Lyra wrung her hands and nodded. She blinked back tears, trying to be brave in front of the Guardian.
“We have brought you a gift and power which will aid you on your journey,” he said in a shaky voice, extending his wrinkled, gray neck. His shell was at least four feet in diameter. Its thick plates emitted a hint of sheen, worn drab through the ages. His silver-gray aura spread far and lay in wisps, like that of the Unicorn.
“Magic will not help me now,” she said in a flat tone and resumed her study of the sea.
“May I hold your hand, Lyra?” Mimio asked. “I would like to assess your ability to know best how to teach you to use our gift.”
Lyra obliged without uttering a word or moving her eyes from the water.
Mimio lightly traced between her fingers and along the lines of her palm. “You possess amazing power for a Scribe at this stage in the journey.” She looked to the Tortoise. “My lord, please give me your opinion.”
She held Lyra’s hand steady for him. He stepped closer and rubbed the dry scales on the side of his face over her skin. As he did, a tingling sensation coursed along her body. Then he looked up at her. “None, other than Elisabeth, possessed this degree of power. I cannot say with certainty what level you will acquire when your quest is completed, but it is my guess yours will surpass hers. You are remarkable and will do great things for Dragonspeir. I, too, have bestowed you with some of my power.”
Lyra withdrew her hand. “Thank you for your kindness, but I don’t care about how great my power is. I want those two lives saved.”
“Your concern shows admirable character.” He leaned his neck toward Mimio. “Present her with my gift.”
The sorceress reached into her skirt pocket and withdrew another gem—a brooch with a pale green translucent set. She held it out in her palm. “This pin bears a jade gemstone, the ancient symbol of love. I felt by your touch what’s in your heart.” Her hand brushed Lyra’s as the gem passed. “Now, let’s hope Sire Drake owns its mate. Wrap your fingers tightly around the brooch, walk to the waterline, and kneel with your legs and that hand in the surf.”
Lyra sent her a questioning glance. “Wouldn’t that only call the sea dragon?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll follow close behind, and no dragon will attack with the Tortoise near.”
Hope flooded her heart. She raced out to meet the tide, accompanied by her friends. “Now what do I do?” she asked when seated in the water.
Mimio directed Lyra to recite a verse and focus on her feelings for Cullen.
Her body trembled, not knowing what to expect, but she closed her eyes to concentrate. “My heart calls to the one who holds my soul. Come to me.”
Chapter Twenty-One: The One Who Holds My Soul
Before Lyra opened her eyes, Kenzo cried out, “There! I see them!”
Her heart leapt. Cullen’s head bobbed a short distance past the line marking deeper water. She tried to stand, but Mimio held her down by the shoulders. “Not yet. Keep your hand in the water. Do not allow the charm to be broken.”
Lyra obeyed and fought against the instinct that compelled her to rush to him.
Kenzo soared to his master, but by the time he arrived, the wizard submerged again. “He’s gone! I can’t see him.”
Her rib muscles clenched around her lungs. She lurched forward to rise, and again Mimio kept her steady and urged, “Wait.”
Fire stirred within Lyra, unlike any familiar sensation. Could it be…her own magic? It gave her new courage. She took a conscious deep breath to relax and let the fiery power spread. Once it permeated her entire body, it seeped into some deep recess inside her. Her soul? The core of her being lit with empowerment.
Aunt Jean’s voice resounded in her mind, Keep a clear head, but follow your heart.
As the next wave of the sea reached her, she jerked free from the sorceress and crawled through the shallow red water, taking care to keep the jade submerged.
Mimio cried, “Wait, Lyra! Don’t go out there! It’s too dangerous.”
Lyra would not be deterred. Her only risk was losing Cullen. She crawled as fast as possible.
Waves rose up double their normal height and crashed against her, tossing her backward. Someone willed these oversized crests. Who? As the third approached, she concentrated the fire within her into her free hand. She raised it and her palm glowed gold—her aura. She focused on quieting the waves, and as the next whitecap hit her hand, it dropped before her.
