“We have.” Cullen held out his forearm covered with a leather wristlet. “We wish you to join us, but we want the approval of the Guardians as well.”
The owl let out a loud hoot and hopped onto his master’s arm.
“Lyra, I wonder, since our trip to Terza allowed you to read my mind and increased other sensations…” Cullen gave a slight grin. “I’m curious if you can transport. Do you want to try?”
So excited, she struggled to keep from tackling him with a hug. “Yes! I do.”
“Let’s have you try transporting to the other side of the lake. Use your dragon ring. Rub the face while you hold two thoughts in mind, where you wish to travel and the command, Eo ire itum.”
She touched the ring on her right index finger, then glanced up at him. “What if I get lost and end up somewhere I’ve never been?”
“If this is like her powerballs, she might end up stuck in the clouds,” Kenzo quipped with a smack of his beak.
Cullen gave his arm a shake, unsettling the bird’s perch. “Keeping that beak closed would help.” He turned to Lyra. “As long as you travel in Dragonspeir, I’m certain I can use my jadestone to call to yours.”
Lyra looked back to the ring, but worried about ending up in a strange land. She cast that thought aside and centered herself. Focusing on the opposite shore of the lake, she was glad to have a clear visual of her destination. Eo ire itum! she repeated silently.
Golden light spilled from Lyra’s mind aura and surrounded her from toes to head. A smile spread over her face, and she worked to maintain concentration. Once totally enveloped, she looked down to see her body dissipate into particles of shimmering gold. Weightlessness made her stomach flutter. A feeling of being completely alone rushed over her. An instant of fearful loneliness crossed her mind just before her feet touched the ground. She blinked several times, straining to see through the mist which wouldn’t dissolve fast enough. Then, she saw Cullen waving from the other side of the water.
Kenzo flew to meet her. “Try going back while I ride along.”
With the tiger owl at her feet, she tried again, but her aura wouldn’t cover them completely. “Sorry. It doesn’t seem to work with guests. Let me try again alone.”
Soon, she touched down in the clearing before the cabin, her mist settling in time to see Kenzo flapping back to Cullen’s arm. “I can do it fine without passengers,” she called as she walked toward them.
“Even that much is amazing. I’ve only known sorcerers reaching full afflation to gain that skill. Your scribal powers allow you to do things that others cannot. Still, use it cautiously and only in Dragonspeir.” He motioned her toward him and lifted his wristlet for Kenzo to perch.
She nodded, grinning ear to ear as they landed together on the ledge of the Imperial Dragon’s lair.
***
On the landing outside the lair, hundreds of peacocks crowded every inch. Unable to hear above their raucous cries, Lyra scanned for who might be in charge. In addition to the usual blue guards at the entry and circling overhead, she spotted the Phoenix sailing low and dropping flames onto the fowl. The Tortoise stood out of the way, against the stone wall, and his assistant, Mimio, waved her wand over the noisy flock.
“What are you doing?” Lyra called to the sorceress.
“To remove poison,” Cullen said and walked toward the Tortoise.
Mimio motioned Lyra to join her. “Peacocks, if trained, will detect and eat poison. They won’t be harmed. The poison will make their feathers iridescent.”
“The wells should still be safe. Are we worried about those used for livestock?”
Mimio nodded. “We’re doing all we can to protect the people.” She continued waving her wand, emitting a shower of sparks over the unruly birds. “In the same way, it’s quite common for windows in the Alliance to be carved in the shape of a peacock with an erect tail, so they will prevent evil spirits and bad air from entering. If I can get the right amount of magic applied to control these birds without negating their natural tendencies...” She gave an extra dose to one that hissed at her.
“I need to work with the Tortoise. Is he helping you?”
“No, in fact, he dislikes peacocks enormously and will be glad for an excuse to go inside.”
Lyra touched Mimio’s shoulder and picked her way through the commotion toward the Tortoise Guardian.
He and Cullen were engaged in conversation when she approached.
“Hello, Scribe Lyra. Good to see you looking rested,” the Tortoise said, extending his neck and head upward. “Is there anything I may assist you with?”
