“She and I rode with Symar.” Lyra shuddered. “When we stopped for a break at the western Qumeli village, I remember killing the chief who’d cut off Kessa’s ear. And I remember enjoying his death.”
“The ruby enjoyed his death.” Mimio laid down her pen and rubbed Lyra’s shoulder.
“After that point, my plan failed,” the alchemist continued and shook his head. “While Lyra and Kessa flew to the Steppe with Symar, Eburscon overpowered me in a fight and held me captive in an enchanted cell.” Tarom lowered his gaze. “It required more time than I’d planned to find a way to use fascination on the guards and escape. By then, I arrived at the Steppe too late.” His voice cracked, and he paused to take a deep breath. “Eburscon had commanded Lyra to kill the Imperial Dragon. That was to be Eburscon’s last task for her before he’d take her aura for his own and kill her. He knew having Lyra—the Scribe anticipated for two centuries—do the deed would destroy the morale that bound the Alliance. Cold and calculated.” He wiped a hand across his forehead, and his voice shook. “I wish I could have…” He buried his head in his hands.
Lyra exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she’d held and swallowed hard. “I had no idea Eburscon was so cruel.”
“Neither did I. I regret placing any faith in him from the start. The loss of the Imperial Dragon pains me deeply.” Tarom lifted his head but kept his gaze lowered. “I will understand if you find reason to not appoint me as Imperial Alchemist, or not even permit me to remain as a resident here.”
Silence hung in the room while the Guardians exchanged looks, as if in some secret communication.
The Tortoise extended his neck longer. “Tarom, we Guardians agree that the fate of the Imperial Dragon was out of your hands. In the past two days, through no magical means, Yasqu’s scales transformed from his protective bronze to those of the golden heir. Against our protests, the golden leader believed it was a sign of the passage of the guardianship to his son.”
“Tarom, your good deeds were limited by fate,” the Phoenix said.
Wisps of aura spiraled along the Unicorn’s horn as he rose and faced Tarom. “Therefore, it is our sincere intention to offer you the position of Imperial Alchemist at the sunset celebration tomorrow.”
Tarom scanned their faces, his hands flat on the table to slow their visible shaking. The corners of his mouth slowly lifted into a grin. “Thank you, all of you.”
Cullen stepped around the table and pulled his friend into an embrace, clapping each other’s backs.
“If we’ve accomplished the agenda, we all need some sleep,” the Phoenix reminded. “We have a big day tomorrow. In the morning, we’ll honor our fallen. During midday, we’ll take time for personal reflection, then preparation for the evening’s celebrations and appointments.”
“There are a few additional matters,” the Tortoise replied. “Tomorrow, we’ll also offer appointments to Kessa of the position of Imperial Seer, and to Yasqu, the Imperial Dragon and Head Guardian. Lyra, should your cousins and Draora be awarded special powers or privileges?”
“I think they’ll want to be able to come and go from the Alliance upon request to the Guardians. Vickie has a family, and Draora is responsible for the family keep. I’m not sure about Raylene. I know she’ll want to visit Silva Caliga often.”
The Tortoise nodded. “And, there is one small, delicate matter I’ve been considering. What should be done with Eburscon’s illegitimate son who served as a Dark Realm spy?”
“We can’t trust him, but taking his life is wrong,” Lyra replied.
“His mother died in war strikes on the Meadow of Peace,” the Phoenix added.
“Without family, he can be banished to the Qumeli village,” the Unicorn said, tossing his horn into the air. “At times, the boy studied there and should be comfortable.”
“Yes. That seems a compromise of sorts. I agree,” the Tortoise added, and the others responded affirmatively.
Lyra rose and stretched. “I’m so tired and need to clean up. I must look and smell horrible.”
“Time for bed.” The Tortoise yawned. “Goodnight all.”
***
Cullen pulled Lyra’s engagement watch from his pocket and laid it on the nightstand.
Her family’s watch she gave him triggered her memory. “I need to make a trip to Aunt Jean’s cottage right away to get something,” Lyra said and stepped into the adjoining bathroom. She kicked off her boots. While she uncoiled her ratty braid and combed through snarls, the tub behind her filled with steamy water and rose petals. Lyra smiled and rippled the surface with her fingers. The granite basin set into the wall of the lair was large enough for two. She poked her head through the connecting doorway, a smile lifting her cheeks. “Someone just drew a nice, warm bath. Care to join me.”
