Hushed, Tales of Ryca, Book 2

by Shereen Vedam

  Thyel laughed. “An exceptional benefit indeed. I wonder what happened on Isa when this temple was shut down and humans no longer went there?”

  “Isa, too, has human villages. I was born in one. My people are not like yours. We do not have cities like Tibor or magical guilds. Most of us rarely survive to adulthood.”

  “Because of the dragons or the giants?” Tamara asked.

  “Both. The giants dislike humans as much as they do dragons. They stomp through our villages and savagely murder all who are too weak to get out of their way. They steal our produce and take our young people to work as slaves in their homes. Our only protection is the dragons. They may not particularly like each other, or us, but they especially hate the giants.”

  “Why?” Thyel asked.

  “Because the giants take great fun in throwing boulders at them when they fly by.”

  “A most dangerous place to live,” Tamara said, rethinking going to Isa at all. “I’m surprised any of you survived.”

  “We stay far away from the plains where the giants live. We prefer the foothills by the mountain ranges which the dragons call home. All the human villages vie to produce a child that could bond with a dragon. For then they can be assured of the protection of the dragons and their riders.”

  “As your village was,” Tamara was starting to understand the cultural dynamics that troubled Isa.

  “Yes. Though before the Rycans came, most of us hid from the dragons, too. It is rare among my people to be able to dragon speak. It was the Rycans who built temples on Isa, organized the calling ceremonies, and formalized the bonding rites with the dragons.” He paused and silence settled onto the shattered room like falling dust. “We were returning to those dark times,” Fane finally said in a quiet voice, “with dragons turning their backs on us and the giants raiding our villages when my master came for me.”

  Tamara didn’t pursue the topic further. She could imagine what might have happened on Isa since Fane left his home. He had been on Ryca now for a good five years. In that time, would his home and family have survived without the protection of dragon riders?

  * * *

  The low tunnel Jarrod and Skye travelled through finally opened into another cave. Able to stand, he turned to help her rise.

  “Watch your step,” he warned, holding her back when she would have gone forward. Her Light ball swerved in front of them to show that not two feet from where they stood, the ground dropped off sharply. The Light ball then flew across the deep chasm.

  “It’s a good thing you didn’t pick my aunt to come with you.” Skye shook dirt out of her long blond hair. “Tamara would never have survived that last part of the journey. Even I felt trapped in there.”

  “Without you along, we wouldn’t have found the Quinlin stone.” Jarrod pointed across the cave where Skye’s seeker Light had come to rest against the wall. A large golden gem rested in a depression near it, its edges glinting in the darkness.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she breathed.

  “And unreachable. There is no pathway to that ledge where the stone rests. Even if I could transport myself over, there’s no outcropping for me to stand on.”

  “Then what do we do?”

  “The keeper of the stone must have somehow managed to get over there to place the stone in its spot,” Jarrod murmured. “Perhaps there’s another way to get across.”

  He indicated the oppressive darkness and Skye obligingly sent a second ball of Light speeding up to the craggy ceiling above to highlight the pit of darkness below.

  “There’s no way to get to the stone,” Skye said, disappointment deep in her tone.

  “Look over there.” He pointed to a hole well above where the stone rested. “I can transport myself into there, and reach the stone from above.”

  Unhooking his pack, he set it down, and willed himself to the higher ledge. Once over there, behind him, a tunnel led off down a side corridor. This place was a maze. They might eventually have found their way here, but his special ability to travel where he pleased had helped bypass any traps laid on the way here.

  He lay flat on the floor, waved a hand to Skye to show he was fine, and leaned an arm down, feeling along the wall for the opening below.

  “To your left,” Skye shouted. “Lower.”

  Jarrod inched forward, bracing his feet against the walls and slipped a little more out of the opening. A stone brushed past his arm and tumbled down. He listened, waiting several heartbeats before it crashed to the ground. A long fall.

  His left foot slipped and he slid forward.

  Skye shouted a warning.

  Jarrod held himself in place with his free hand. Once he was steadied, he shouted, “I’m fine.”