“Yes, there is. I want to look over your journal entries about Elisabeth one more time, so they’re fresh in my mind.”
“Indeed. I can help with that.” He turned and plodded into the foyer.
Inside, the grand hall lay quiet. The last time she entered was when she returned from the Dark Realm with Cullen’s missing aura. Unlike then, business seemed orderly, although twice as many blue dragon guards stood ready.
The gathering room looked polished from a thorough cleaning, ready for the coming spring equinox pageant. Dozens of sconces burned brightly on the stone walls. The plush carpets and vivid tapestries were freshly shaken. The wood grain in long planked buffet tables gleamed under huge vases of flowers and foliage.
Cullen followed, and they wound through a network of corridors until they reached the heavy wooden door to the Imperial library. A new aisle of shelves had been filled since she last studied there before her bloodswear quest.
“This way.” The Tortoise lumbered ahead of them. “Lyra, I’ve been working as you requested. I collected journals and transcribed oral histories from many of the sorcerers, even from some Qumeli tribal chiefs and sibyl readers.” He looked up at a section of the new shelves. Pointing with his nose, several volumes floated down to the low library tables. He rested his front feet on the edge of the table and turned each to specific pages. “Begin here and read these entries. Some you have read before, and some are new.”
Lyra kneeled on the floor cushions and followed him, left to right, through the selections. The first was an extremely yellowed journal page, its ink barely discernable through several water stains:
Elisabeth Walsh, the first Scribe, and her specialis, Sire Lann Garrett, accepted bloodswear circlet scars upon their fingers before their quest. They left with the intention of destroying the Emtori ruby in possession of the Black Dragon at that time, which he used to magnify his powers. The Emtori ruby is the largest ruby known, mined from the underground caverns of Terza and imbued with the strongest black magic of the great Shandin leader of the Malificates.
She reread two official entries from the Imperial Dragon in power during the Dragonspeir year of 1211:
It is with extreme sadness I enter this report. Our Scribe returned today from her assigned quest. Her success on the mission brings continued peace to the Alliance—the Emtori ruby is no longer in possession of the Black Dragon Lord. But, this good fortune is countered by the loss of our Imperial Alchemist, Sire Garrett. Both her heart and ours are broken. The good tidings of her completed task received no celebration other than a solemn presentation of the customary dragon ring to seal her bloodswear mark.
We of the Alliance have bade a sorrowful goodbye to our Scribe, Elisabeth. Numerous gifts were bestowed upon her from many who loved her. Yet, as per her customary manner, she left us with the greatest gift of all—news she carried the child of our departed Sire Garrett. We rejoiced that their legacy would continue into future generations, the magic would endure for the good of the Alliance. Elisabeth promised to encourage her gifted descendants to return to our land and, in return, asked that our stars allow one to have a destiny embracing the happiness she sought.
Since Sire Garrett had been immortal, Lyra wondered what horrible, magical assault caused his death. She moved on to the last open book. Written on newer paper, it contained an entry she read three times:
From tales told th
rough the years, suffering from a broken heart, after Elisabeth scribed her bloodswear mission, she asked permission to leave Dragonspeir forever, to forsake her magic and live a mortal life. On the 20th day of August of that same year, her child was born. Elisabeth passed away during childbirth. Those who traveled between worlds reported she willfully conveyed the sum of her aura into the babe just prior to the birthing. The infant glowed with a golden hue during its first day of life, a girl whose lineage produced the next Scribe, Nareene. Elisabeth’s last words were, “My aura shall pass through all future Scribes in this way, a mother dying at the birth of her daughter, until the magic imbues one woman strong enough to destroy the Black Dragon.”
Unable to turn away, with clenched fists, Lyra resolved to be that woman.
Chapter Nine: Return to Terza
A rim of turquoise lit the pre-dawn sky on the eastern horizon. Lyra received hugs and kind farewells from many of the sorcerers while Kenzo hovered over her shoulder. Wingold and his wife clasped hands with the Scribe to give her gifts of their special abilities that could alter seasonal rains. Lyra thanked the couple, happy their boss, Symar, wasn’t present. She didn’t want that man to learn about their mission.
