Those fiery eyes caught and held her gaze.
“Lyra, look away!” Cullen screamed.
The dragon’s energy hit her without warning, invisible with no aura. It flung her body down the side of the cliff, then sailed away with a shrill screech.
Chapter Nine: Throwing Powerballs
The rock wall blurred as Lyra dropped. Wind rushed down her windpipe and into her lungs with such force she couldn’t scream. She forced her eyes closed. After gathering her will, she summoned her inner fire. Panic blocked access to power from her heart. In desperation, she put what she could command to use, willing herself upward. With clenched fists and gritted teeth, she concentrated.
After a few seconds, the air no longer stung the skin of her face. She flashed her eyes open, only long enough to see distinct shapes of stones as she dropped—slower, but still dangerously fast. She didn’t waste time looking down to determine how soon she’d impact ground.
She concentrated again to draw on deep power. She searched inside where she remembered feeling the warmth before. Not there. Where was it? Twice she sensed a tingle within and mentally followed it, only to find it vanished. Panic escalated. Wind bit her face. She’d lost hold on her primary power. A trace of it passed through her mind and she commanded it to act. Her body spun out-of-control like a wobbling top, jolting her to look down. The ground still lay far below. While distracted, she hit a branch jutting from the stone wall. Intense pain shot through her elbow. Clamping it to her side, she fought to ignore the sharp ache and looked at the sky.
Hamal shined and flooded Lyra with a new strength. Again, she slowed her descent.
Then, blue light surrounded her. It broke her fall and floated down like a large bubble. A mass of blue mist sailed past her.
The loud flap of dragon wings snapped her attention upward. Her heart raced as she strained to make out the color against the dark sky. Blue! She exhaled with relief as the huge sentry hovered close.
Her bubble continued easing nearer the ground. In the middle of the receding vapor, Cullen stood with feet planted wide apart, commanding his staff. He directed her landing and dissipated his sphere.
Lyra took a step toward him. The pain in her arm caused her to waver.
After a long stride, he caught her in his arms and lowered her to a seated position.
She flinched and jerked her head upward. “Are we safe?”
“Yes, with that blue above us we are. They must have planned that attack between regular patrol passes.” He circled an open palm to the Imperial Guard.
The blue assumed a circular flight pattern, guarding the sky overhead.
Lyra relaxed against Cullen’s shoulder.
“You’re drained. Lean against me while I mend your wound, so you can travel comfortably.” He pulled her cloak back from her injured arm, and a blue light from his finger tore the remaining sleeve away.
Bloody skin hung loose at her elbow and exposed bones jutting at odd angles. She winced. A wave of nausea swept over her.
Cullen’s palm glowed blue and he ran it lightly over her arm. With his first pass, she cried out, and the fingers of her other arm clawed at the frozen soil. “The most difficult—realigning the bones. I promise it will get easier.”
After his treatment, her muscles still twitched, but the pain was reduced.
“Time to get away from here.” After a hand signal to the dragon, he lifted his staff. With a twirl, sapphire light spun around them as they huddled on the ground.
The weightless sensation soothed Lyra’s frazzled nerves.
The fog dropped, and before them the dark silhouette of a dragon sat on the lake shore.
Lyra shuddered and withdrew, until she noticed a few scales shimmer bright cobalt.
The familiar sound of dragon wings pushed against the air over the tree tops. Two more blues.
Although questions spun through her mind, she was too exhausted to talk. Without a word or glance at Cullen, she paused only to nod to Kenzo on the porch before she plodded inside and up the stairs. Dull soreness made the injured arm a heavy burden. She felt tiredness unlike any before, as though the nerves inside her brain and spine ached. It required real effort to move her feet up the steps. In the bedroom, she fell backward onto the bed without even taking off her cloak.
Cullen followed close. With a turn of his staff, a fire lit in the fireplace, and her clothing disappeared, except for her undergarments.
Lyra managed a weak smile. “So, you can get me naked anytime you want?”
