The pair retaliated with teamwork, one in charge of maintaining the debilitating effluvial cloud while its partner attacked with open mouth and dripping fangs.
The bronze dragon took a serious hit, a deep bite at his shoulder that looked like it cut through his wing tendon. The main sail sagged lower than the one on his other side.
Kenzo soared to perch on a spine near Yasqu’s wound. With spread wings, the owl’s beak gaped and his face contorted as he tried his best to ward off another attack.
“Noba, you are my familiar and I command you—mico cauda hostes hostium!” Cullen’s voice carried above the din of roars, hisses, and groans. His hand glowed blue with his aura as it rested against the scales of the pseudodragon.
“Noba will serve Master.” With his barbed tail held high and no longer shaking, he walked deliberately into the midst of the battle. He stopped directly in front of the single scorpent. He tilted his head back and looked up at the beast nearly fifty times his size.
The scorpent watched, unable to move.
Noba’s tail whipped in a circle, and the tip glowed orange. Abruptly, he extended it forward, and a spark shot out like a missile at the beast’s chest.
The scorpent let out a guttural moan that shook the ground and echoed along the tunnel walls. It staggered backward, aiming to turn at the connecting intersection. Instead, the hulk of its body crashed onto many of the Vizards who didn’t get away fast enough. The protective cloud of pipe smoke thinned around those who remained.
In response, Cullen volleyed powerballs where their forms were visible.
Those he hit fell to the stone floor but made sure to cover their faces with hands or clothing before they lost their undead lives. Lyra guessed, from what had happened to the whore, Valeria, their masks offered some protection against being forced into a state of bone-crypt.
Noba only needed to turn toward the other two scorpents before they sped back into the adjoining tunnels.
Lyra stepped forward and wavered as she checked Yasqu.
“Wait. You first. Do you require more healing for your injury?” Cullen asked, touching the side of her head. “You took a fierce strike.”
“My balance is off, but my mind seems clear enough, clearer than before in these tunnels when they were filled with smoke.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “It must be Elisabeth’s magic…in her book. It has to be. And that explains how I can counter effluvium.”
“I hope their smoke doesn’t affect you later, after you’ve internalized it.” He rubbed his open palms over her head. “I don’t sense anything amiss, other than your balance. I mended some, but a few deeper tissues evade me. I’ll try again later.”
She stood straighter and stretched the stiffness from her neck.
The dragon flattened his injured shoulder lower, and Kenzo flew to the ground.
Lyra’s fingers traced Yasqu’s wound.
Yasqu didn’t complain when she began, only uttering a soft whimper when she probed deep into his damaged tissue with her power.
Cullen wrapped and fastened Lyra’s cloak around her while she worked.
Suddenly, her head spun. She braced herself against the dragon’s side and pulled her arms down. “I did a first pass and mended the deepest structures. You need to focus on stopping bleeding and easing the pain. It’s a bad wound.” She turned to the owl. “Kenzo, are you injured?”
“Fully functioning!” he chirped while extending one wing, then the other. “Thanks to you for removing that black magic smoke. Good trick you learned!”
Cullen applied healing for a couple minutes but was interrupted by Lesot.
“We need to move from here since more scorpents may challenge the death of one of their own,” Lesot said and walked past the carcass.
“Yasqu, I think you’re good to walk but favor that wing. No flying,” Cullen said as he patted the base of the dragon’s neck.
“I’m fine to walk,” Yasqu replied and rose onto his haunches with a grimace.
Lyra caught up to Cullen before turning to follow their guide. “How were you able to command Noba? I couldn’t. Was it your spell?”
“Yes, but I charged that incantation with the magic bond he and I share as master and familiar. I’d almost forgotten how to use that connection. Hadn’t used it since he was a hatchling newly awarded to me.”
Lyra exhaled slowly. “That was close. I’m glad you remembered it. Why didn’t the Imperial Dragon warn us that scorpents might challenge Yasqu?”
“Maybe when he visited Terza matans controlled the scorpents and he had no trouble. Didn’t Omin and Kon say they had matans?”
