“Hamal,” she stated without explanation, not wishing to engage him in conversation. Mentioning the name of her star, she glanced up to note its location in case she needed to call forth more energy. She chided herself for not checking its location immediately upon exiting the cave. Irresponsible—her life might hang on her state of preparedness.
“Indeed. That star, which is foremost in your Aries constellation, shines high in the December sky. It imparts the reddish hue to this collection. The water contains properties much like those you draw from its light. It would be useful to store a quantity. There may be times of need, when you find yourself indoors, or at periods of the year when predominating constellations do not enhance your specific power. It will be my pleasure to bottle a sample of this for your later use, if you like.”
Again, his face showed the typical unreadable haughtiness. Lyra assumed this was another toxic liquid to help him steal her aura and kill what remained. If she continued to deny him, he would suspect her knowledge of his malicious intentions. “Yes, thank you. I would like that.” At least she didn’t have to consume it on demand at the moment and could throw it away after the lesson.
He held open his palm. “Creo!” A small amber bottle appeared, which he opened and dipped into the basin. “Additionally, this dew will help heal medical conditions, imparting fire’s sulfurous qualities of enhanced consciousness and inner will.”
“Will this harm those born under a different star?” she asked.
“No, only confuse and unbalance their systems. It’s best administered to those only when in dire need of said abilities.” He paused and studied her face. “You bear incredible proficiency with astral craft.”
Soon after she accepted the bottle, dark clouds rolled in with an approaching storm.
Eburscon raised his arms upward to the blackness and continued, undaunted. “This sky demonstrates my last lecture for your lesson—the topic of quinta essentia. It is the fifth element or divine spark, the most purified part of matter, a psychic spiritual energy superior to the other four elemental Guardians of earth, water, air, and fire.
A jag of lightning slashed the sky, striking the adjacent rocky peak. A shotgun blast of thunder immediately followed. The crack resounded in Lyra’s ears, blending with the pounding of her pulse.
“Behold quintessence in that mighty, ripping force.” His voice rose to compete with the blasts. “I situated my laboratory here for good reason. At this elevation, I have long tried to gather the fifth power from the tempest.” The alchemist surveyed the turbulent sky with eyes of a madman, open so wide that white rimmed his black pupils. The violet gems of his pendants flashed, absorbing some source of energy.
Lyra glanced to Cullen.
He held his staff ready.
“I’ve dreamed of possessing that one master power of quintessence, able to bind and imprison the others or dissolve them at will. Yet, I have been unsuccessful.” He dropped his unblinking stare onto her, his eyes boring holes into her, and yelled into her face, “But you, a simpleton, a naïve girl are gifted with something so great as the quinta essentia.”
Lyra trembled, terrified by his wild glare. She possessed this fifth power? Why?
“Maddening that it is given to one who does not yearn for it. She knows not how to best wield its intricacies, and cares more for the heart of a common wizard than ruling all energies before her. But, I will correct this injustice!”
Lightning and thunder struck all around like an outward display of his wrath. Lyra edged backward from the demonic vision of the alchemist. Her legs struck something solid.
In the next moment, the chin of the bronze dragon passed into her peripheral vision from above. Yasqu snarled at the alchemist.
Eburscon raised his arms to the sky and pronounced, “Your aura, the quinta essentia, will be mine!”
From the top edge of the rock face, the blood-curdling shriek of a cimafa sounded.
Lasers of Cullen’s blue magic whipped in all directions.
Unable to call upon Hamal in this blackness, Lyra crawled under Yasqu’s straining chest and hid her eyes from the wicked beast. Her bronze dragon roared, and she felt the heat of his flames. Lightning struck all around.
Cullen cried out, “Lyra stay there. Yasqu is protected.” Then she heard Cullen scream in pain.
Other male voices yelped as though they took hits.
Her heart leapt to her throat. She took a step away from Yasqu and looked out. Cullen lay crumpled on the stone ledge.
She leaped out further, but Yasqu batted her back under him with a huge foreclaw. She crashed hard against the stone, and her arm made a cracking sound. Sharp pain shot through her elbow. From her crouched position, she saw a bolt of lightning strike the rock wall in front of them. A gigantic boulder dropped onto Eburscon and pinned his leg.
