A Gossamer Lens (The Legend of Vanx Malic Book 10)

by M. R. Mathias

  The most surprising thing Vanx learned was that there was a colony of identical trees, growing in a circular cluster around a great sward. This was in a forest on the distant continent that crazy old wizard was from. Those interconnected trees were the oldest living thing on this world.

  He didn’t read it in the book, but he felt it in his heart. The last gem-seed would be cracked there, thus quickening the nexus of roots below the copse of Great Carpi Ultura, as the book called them.

  The baby King of the Fae, Chervil Longroot, might consider relocating his current fairy colony because humanity had found Saint Elm’s Deep, and they’d had to douse that Heart Tree in molten silver to save it from the Hoar Witch.

  The loss of Gallarael slipped into his mind again. He’d thought her dead before, for several days, when he and Poops were stranded in Harthgar with that crazy old wizard. That shaggy old bastard was the one who set them on this course, but he wasn’t to blame.

  Vanx remembered the old man’s stack of books in the librarium under the shattered tower there. He hadn’t been able to read those, and he wasn’t certain, but he thought one of the languages written in the Tome of Arbor might be the same, or very similar, to the language those had been written in.

  The towers used to bind the world together and, now that they were destroyed, all these Heart Trees needed quickening to rebind it, so Vanx figured that before the towers, the trees had held it all together in the first place.

  Once he could no longer use them, the Paragon destroyed the towers. But had he created them? Or had he just learned to use them. They’d always had some sort of alienness about them. For a long while, Vanx wondered what sort of person King Richard had been before the addiction to dour, and the elixir he’d extracted from the tears, had consumed him.

  He wondered if they still made the stuff in Harthgar. Surly a portion of the Trigon’s elders still maintained some sense of order among those who were left?

  Gallarael’s loss kept bringing tears, but curiosity started to take over his mind. After losing Gallarael once, and then really losing Pyra, whom he’d loved more than any of them, save for Poops, his grief wasn’t as substantial as it might have been. That or, like Chelda, he was just getting used to losing friends.

  He had to wipe a fat tear from his cheek then, for Gal had been his lover and a most loyal friend, as well.

  For a long time, he stared aimlessly beyond what his eyes were seeing and he wondered who, why, or maybe what, could have created those towers and why they would do such a thing.

  Those books, and the controlling pedestals, and that fancy glowing globe, were all part of the tower system. He understood the structures under that tower had been built to house students. This made him rethink the idea that the Paragon jackass had created them. The towers were more complex than that tear-drunk bastard ever was.

  But the Trigon? He’d wondered before if it was they who used the Paragon, or if it had been he using them. The massive shapeshifter had certainly been more powerful than the Trigon wizards were, but all it wanted was the tears of dragons and to destroy anything that might destroy it first. The Trigon had a multitude of financial interests that wouldn’t have even given the sick, oversized shapeshifter a concern.

  “Hey, Zeezle!” Vanx stood. With Poops at his side, he made his way over to where his friend was stretched out.

  “Do you have the Mirror of Portents I’m about to change with you?” Vanx asked as he sat. He’d seen what the reflective shard had shown him get changed by someone’s deliberate action so many times, he’d changed the artifact’s name. The amazing wyrm his friend coaxed had gone off to feed. It was too big to rest on the ship for any length of time so it would have to fly for a few days straight. Vanx hoped it was getting its belly full.

  “I do.” Zeezle tossed Vanx a bag and indicated that it was inside. “It showed me the stoning and the end of the world just after you were killed, but I never thought to try and get here so much sooner.” He leaned up on an elbow, his yellow eyes full of sadness. “Had I, I might have saved her. I’m sorry, brother.”

  “It isn’t your fault.” Vanx shook his head. He was interested in what he would see in the Mirror of Portent.

  Just before Vanx saw what he saw, Zeezle said something that made his heart forget all his current pain and anguish. His thumper raced inside his chest as he nodded.

  “You know my ornery drake can carry the both of us?” Zeezle had said.

