The dragon shook his head. “Get on. I’ll fly fast.”
Lyra handed the injured body of her friend to Revelin and pulled herself into the seat, almost missing her foothold, her vision clouded by tears. She turned and accepted the owl’s body into her lap, holding him and willing him to hang on. After all they’d been through, he couldn’t die.
They took off and sailed swiftly, a straight path to the Imperial lair as the sun dipped below the horizon.
***
On the entry ledge, dozens surrounded them with greetings and assistance.
Lyra handed Kenzo down to a lesser wizard. “Get Kenzo to Mimio! He’s dying,” Lyra choked out the request.
“I’m right here.” Mimio’s kind voice wafted through the crowd. “I’ll care for him. Lyra, go fast and see to Sire Drake. I’ll join you soon.”
Blue guards stood around Revelin, eyeing him suspiciously. Lyra moved to him. “I’ll have them take you to a guest room. Stay there while I complete our plan, then I’ll come find you.”
He nodded with a slight smile.
“Show my guest to a room,” Lyra stated hurriedly to a lesser sorceress before she strode inside the lair, adrenaline moving her aching feet forward. Moisture welled in her eyes, and her whole body shook. She blinked them back and kept moving, her quest not yet finished.
***
The pompous blue guard outside the Imperial Dragon’s study stepped out of her way. Good thing, because she didn’t have time to bow. She approached Cullen’s bedside. In the flickering light of the oil sconces, he was much paler and thinner, but still handsome.
The golden leader swept into the room after her. “Adalyra, you have returned. Your body looks battered, and I cannot sense your aura. Are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m weighed down by two auras. It disables my power completely. Don’t know how to—all I know is the vision from the Lacuna Ales during my bloodswear, using a jadestone—and I have gift of birch bark from the Lady of the Forest.”
“I hold great respect for Ysmena.”
Lyra held out her hands and stated the incantation necessary to materialize the box where she stored that gift. “Exorior pyus pyxidis!” Nothing happened. She repeated the spell. Still nothing. “I have no magic left.” Moisture covered her eyes. All that she wanted and needed lay out just out of her reach.
The Imperial Dragon curled his wide tail around her. “Consider what the Lacuna Ales revealed to you during your bloodswear. See if that holds meaning now.”
She touched the brooch at Cullen’s neck, still turned with the gem connected to his skin, like she had left it. Pangs of guilt about losing her own plagued her. She flipped the jade over and ran her thumb across the smooth, light green surface. The gem flickered with an internal fire. Lyra glanced at the leader. “What do I do now?”
“Follow your heart,” he said with a deep, calm voice.
Those words—like Aunt Jean’s. Keep a clear head, but follow your heart. Lyra thought for a moment, reflecting. She removed the brooch from his collar, still holding it firmly in her hand. She joined Cullen’s hand to rest against both the stone and her hand, together upon his chest. Again, she rubbed the jade, and it responded with a gentle glow.
A beam of light fell across the gem and she looked up, expecting the Imperial Dragon held some lantern. To her surprise, a star twinkled outside a window, her Aries soulstar—Hamal. It seemed to shine directly on their joined hands.
A surge of power flared inside her. The jade generated warmth. She looked at Cullen’s face. Hamal continued to feed her power, and slowly she located the edges of his aura within her. Awkwardly, she pulled part of it from storage in her heart and sent it to her hand. Barely breathing, she channeled the sample of his aura into the stone. Its fire flashed. She studied his face for a sign. Nothing. She waited, not willing to chance more of his aura if this only made it unusable.
Suddenly, Cullen’s chest heaved against her hand.
Her heart skipped a beat. She quickly sent more of his aura to the jadestone.
The golden dragon drew closer, leaning his large head directly over them.
Cullen’s lungs expanded deeply.
Lyra swelled the rest of his aura out through her fingers.
Finally, his eyes opened.
She held her breath. Would he be fully restored? Had she somehow damaged his aura using her new skills the wrong way? “Cullen?” Tears seeped from her eyes in a steady stream.