Yasqu growled and spun around.
The cimafa answered with a loud screech.
The bronze dragon’s legs danced in every direction, and Lyra worked to avoid being trampled or crushed when his chest heaved to shoot flames.
After one of his volleys, she heard the stealth whimper in pain. A hit! Was it enough? A low eerie wail told her it was not.
Enraged, Yasqu braced and shot fire with all his might.
Sweat dripped off her face from the heat.
Then, he relaxed his legs and raised his torso.
Thunder rolled farther away. Rain began to patter down against the stones. Sounds of the storm were all she heard. She peered out from under the bronze dragon and saw nothing of the cimafa. Remarkably, Yasqu appeared unharmed.
A torrent unleashed, but that didn’t stop her from running to Cullen. He lay on his side, and she touched his shoulder. He didn’t respond, yet his body was warm. “Cullen!” She gently rolled his upper body onto her lap, scanning his body for a wound to mend. Placing her fingers at the side of his throat, she felt for a pulse. Reading was a struggle since her own heartbeat thundered in her veins, and rain pounded against the rock. Unable to locate his, she bent low and placed an ear over his mouth. Nothing.
“No! I won’t let this happen,” she cried and pushed away drenched strands of her hair, placing her hands over his heart. Adrenaline pumped through her and she drew forth more power than she thought possible. Scanning his chest, no damage responded that she could mend, but his heart beat faintly. “Yasqu, he’s alive!”
The dragon hovering above her gave a smoky snert.
Heartened, she continued to look for the source of the injury elsewhere, laying her hands over his skull. Damage reflected into her. She passed her hands in all directions, but it would not respond to her healing. Another attempt gave no success.
The jadestones—she removed both hers and his and held them together against the side of his head. With her other hand, she stroked and monitored. Irregular vibrations resounded, but she couldn’t channel into the injury.
She sat back. “I won’t let you die! I’ll signal for help.” Taking his staff in one hand, she touched him with the other. She twirled the staff and the sapphire stone shot golden light in a wide arc. “That’s only my aura. Where is Cullen’s blue light?” Perplexed, she tried again, but could not draw out his power.
Panic mixed with confusion. According to Eburscon, she possessed a power greater than any other. Why couldn’t she heal Cullen? What was wrong? Was he dying? She looked up to Yasqu. “Do you know how I can save him?”
“Nooo. Sorry. Cullen huuurt.”
The rain lightened to an icy drizzle. Her body outside the magic cloak felt frozen. She pulled the hood over her soaked head. A tremor passed through her, not from cold, but fear and panic. Alone, somewhere in Dragonspeir she’d never been before. She looked up at the sky for Hamal, hoping maybe she could transmit a signal for help through its light. Thick, gray clouds blocked her connection. She needed help and had no way to call anyone.
Yasqu kept her alive, but unless she did the same for Cullen, her life held no value. She needed him and loved him. Eb
urscon was right; she was just a simpleton, happier to love this man than to possess all the power in the world. She’d gladly give up the Scribe’s aura to live a life with Cullen.
“Lyra,” a hoarse voice croaked from behind.
She jerked up and turned around.
Eburscon waved a limp hand at her. “Lyra, help me,” he choked with a gravelly voice.
Tempted to let him lie in pain, she sat still for a moment, considering her conscience.
“Please help me,” he begged. “My leg is crushed. I’ve lost considerable blood. I’m too weak to command my magic and remove this boulder.”
She stood and walked a few steps in his direction. “Will you help me save Cullen?”
“I cannot, even if I wanted to,” his voice squeaked, for the first time sounding desperate and sincere. “His aura was taken, at least in large part, their secondary choice—an attack probably meant for you that I had nothing to do with…I swear. I suspect, since I saw you command his staff somewhat, at least a portion of his heart aura remains. Now help me.”
She turned and walked away.
“Lyra, wait. I need your help. Come back.”
She continued walking.