“True. My father has told he was honored with one until about two hundred years ago,” Angom replied.
The wizard whistled to Noba. “Let’s get out of here. Terza magic isn’t the easiest to fight.”
The corners of Lyra’s mouth lifted into a grin. “Oh, I thought you enjoyed being overpowered by Tayzia.”
With a smile plastered across the pseudodragon’s face, he scampered to Cullen’s side. “Noba killed the mean snake-beast for Master.”
Cullen chuckled and shook his head while motioning them forward more quickly to follow Lesot.
The Malificate guided them through a series of tunnels, all main passageways large enough for Yasqu.
Angom secured the rear of their group.
After several turns, a loud hissing noise reverberated at a tunnel crossing. Lesot picked up their pace through the darker outer tunnels between villages. Soon, streetlamps led the way into a town. The lights shined brighter with no dark smoke hanging in the air. Lyra was thankful to be without the mental fog of the effluvium since she already fought against impaired balance.
Clanking and slamming sounds came from the distant village, but when their group arrived, it appeared like a ghost town. No sign of anyone. Windows in the houses and shops were dark with lights out and shades drawn.
Lesot hurried them past vacant stoops. A piece of what looked like cardboard fluttered out from under the steps leading to the brothel. Although there was no wind at all in Terza, the object floated toward them. It spun as if caught in a whirlwind and then fell at Noba’s feet—Valeria’s Vizard mask drawn into a wicked grin.
Lyra stooped to pick it up, wondering if she could empower it to save the woman.
The mask evaded her fingers and followed Noba.
The familiar let out a piercing yelp and took off running.
Kenzo flew after him, and the mask followed.
Lyra held her messenger bag tight to her side and caught hold of Cullen’s hand. They ran through the rest of the town, slowing only when they reached the dark outskirts and couldn’t see either owl or pseudodragon. Without Noba’s light, their eyes needed to adjust to the dim glow of the obsidian inclusions embedded in the walls.
The Malificate’s eyes acclimated quicker. Lesot and Angom urged the others to speed up. “I’d depart from their group here, but they need guides more now without their matan,” Lesot said to his friend.
Angom nodded.
They jogged without pause through more turns than Lyra could count. At one, she imagined a slithering sound, but it seemed to mix with everyone’s panting breath.
At the next intersection, a hissing noise reverberated. Angom pulled them to a stop and cautiously approached the corner alone. He wrapped his fingers around the stone edge, then withdrew back to the group. “A scorpent lies off the next crossroads beyond. They hunt with smell, tasting air. We’ll use the dragon to block our smells in the tunnel while we cross. Be ready to run fast to the portal.”
Lyra and Cullen nodded and crept next to Yasqu’s right side, protected in front and behind by their Malificate guides. With Angom setting the pace, the group eased into the intersection. When they reached the far edge, the hissing accelerated into a shrill cry, intensifying each second.
The four sprinted with Yasqu close behind. Unable to see, Lyra and Cullen helped each other over missteps on cracked stonework. Leso
t’s vision must have been better, quickly taking corners Lyra never saw until right at the turns.
The piercing whirr pursued fast, catching up to them.
Lyra’s heart pounded in her chest. A familiar dripping noise told her they had risen to where underground streams cut through the walls near the entrance. She let out a ragged breath. The tunnel grew lighter, and she strained her eyes for a glimpse of her lost friends. They were nowhere to be seen or heard, but the hissing was so loud she couldn’t hear much else.
Blinding sun rays streamed through the portal from Dragonspeir and forced them to slow their pace. She hoped the scorpent suffered the same problem.
Lyra crawled up the steps while she looked unsuccessfully all around for the Vizard’s mask that had chased Noba and Kenzo.
Cullen paused behind with their guides who seemed uncertain what to do.
A roar from Yasqu told her the beast was on him.
She glanced back to see his tail between its scorpion pinchers.
The dragon flipped his neck to one side and blasted a shower of flames over the scorpent. The claws opened, and he bounded for the portal, using the tip of his wing to push the four in front of him into Dragonspeir.
Chapter Thirteen: Read With Your Aura
Blinded by the angled rays of the setting sun, Lyra crawled a short distance from the portal and stopped to shield her eyes.
