“For making this night extra special with wonderful food and company, I want to offer a magical wish from my dragon, Galbinus, to my new friends.”
Hearing his name, the dragon shot out a long flame from his position guarding the bow of the golden starp.
“At any time you are in need, you may take hold of his tail and make a wish. He will become anything you wish and then return to me only when he is released from your service.”
Galbinus arched his long neck backward and shot a spray of sparks high into the air.
Other fishermen in the circle nodded and cheered.
Cullen gave a low bow. “Thank you for your kind gift. We may well find ourselves in need before we leave Aria.”
The music began again with an even livelier tune. Dancing and song lasted until the moon set on the horizon.
At last, Neo guided the four guests to beds. Kenzo and Noba were shown to braided rugs at one side in the dining hall. She led Lyra and Cullen into the next shanty, where pallets of softly woven cloth were made up behind a red patterned fabric hanging. The air had been perfumed with flowery incense. Lyra breathed deeply and thanked her hostess who found her own sleeping place across the room with Pisca and their son.
Lyra removed her cloak and stretched.
Cullen did the same and motioned for her to repin the jadestone brooch onto her dress. After she lay down, he spooned behind and wrapped an arm around her waist, nuzzling his nose into her hair. You were beautiful dancing tonight. A few minutes later, his breath became soft and slow with sleep.
Lyra remained awake, listening to the sounds of Aria and hoped for this peace to come to the Alliance. In Cullen’s warm embrace, the white noise of insects buzzing lulled her mind to drift. The hum shifted into a coarse whisper—a familiar male voice. Your aura, the quinta essentia, will be mine!
She sat upright, covered in sweat, hoping what she heard was the effect of the wine. Outside, a single jagged bolt of lightning sliced across the sky.
Cullen slept peacefully, and she nestled back into his side.
Chapter Nineteen: The Challenge
Against a background of ethereal pre-dawn glow, the mist billowing over Galbinus’s horned head in the starp made Lyra wonder if she was actually awake or still feeling the effects of that extra cup of wine. Her head hurt, and her eyes felt heavy. Pisca insisted they get an early start to be able to enjoy the readings given by the king and queen on this first full day of spring.
She longed for a strong cup of tea and leaned against Cullen’s shoulder.
“You look tired. Didn’t you sleep?” he asked.
“A little. You seemed to sleep like a baby.” She curled tighter into the blanket Neo had given her, along with a bag of breakfast food. Hunger didn’t register at this early hour, and the sack lay at her feet.
Cullen stretched his back. “I feel refreshed. That meal was exceptional last evening.”
“You slept well thanks to that spell I cast on you during the ribbon dance. Every time I looked your way, you were staring at me and smiling.”
Cullen’s lips drew into a sly grin. “And you believe I was thinking about you during that dance?”
“Well, while you were asleep, I read your mind and it was full of images of me during that dance…wearing slightly less than I actually was.”
He chuckled. “No wonder I slept so well. We’ll have to try that dance back home when we’re not on a quest. What kept you up?”
“I think it was the wine. I had a second mugful since I was so thirsty after dancing. I heard an evil voice, someone who wanted my aura. I hope it’s not an omen.” She shivered and couldn’t bring herself to say out loud whose voice it sounded like.
Cullen shook his head and looked at her, his brow drawn tight.
They sat in silence, watching the sun rise. It seemed to pause and float on the horizon in front of them.
“The sun she teases us to catch up to her.” Pisca glanced back at his new friends. “Let’s see if she’s game enough to call upon her partner, the wind, to puff our sails full.” He opened and secured the sails. At the exact moment he finished, the sun lifted off the horizon, and a brisk breeze filled the sails of their boat. “The race is on!”
When the sun hung halfway in its path to the top of the sky, Pisca steered the starp into a narrow channel filled with dozens of boats all sailing the same direction. After they traveled farther, Lyra saw more tributaries converging on their route. Hundreds of small boats floated to an open body of calm nebule.
Pisca’s golden starp with Galbinus sitting prominently at the bow compared well to others. While some were festooned with elaborate carvings and twice the size with closed cabins for passengers, others were tiny and unpainted. Those looked like crude houseboats, filled with piles of belongings. Pisca must have been a talented or lucky fisherman and made a good living.