“Really? Who might have filled the tub for you?” He gave her a sly grin, pulled off his other boot, and joined her. He wound his arm around her waist and bent over the tub. “Hmm. Curious traces of blue aura. It could be dangerous. Let me take a closer look before you get in.” He unfastened her jeans and slid them past her hips to the floor. Toying with the lace edges of her panties, he kissed her stomach.
“I thought you were looking for danger?” she asked with a giggle.
“I’m finding plenty of danger here,” he replied between kisses, while slipping her panties down. “I need to make things safer.”
Lyra shivered at his touch, her fingers winding through strands of his shoulder-length hair.
He trailed his tongue up her skin, lifting her t-shirt as he rose. “I’m afraid there’s some of that shadow of evil still attached to this shirt.” He peeled the shirt over her head and tossed it aside. He licked the tops of her breasts along the edges of her bra and tugged at the elastic back. “This fabric was penetrated with darkness too. It has to go.” The bra joined her shirt on the floor, and he licked her nipples until they stood erect and firm.
Standing naked in front of him, every inch of her skin firing with anticipation, Lyra couldn’t wait any longer. She ran her hands under his tunic, enjoying the firm muscles of his chest for only a moment before she pulled the garment off.
He found her mouth for a deep kiss.
She broke away and yanked his tight trousers, along with his underwear, to the floor.
“I think it’s safe now. I don’t sense any evil.” He led her to the tub.
They slipped into the warm, scented water. Their bodies entwined with caresses and kisses.
“I’m glad we’re together again,” she breathed against his lips.
“My jadestone told me you were alive, but I needed to feel you with me.”
Lyra nipped his ear and slid her hands between his firm thighs. “Mmm. You do feel good.”
Water sloshed over the side of the tub in rising waves as they rolled and twisted closer, bringing release to each other.
Lyra rolled to Cullen’s side and snuggled under his arm. The rippling water stilled around them.
Minutes later, relaxed and soaking, she said, “You know, even when I didn’t recognize you on the battlefield, I thought you were handsome.”
He grinned and slipped an arm around her waist. “And I thought you looked beautiful even after you returned from killing the Black Dragon.”
She laughed. “No. That’s just being blind.”
He pulled her closer. “Blinded by love.” He chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Can your trip to Aunt Jean’s wait until tomorrow?”
“I’ll go after the memorials.”
“What do you need to get? Do you need me to go along?” He massaged her leg using a palm that glowed blue with his magical heat.
She laughed and splashed him with a handful of water. “I think I can protect myself from Sheridan, your locust. Besides, it’s a surprise.”
Chapter Thirty-two: Reflection
A solemn bugle call woke Lyra. Pale dawn light lingered over the patterned rug in her and Cullen’s chamber.
Cullen turned toward her and
curled into the blankets, still asleep. Her eyes followed the contours of his square jaw and angles of his sculpted shoulder. She’d known him most of her life, first as her wizard playmate when she was ten years old. He guided her to step into the enchanted book written by the Scribe before her, a fantastic playground with a talking tree and interactive plants.
Years later, faced with deaths and divorce that left her without family, he found her again. His world inside the book took on new meaning and new responsibilities for her. She shouldered tasks she never thought possible. Physically, he’d barely aged over those years, but he longed for a companion. He gave her his heart and protected her with his life. She fell in love with Cullen all over again, this time as a woman. Through the past year, they fought side by side for the Alliance, and to find a way for an immortal wizard and a mortal woman to find a happy life together. Their futures became entwined with the need to maintain peace in his world. His immortality depended on Alliance magic.
Last Christmas, they’d formed goals for their future. Although dangerous missions threatened their lives, their dedication didn’t waver. Many times, she looked to their goals as a couple with disbelief. So much stood in their path. She made progress in the right direction only by inching through a day at a time. She sighed.
Cullen had kept the bigger picture in sight, always believed they’d reach this moment.
He slept beside her now with a calm, peaceful expression, brow smooth and lips curled. Instead, she felt overcome that they actually reached their goal. Elation welled inside her. She wanted to shout to the world that they made it. Two sides of the same coin—both needed to make a whole.
She gently kissed his ear, and his eyes fluttered open, a smile lighting his face.
***
Lyra inhaled deeply as their procession began its parade. They glided as a unit across the Steppe of Ora nearest the lair to where the wooden funeral pyres held the body of the Imperial Dragon and other fallen Alliance fighters. She and Cullen walked behind the Guardians, followed by Oasth, Mimio, and Gea. Not yet formally appointed, Yasqu, Tarom and Kessa joined the line a few paces behind. Squadron leaders filed in next. The last of the procession consisted of Lyra’s family and leaders of visiting lands, including King Eos and Queen Mysa who had arrived before dawn.
