Lyra’s itching finger now burned. A glance revealed it glowed with subtle golden light. She quickly folded it to the near side of her staff, beside her thumb, to hide it from the view of others. Was there a connection between his scar and hers?
Eburscon clutched a hand to his chest. “Your lack of allegiance pains me.” His nostrils flared, and purple aura glowed at his fingertips. “Give me an answer!”
“What began as a partnership has ended with you as the ruler.” Tarom stood with his feet planted wide and kept his gaze steady on Eburscon. “You claimed we three would share the guidance of Lyra’s power. Yet, your recent journal entries show otherwise. You’ve outlined alchemical means to transfer her power outright to you, then plans to kill her so her aura can never be restored to the scribal lineage.”
Lyra perceived Tarom’s statement on a plane separate from the ruby’s influence. She lacked connection to her memories, but the concept that Eburscon intended to steal her power and kill her rang clear. The meaning didn’t convey details, and she wondered what valuable power she possessed. Tarom’s connection, whatever it was, enabled a channel of clarity in her mind unaffected by the ruby.
Eburscon hurled a powerball inches from Tarom’s feet. “I suggest you rethink your allegiance.”
The eyes of Tarom’s staff shot a laser directed at his opponent’s chest.
Eburscon deflected it with another powerball and chuckled a haughty laugh. He blasted the wooden doors open. “Guards! The Black Dragon has been killed! Come at once.”
Two small, dark dragons rushed in. Chaos ensued as they tried to determine who to secure.
Kessa grabbed Lyra’s hand and pulled her into the hall.
On the way out, Lyra snatched the pearl and fluorite from the alcove and shoved them into her pocket with the ruby.
No other guards stood at the entrance.
In the corridor, the girl said, “We must escape.” She looked both ways, then pointed to the left. “This way.” She broke into a stiff-legged run, limited by her leg braces.
After a short distance, Lyra called to her. “You hold my sack, and I’ll carry you. That way we can go faster.” The pair paused long enough to reposition and continued.
With Kessa’s directions, Lyra made two turns. The ruby’s adrenaline fueled her legs. She easily carried the weight of the frail child. In a hundred yards, they navigated a curve to discover daylight.
Surprisingly, no one chased after them. Lyra expected Eburscon to alert others to stop them from escaping. She hoped that meant the ruckus in the leader’s chamber kept him too busy to control her.
A group of several dozen small dragons, similar to those guarding the leader’s chamber, approached from the outside.
Lyra took a deep breath, trying to convince herself that they couldn’t know her status as an escapee. Still, she expected them to be as vicious as the Black Dragon. In order to power her staff, she placed Kessa on her feet.
Instead of fighting, the beasts dropped onto their stomachs, fully prostrated in a show of respect to Lyra. They whispered among themselves, “The shadow of evil.” “She wears the ruler’s shadow of evil.”
“May I have permission to rise?” asked the dragon closest to her, who seemed to be in charge of the group.
“Yes. Rise,” Lyra replied and positioned Kessa behind herself.
“How may we serve you, Dark Leader?” The head dragon motioned others in his group to stand.
Panic hit Lyra. She didn’t know what to request. Her complete connection with the ruby obliterated her sense of guidance. Her gaze darted, unable to make eye contact with any of the dragons. Her limbs trembled more and more until Kessa pulled on her shirt.
When Lyra bent, the girl reached up on tiptoes and whispered in her ear, “Have them take us to the Steppe of Ora.”
Lyra stood tall and announced in a voice as confident as possible, “Take me, along with this child, to the Steppe of Ora.”
The dragons looked at each other, then the leader responded, “Gladly, but the Steppe is a fearsome place of warfare.”
Encouraged by Tarom’s trust in the girl, Lyra nodded. “Yes. That is my destination.”
“Because of our rank, we cannot offer you the safest passage.” He turned and conferred with those behind him. “A cimafa and rider have just arrived. They’re well-suited to take you there.”
Kessa shivered but nodded to Lyra.
“That arrangement will be fine.” Lyra clasped Kessa’s hand and followed the head dragon outside.