  “Be careful!”

  As if he needed that reminder. “I can’t see the stone. Guide my hand.”

  “Jarrod, maybe I should be there with you, to hold onto your feet, so you don’t fall into the chasm.”

  The soil slipped beneath him. He didn’t have much time before the whole floor disintegrated and swept him and the Quinlin to the bottom of the abyss.

  “Is my hand close to the stone?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Which way?” The soil beneath his right foot gave and sent him sliding far enough for his head and shoulders to jut out of the opening. He braced both feet apart again to stop the movement.

  “Jarrod!”

  “Be quick. We’ve little time.”

  “Directly to your left. Yes, there!”

  As his fist clenched the stone, the entire shelf he rested on gave way. He tumbled face first, heading down.

  “Jarrod!” Skye screamed.

  He fell faster than he expected, unable to turn himself about to get his bearing. He couldn’t remember how many counts before that stone had hit the ground. It seemed far too few as he was speeding toward the chasm’s floor. Heart in mouth, he pictured Skye and willed himself to her side.

  In a whoosh, he reappeared by Skye’s side, with solid ground under his feet. Dirty, disheveled, and surprisingly delighted, he adjusted the neckline of his robe that had slid up to tangle around his ears.

  “Oh,” she sighed, hugging him tight. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

  He hugged her back, heart still racing. He couldn’t remember the last time he had experienced such sheer exhilaration. Perhaps Tamara was right. Spending his time with books, and recording the daring deeds of others, could he have missed a vital part of what life had to offer? He laughed out loud at the idea that almost getting killed might be a worthwhile life experience.

  “We have the Quinlin,” he said, releasing Skye to show her the stone. He’d clutched at it so tight, it had left indentations on his palm.

  “It’s smaller than I imagined.” She fingered the jewel’s sharp edges. “Hard to believe it has the power to open portals to other worlds.”

  “Let’s find out if that’s true.” Jarrod picked up his pack and gave it to Skye. Then he closed his eyes to sense Tamara’s whereabouts. She’d moved from where he’d left her. He transported himself and Skye directly to her new location.

  This room was more elevated than their previous location – the air felt thinner, similar to what he and Skye had breathed at the top of the mountain. Here, the air was stale and dusty. The far wall, battered open to the outside, gave a clear view of a hawk flying by the opposite temple tower.

  Her back to them, Tamara was on the floor and peering out of the opening, Thyel was beside her with Fane curled on the floor, asleep.

  “Aunt Tamara?” Skye called out.

  His heart skipped a beat at the panic in her voice.

  Tamara swung around and Jarrod breathed in relief. She was safe.

  Skye handed Jarrod his pack and stepped toward her aunt.

  “You’re back,” Tamara looked relieved.

  “You found the stone.” Thyel’s gaze was fixed on the small plum-sized jewel in Jarrod’s right palm.

  Fane scrambled to hi
s feet and hurried over to touch the stone with trembling fingers. “The Quinlin.” He breathed out the name in an awed voice.

  “Almost lost Jarrod while fetching it,” Skye said.

  Tamara gave him a quick look. Was that a hint of concern? The thought warmed him.

  “What’s happened in here?” Skye indicated the disastrous room.

  “Horsemen’s handiwork,” Tamara said, standing with Thyel’s help before they both came over to admire the stone.

  “Will we be able to use this?” Jarrod asked, looking around the rubble with grave doubt.

  “There’s a depression in what’s left of the wall over there.” Tamara pointed to the area near where the wall had been bashed open. “We can see if it still works.”

  “Halt!” a voice boomed.

  “Master!” Fane said in alarm, turning to stare at a white-haired man squeezing through the doorway.

  Tamara, tiptoeing over to Jarrod’s side, whispered, “The keeper. I can’t believe he navigated those outside stairs totally blind.”

  “What means this, Fane?” the keeper demanded. “Who are these people? How did they gain entry to this sacred space?”

  “Master,” Fane approached the old man. “I’ve excellent news! We have visitors. Two princess and two men accompanying them. They’re looking for their brother.”

