warrior, showin’ care for yer weapon. Now kick it out of the way.”

  I shoved it away with my foot.

  Three men moved in and grabbed my arms. They yanked my hands behind me and slapped manacles on my wrists.

  It’s like they expected my arrival.

  I glared at the natives around me to see if I could find a guilty face. But they all stood in horror as the guards led me away. Another tribesman stood in a nearby doorway watching. He spun around and slinked back inside when I caught his eye.

  My stomach twisted violently. Sweat soaked my shirt.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The metal-barred door clanged shut and the bolt fell into place. I sat on the dirt floor with my wrists locked in irons at my back. A quick look about was all I needed to survey my small cell and the damp walls that enclosed me.

  The echo of doors slammed down the corridor. I imagined the natives captured with me found themselves in similar surroundings.

  My captors passed my cell, heading back the way we had come. One of the guards, with long greasy hair, slowed his pace and leered as he passed. I nearly retched.

  I waited until their bootsteps faded down the corridor.

  Now’s my chance to test Aperio’s key.

  Bending my wrist around the irons, I bit my lip at the pain of the metal pressing against my flesh. I persevered until I
withdrew the dragonscale key from the hidden pocket in my sleeve.

  Bootsteps echoed in the passageway. I froze. Someone headed back toward my cell. Palming the key, I listened and watched the cell door.

  The greasy-haired guard who’d eyed me earlier, slipped into sight outside my cell. His lips turned up in a sickening sneer, an evil glint lit his eye. Letting himself in, he closed the cell door behind him. He took slow deliberate steps toward me. I scooted away until my back pressed against the wall.

  “Ya don’ remember ol’ Gahn, do ya?”

  He laughed. “Ah, yer still feelin’ that fall ’int ya?”

  I stood up.

  “Well then, let me tell ya where we left off. Ya was ’bout ready to show me how much ya loved me.”

  Gahn moved in close, his stinking body pushed against mine. He gripped my jaw in his filthy hand and leaned in. I tried to turn my face away, but he held tight.

  Behind my back, I frantically worked the key into the lock on the manacles.

  “Aperio,” I whispered.

  He stopped before his lips reached my mouth.

  “Wud ya say?”

  “I said, Aperio.” My voice raised in defiance. The manacles slid off my wrists and became my weapon.

  Mentally, I reached for Eshshah. A surge of strength flowed into my body, seemingly from out of nowhere.

  Eshshah?

  I shook off my surprise at the intensity of power, then gathered myself and swung my iron-covered fists up into the miscreant’s chin. The lecherous look on his face dropped. He flew backwards, landing hard on his back.

  As he gasped for air, I leaped toward him and yanked the sword from his scabbard.

  I spun away and faced him, raising the sword. But I hesitated.

  Fear, then anger swept across his features. Before I could strike, he was swift to his feet, drawing a dagger in a fluid motion. He slashed at me. I slid to the side and parried.

  Gahn continued his advance, jabbing and slicing. The space was small. With his dagger, he fought too close for me to make any offensive moves with the sword. I kept up my defense, evading and blocking his shots.

  At last I achieved some distance and found an opening. Before he could thrust again, I sliced my blade across his face. He stumbled. I wasted no time running the blade through his throat. Warm blood spattered on me.