The lair lay within a mountain which rose abruptly from dense forest. Thick growth limited Lyra’s vision in all directions. Only a small patch of sunlight fell on the cleared landing ledge. There, a sleek dragon with iridescent black scales and red eyes lowered to the ground, and a tall man dismounted.
The man waved an arm at Lyra. He drew close and bowed low. He dressed in a style similar to Tarom, except his garments were constructed of coarse charcoal wool and his boots of worn leather. He studied her face. “Scribe Lyra, I’m honored to serve you as the new leader of the Dark Realm.”
“I’m sorry. What is your name?” she asked.
A wide grin lit his face. “I’m Symar, Lord of the Tempest. It’s good to see how well you seem to accept your position.” Lyra wondered what knowledge he gained from her lack of memory.
“Yes. We need to be transported to the Steppe of Ora.” She hoped by stating a known landmark, she would improve her credibility.
“That’s what the drakes told me. Is the girl accompanying you?” He eyeballed Kessa.
“Yes. I need her powers to help me,” Lyra replied.
He nodded. “My cimafa and I will be pleased take you both there.” As he motioned toward the great dragon, a necklace swung across his chest, the same violet-gemmed pendant as Eburscon and Tarom—a talisman uniting the three men. This was the other man Eburscon mentioned who plotted to use her power for their gain.
Lyra swallowed hard.
Kessa’s hand perspired in her own, but they held tight to each other.
Chapter Twenty-four: Vengeance
Getting away from the dangers of the dark lair meant Lyra must accept a ride from a man she didn’t trust. She assured herself that Symar couldn’t be informed about the standoff between Tarom and Eburscon. She could use his lack of knowledge to her advantage. Unable to remember whatever mission she must have been pursuing, the goal of keeping herself and Kessa alive seemed paramount.
Her gaze repeatedly wandered to the lair’s entrance, expecting guards to rush out and secure her and Kessa.
Lyra sucked in a ragged breath and prepared for the flight. She reclaimed her sack from Kessa and peered inside to find a bow and violin with a luminous, white stone embedded in its scrolled neck. Lyra bit her lip to subdue a gasp at the stone’s translucence. It reminded her of the pair of gems she’d collected on her way out of the leader’s chamber. She fingered the lumps through the fabric of her pocket to make certain they had remained in place during her run. A third mass caught her attention. She wanted to investigate but didn’t dare expose important items in front of a man she distrusted.
She wondered about the stones. They must hold tremendous power, since Tarom alerted her to get the pearl and fluorite keystones. The new pair didn’t seem to affect her, but after she gave away her aura to the ruby nothing did, not even the black aura that surrounded her body. Again, her logic failed her. She clung to the primal instinct of survival.
Symar removed a flask from a leather pouch at his side and took a long draught. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, stubble covered his jaws, and his dark brown hair lay in tangles down his back. He took a couple steps toward the lair, but Lyra caught his arm. His body odor of spoiled food made her pull away quickly.
“I want to leave right away.” She and Kessa needed to make a quick getaway or risk being restrained by Eburscon. Also, she didn’t want Symar to have the chance to learn the truth, that she had broken free from his partner’s control.
&
nbsp; Symar scanned the sky. “Yes. You’re correct. I was going to find some rations to take along. It’s been a day since I’ve had a meal. But we don’t want to meet nightfall on the Steppe. It’s too dangerous.” Symar ushered Lyra and Kessa to the cimafa and guided them to step onto the beast’s lowered wing tendon. From there, he boosted them to the dragon’s back at positions between protruding spinal plates.
Lyra took a seat first and helped Kessa to a spot directly in front of her, taking extra care with her braced legs.
The girl worked a trembling hand into Lyra’s and held tight. From Kessa’s appearance, Lyra assumed she’d been treated poorly at the lair. Her dress hem hung in shreds, and her thigh-high stockings sagged with rips over the tops of her metal braces. Dirt crusted her nails, and her dark blonde hair matted below a filthy, blood-stained head scarf. Despite the grime, the girl smelled like sweet flowers.
Symar mounted last in front of his guests and glanced over his shoulder. “This stealth dragon is my smoothest flyer, but hang on if the ride gets bumpy.”