“True, but what pleasure would that bring? I prefer to tease you.” A sly grin spread across his face, lifting the corners of his goatee the same handsome way as when she met him in his bookstore.
She watched him intently as he moved over her, applying his healing touch. Although her mind and body were spent, she soaked up comfort in his presence. With this single focus, she felt a new connection. A warm sensation spread over her heart. She let out a gasp. “Do you feel that or am I crazy?”
He chuckled, continuing to trace her injuries. “I do. Our inner fires connected.”
“Like with the lovers’ jadestones?”
“No. Those paired stones unite our power. This unites our love. A very different thing.”
The strange, gentle warmth spread throughout her ribcage, and she ran a hand over her chest, trying to understand what it was. “What is this?” She struggled to lift her head.
“Our souls unite deep in each other’s hearts. I’ve heard tales told by the Meadow sorceresses about this, when they were trying to convince me how nice the bond of love would feel.”
She raised her eyebrows. “They needed to convince you?”
“I gave up on love after I found your copy of the Book of Dragonspeir in a bazaar. I thought that meant our bond was broken, and I’d never find you when you matured into a woman. Duty to the Alliance became my life.”
“I can see how they’d worry about you then.” She rested her hand on his thigh. “So this feeling inside, this warmth…you’ve never felt it before?”
“No, I have.” He moved down to the end of the bed, took one of her feet into his hands, and massaged it deeply.
She pulled her foot from his hold. “With who?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she was embarrassed. If she hadn’t been so tired, that never would have slipped out. How could she expect to have been his only love? He was 185 years older than her. She tucked her feet to one side and hugged her injured arm. She dreaded his response about ladies much prettier or more skilled in sorcery, but she had been foolish enough to ask.
Cullen’s head hung down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I forget you can’t read my thoughts like I can yours. There was only you, when you were a girl. Late one night…you were in the hospital. I touched your forehead, intending to take some of your pain away. I felt a twinge of this heat in my heart.”
“Why haven’t I felt it until just now?”
“Probably because your magic has grown stronger and so has our love.”
Lyra struggled to sit up and wrap her arms around his shoulders.
He eased her onto the pillows and helped her under the covers before removing his clothes. Under the feathery duvet, he held her tight.
Lyra lay quiet, observing the unusual warmth inch beyond her chest. When it passed into her limbs, she murmured, “Ahh.”
He stroked her hair. “Yes, I hear your thoughts—like when we transport.”
She drifted along, fascinated by the ebb and flow of the heat, until dreams and reality blended.
***
A voice called out, “Hey, Master! Rise and shine. I’m ready to be Lyra’s study partner today.”
Kenzo’s silver-striped wings flapped at the transom window. Lyra nudged Cullen’s back and whispered. “Kenzo’s teaching today’s lesson?”
“What?” He looked over his shoulder at her, eyes still half-closed. “Kenzo? Why do you think…” The flutter of wings against the window caught his attention. “Oh, I s
ee. No, he’s assisting my lesson. I’ll teach you defensive craft today.”
“I sure do need that. I had a hard time last night.”
Cullen raised an eyebrow. “A hard time? More like a near fatal encounter.”
“I beg your pardon. I was doing just fine once I found my Hamal star and boosted my power. I could have slowed my fall enough for a safe landing if you hadn’t butted in.” She poked his ribs.
“Ouch!” He rubbed his side. “It was an impressive save to be able to concentrate with such an injury.” He rolled to face her. “What I meant was your battle with the cimafa and rider. That beast nearly stole your aura, your entire power, your soul.”
“It could?” She shuddered. “I had no idea an aura could be stolen. Why would someone want my aura?”
“Only cimafa can. The magic of a Scribe is unique and powerful in unusual ways. I didn’t think it was possible, but apparently someone believes that they can assume and control your aura. I was powerless, watching you fight. I have no skill to defeat cimafa. I don’t know if anyone can, although there are rumors. Riders must willingly give a portion of their auras to be able to command them. In the worst association, the rider gains some of the aura the cimafa harvests—a wicked exchange.”