Flower petals floated everywhere on the lake of smooth sunlit stratus clouds. Beyond stood the temple of the king, what Pisca called the grand aula. Boats lined every foot of the banks. A magnificent building rose tall, formed from cumulus clouds that looked remarkably like marble. Tall Corinthian pillars supported a long veranda in front of the massive building. The area past the boat docks was terraced into something like an amphitheater that faced the portico. Behind a large podium hung tremendous white banners bearing gold coats of arms in the shape of a bird of prey. Seating on the terraces could accommodate thousands, and by the way the boats kept coming, Lyra expected the theater to be filled.
The Arials came in all manner of pale dress. A few men stood apart, formally dressed in all white. Gold insignia and ropes embellished their long, fitted jackets. Some women wore finely embroidered long tunic-dresses, while others wore roughly woven pants and shirts like the men that accompanied them. The crowd seemed happy and eager to take part in whatever was about to happen.
A man waved, directing Pisca to dock space for his starp. “Was watching for you, and good thing since you have many with you today,” the man called out as he grabbed a rope and tethered the boat. While he worked, his eyes barely left the newcomers.
Once all moved ashore, Pisca clapped the man on the back. “Hello, Daryd. Seems like your catches have been plentiful.” He rubbed the round belly of the other fisherman. “Please meet my new friends who crossed the portal of the World Tree yesterday.”
Daryd studied each of them carefully, then shot out a hand to Cullen and nodded to Lyra. “You all bear the mark of Silva Caliga. Welcome.”
Surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, they exchanged greetings with the plump fisherman.
“I expect you’ll be wanting to meet the king and queen today.” He turned to Pisca. “Let’s get them to an official before they’re swarmed by this crowd.” Daryd’s eyes scanned the amphitheater. “Good thing you arrived early.”
Cullen held out his wristlet for Noba to perch and turned around to address Kenzo. “If you’d rather—”
“No thanks. With all these people, I’ll fly,” the owl snapped and promptly extended his wings.
“Visitors from other worlds are rare and make everyone curious,” Pisca said as he leaned close and guided Lyra and Cullen up the bank toward the center walkway.
Daryd kept close on the other side of their group. “There’s Belray. Head toward him. He’s a reliable sort, even if he is snooty.”
Lyra felt like she was a celebrity whisked along by bodyguards. As they passed, everyone stopped and watched. The people there seemed peaceful and friendly. But avoiding contact was best since she and Cullen needed to retrieve that missing book written by Nareene as soon as possible.
A tall man dressed in a formal white suit with gold adornments stood erect on the steps leading to the portico. When he spied Pisca’s group, he descended to meet them at the bottom. Like Daryd, he took a moment to read them. He looked down his thin, long nose at each of them. “Guests from Silva Caliga.” Once satisfied, he turned toward Pisca and said, “You must have been fishing in the south.” W
ithout waiting for a reply, he addressed Cullen. “My name is Belray, head courier to King Eos. By your energies, you seem to be nobles, especially since you possess such a handsome owl. I’ve not seen that species. Quite remarkable.” He stared at Kenzo for a moment and then continued. “Come with me.” The courier spun on the heel of his boot and strode between the enormous columns.
Their group, still protected by the two fishermen, followed him into the portico. The columns, ceiling, and floor looked almost identical to white marble. Only the styrofoam-like feel under her feet clued Lyra to the difference. On the back wall hung white banners decorated with a golden bird coat of arms. The bird held a fish in its mouth—an osprey.
Belray stopped abruptly, and his height of at least seven feet towered over Lyra. “You have an unusual energy about you, one that I cannot place. What shall I tell my king is the matter which brings your group to Aria?”
“We’re here to make a trade for the copy of the Book of Dragonspeir authored by Scribe Nareene. It’s reported to be in Aria,” she replied, standing as straight as possible.
The courier tucked his chin and looked down upon her from a sharper angle. “And who are you to be able to offer a worthy trade?”