A powerball grazed her ankle, stinging sharply and leaving a cut several inches long—a surface wound. Even if he was weakened from blood loss, with better aim he could do far more damage than that strike. He certainly craved her death. But Lyra wasn’t afraid. Now the tables were turned; he needed her alive to help him. The wound was meant to scare her into helping him. She called his bluff and kept walking, eyes straight ahead and shoulders square. “Yasqu, please step between me and Eburscon.”
“Yezzz. I’lll protect you.” In one stride, his massive frame shielded both her and Cullen.
“Lyra! You can’t do that. I need you. Help me. Please. Please,” his voice droned on, fading into sobs.
She felt no empathy, no anger, no contempt for him. Nothing. She only wanted Cullen whole again. Kneeling beside him, she unfastened her magic cloak and spread it carefully over him. Fierce determination flooded her body with heat. She would find help.
Chapter Fifteen: A New Quest
Still only a mage-level sorceress, Lyra hadn’t been permitted to transport. She wondered if she was capable and picked up Cullen’s staff. She didn’t know the technique. Instead, she simply focused power on her need and intended destination, then twisted the staff. The sapphire only shot a beam of her golden aura into the mist, but no transport cloud formed. She hoped her power directed the beam to the Imperial lair.
“Yasqu, can you take us to the Imperial Dragon?” she asked, desperate for more ways to get Cullen some help.
He lifted his head from the ground, showing his yellow, worried eyes. “Yes. Will take youuu. Where?” He scanned all directions from the ledge, as if attempting to see the destination.
That idea seemed hopeless. Although he flew well enough, he didn’t know much as a five-month-old, barely able to communicate.
Instinct told her Cullen would die without care. On the frigid mountain top, she and Yasqu couldn’t remain long without shelter, food, and water. She thought of using Eburscon’s cave and craned her neck to see past the dragon’s snout. Outside the entrance lay the boulder that crashed onto the alchemist.
He was gone! The huge rock sat in the same position. Not even a scrap of his purple robe remained. She shuddered. His threat still existed.
She needed to get herself and Cullen away from danger. Yasqu too.
Out in the open on that ledge, she felt like an easy victim. She rechecked the sky. The gloomy sky still blocked her view of Hamal. Without it, she couldn’t trust her ability to channel the aura out of her body. With a Scribe’s incredible aura, she should be able to solve everything…if she only knew how to use it. She focused inside on the wild, whirling mass of energy. How could she corral it all?
“Damn!” Frustrated, she curled close to Cullen’s side. A bitter wind whipped against her face, and loneliness clawed at her heart. Her throat tightened, but she fought back tears. This was no time for self-pity. She needed to keep her wits together to find a way to save them.
Yasqu wedged his nose into the curve of her back. His calming touch slowed her breathing.
Lying quiet with her arm over Cullen’s chest, she felt a pinprick of warmth at her heart. This ray of hope encouraged her. She looked into his face, only to find the same frozen expression. Yet, as she ran a hand over his pale forehead, more heat sparked around her heart—the love connection of their inner fires. The cimafa didn’t steal the aura of his heart, only from his mind.
She sighed and pulled closer to him, realigning her cloak over them both. Her hand grazed the glass orb fallen onto Cullen’s shoulder from the cord at her neck—the phoenix flame—she’d forgotten it! She sat upright, her hand tight around the globe.
She lifted it before her eyes. “Guardian of Fire, Lady of Peace, I need a direction. Please help me,” she croaked, her throat swollen and ragged.
The tail feather of the Phoenix sparked. A beam of light shot out from the ledge, disappearing into the fog.
“How can I follow that path?” she questioned the pendant.
It gave no answer. The ray of light did not yield or alter.
A bank of clouds floated across, thickening the fog.
Yasqu jerked and wrapped his tail around them.
“What is it?” she whispered, craning her neck in the direction he looked.
After a while, a faint whipping noise reached her ear, but the mist shrouded whatever made the sound. A shiver slid down her spine. She reached to the brooch attached to her cloak, unpinned the opal ring, and slipped it onto her finger. After touching Cullen and Yasqu, they also became invisible.
The beating of wings grew louder.