“Lyra! Move farther away!” Cullen yelled.
The outline of the scorpent’s head rose from the open portal.
Lyra got her legs under her and ran toward Cranewort.
The ancient tree sent out a branch, which she gladly used to steady herself.
Lesot and Angom took the cue and followed.
Cullen stopped at a safe distance. He planted his staff and rotated it, sending a shower of his blue aura far around the portal into the surrounding woods and sky. He bombed the head of the beast with blasts of huge powerballs. By the size of his shots, it was clear that Terza magic had hindered him. Energized by Dragonspeir magnetics, he fought with renewed power.
Yasqu also seemed invigorated, despite his injured wing tucked against his side. He covered the scorpent in a blanket of flames so thick, Lyra wondered how Cullen could see to aim.
The chaos of their attack gave her an idea, and she summoned a large mass of aura into her hand. The overly large softball-sized powerball, normally too unwieldy, was just what she wanted this time. With the lumpy mass in her palm, she grabbed another too-large portion of her aura and set the sphere in flight toward the portal.
When the huge golden mass passed Cullen, he stopped and ran a distance from the crossroads.
Yasqu half leapt, half flew into the forest.
An explosion of power burst as high as the tree tops, like a grenade going off.
As if from out of nowhere, the Imperial Dragon appeared, surrounded by the blaze.
Lyra screamed and ran closer.
The leader hovered in the fire, unaffected and breathing long jags of flame at the writhing neck of the scorpent.
Lyra’s powerball bathed him in a magnificent radiance. Unlike before, her aura now matched the exact shade of gold of the Imperial Dragon’s scales and flames.
She dropped to her knees, watching the amazing sight.
Cullen rested a hand on her shoulder. “Elisabeth’s power must be yours now.” His voice shook, alerting Lyra to read his thoughts through their touch. He feared that enemies would want her aura even more now.
She covered his hand with her own.
Joining the Imperial Dragon’s effort, Yasqu added his own unique color of flames.
Without interrupting his firepower, the leader held out his foreclaw containing one of the Axiolite Obsidian pair. White beams shot downward from the rock, but its mate couldn’t be seen in the mass of flames below. Together, the two dragons forced the head of the scorpent lower into the fiery pit.
The leader flew to the side and watched the fire die to reveal a sealed portal. He closed his talons over the stone and nodded to Yasqu. “Well done.”
The younger dragon made a formal bow, lowering his long neck along the ground as he said, “It is my honor to serve.”
“Raise your head. You honor me by your bravery in the face of injury.” The Imperial Dragon ran the tip of his wing along the limp shoulder of the bronze. “You need urgent care.” He turned to face Cullen and Lyra. “Please mend him at once. A dragon who cannot fly risks his life.”
They hurried to Yasqu’s side and set to work on the wound.
“Have you seen any sign of Kenzo or Noba?” Lyra asked Cullen.
He shook his head, but didn’t look away from the delicate procedure of reforming the main wing joint. “Hopefully, Cranewort has some information.”
The leader hovered over them until he seemed satisfied of progress, then addressed the Gatekeeper. “Sentry Cranewort, I commend you for your outstanding abilities in clairvoyance, alerting me to come at once. You will be formally honored, yet again, my dear friend. Did you see any sign of Sire Drake’s helpers?” He paused, smoke still billowing from his nostrils.
“Thank you, my lord,” the huge tree replied and bent his upper trunk into a sort of a bow, accompanied by a chorus of creaks and pops. “And, yes, I did receive a visual reading of the owl and pseudodragon.”
Lyra didn’t dare look away from rebuilding wing membranes, but called over to him, “Where are they?”
“Are they safe?” Cullen asked.
“Yes. They’re in eastern Silva Caliga with some kindly spirits of the tass and otase trees.”
Cullen’s eyebrows rose. “They came out a different portal? How? That’s so far from here.”
“Powers of the matan are incredible,” Lesot replied, stepping out from behind Cranewort’s wide trunk.