“Sire Drake and Scribe Lyra, it is time for you to transport with your assistant and familiar to the Crossroads. We Guardians will meet you there,” the Imperial Dragon announced.
Lyra bent low and Noba moved into her arms, squirming as she lifted him. “I know you’re excited, but try to sit still.” She rearranged and held his tail down to avoid being stung by the poisonous barbed tip.
Kenzo sailed to a smooth landing on his master’s wristlet, then fluffed out his feathers.
Noba’s wiggles threw Lyra off balance as she attempted to step next to Cullen.
He offered her a hand and caught his familiar’s attention. “Noba, I’m glad to see how eager you are.”
The torch light gleamed off of the widened whites of the pseudodragon’s eyes. “Noba gets to help Master on a mission.” Excited, his head flipped to the right, following the motion of a passing sentry.
“Look at me, Noba,” Cullen said, recapturing the gaze of his familiar. The Imperial Sorcerer’s eyes faintly glowed as he controlled the tiny dragon’s mind with fascination. At the same time, he twisted his staff until blue vapor surrounded their foursome.
Noba remained peaceful while their forms dissipated into weightless particles of blue light. That didn’t last long, though.
As soon as they landed at the Crossroads, Cullen dropped his fascination so he could speak to Cranewort.
His familiar wriggled free from Lyra’s arms. “Noba’s going to Terza!” he called out as he half flew, half hopped toward the massive tree.
“Shh,” the ancient Gatekeeper whispered. He grabbed and dangled the pseudodragon upside down by a single branch in front of his furrowed bark face. “You must stay quiet. It’s a secret mission.”
Lyra nudged Cullen’s shoulder. “How did you do fascination while transporting?”
“Lots of practice. Too bad I haven’t yet managed to talk at the same time.”
“Or, too bad we can’t take Cranewort along to scare Noba into silence.”
Cullen winked at her and nodded.
The Tortoise and Unicorn materialized from two silvery clouds that took shape underneath the Gatekeeper’s wide boughs.
Wing beats announced the entrance of the Imperial Dragon. A spherical blaze followed alongside him and spun above their heads into the form of the Phoenix.
The sound of more dragon wings whipping the air riveted Lyra’s attention. She thought of the cimafa and her jaw tensed. Instead, she saw a pair of huge dragons, much larger than stealth drakes. Even in the dim light, the edges of golden scales glinted. It was Gea, the magnificent golden dragon she had met in Versula. The other was duller, more hidden by the shadows. But his shape was unmistakable.
Lyra left the group and hurried to Yasqu, the hatchling she had raised for the first months of his life. Once he landed, she hugged his lowered foreclaw while he nestled his cheek against her side. Last winter, he was a gangly adolescent with wings too long for his body. Now his outline revealed a sleek, strong form, though still not as heavily muscled as his mother.
The Imperial Dragon handed Cullen a small burlap sack. “Sire Drake and Scribe Lyra, this contains a few magical baubles that may prove useful for trading. They are already empowered. Use them as you wish.”
“A good idea. I brought a few, but these may help.” Cullen looked inside, then held it open for Lyra. Inside, several orbs glowed in various colors. Some were strung like beads, resembling Christmas lights, while others were larger and single.
The leader cleared his throat. “I request that Yasqu accompany you into Terza, in addition to your assistant and familiar.”
Lyra turned and wondered if she heard correctly. How could they hide anywhere in Terza with a full-sized dragon?
Everyone stared at the leader, but no one dared question his decision.
The Head Guardian spoke privately to Gea, their necks raised above the hearing range of everyone in the group except Cranewort.
Lyra studied the expressions of the old tree and noticed a slight smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. She wanted to use clairvoyance to learn more, but knew better than to try it on her teacher in that craft. Energy waves brushed her skin and she fought against analyzing them, deciding to trust the Imperial Dragon.
Side by side, the two golds looked similar, although Gea’s sails attached farther along the length of her tail. Far more whiskers, like those on a catfish, grew from the leader’s face.