In the next moment, clouds of indigo-violet darkened the sky. Rain peppered down, limiting her view of Kenzo and the spot where Cullen was last visible.
As she progressed, the water deepened, and she walked in a crouched posture, her eyes riveted upon the owl.
Bero charged up beside her.
The depth reached her waist, and she scanned below the surface. Rain now sheeted over them. She cried out, “Kenzo, I can’t see you! Have you found him?”
“No, I haven’t…wait! I see something. That’s his cloak!”
Lyra dove into the water and swam ahead.
The huge buck paddled alongside.
“I see him now, below a few yards,” the owl called. “He’s rising as you swim nearer. Keep coming, Lyra!”
Thunder boomed and lightning crashed all around them. From shore Mimio yelled, “Lyra, come back! They will kill you!”
Lyra didn’t heed the warning. Her purpose clear, determination forced her onward.
The driving rain transformed into hail, which pummeled against her face. She grabbed a hold of Bero’s strong, thick neck to brace herself.
Hailstones knocked Kenzo off balance and out of the air. He landed or fell onto the buck’s rump above the surface.
Lyra held her hand clasping the brooch out to Cullen, sending her power into it until the gem and silver setting pulsated with golden light.
He grabbed on to her glowing hand.
“He’s alive!” she cried.
But, Cullen didn’t rise above the surface. What held him down?
“Get hold of him, Lyra!” Bero roared.
She dove under, wrapped an arm around his chest, and with all her strength, pulled against the sturdy frame of the massive buck.
Finally, Cullen’s head surfaced. He gasped a huge lungful of air and sputtered. In the next instant, he thrust Noba’s tiny body above the water. Was the little dragon alive? She couldn’t see through the torrent.
The tempest responded and raged more violently, with lightning strikes twice missing them by a couple feet.
From her arm around Cullen, she felt his power enter her body, strong and hot. With their combined magic, fury channeled through her into a sudden sharp beam, sent from her outstretched hand upward to the darkest storm cloud. Would her action work? Holding her breath, she watched and waited.
The lightning ceased, and the storm slowed to a drizzle. Patches of periwinkle sky reappeared. A smile spread across her face, and she hugged Cullen tighter.
“You did it! I don’t know how, but I’m sure glad you did.” Cullen sputtered and grinned, despite his pallor, and clutched her waist. In his free hand, Noba wiggled and coughed.
He was alive! They were both going to be fine. She pressed her lips to Cullen’s.
“Master’s alive…and Noba too! Hooray!” Kenzo called to shore. A chorus of happy yells and hoots reverberated back.
“Glad you’re still with us, Master. Mighty strange-looking water around you both,” Bero said.
Lyra loosened her hold and turned her head. The water around them gleamed bright blue, sparkled with gold.
“The water and how you combined our powers—do you have the jade brooch matching mine?” the wizard asked.
“Yes, Mimio gave it to me.”
He looked to shore. “Don’t let go of me. The commingled magic will protect us all.”
Suddenly, Vilea poked her head above the surface and gasped for air. “That sea dragon was enchanted with evil magic from the Black Dragon. I’ve seen him many times
, and he’s normally calm.”
“Get hold of me, all those who swim. Can Noba ride with Kenzo?” the royal buck asked.
After a few breaths, Vilea volunteered, “Let me help swim you all to shore. Grab my skirt and I’ll pull to help Bero.”
“Noba can ride,” the pseudodragon squeaked with a raspy voice.
The owl lifted off and carefully took him into his talons.
“Hold tight, and I’ll do the rest,” Bero said to Lyra and Cullen.
***
Mimio and the Tortoise Guardian met them in the surf, which was colored bright red with the invasion of evil. Behind them the sun set.
Injuries from the sea dragon left Cullen’s legs torn in long, deep gashes. He bled profusely, and his face was drained of color, appearing even paler against the black sand.
“He cannot be moved. Lyra, don’t let go of his hand. Keep your magic connected, so the demons will not rise from the water,” the sorceress barked. She swiftly conjured a knife and cut away the pant legs from his wounds.