“I’m Lyra McCauley, the fifth Scribe of Dragonspeir, and this is my guide, Sire Cullen Drake, Imperial Sorcerer of the Alliance.” She motioned to Cullen who bowed low.
Belray’s jaw dropped slightly, but he didn’t return any gesture or words of greeting. “Follow me to the foyer outside the king’s court.” Again, he spun on this boot heel and marched to the twenty-foot high archway. He saluted the two guards who lifted their crossed flags and admitted him.
As Lyra started to pass into the receiving hall, she heard Belray’s booming voice. “I announce the entry of more nobles from Dragonspeir: Scribe Lyra McCauley, Sire Cullen Drake, and their assistants. They bear the World Tree’s mark of friendship with Aria.”
The guards blocked the two fishermen, but permitted the guests from Dragonspeir to enter.
Lyra wound her hand into the crook of Cullen’s elbow and silently asked, More nobles from Dragonspeir?
Before he could answer, a purple laser shot directly at her from the other side of the foyer. The black amber necklace, made for the first Scribe, protected Lyra as it always had. But, for the first time, it absorbed the evil energy with a horrible crackling. She felt a startling burning sensation as the shape of the butterfly pendant grew uncomfortably warm against her skin. Lyra raised a hand to her throat, but dropped it away when she caught sight of her attacker—Eburscon.
Lyra’s pulse raced and Eburscon’s voice from her dream reverberated in her mind. She let go of Cullen’s arm and clamped her fist tight to feel the back of her dragon bloodswear ring pressing against her fingers. She scooted Noba and Kenzo to the open arms of guards at the side of the hall.
“You look surprised to see me, Adalyra. Did you really think I had perished? Still just a simpleton, aren’t you,” the alchemist called from his position close to large double wooden doors.
Guards surrounded him but backed away when they saw the sapphire of Cullen’s staff spark and his whole body radiate with the blue of his aura.
The wizard lowered his staff and hurled a massive bolt of sapphire light at the exiled alchemist.
“Cohibeo!” Boosting its force with a large mass of her aura, the eyes of Lyra’s dragon ring glowed and enacted the incantation.
Eburscon dodged Cullen’s shot and let out a long cackle of laughter, even as Lyra’s magic restrained his body against the floor.
“What is happening here? Cease fire at once!” Belray thundered, drawing his sword from the scabbard at his hip. He whipped it through the air. The blade gleamed with magical golden light, slicing and detonating the fragments of Dragonspeir magic that ricocheted off the walls.
With a haughty smile, the alchemist rose and straightened his purple velvet cloak. He tossed his long, peppered braid over his shoulder. Ignoring the direction of the courier, he continued to engage Cullen. “My former colleague is out of practice. Your energy feeds on Alliance magnetics. Time in Terza, Silva Caliga, and Aria may prove your bane and my fortune.” His fingers pulsed with his purple aura.
“Stop him!” Belray ordered.
Guards fired harpoons of light at the alchemist.
Eburscon’s fire came off quicker, shooting a powerball at the wizard.
Cullen’s whole hand, now a vivid blue, clamped onto his staff. “Incutio!” His laser met Eburscon’s in the middle of the vaulted ceiling and wrapped around it.
“Exstinguo!” Lyra let go a detonation charm.
In the fraction of a second before her magic met the target, the alchemist crooked a finger. He pulled the violet and blue whirling mass toward him, confusing both her spell and the guards’ weapons.
Additional guards spilled into the entryway. Light trailing from their harpoons encircled her and Cullen. Lyra’s ability to move her power became sluggish, but she felt no pain.
“Don’t let that reach him!” Cullen shouted to her. “Use our jadestones! Touch me.”
Lyra reached out to contact him, giving him the advantage of sending her power through his staff. She hoped it would compensate for the hindrance of the guards’ restraints.
Cullen fired a massive ball of blue light but was too late.
The amalgam of energy reached Eburscon sooner, and he formed it into a glowing shield that blocked the incoming strikes from both Cullen and the guards. The resulting power the alchemist held at his surface proved uncontrollable. It exploded into jagged bolts, cutting in all directions.