The Gatekeeper twisted a branch to the back side of his trunk. “Please show yourselves, gentlemen. You came to our aid. Our leader is kind. Do not fear.”
Lesot and Angom slowly stepped toward the crossroads. The fading light of sunset showed more of their appearance than the dim glow from the obsidian veins in Terza. Their skin looked greener and less gray than before. Lesot was clearly older with touches of gray in his hair. Black dust stained Angom’s skin and hair. Both wore the same hairstyle—bald except for wrapped ponytails growing from patches of hair at their crowns.
“Come closer without fear,” the Head Guardian urged. “I sensed foreign energy but knew it belonged to no foe.”
As the two Malificates passed, their clothing seemed shabbier than Lyra remembered. Lesot’s gray tunic was threadbare, and his knees showed through holes in his leggings. Angom’s olive trousers were badly stained with obsidian dust. The contrast of his musty odor with the fresh air hit Lyra and made her nose wrinkle. The pair stopped in front of the leader. “We mean not any harm,” Lesot said with a noticeably shaky voice.
“I’m sure you don’t. You obviously helped these three of ours escape unharmed. You will be treated with kindness here in the Alliance of Dragonspeir.” He bowed his head, and they timidly returned the gesture. “Sadly, you are sealed off from reentering your land here. I expect this portal will be monitored for days. But it’s easy enough for arrangements to be made to transport you to another portal, the safest being the one we just mentioned.”
The two Malificates looked at each other. Angom cleared his throat. “That will do us fine. Thanks be yours. Our elders speak highly of your rule and this kingdom.”
“Thank you, but it’s not a kingdom, and I do not rule. I merely lead a council of four Guardians who govern by the wishes of the people.”
Cullen sat back on the ground, leaning on his hands. “We’ve done all the preliminary healing we can. More will need to follow in the next couple of days. Yasqu, you should be able to fly short distances using great care. Try moving it.”
The young dragon lifted his wing from the shoulder. His motion was stiff and slow. “Yes. It’s better.” He took two wide strides and lifted a few feet
off the ground, sailing in a wide circle around the crossroads clearing. “I can fly again!” he called down to them. He landed and tiny puffs of smoke escaped his nostrils, reminding Lyra of when he was a hatchling just learning to do somersaults. He held out a forearm and hugged her with his battered tail as she embraced his arm.
“Very good!” The Imperial Dragon stepped closer to Lyra. He bent low, and the traces of smoke seeping out of his nostrils stopped. “Now that we are safe, let me ask if your mission was successful.”
Yasqu joined the group and fixed his eyes on Lyra.
She lifted the strap of her messenger bag that crossed her chest. Kneeling, she rummaged inside and withdrew the copy of the first Book of Dragonspeir. Handling it gently, she examined it for damage. Having had no time to properly wrap it, she had slid it into an inner pocket. The volume seemed to have traveled well. With the book resting in her open palms, she held it high to present it to the leader.
Lyra’s aura whirled around her heart. Her lungs expanded to their fullest with deep, satisfied breaths. The magic of the book buzzed across her bare skin and trailed along her arms. She couldn’t wait to read what her ancestor wrote over eight hundred years ago, thoughts and bits of magic like secrets, revealing the essence of being a Scribe and the fundamental premises of Dragonspeir. Knowledge that would open her more fully to afflation and a life of immortality with Cullen. Knowledge to help abolish the Dark Realm. Her mind raced, eager to make all that happiness reality.
“Behold!” Cranewort exclaimed just as Cullen gasped.
Lyra tipped her head back. “Oh!” Bright golden light flared up from the book, embracing the faces of the two dragons and spilling down to completely cover her body.
“My Scribe, you have not only found a copy of this ancient magical doctrine, but also unlocked the powers Elisabeth stored in it. The Tortoise will be delighted to help you open the intricate properties in the text. You have more than succeeded.” The Imperial Dragon stepped back and raised his head high. “Let’s go to the lair! From there I will communicate with Ysmena, the Lady of the Silva Caliga. She’ll keep Sire Drake’s aides safe until tomorrow. Although that forest is neutral territory, it’s unwise to journey through there in the night.”
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