Lyra strained her eyes in the direction of the noise, but saw nothing. Her heart thumped so hard, her head ached and her vision blurred. Although unable to extend her powers, direct use might work. Streaming her aura into her eyes, she blinked a few times and her vision cleared. She squinted and narrowed onto the location of the flapping.
Tips of huge wings appeared dark against pale gray clouds. Its span seemed too big for the cimafa, but perhaps larger sizes existed.
Moving away from her reach, Yasqu became visible again. He lifted onto bent legs, as though poised to fight.
Lyra trembled, but maintained contact with Cullen to keep him invisible. She needed to form a powerball—one that actually worked. For half a second, she considered swallowing Eburscon’s celestial dew gathered under Hamal. Since he didn’t insist she drink it in front of him, it could be safe. Not worth the chance. Desperate, she gazed at the sky. A faint shimmer gleamed through a thinning cloud where she expected her birthmate star. A second later, it confirmed her guess by transmitting a massive force into her. She kept the astral energy concentrated and used it to contain her aura, like she attempted to do at the lake cabin. Pushing the powerball into her palm, she marveled at its tight, smooth design.
Throwing was another matter though. Lyra grabbed hold of a mass of fire power in her mind, ready to launch the golden sphere.
The beast shrieked, and she unleashed her strike. The powerball left her hand with too much force. Immediately after being fired, it exploded like a firecracker. “Get back!” she yelled to Yasqu and ducked under the cloak, covering both herself and Cullen. Sparks rained down against the fabric, but didn’t burn through.
Both Yasqu and the incoming dragon screamed.
She peeked her head out.
A tremendous blue dragon reared back from the ledge, treading in place with rapid wing beats.
Yasqu landed with a plop on the base of his tail, hind legs in the air.
“Lady Lyra! Is it you? Don’t fear. It’s me—Yord,” the blue exclaimed.
“Yord!” She stood, carefully leaving the cloak over Cullen to keep him warm.
The sound of more wings hitting the air followed, and a pack of blues came into view.
“Where are you? I hear your voice, but I only see Sire Drake and Yasqu.”
“Oh! I forgot.” She slipped off the opal ring.
“Your gold laser called to me since I’m bound to you. I was glad for the flash of Phoenix flame. In the mist, I confused my bearing.” He landed on the ledge, as did the other sentries.
With a snert, Yasqu quickly found his feet and joined them.
Yord and another blue, obviously older with gray edges to his thick, curved scales, stepped close and examined Cullen. “He’s in urgent need of care and must be taken to the lair. What happened?” the elder asked her.
“Yes. He needs help now. He and Yasqu battled Eburscon and a cimafa with a rider. Much of his aura was stolen by the cimafa. Is it safe to transfer him?”
Yord shook his head. “This is sad. Yes, it’s safe.”
“The Imperial Dragon will be able to help. Let us proceed,” the older declared. He turned to the other blues and barked orders. “Yord, you take Lady Lyra, and the first guard will carry Sire Drake. The rest of you hold high alert for drakes and greens. Cimafa won’t attack a pack. Keep Yasqu in the center with our carriers.”
Yord crouched low on his hind legs and extended his forelimbs together onto the ground, clawed hands spread. “Lady Lyra, if you please. Under these conditions it is safer for you to ride in my grasp, so in case of attack strong maneuvers will not dislodge you off my back.”
After a nod to the bronze juvenile, she tied her cloak securely around Cullen, then lay across Yord’s open palms.
His talons curled up slowly around her, arms coiling toward his chest and surrounding her snuggly with muscles hard as iron.
She tipped her head in all directions, but couldn’t see Cullen. “Yord, please turn so I can see Sire Drake for a moment.”
He did as directed. With help from the elder leader, a strong sentry scooped Cullen into the same position within his claws.
In two steps, Yord set sail off the edge of the mountain face. The cold air bit her face and cut through her winter clothing. Wind rushed down her throat so fast, she worked hard to exhale. Her hands and feet grew numb. Despite her discomfort, she was glad she secured her cloak around Cullen.
Enchanted Bookstore Legends (5-book complete epic fantasy romance box set) Page 41