Couriers on the side of the hall ducked while guards rushed at Eburscon, Cullen, and Lyra.
The largest bolt cut through the ceiling, and its effects resounded with a loud peel of thunder. Rain sheeted down outside, and the thousands gathered screamed.
Blocked by a circle of a dozen guards with crossed harpoons, Lyra’s body and aura were immobilized.
Cullen and Eburscon were secured the same way.
Belray strode among the circles, glaring. “You shall not disrupt our kingdom! If you wish to make offers of trade, you will present them peacefully. If not, you will be deposed at once. Do you understand?” He eyed each, waiting for a response.
Unable to speak, Lyra nodded.
The head courier waved an arm, and the three circles of guards escorted them through the tall wooden doors. Lyra felt her legs move but not from her own control. Under her feet, a large white rug with the same golden bird coat of arms decorated the floor. Above the heads of the guards, banners like those on the portico hung from the interior walls, all with the same raptor. She couldn’t see Noba or Kenzo but hoped they were safe.
“King Eos and Queen Mysa, please pardon my interruption.” Belray cleared his throat. “I have just received guests from Dragonspeir who wish to trade. Four possess the mark of the World Tree and other noble energies—Scribe Lyra McCauley, Sire Cullen Drake, and their two assistants. One bears no such brand of friendly passage—Sire Eburscon.”
Between the arms of her captors, Lyra saw the king pound his scepter on the low table beside his throne. “I heard fire outside. Tell me what happened.”
Belray rushed to the king’s side and gave an account which Lyra couldn’t hear, but his animated gestures conveyed his meaning.
King Eos waved his scepter, emitting a wide cloud of golden light. “You have disrupted my kingdom. As guests from Dragonspeir, I have keen interest in your offers of trade. But I will not do business with those who do not honor our desire for peace.” He nodded toward Belray.
In turn, the courier directed the guards to partially open their circles, giving Lyra a view of the throne.
The king glowered at the guests, his eyes sparking glints of gold. He dressed in the colors of the kingdom, white with adornments of gold. His tunic fit trimly across his broad chest and a wide golden jeweled belt cinched at his waist. He seemed remarkably trim for a man old enough to have whit
e hair. It hung long, in a single plait falling from under his gold crown to the middle of his back. A neat white beard covered his face, ruddy with anger. “Let us proceed in a more civilized manner. Do I have your word?” He looked from Eburscon to Cullen and Lyra.
“You have my word, your highness. I offer my apologies,” Cullen said and bowed to the floor.
“Please accept my apology.” Lyra followed suit and bowed.
“Please rise.” King Eos turned toward the alchemist who merely bowed his head and smiled. The king narrowed his eyes at the alchemist. “Sire Eburscon, what reason do you have for initiating an attack on the other guests?”
“Simply, we are in competition for the same trade, and I intend to gain both that and the consequential reward it will bring.” Eburscon stood tall, his face plastered with a sly grin. It startled Lyra how much his expression reminded her of the frozen features on the Vizard’s masks.
“I don’t appreciate your vagueness. Your insincerity speaks loudly.” King Eos powered his scepter with his aura and began to point it at Eburscon, but the queen leaned forward and touched his arm. He relented but signaled four guards to surround the alchemist.
Queen Mysa encouraged the king to be seated next to her on their thrones. “Let’s hear both of their offers. We may have reason to make desirable gain.” She looked lovely, prepared to speak to the public in a fine white gown with gold embroidery. Her hair was swept up with dozens of loops and braids. She wore gold rings on every finger. A large pendant with a translucent yellow stone hung at her throat, matching earrings dangling from her lobes.
With a few grumbles, Eos sat in his massive chair of ornately carved wood. “Sire Drake and Lady Lyra, please come closer.” Eos settled back into his seat and lifted a forearm protected with a golden wristlet.
Suddenly, Kenzo sailed over Lyra’s head and nearly collided with a golden osprey as both birds attempted to land on the king’s arm.
Attempting to follow, Noba darted past her, but she held him at her skirt.
Cullen called to his assistant. “Kenzo, I don’t think that King Eos meant that—”
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