  “Tell them to leave immediate,” the keeper said.

  “But these people have found the lost Quinlin stone for us, Master. If only you could see it. It is breathtaking. All golden and glinty. I touched it and I shivered as its power coursed through me.”

  Jarrod looked at the Quinlin with a frown. He’d felt nothing but the cold, smoothness of the stone. In his excitement, had the boy imagined the trace of power?

  “Silence,” the keeper said. “You have defamed the temple by allowing strangers in. Have I taught you nothing?”

  “But Master,” Fane began.

  “Out. Everyone out of the tower. This instant.”

  “We’re not leaving, old man,” Thyel said in a hard tone. “Not until we test the stone out in its crevice.”

  “Master, please, listen to me,” Fane said.

  “I will not. This action makes it clear that you cannot be trusted to show sense.” The keeper shook loose of the young man’s grip. “Take these infidels and leave the temple. That’s an order. Don’t bother to return. You’ve forfeited your right to your apprenticeship.” He flailed at the boy, landing sharp slaps accurately on the back of Fane’s hands. “Be gone, I tell you.”

  Fane withdrew his bruised hands, and shrugged at them. There was hopelessness in his eyes that he might have lost everything he valued.

  “Ignore him.” Thyel held out his hand to Jarrod. “I’ll test it for us.”

  Jarrod hesitated. “This place is the keeper’s home. We’re the trespassers.” He held the stone close, protectively. “Even this rightfully belongs to him. If we explain our dilemma, he might understand why we need to use it.”

  “Fools,” the keeper shouted. “You must not use that stone.”

  “Let’s find out,” Thyel snatched the jewel and ran to the indentation in the wall. He placed the stone in its place and stepped back.

  “What’s happening?” the keeper asked.

  “Master,” Fane said, with excitement. “When one the men placed the Quinlin in its hold, the most amazing thing happened. The stone glowed.”

  “Take it out, quickly,” the keeper shouted.

  “No! Wait.” Thyel blocked Jarrod’s path to the stone. “It’s working.”

  “Jarrod, he’s right,” Skye said. “This might be our only chance to enter Isa and find Bevan.” There was desperation in her voice.

  Tamara slid her arm around her niece’s shoulders. “Skye, Isa may not be as safe a place as you believe.”

  Jarrod was both pleased and surprised by her practical view on the matter.

  The glow from the stone continued to expand, filling half the broken wall. The air vibrated, and a sense of connectedness to another place invaded the room. A circular glow expanded from the stone, like a door opening.

  The keeper grabbed and shook his apprentice. “Stop, you fools! You don’t realize what you’re doing.”

  Light filled the entire wall, swirling in colorful circles.

  Jarrod’s gaze fastened on the sheer terror in the keeper’s white-glazed eyes and the man’s fear invaded him. Jarrod shoved Thyel aside and plucked the stone from its place.

  The circle collapsed, flinging Jarrod across the room. He lay stunned, clasping the Quinlin to his chest as its glow slowly faded.

  * * *

  Tamara clung to Skye as waves of disturbed energy lashed out at the room. Then all went quiet. The portal had closed.

  Beside the tower room doorway, the keeper lay on the floor and moaned. Fane scrambled over to help his master.

  “Why?” Thyel got up from where the energy burst had tossed him. His hands were clenched into fists.

  Afraid he intended to attack Jarrod, Tamara released Skye and placed herself between the two men and faced Thyel. “Let’s talk about this first.”

  Skye was close to tears. “I want to know, too. Why did you do that, Jarrod?”

  Jarrod spoke directly to Skye. “We must hear what the keeper has to say about the stone.” His voice was gentle but firm. “If we risk walking into danger ourselves, Skye, we may end up dead and be of no use to your brother.” Jarrod knelt by the keeper’s side. “Sir, what was your fear when the Quinlin was placed in its resting place?”

  The old man pushed Jarrod away. “Fool! Leave me be.”

  “Master,” Fane said. “Why would you deny others what you were once privileged to experience?”