Cullen took hold of Lyra’s arm, and she read his mental comment. Most of the tunnels in Terza were large enough to accommodate a dragon—
Not the alleys. She shot a thought in reply. He’ll have to stay behind on his own if we go down those.
At last, the leader lowered his neck and said, “Yasqu will soon become part of my Imperial High Council, as my aide. He will benefit from this experience, and I assure you that he would give his life to keep you safe.”
“He will learn much to help him serve on your High Council,” the Unicorn stated with a clear voice as he took a stride into the center of their group. He lowered his head, holding his horn horizontal.
The Phoenix hovered above the point of his horn, and the Tortoise made a determined path toward them.
Lyra and Cullen moved closer to meet the gathering.
The Imperial Dragon extended a foreclaw to touch the Unicorn’s spiraled horn. “Sire Drake and Scribe Lyra, please join hands underneath.”
They stood on either side of the Unicorn and clasped below as directed.
The Tortoise crept under their hands and raised his head up until his scaly skin pressed against their palms. At the same time, the other three Guardians touched from above.
Vibrations surged from Lyra’s hands through her body, and a feeling of dedication swelled into her heart. Her pulse beat loudly in her ears, thumping with an abnormal rhythm from the combined powers of the Guardians of the Alliance.
Cradled into end twigs of a large branch, Cranewort held Noba above the point of union. Kenzo perched alongside the pseudodragon, and Yasqu moved his head next to them. His scales took on a golden hue in the light of the combined auras radiating upward.
“May you each serve the Alliance with a pure heart and courage of the Guardians.” The leader drew away and opened his other foreclaw to reveal one of the pair of Axiolite Obsidian stones. At the edge of the portal to Terza, its mate sent shimmering rays up to meet those coursing down from the one he held. Rocks and boulders rolled aside.
Cullen took initiative and descended onto the first few steps. He turned and offered a hand to Lyra.
Noba flew to the wristlet on his other arm, only to smack into Kenzo who beat him to the favored perch. The familiar toppled down the steps, letting out a garbled, “Ouchhheee!”
Not bothering to take Cullen’s assistance, Lyra
whipped past into the darkening stairwell. Her foot slipped off of an uneven stone to the next step. Unbalanced and not yet able to focus in the dim light, she strained to see an outline of the tiny pseudodragon to avoid falling onto him.
Two wide eyes luminesced at her.
In their light, she caught hold of a crag in the rock wall to steady herself. “Noba? Is that you?”
“Yes. It’s Noba.” The eyes bobbed and came nearer.
Blinded by the light, she reached a hand in his direction, hoping to avoid touching his tail. “Are you hurt?” She contacted the edge of his wing and felt him press against her leg.
“Feel fine, only hit head hard.”
Lyra felt a hand at her back. “Noba, your eyes…the pupils are streaked with white that glows like the obsidian stones,” Cullen said.
Kenzo’s earring jangled. “I’m sorry about the accident. Didn’t mean any harm.”
“He’ll be all right. Not to worry,” Cullen reassured.
Soft daylight silhouetted Yasqu’s form behind Cullen.
Lyra ran a hand over the back of Noba’s head. There she found a jagged patch of scraped scales where a small bump raised.
“Did you locate his injury?” Cullen’s hand grazed hers. “Allow me. Mending pseudodragons is tricky, not like any others from the Alliance.”
Lyra guided his fingers to the knot. “You mentioned his kind originated in Terza. Is that why his eyes glow here?”
“I assume so, but I hope his light won’t call danger to us. How does that feel now, Noba?”
“Noba is fine. Ready to go.” His glowing eyes lifted up and cast light on the path ahead.
On this trip through the tunnel, Lyra could see what she had imagined from shadowy images before. Veins of black and white spotted obsidian formed a lacy network through the rock walls, becoming more intricate the deeper and farther they traveled. Water tinted green oozed down the walls in rivulets. In places where the rock cut under, drips pattered to the floor with the hypnotic sound she dreaded. She side-stepped the green puddles, while Noba splashed through them, oblivious.
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