The corners of his mouth slowly drew up into a slight smile. “Lyra,” he choked out with a raspy voice.
Lyra searched inside her to be certain she delivered all of his aura. None remained.
Mimio walked in and stood at the foot of his bed. She stood speechless, touching a handkerchief to the corner of her eye. “Lyra, you had no power. How did you…?”
“Our Scribe is a wonder,” the leader stated, his face lit with a wide, toothy smile.
Unable to hold back, Lyra wrapped her arms around Cullen’s shoulders and hugged gently. “I love you.”
He didn’t hug her in return, not even a little. His arms remained motionless, as though paralyzed.
Lyra’s stomach knotted. She hadn’t healed him completely. Again, she opened her free hand. “Exorior pyus pyxidis!” The magic box Cullen gave her for Christmas appeared in her palm. She removed and enlarged the sample of birch bark. Instinctively, she held it in the star shine. It smoldered, a thin line of woodsy scented smoke lifted into the air and circled Cullen’s head. She repeated Ysmena’s words. “The birch tree dies, so he may live again, spreading vitality to his limbs.” As the ash fell into her hand, she lifted Cullen’s sleeve and rubbed it on his arms and did the same for his legs.
When the fire died and the bark was spent, he slowly lifted his arms and drew her to his chest.
Lyra hugged him back, never wanting to let go.
After a few minutes, he raised his head.
She let go, allowing him space.
He rose onto his elbows, and Mimio quickly slipped a pillow behind his back. He squeezed Lyra’s hand. “Lyra, my love.” He coughed repeatedly. “I pledge my life…help you gain magic required to become immortal…only then...will have enough time to return this kindness.”
Lyra answered with another hug and ran her fingers through his hair. After a few minutes, she pulled away and turned to the sorceress. “Mimio, how is Kenzo?”
Cullen’s eyebrows rose.
“He is alive, but must rest. He came very near death. I repaired a lot, but must repeat the healings over several days.”
Lyra stepped to the end of the bed and hugged her. “Oh, thank goodness. It was horrible being so helpless, watching him suffer and being unable to save him.”
“You seem injured yourself. Can I mend anything?” the sorceress asked.
“Allow me…need to begin repaying my debt.” Cullen sat up more and carefully moved his legs to one side. “Have a seat…tell me what happened. I can’t imagine.”
“I’ll bring some food and liquids. You’re both exhausted.”
Lyra eagerly sat beside him and talked a mile a minute while his warm, strong hands slowly coursed over her sprained elbow, cut hands, and bruises.
Mimio and the Imperial Dragon each gave a wave, smiling ear-to-ear, and quietly exited.
Lyra and Cullen talked most of the night, until their eyes drooped shut, and she curled next to him on his bed.
Chapter Thirty-One: Tricks and Secrets
Walking with aid of his staff as a cane, Cullen accompanied Lyra to visit Revelin in his guest chamber early the next morning. After learning her account, he wanted to hear every word the man said. They needed to regain control of that jadestone.
It enraged him to think what the man did to his lady in order to secure her brooch. Admittedly, a stab of jealousy pained him. She acknowledged her mistake, allowing the man close enough to bespell her into declaring her love and giving him her gem. Truly a lack of experience rather than a mistake, in Cullen’s opi
nion. Regardless, both her words and the thoughts he read were true to their love. Whatever dark spell forced her to behave otherwise was reprehensible. He fully intended to take reprisal.
Cullen lingered outside the open door while Lyra approached Revelin.
“Morning,” she said with a friendly tone. “Good news—Kenzo is going to live.” She paused and her voice grew louder, more assertive. “I want you to reconsider, and please give me my jadestone back.”
“Have you killed Sire Drake? Do you have his brooch in your possession?”
“Please, I would like my pin returned. Would you give it to me as a gift?” she restated the question he avoided.
“Lyra, kiss me to show me you love me.” Steps clicked on the stone floor in the room.
Cullen couldn’t bear his lady being manhandled, even to follow a purposeful plan. He shuffled into the doorway and with considerable effort, lifted his posture to full height and displayed his staff in a ready position.