“Like a druggie getting a fix?”
He nodded. “Exactly.”
“Is this about the cimafa what you and the Imperial Dragon kept from me?”
“It was an awful chance going into the Qumeli territory. I was opposed, but he felt certain they would teach you valuable skills usually keep secret. That sibyl had prearranged a deal with the cimafa rider. Those creatures are deadly. All in Dragonspeir fear them since they are not truly under either leadership.”
“What are the rumors?”
He hesitated.
“Tell me!” She glared at him as she sprang out of bed. “I need to know everything in order to protect myself.”
“Unfortunately, you do. That one managed to slip past both me and the blue guards, who have been on high alert for cimafa.” He got up and conjured wool pants and tunic. “Some of the lesser wizards you met at the festival claim Tarom has the ability to fight those stealth dragons.”
“What do you think? Can he?”
“He might. Let me explain while we prepare for the day and get some breakfast. I need to heal your arm more. Should I conjure you some clothes?” He raised a hand, and Lyra batted it down.
“I’m quite capable.” With a strong voice, she stated the incantation to produce jeans, a sweater, and fleece-lined boots. Clothing in hand, she headed for the stairs. “Come tell me in the bathroom while I shower. My practice partner is waiting,” she teased.
Following behind, he said, “More than a century ago, Tarom was Eburscon’s apprentice in the Alliance.”
“Then why is he part of the Dark Realm now?” she asked as she ran water in the claw-footed tub.
“Tarom is incredibly intelligent. He devoured the alchemy lessons and within a couple years posed a threat to Eburscon.” Cullen located towels as he talked. “From the start, theirs was a stormy association.”
As Lyra stepped into the tub and drew the shower curtain closed, she asked, “Who could get along with Eburscon?”
“A follower. Tarom is clearly not that, but rather a fierce, quick-witted leader. The antagonism eventually led to a showdown of skills. I came upon the battle in time to separate them. They were intent on fighting to the death. Each still bears injury from that day. That ended Tarom’s apprenticeship. He left and never went back.”
“To work for the Black Dragon?” she called out over the noise of the spray.
“No. He disappeared for a few decades. A couple times, he sent word asking me to visit where he’d established his own laboratory in remote northern Dragonspeir. Somehow, he trained a flock of ice drakes to help him—horrid beasts. Last I heard, while Symar traveled with his duties, he discovered Tarom. Although I don’t know what transpired, shortly after, Tarom became the Dark Alchemist. I’ve not had much communication with him since.”
These new connections intrigued Lyra. She poked her head out while sudsing her hair. “Why did he call you to visit him? Are you friends?”
“We were close, working together on special tasks for the Alliance.” He glanced up before he continued shaving. “He and I met while apprenticing. Fascination is one of his natural talents. We each possess some basic inclinations. He taught all the classes on that topic, which I took. When I quickly mastered the material, he became fond of me and struck a deal. He asked to be my practice partner for defensive craft since he didn’t have time to take advanced sorcery along with his alchemy studies. In exchange, he developed a higher level course on fascination with me as his only pupil.”
“So that’s why he referred to past duels with you when the two of you fought in the Black Dragon’s lair last summer? He seemed to enjoy the challenge.”
“Exactly. It used to be a game for us. We were fierce competitors, but always got on like brothers, trying to best each other.”
“Which one is better?” she called out, probably too loudly since her head was under the shower stream.
“I don’t know how we would match up now, but back then, I was considerably better in defensive wizardry. We were rivals in fascination skills, but I could’t match him with alchemy.”
Lyra shut the water off and stepped out of the tub. “Sounds pretty equal.”
“Hard to say…we’ve each had plenty of time to learn more since then.”
As Lyra dried herself, she wondered if having a lesson with Tarom might be good.
“Not going to happen; too dangerous. Stop thinking about that,” Cullen quipped as he took his turn in the shower.