The cimafa rose onto its hind legs. After three long strides, the wingsails filled, and it sailed off the ledge to soared high above the forest. The treetops interlocked so tightly, Lyra never gained a glimpse of the ground. The lair disappeared into the distance, and miles of forest lay ahead.
Several minutes passed in silent flight. The dragon flew smooth and steady, only breaking rhythm to glide on air currents. Its frame was sleek compared to the sharp angles of the skeletal Black Dragon or the shorter, thickly muscled drakes.
Almost an hour later, the cimafa made a descent over a village. Dozens of round lodge tents dotted the rocky forest. Herd animals bleated and bellowed at them from inside makeshift corrals. The residents immediately scanned the sky. Spiraled horns grew from the heads of adults, some heavily decorated. Children’s horn buds poked straight through their hair.
Using pressure of his thighs, Symar guided the dragon to land in a clearing a short distance from the camp. “The safest entrance to the Steppe is from the western edge where these Qumeli nomads have set up camp. This route makes the trip longer, so we’ll take a short break here.” When the beast halted and lowered, Symar jumped to the wing tendon and helped Kessa and Lyra dismount. “My cimafa and I have flown since sunset last night and need some food. Care to join me?”
“I don’t remember the last time I ate,” Lyra replied while helping the girl to the ground.
Kessa’s eyes swept from side to side while she clung to Lyra’s arm.
Symar laughed and touched the girl’s shoulder, which caused her to flinch. “Looking for your friend, the chief?” After he directed two young men how to care for the cimafa, he strode toward a row of tents.
Lyra held Kessa back and followed at a distance that allowed her privacy to ask, “Who are these people? What happened to you?”
Kessa’s jaw dropped. “The ruby has your aura. Did you give it all?”
“I don’t remember.” Lyra drew her right hand to her forehead, trying to assist her memory. The scar on her finger quivered. Instead of the answer she sought, a vision formed, lucid and free of the ruby’s heat. On the surface of a magical pool of water she viewed four of these horned Qumeli. They tortured Kessa for information about where to find the keystones. She gasped and clamped a thumb over the scar. Again, the theme of the keystones. She wondered why they were so important.
“The Qumeli are bad people, who work black magic,” the girl whispered as they walked. She uncoiled Lyra’s thumb, then replaced it. “Tarom?”
Lyra nodded.
“He instructed me to help you escape.”
Lyra bent down and replied in a hushed tone, “You wouldn’t tell the Qumeli where to find the keystones. Correct?”
Kessa shook her head and fingered the tail of her headscarf. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she whimpered, “They held me prisoner for Eburscon. He wanted that knowledge. When I refused, they killed my maema…and they did this.” She pushed strands of her dark blond hair back from her shoulder and lifted the edge of a head scarf to reveal a mutilated ear. Only shreds of scarred soft tissue remained.
“Oh my!” Lyra exclaimed. Sorrow cut her heart for only an instant before the ruby turned the emotion to vengeance. She wrapped a hand around the gem in her pocket and scanned the villagers they passed, looking for any who seemed to recognize Kessa.
This proved impossible since the tribespeople behaved like the group of drakes at the lair. They glanced her way and whispered among themselves in a foreign tongue, then dropped onto their stomachs on the ground.
Lyra pulled the scarf from Kessa’s head, waved a hand toward the tortured flesh, and demanded in a loud voice, “Who did this?”
Only another round of whispers answered her.
“Who did this? I expect an answer!” Eager to wield more power, the ruby’s will flooded her body. She withdrew the red gem from her pocket and thrust it at the crowd.
A wave of panic spread through the tribal folk. Amid a chaos of murmurs and whimpers, the crowd pushed a pair of matronly women toward Lyra.
Kessa gasped for air and jerked behind Lyra.
Lyra rested the beam of deadly red light inches from the feet of the two women who sobbed uncontrollably. “Who did this?” she growled.
The heavier woman pointed a shaking finger at the second tent in the row nearest the crowd. “Elder chief,” she stammered in long, broken syllables.
Lyra waved her staff in the direction of the specified tent. The crowd parted as she strode to its entry, Kessa still clinging to her backside. Lyra lit the canvas ceiling on fire with the ruby’s light.