Revelin’s face drained of color. His black eyes burned with glints of silver, shooting at Lyra. “He lives! You double-crossed me!”
Cullen’s blue aura glowed at the surface of his hand holding the staff. He looked the man squarely in the eyes. “I advise you make that jadestone a gift to Lyra at this time.”
“You restored his aura?” Revelin questioned Lyra. “How? You required the jadestone to hold that much power.”
Cullen gave his staff an almost imperceptible twist. Manacles sprang from the stone wall and firmly encased the man’s wrists and ankles. “Obviously, she did not.” His voice remained calm and calculated, despite his rage and anger with Revelin. He relished the terror in the man’s eyes, fair return for what fear Lyra must have felt at his hands.
Lyra took a step closer. “Once more, please grant me the brooch as a gift.”
Revelin’s eyes blazed. “No. It is mine, a symbol of our love you declared. You are mine. Whether he is alive or dead makes no difference.”
Cullen pointed the sapphire tip of his staff at the captive’s feet. “You may be sealing your own fate. Are you certain you don’t wish to reconsider her wish?” A blue laser from the sapphire etched a line in the stone.
Revelin inhaled deeply, but thrust out his chin and remained silent.
Cullen aimed his staff higher, at the man’s body.
“Wait!” Lyra exclaimed and stepped between the men.
“You do love me.” Revelin’s mouth curled into a grin, and he pulled against the shackles, attempting to reach her.
“No,” she spat out. “Before he frees the gem by taking your life, I want an answer.” Her fists clenched. “Did you kill my aunt?”
He looked to the floor.
“Answer me!” she demanded. “Or I will fascinate the truth from you.”
“You have no ability in that craft,” he taunted, his eyes blazing.
“How do you think I recovered Sire Drake’s aura?” her voice was cold, calculated. She closed her eyes and centered, beginning the process of the craft.
“Wait!” Revelin yelped. “I will give you the jadestone, if you release me. I must be free to give it as a gift.”
Lyra turned and looked at Cullen. He read her emotional thought—the man, no matter how loathsome, saved her life twice. She wanted to honor his offer and spare his life.
Cullen motioned her to move and directed his staff to release the irons.
Revelin dipped a hand into his pocket, as though searching for the item. Abruptly, he turned toward the window behind him and rammed it with his shoulder. Glass shattered across the floor as he jumped out.
They ran to the window. Cullen aimed his staff and fired to suspend Revelin’s fall, but his usual rapid reflex rate failed from extended inactivity.
Revelin’s body dropped down the cliff face, striking two granite ledges before coming to rest on a third nearly four hundred feet below.
“Can you take us down there?” she implored, eyes wide.
He nodded. “A bit slower than usual.” He spun a blue transport cloud, gradually materializing them onto the precipice.
Lyra kneeled beside the body, shaking. She felt Revelin’s neck for a pulse. “He’s dead, but really dead or is he immortal like you? Eburscon’s body vanished.”
“Revelin was not at my or Eburscon’s level, which is necessary to be granted immortality. Even we can die—not from natural or accidental causes such as this, but from irreparable magical attacks. Advanced fascination, powerballs, strikes from dragons. It does happen. Revelin most probably, like you, was strengthened by his ability. Able to endure more physical damage.”
Cullen stooped and coursed his hand in the air just above the body. Pausing at the man’s chest, he pulled a velvet amulet bag free and opened it to reveal Lyra’s brooch, her opal ring still attached. He also took Revelin’s violet pendant and examined it. “I will study this to determine its properties.” He placed both within his own trouser pocket and helped her to stand. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, just shaken. I didn’t intend for him to die. He took his own life rather than letting me search his thoughts. I wonder if he killed Aunt Jean. Now, I’ll never know.”
“Some things are best left unsaid or unknown while other things need to be made clear. When I regained my soul, I was grateful for time to do many more things in my life. One is so important, it will not wait. I have waited too long already.” He swallowed hard. “Lyra, I admit to a horrible mistake. I should have protected your aunt with a separate charm. I only set one on the house to protect you and not her directly. If the ward on the house had been undone by dark magic, the other may have held. I cannot know…but I am so very sorry.” He looked into her eyes and waited, scanning her for an emotional response. Moisture clouded his vision and prevented his readings.