He lay back, too weak to sit.
The Tortoise extended his leathery neck and rubbed it over Cullen’s injuries.
Lyra flinched at the sight of his gaping flesh, torn deep into the muscles. The connection of the jadestones combined their magic, but also shared his pain. She grew dizzy, experiencing his suffering.
The Guardian jerked his head up and ordered, “You guides, keep her from passing out. She can feel his pain. Her magic must connect to his to give him strength. His injuries are serious.”
Kenzo stepped from the huddle to stand directly in front of Lyra. “Watch my eyes. Don’t think. Just watch.”
In his large ice blue eyes, an image like a video showed highlights from her visits to Dragonspeir as a ten-year-old girl.
She knelt in a large meadow. Blossoms in every hue turned their faces toward her. Many held fairies upon the lips of their petals. But her attention followed the colorful butterfly wings of a fairy dragon. She stood and followed it all around the field.
Lyra remembered the scene from twenty-five years ago and managed a slight smile.
Cullen flinched and the owl redirected her attention, “Focus on my eyes.”
The tiny fairy dragon in the meadow, no more than two feet long from nose to tip of its tail, paused for her to catch up and then playfully sailed off a short distance beyond her reach. The two laughed and hopped among the bright flowers. Then the girl sat at the edge of a stream and the tiny dragon lady lit on her shoulder, tickling her arm with its soft butterfly wings. When it at last flew off into the forest, the vision faded from Kenzo’s eyes.
The Tortoise traced his face over the wizard’s legs. The wounds had closed, and only pink scars remained.
Mimio followed with her hands, much like Cullen did for Lyra earlier on the Isle of Lumen. “There,” she proclaimed. “The damage is mostly mended. Those limbs will be a bit tender tonight. In the morning, I will reapply healing.” The sorceress moved her attention to the pseudodragon. His bruises mended in a couple minutes.
Blood clung to Cullen’s skin and clothing. With help, he sat up, his complexion healthier. “Thank you, my lord and Mimio, for your healing and, more importantly, for your gift of the jadestone.”
The old Guardian craned his neck to look at Lyra, “Amazing how our Scribe had the power to use its full capacity. I would never have expected…”
Cullen took hold of her hand and looked into her eyes. “Yes, she is remarkable.”
Mimio stood and leaned toward him. “Let’s see if you can stand. I’ll take you and your guides to a safe spot within the forest, so you may rest for the night.”
“Bero, come here, please,” the wizard asked. “Lyra’s too weak from her own injuries for me to lean on. I could use your strong shoulder.”
“Gladly, Master,” the buck beamed and strode beside him, lowering himself to allow better leverage.
“One moment.” Cullen looked back to the sea, gave a low whistle, and twisted his ring. The next incoming wave brought his cloak and staff to shore, which Lyra gathered up. “Now, I’m ready.”
With a bow to Vilea, they set off.
***
After about a half-mile, the group reached a narrow forest glade where a stream cut through and pooled at one end of the clearing.
“Sire Drake, since twilight is leaving us fast, I need your help to establish protective wards around this area. Do you feel capable?” Mimio asked.
“Yes, I can. I’ll take this side of the stream.” He traced his hands along the wall of foliage as he limped along.
Lyra drew beside him. “May I watch? And help?”
He paused and lowered his arms. “Of course. Focus your power on the word, contego. Raise your hands, state the incantation, and slowly move along to form a barrier. Go ahead. Try it. You should be capable.”
She concentrated as before and allowed that fiery sensation to rise within her, channeled through the word and to her palms. “Contego!” After walking a few paces, she repeated the incantation. “Contego!” After a half dozen more strides, she stopped. “Can you test and see how I’ve done?”
He sent a small bolt of power against the line she traced. Only a sliver of the blue light passed through. “Wonderful for a first attempt. Go ahead and do more. Practice will improve your skills. I’ll add a little power to these ward lines and test yours after a while longer.”