  Vanx couldn’t contain his excitement. They were about to fly, on dragonback, to Gossolan ahead of the others.

  Chapter

  Thirteen

  No matter how many men went in.

  In all the years passed by.

  The Wildwood swallows everyone,

  who goes too far inside.

  – A song from Dyntalla

  Poops didn’t like the idea of being left behind, until Moonsy and Chelda started giving him comfort. After that, he relished the attention and, had they not been linked by wizardly familiarity, the dog might have forgotten Vanx was even leaving.

  Vanx chuckled. He was pleased that the pup was no longer angry with him. He reached up to give Chelda a hug, and then stooped to hug Moonsy as well.

  “Do not lose the glaive, Vanx of Malic,” Moonsy said through her tears.

  Vanx wiped one of them off her cheek and marveled at the idea that she looked like a young girl, but was more than thrice his age.

  “I just hope we don’t have to use it.” This came from Zeezle, who was trying to get the dragon used to the idea of carrying two riders instead of one.

  Vanx dropped to a knee and joined Chelda in giving Poops attention. “Tell Ronzon to drop the Zythians in Little Haven, then come right for the island,” he said. “If we find what we are after before you get there, we will find you.”

  “You’d better.” Chelda glared at him. “I started this with you, and I’ll finish it, or finish you.”

  The last was said in jest, Vanx knew, but the knot that formed on his biceps when she slugged him hurt like the devil.

  Vanx gave Poops one last hug and told the dog to stick with Moonsy and Chelda.

  Don’t fuck with the birds, the dog thought back to him, causing him to leave them with a genuine smile.

  Once they were mounted, and Vanx was situated, the dragon took three awkward strides and leapt into the air.

  Vanx’s head was whipped backwards so hard that when he came forward, his chin hit his chest and he bit his tongue. He’d forgotten about getting airborne, and landing. It didn’t matter, once they rose above the forest, and the wyrm used the rushing air to lift it high in the sky, Vanx’s blood felt like lightning.

  For a long time, he let the rush of it all soak in. He got lost in the feeling of the wind and drifted.

  He still had to fight thoughts of losing Gallarael and Master Ruuk so suddenly, but when they came, he needed to only look down at the bright sunlit sea, far beneath the clouds they were flying through, to forget about them.

  Eventually, the joy wore off, and the urge to piss began to steal his comfort. He thought about what he’d seen in the Mirror of Portent then. He’d been with Zeezle and Chelda, but Moonsy wasn’t there. They stood before what had to be the copse of Great Carpi Ultura, and they prepared to fight for their lives, but against what, Vanx never saw. Whatever it was, its shadow was big enough to eclipse the sun.

  Not all dragons will tolerate you, Vanx heard Pyra’s voice. Or maybe it was the voice of his goddess. He couldn’t tell, but he heard the words nonetheless.

  Was the voice referring to the vision in the mirror, or the dragon on Spider island.

  It irked him that there was no need to try and change the portent this time. If they were there, together, then they were all still alive, at that point. They would have to defeat whatever it was if they were to keep the world from spinning apart. The passages he’d read had told him about more than just the trees. Even now, they needed to hurry. Quickening the sapphire spruce had only earned
them some time.

  They had to quicken another gem before they could battle whatever it was that was guarding the copse of Great Carpi Ultura so they could root the last one.

  The splattering of warm rain on his face brought Vanx out of his reverie. It wasn’t a heavy shower, but the sound of it splashing against them only served to make him need to piss that much more.

  “Will he land in the sea?” Vanx asked.

  “He may leave us there for half a day if we land, Vanx.” Zeezle chuckled over his shoulder. “I told you to get it all out before we left.”

  “I just need to piss, Zeeze,” Vanx grumbled. “I’ve missed riding Pyra so much that I’d forgotten how uncomfortable it can be. At least my arse doesn’t feel like it’s roasting. Pyra’s scales were as hot as coals, especially when she was angry.”

  Just piss, Zeezle voiced through the ethereal. But scoot back a little bit first.