Moments later, a man exited. He stood tall, wearing a red patterned blanket draped from one shoulder diagonally across his chest. Multiple strands of red beads decorated horns that encircled his ears. He wore a stoic expression, but a glint of recognition sparked in his dark pupils. He quickly bowed his head to Lyra and spoke in slow but fluent language Lyra understood. “We meet again. I am honored to have helped the Dark Realm gain you as its leader.”
She gripped Kessa’s shoulder and pulled her forward, displaying the tortured ear. “Did you do this,” Lyra demanded, her chin thrust out.
“I did. The deed forced you to the lair to become the new ruler.” The chief lifted his chest.
Adrenaline swelled throughout Lyra’s body. She pulled Kessa against her chest, protected by red-gold light spilling from her staff’s orb. The ruby flashed. In one swift motion, Lyra slashed its light across the chief’s neck. His body slumped, limbs still jerking reflexively, while his head spun in the waning beam, eyes bulged with surprise.
Shaking, Kessa buried her face in Lyra’s chest and hugged her waist.
A wave of screams brought more villagers out of their tents, including Symar. He strode through the crowd to Lyra and surveyed the dead body parts. “You’ve sure changed. The shadow of evil suits you.” He shook his head and popped the last bite of a biscuit into his mouth. “We need to get back in flight.” Over his shoulder, he called to a young woman. “Sack up some of these biscuits for us.” He snapped his fingers at the young men who handled his cimafa and faced Lyra. “I doubt you had time to eat.”
Lyra didn’t reply. Her mind swarmed, the rush of murder feeding the ruby.
They found the cimafa at the edge of a corral preying upon a herd animal. The stealth dragon sucked colored light from the lesser beast’s eyes into its own wide snout. A small, dead carcass fell to the ground, legs twitching with nervous reflexes much like the chief’s body.
Lyra stared at the scene, the ruby reveling again in her own act.
Kessa pulled on Lyra’s arm, breaking her from the fixation.
As they mounted, Symar took a sack of food from the young woman. He offered it to his guests, but neither accepted. “I’ll stash this in my side pack, if you change your mind.”
When they settled into flight, he glanced behind at Lyra. “Eburscon did well picking you for the new Dark Realm leader. I d
idn’t think you’d have enough innate grit to carry it off. I was sure wrong.”
“Yes. It seems to suit me,” she said absently, distracted by a sudden itchiness on her finger scar. She waited for an image or message. Words formed in a tiny part of her mind the ruby couldn’t access, Get the four keystones and the Staurolite to the Alliance.
She silently repeated the sentence to be certain to remember, then began breaking down the meaning. The pearl and fluorite were two keystones. She carried so many other gems, she didn’t know which were keystones. Hoping to get further direction, she scratched the scar. Abruptly, the sensation stopped. For the first time, the finger felt like any other.
“What did Eburscon want you to do at the Steppe of Ora?” Symar asked.
“I don’t know. He didn’t say,” distracted by the change in her finger, Lyra rolled off a too-quick answer.
“No matter. He probably needed to get information from an incoming group of drakes before he sent war tactics he wanted you to carry out.”
Lyra shuddered. Eburscon could manipulate her from a distance. That explained why no guards chased after Kessa and her in the lair. She stared at the silent scar and wondered what happened to Tarom. She feared he’d been killed or seriously injured. Without connection to him, hope seemed lost. Her fate lay in a battle of greed between Eburscon and the ruby.
Her gaze drifted along the horizon, and she ran her fingers through Kessa’s hair. If she could do nothing else of value, she could comfort the kind child who’d suffered so much while involved with dilemmas on her own behalf.
As Lyra combed, her hand brushed her own collar and discovered a large brooch with two smaller gems hanging from it. She wondered if any of those were the other two keystones. Unable to examine them while in flight, she fingered each. The two that hung down felt smooth but otherwise unremarkable. The flat stone of the pin seemed cool and inviting, like swimming in a tranquil forest pool with someone who loved her. Still holding the brooch, she embraced Kessa with her other arm and kissed the girl’s head.
Enchanted Bookstore Legends (5-book complete epic fantasy romance box set) Page 122