She took his hands into hers. “I forgive you, just as you overlooked my ordeal with Revelin. Both were mistakes, not intentions. Our love remains strong. It kept me alive on my quest, even when my magic failed.”
Chapter Thirty-Two: The Bloodswear Ring
In the afternoon, the Imperial Dragon summoned Cullen and Lyra to his study for a congratulatory ceremony. The gathering included the four Guardians, Mimio, and about a dozen elder sorcerers and sorceresses of the lesser level.
The Imperial Dragon escorted Lyra to the center. “I have called this small group together to present one of the two awards you are due. The primary reason is because it will provide you with additional power that will aid healing of your weakened constitution.” A grin lit his face and he bared a few teeth. “Additionally, for a purely selfish reason, we cannot contain our pride and happiness until you and Sire Drake have fully regained your strength.”
Lyra smiled. All of the faces surrounding her glowed with warmth.
“The second golden bookmark for completion of your sorcery training will be presented in front of the assemblage at the Meadow. Now, I wish to award something even more coveted and rare—the bloodswear ring.”
“Hold everything! Wait for us,” Oasth, the warlord fire drake, called out as he walked into the room with Kenzo perched on his neck.
Lyra went to them and addressed the owl. “My dear friend, I’m overjoyed you’re mending. Will you please forgive me all the hurt I caused your heart?”
“Only if you’ll forgive me for peeing on your leg.” He chortled and smacked his beak together.
The room exploded with laughter, and Cullen raised an arm to accept his assistant.
Kenzo fluffed out his chest feathers and stepped up to his master’s shoulder.
The Imperial Dragon cleared his throat and everyone quieted. “Let us resume our ceremony. During my reign, I have only had the honor of presenting this to two others, Sire Drake.” The leader paused and nodded to Cullen. “…and Sire Tarom.” With his claws, he picked up a small ceramic box from a library table and handed it to Lyra. “Open, please. Inside, you will find the ring that indicates your successful completion of a bloodswear quest on behalf of th
e Alliance. You have killed the Black Dragon’s heir, diminishing the dark powers. The Alliance holds stronger, its residents safer, for your effort.” He looked to Cullen. “As a recipient of this honor, please cover her scar. In the days to come, please teach her the magic of the ring.” Turning aside to Lyra, he continued. “Both of these awards raise your level as a sorceress, approaching the immortality you need to embrace an equal and complete life with Sire Drake.”
Cullen stepped to her side and picked up the ring—silver wrought in the image of a dragon’s face with a sapphire setting, similar but smaller than his. With his eyes meeting hers, he slipped it over her right index finger.
Lyra hugged him, and he pulled her into a tight embrace.
During the next hour, the group members mingled, exchanging stories and hugs.
Lyra found Cullen’s side again and held up her ring. “Will this help me read the air instruments better?”
His eyebrows rose. “Most probably. What do you intend?”
“I have a question for the Spheres of Sidus.” She casually moved into the observatory, to not draw much attention.
Cullen followed and leaned against the doorframe.
Like before, she set the black, gray, and white onyx balls to represent the soulstars of her grandmother, Aunt Jean, and herself, checking the positions of the stars outside. She aligned the moonstone utopian rondure as she focused on her question and delivered a measure of her power. The rainbow patterns of the milky sphere swirled into a brilliant glow, spreading across the entire table. Lyra held tight to the rondure.
A vision formed…Revelin’s face.
She removed her hand. The finality of knowing her aunt’s murderer drained her strength. His motive remained a mystery that she lacked desire to pursue. It no longer mattered…Jean was gone. She looked at Cullen and the Imperial Dragon beside him. She was grateful for this wonderful new family to fill her empty heart.
Together, they looked past the Spheres of Sidus with the image of the man’s face growing dim, toward the red haze of the Dark Realm spreading along the horizon. A single large black butterfly with purple spots flitted at the window panes.
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