Encouraged, she continued and focused more directly on that blaze inside her, now more familiar. After several minutes, she reached the end of the glade, and her power bounced back, zapping her with a shock that sent her hard onto the ground. “What just happened?”
He stepped up and, as best he could, gave her his arm to help her stand. Then he ran a hand along the area. “A ley line. This is a natural line of magic, which follows the magnetic fields deep within Dragonspeir. There are many of these, and they converge on the two poles of this world. At these junctions are the seats of power, one belonging to the Imperial Dragon and the other occupied by the Black Dragon.”
“If we follow this line, which will it take us to?”
“To the left, over great plains and into a mountain range, the High Guardian. To the right beyond the opposite end of the same plain, through dense forest, the dark leader.”
The Guardian of the Water stepped near, his neck extended to seal the ward over the ley line. “Adalyra, it’s best you don’t touch any more ley lines since your power may be detected. Keeping your abilities secreted might give an upper hand when you meet evil forces.”
“Good point, my lord,” Cullen said.
The Tortoise looked to the opposite end of the ward. “Only one end of this clearing still needs to be fortified after Mimio and I depart. She has conjured a fire and some food, in case you feel too weak to do so. We will leave you now to stand guard and watch movement outside, but will return at dawn. Rest tonight. Tomorrow will be long and arduous.”
Lyra stepped forward. “Pardon me, my lord. I have a question only you may be able to answer.”
His neck lengthened far out of his shell. “Yes, Lyra, please ask.”
“If the Alliance perishes, will Sire Drake be able to live in the human world?”
He cocked his head to one side as though deep in thought. “There is no direct example to apply. Brigid once gained tremendous Dragonspeir magic and could have lived for centuries. She gave it up and died at a typical mortal age. Therefore, my guess is, unless another faction, like the Dark Realm, supplies his power…he too will die.”
Lyra passed a hand along her forehead, unable to find words.
“Does that answer your question?” His eyes opened wide and he studied her face.
“It does. Thank you.”
“I can see that jadestone was truly meant for you. It is a great difficulty to have your heart mingled with your quest—something no Scribe other than Elisabeth suffered. Let rest ease your troubles tonight.”
They exchanged bows before he lumbered off
with his aide and disappeared at the end of the glade.
Cullen followed and waved Lyra to join him. “We must secure that wall of foliage.” He hobbled with her past the guides settled near the fire, consuming their preferences of grains, vegetable, or fresh meats. “Enjoy full bellies and sleep soundly. Tomorrow we’ll work hard.”
“That food doesn’t look very appealing. Can we create something better?” Lyra whispered to him.
He smiled and took her hand. “Let’s go down by the pool and make a nice meal for just us.”
They continued around the back side of a deep pool of pale blue water, so clear the bottom could easily be seen wherever moon rays glinted on its surface. A small waterfall fed the stream. Tree limbs, heavy with pink sprays of flowers, bent to dip their tender shoots in the water. Rushes lined the banks, and a few water lilies floated at one end, holding their huge silvery-blue flowers high. When a breeze blew, the big blossoms tinkled softly like bells. Lyra dallied at the edge of the pool, touching those bells while he shored up the ward.
“How safe is the ward?” she asked.
“Very. Only high level magicals can penetrate it, and then not easily. You can rest comfortably. Now let’s get some food.” Cullen sat on a low boulder next to the basin and she joined next to him. “What would you like?”
“I hadn’t even thought. Something warm. I feel chilled from being wet.”
With a wave of his hand, steaming bowls of chowder and a loaf of hot black bread appeared on a rock before them.
After a spoonful, she exclaimed, “Delicious!” The soup comforted her.
Then, he conjured a small platter of roast chicken and potatoes, filling her bowl with a large portion.
“I haven’t eaten this well in a while.”
“Since you cooked for me last night.” He winked at her.
“Seems like ages ago. Certainly a world apart.” When they finished, she tried her hand at clearing the dishes away. Some of the food scraps disappeared, but plates remained. She sighed, frustrated.
Enchanted Bookstore Legends (5-book complete epic fantasy romance box set) Page 15