  Vanx leaned over awkwardly, and tried getting his manhood out of his britches. Even though he did, he found he was pissing in the wind. The whole time Zeezle was laughing at him. Vanx tried kicking his friend, but nearly fell off the dragon when he did.

  After he resituated himself, and let the rain rinse him as best as he could, he poked a finger in Zeezle’s ribs and laughed with his friend.

  Why does he not have a name yet? Vanx asked.

  It is Aveerialulathon, Zeezle responded. I haven’t thought of a suitable nickname yet.

  His scales are azure, Zeez, Vanx laughed. Are you that uncreative? Call him Avz, short for azure and Averialatition.

  It is Aveerialulathon, Zeezle corrected, but was nodding, and looking closely at the dagon’s scales now. Avz it is, Zeezle voiced to Vanx, but then spoke with the dragon in an ethereal conversation Vanx was excluded from.

  Avz says you shouldn’t have pissed on him, Zeezle laughed again. There is an atol right over there.

  Vanx saw where Zezzle was pointing.

  “Have him land!” Vanx was so angry he yelled the words. “I need to wring it out of my shirt and make sure the Tome of Arbor is dry.”

  Laughing the whole way, Zeezle urged the dragon to land. Once Vanx slid to the sandy beach of the seven palm-treed island, Vanx decided that, even though his thighs were sore, he still missed riding a dragon, as much as he missed anything.

  Chapter

  Fourteen

  The witch is cold and evil

  her heart is black and hard.

  Hair like snakes and fangs for teeth

  her claws are frozen shards.

  – Frosted Soul

  When they finally saw Spider Island, it was late in the day. Vanx figured Avz could land them right on the doorstep of the Goss’s strange temple and leave them.

  Vanx warned Zeezle of the coral colored wyrm and the various types of deadly spiders that had been battling when he’d last left the island. Vanx could tell Zeezle was getting nervous. One of the smaller red arachnoids had nearly ended Zeezle here once.

  So, the blue spiders are fighting the red ones, and the bigger pale colored ones were just joining the battle when you left? Zeezle, asked. I wonder which side they are helping?

  I’ve wondered the same, Vanx answered. When we left, they looked to be killing all of the others, but we are about to see for ourselves. Tell Avz we need to get to the southern end of the island, and that there is plenty of room for him to land right in front of the Gossolan.

  What is it? The Gossolan? Zeezle asked.

  It is a temple entrance carved into the mountain, hidden behind a waterfall, and there were more spiders inside than I could ever imagine, but they are the blue ones, and the Goss is marked blue. We should be safe there.

  Should be? What is that? Zeezle had seen the coral wyrm’s lazing stone and was pointing at it. Avz says he is curious.

  Tell him he can investigate it after he sets us at the falls. Vanx was curious about the attraction, too. Tell him to coax that other dragon my way, if you don’t mind.

  Good idea. Zeezle nodded and started another private conversation with Avz.

  The idea that he’d just said that to Zeezle, and that Zeezle was asking Avz to talk a dragon into taking him as a rider, was all consuming. Thoughts of riding the magnificent coral colored wyrm over the mountains near Saint Elm’s Deep, or gliding across the wavetops on smooth, steady wing beats, kept him from dwelling on Gallarael or the uncertain task ahead. But eventually, even in those wondrous thoughts, he found he imagined riding the creature into battle against some terrible thing standing between he and the copse of Great Carpi Ultura trees in some distant land.

  The sudden shift of momentum slung him out of sleep. He saw that the sun was getting low in the sky and that they were circling to land. Vanx noticed that some of the trees still had webs spun around dead branches, but not nearly as many as there might have been.

  There was a strange scent in the air, and he wished he could tap Poops’s senses from across the great distance between them, but he couldn’t. Then, after a moment, he decided he was glad he couldn’t smell the full potential of foulness in the air.

  After Avz let them slide off his slick scales, in a small open field right beside the waterfall, the dragon left them to go feed and find a place to rest.