“If I wanted to discuss that, I would have said it aloud.” Lyra snapped her towel on his bare ass.
He jumped. “I can’t know when reading your mind is something you want or when you’ll be upset.”
“Seems like a simple task for an Imperial Sorcerer.” She laughed as she combed tangles from her wet hair.
***
In the middle of the forest glade, Cullen opened his clenched fist to expose a pale blue ball of light the size of a golf ball. He intended to keep the power slight, in both quality and quantity, until Lyra learned some control. “Call upon your inner mind fire.”
She screwed up her face into what looked like a painful expression and in short time, her whole hand glowed with bright, golden light. Fragments slipped from between her fingers, and he feared what might happen.
“Kenzo—on the ready!” Cullen cried as he lowered his staff and fired the moment her powerball burst from her opening hand.
His assistant sailed up into high branches, well out of the path.
Cullen’s vivid blue beam surrounded and extinguished her large, loose mass.
“Whoohoohoo! What a first attempt!” Kenzo called as he glided to the ground.
“What happened?” Lyra asked.
Cullen read her emotions, trying to judge how personally she might take his constructive criticism. She clearly wanted to learn and fast. However, it seemed strange she didn’t want much help from him, the one person assigned to keep her safe. Understanding her defied his magic and his logic—left him guessing like a mere mortal. “You brought forth a huge amount of power, which was incredible…but without proper management. We need some practice.”
“You mean no control, Master!” the owl chortled. “She’s got firepower for a dozen mages, but it’s running amuck.”
Lyra looked from one to the other. “Okay, stop standing around looking shocked and show me how to hang onto it.”
“You must save a portion of power, and wrap it around the raw force before you push it out to your hand. Visualize what you intend to create first. With practice it will appear as such in physical form. Let me demonstrate.” He initiated a loose mass, then paused. “I have a better idea. Hold my other hand.” He held out his left hand to her.
“Can’t wait to see t
his trick.” Kenzo extended his neck.
Cullen laughed. “I can see you trust me since you’ve tucked in your wings.”
“Don’t forget, I have remarkable reflexes.”
“Better than any I know.” Cullen nodded with a smile and drew a small portion of the energy surging between him and Lyra into his mind. “There, I’ve placed a controlling layer around the mass. Do you feel it?”
“Yes, I think. Can you take it away, and put it back around again, so I can sense the difference better?”
“I can. There it is without the shield and now, with it in place again.”
She grabbed his hand tighter. “Yes. I felt how you covered it with our auras.”
“All right. Good. You do the same and I’ll monitor.”
Lyra partitioned off a huge unit, and he felt her slide another layer on top. He gasped at the amount she was able to manipulate in her mind. Then, he panicked. “Hold it there. Don’t extend it outward. That’s too much. Release it back inside to the heat source.” He held his breath. His other hand readied his staff.
She followed his direction and discharged it safely. “How was that? It seemed good to me. I could feel the steps.”
“Good process, but too large. Let’s try this. I’ll do those same steps and add a third, serving it to my hand.” Soon, he created a small sphere of golden blue in his palm. The intensity of the light pulsated, holding more power than even he intended. Their combined energy pushed hard against his skilled control. “Bring your free hand next to mine with your palm open.”
She did as directed, and he continued, “Now, I’m going to allow it to roll into your hand. Let it rest gently and observe what it feels like.”
“Can I touch it?” Kenzo piped up.
“Sorry, my dear friend, this only works between us, through the bond of lovers’ jadestones.”
“Hmpf. I love Lady Lyra. That should count.”
Lyra laughed, causing her hand to jiggle. The orb bounced and nearly rolled off her hand.
Terrified of a powerball exploding at their feet, Cullen quickly reclaimed it and vanquished it back within his mind. “Your turn to make one. Keep it smaller than you intend.” He observed, somewhat dubious about the lumpy, softball-sized magic she brought to her hand.
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