  The old man reached toward Fane, his hands shaking. “Take me…to my room.” His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breath coming out in tiny whips. “Medicine…”

  “Herbs,” the boy said. “They help him breath.”

  Jarrod nodded. “Once he regains his strength, he may tell us what we need to know.”

  “What a waste of time,” Thyel muttered.

  “The keeper needs our help,” Tamara said.

  “Yes, he does.” Jarrod assisted Fane in getting the old keeper to his feet. He then took his tome out of his pack. Opening the book, he put the Quinlin inside, and snapped it shut. Instead of bulging, the tome lay flat, as if it did not encase something round.

  “How did you do that?” Tamara asked.

  “Never mind.” Jarrod called Skye over and putting the book into the pack, he gave it to her to hold.

  Tamara watched that trusting exchange with an uncomfortable flare of envy.

  “Fane, I can transport him to his room, but I’ll need you to guide me there. Think of his room.”

  Before Tamara could say, “What about us?” the three men disappeared.

  Chapter 7

  Skye, Tamara and Thyel took the long way down the treacherous stairs to the keeper’s room. They arrived in time to hear the old man mutter to Jarrod, “Too dangerous, too dangerous.”

  Jarrod was squatted before the old man. “Keeper, calm yourself.” He gently rubbed the old man’s slender, veined white hands in his smooth dark ones.

  She had to admire Jarrod’s persistence. She would have given up on the keeper by now.

  The keeper grabbed Jarrod’s shoulders and shouted. “Too dangerous!”

  Tamara jumped in fright, and then sighed. “Old fool.”

  “Explain yourself, old man,” Thyel said.

  The keeper’s fingers pinched into Jarrod’s shoulder enough to make the Chief Counselor visibly flinch. “You must not leave through that doorway.”

  “Master.” Fane knelt to speak with him. He placed a container of water between the keeper’s shaking hands. “Drink. I’ve put your herbs in it.”

  The keeper flung the goblet away. Uncannily, it sailed straight for Thyel and Tamara. She instinctively ducked. It missed her and sailed by Thyel’s head, barely an inch away.


  He gave an angry oath.

  “Foolish boy,” the keeper shouted.

  “Why?” Fane asked, his own anger stirred. “Why am I foolish? You’ve trained me for five years for this moment. I’ve been a good student. I can discipline my mind enough to embrace a dragon’s mind-touch without panicking. I have practiced on dogs and cats and birds. I know I can do it. Now I have a chance to fulfill my destiny and you pluck it away.”

  Fane took his master’s hands. “Don’t you understand, Master. I want to be like you. I want to soar across the sky on the back of a dragon. Travel between realms. See wonders I have only imagined from your tales.”

  “Keeper.” On the other side of Jarrod, Skye, too, bent to speak to the old man. “We must use the stone. My brother is in trouble and I must go find him. The only way I know how, is through that opening to Isa.”

  The old man shook his head. “Too dangerous.”

  “Why?” Fane asked.

  “Because there’s nothing left to focus the stone’s energy, to keep it whole,” the keeper said. “Boy, if you go through that portal, there will be no returning home. Not ever. To use the portal in its current state will destroy the last remaining Quinlin stone on this side and the other, denying you the ability to return if all is not as it should be on Isa.”

  Never able to return? Tamara staggered back, and sat on a bench. What had they almost done?

  “Not if we find a dragon,” Fane said. “If I bond with a dragon, I could travel back and bring these people with me.”

  “If you don’t bond? If no dragon is willing to try anymore? They were becoming more quarrelsome with the humans the last time I visited Isa. Or what if you’re killed before you find one? Isa is not a place for the unwary. You know that, Fane. Do your friends?”

  “I would face any peril to save Bevan,” Skye said.

  The keeper’s quivering hand came to rest unerringly on her shoulder. He turned his blind eyes to her. “Would you, girl? Even if it meant you may never return? That you could be trapped on Isa for the rest of your life?”

  Skye’s face turned ashen and her gaze swung toward her aunt. Her blue gaze filled with compassion met Tamara’s. It held a determination to carry on, no matter the risk.