  Vanx cast a bright light spell to scare away anything that might have been brave enough to resist fleeing the dragon. And then he saw the cause of the stench.

  There were decaying spider carcasses laying on the flatter surfaces, and where the trees kept them from tumbling down the mountainside, there were even more.

  “I wonder what it smelled like before the rain?” Zeezle asked.

  “I don’t want to know.” Vanx pulled his collar up over his nose but let it fall when he found he smelled like wet dog, which was just as bad as the rot.

  “Can you make your light any brighter Vanx?” Zeezle asked jokingly.

  “I learned this trick from the elves,” he returned. “If you make it so bright nothing can see after they glance your way, you almost always have the advantage.”

  “Unless the foe is blind.”

  Zeezle was smart like that, and Vanx just shook his head for his friend was right.

  “These spiders all seem to have hundreds of eyes,” Vanx offered, as he led them to the temple. He couldn’t help but notice the intricately carved columns with all the interwoven skulls and spiders worked into the design. “I doubt any of them are blind, but I must have been when I was here before. It was daylight, which is why I guess I didn’t notice all of the stonework. Or maybe because the Goss was inside me?”

  “It goes inside you?” Zeezle asked. “This is masterful artistry, no doubt, but what is all this Goss stuff about? What are we doing?”

  “We are doing the goddess’s bidding. Or saving the world? I don’t know.” Vanx stopped right before the short set of stairs that led up into the mountain. “When the spires were destroyed, it threw everything off.”

  “I know this, Vanx. What are we doing? Right now, I mean. Are we going into a place full of spiders to fight? Where is the gem-seed we are after?”

  These were good questions, and Vanx sat down on the first step, rummaged through his satchel, and pulled out both the Tome of Arbor and the looking glass case.

  He said the words needed open the carved wooden box and saw that its design was the same as the carvings around him. He glanced inside and, while there was no web spun lens, the Goss leapt onto his hand.

  It didn’t submerge into his skin this time. Instead, it scurried up his sleeve to his shoulder, where it stopped and spun itself a web harness to keep it in place.

  Vanx shut the case and put it away, but when he started to put away the Tome of Arbor, he sensed the little blue spider urging him to open it.

  To Vanx’s surprise, it opened on a page that had a map drawn on it. This seemed ideal until Vanx saw the skull and crossbone warning sketch near the circular room where a tiny jewel had been drawn.

  Chapter

  Fifteen

&n
bsp; Underneath the apple tree,

  she set fire to my loins.

  When she was done, she had to run,

  and she took off with my coins.

  – Parydon Cobbles

  “It was full of spiders the last, time, Zeez,” Vanx explained as they entered the structure through the hole left from when Chelda broke the slab with the human shape etched into it. “Most of them poured out to fight. I don’t think all of them fled through Chelda’s hole, though. I don’t know what happened to the rest.”

  The Goss stirred at his shoulder again, and Vanx understood what it was expressing even though the ideas were not formed in a language.

  “The spider says that, since the barriers were let down,” Vanx tried to put the Goss’s thoughts to words, “and the war has been waged, the natural balance of arachnia has been restored.”

  “The spider says?” Zeezle’s laugh was full of sarcasm.

  “Just follow me.” Vanx sighed. He fought back thoughts of Gallarael and knew they needed to get on with this. He’d studied the map the tome had revealed to him and, as he followed it from memory, he found that there were several triggers and pitfalls he would have never seen had the Goss not warned him as they came upon them.

  Ultimately, they found the circular room from the map and, in its center, was a white marble hand, from just above the elbow, sticking out of the filthy tiled floor. It held a citrine gem-seed, as if the owner of the arm was looking at it closely, or presenting it to someone. Vanx had seen the strange, dangerous hands in other gem-seed locations.

  They were tricky.

  He tried to stop Zeezle from just strolling over and grabbing it but found his warning just a half a heartbeat too late.

  As soon as Zeezle grabbed the sparkling yellow citrine, the marble hand reached down and grabbed his ankle.