A crowd of thousands gathered, a sea of navy, dotted with gray and black. Lyra and Cullen dressed in formal navy attire, she in a long dress with a fitted bodice and he in an embroidered tunic cinched with a gold cord over fine woolen trousers and polished boots. The Arials stood out in their light colors, but their solemn faces blended with the rest.
Lyra’s mind spun with too many extreme emotions. Grieving the death of a much-loved leader that came at the expense of future peace cast a bittersweet note. She scanned the onlookers and found similar confusion in their expressions. Some cried uncontrollably, or lifted faces splotchy from tears. Others diverted their gazes from the pyres, or held hands to their mouths. Those grieving often stood next to family members whose eyes sparkled with heads held high. Some residents fidgeted as if restless and wanting to embrace a new life.
Lyra turned away and focused on those who’d been lost, valiant dragons and wizards who gave their lives to protect the Alliance. She shut off the excited, eager happiness that welled under her surface. Those who could not be present in the celebrations deserved their own observance of victory, a special time of honor.
Each of the Guardians spoke to the crowd on the accomplishments and fine characters of the deceased. The Phoenix led a song that began with a melancholy, somber tone and progressed to a sweeter, hope-filled melody.
Gea came forward and gave a tearful tribute to her mate, the Imperial Dragon. “I ask that you spend time during this midday, and in days ahead, to reflect upon his life and the lives of others we lost. Their legacies will help us in the days, months, and years to come.” When she stepped away from the speaking area, only the breeze made noise, blowing through new trees that fought during the previous night’s battle.
Oasth stepped forward, stood tall, and saluted the Imperial Dragon, a signal for guards to light fires under the pyres.
Other members of the procession saluted, then bowed. All stood silent, watching ribbons of smoke lift into the air.
Kessa wormed her way through the order to Lyra, her face stained with tears. The girl wrapped her arms tightly around Lyra’s waist.
Lyra bent and held her with one arm. “It hurts. I know.”
The girl’s thin frame shook, and her fingers clutched Lyra’s side.
Lyra didn’t understand. Kessa hadn’t been close to the Imperial Dragon or to the blues or wizards who’d perished. “What is it, Kessa?”
“Before we lined up, the Phoenix told me she’d just learned my father and brothers died in the last wars in the Meadow,” the girl said between sniffles.
Lyra stooped and hugged her.
“Maema was killed by the Qumeli chief. I loved her. Now I have no family.” Kessa buried her face against Lyra’s shoulder.
Cullen squatted behind the girl and rubbed her back.
“Tears of grief are necessary to make room for happy times later,” Lyra whispered in her ear. “It’s okay to cry.”
The procession began to organize, and Cullen helped them rise.
The three walked solemnly, holding hands with Kessa in the middle.
Back outside the lair, Lyra whispered in Cullen’s ear, “I’m going to take Kessa with me to Aunt Jean’s now. We’ll be back soon, in about an hour.”
“Are you stopping to visit Cranewort?”
She nodded.
“Then, I’ll look for you in two hours.”
She shot him a knowing smile and led Kessa to a quiet area of the ledge and wrapped them in a golden-violet transport cloud.
Chapter Thirty-three: The Surprise
Lyra stepped from the bathroom, her pulse racing.
“You look beautiful.” Cullen stood from where he sat in a side chair and took her hands into his.
“You don’t seem surprised.” She pursed her lips.
“Your new quintessence doesn’t seem to block me from reading your emotional thoughts, in case you were counting on that.” His gray-blue eyes twinkled.
“I kind of hoped,” she replied and straightened the jadestone brooch that secured his cloak of midnight velvet.
“Does that mean that you don’t want to marry a wizard anymore?” he teased and held her waist.
“Only the Imperial Wizard.” She laughed and spun around, letting the satin skirt of Scribe Brigid’s wedding gown billow around her. “It fits perfectly.” She gazed in the full length mirror in the corner of their room. The short sleeves puffed from the fitted bodice. While she didn’t much doubt the fit or beauty of an enchanted gown, she did worry about her hair, the crown of braids working loose.
Cullen nuzzled her neck from behind.
Lyra gasped. “The dress seems to know that my aura has changed. The ivory cloth now shimmers with gold, violet, and blue of both of our auras.” Once the surprise wore off, she admired his blue and gold brocade tunic that fit smartly over his broad chest. His earring and pendant with blue topaz sets matched the dragon ring he wore over his bloodswear mark.
“If you’re ready, let’s join the celebrations.” He waved her toward the open window. “What about Kessa?”
“She calmed down after our visit with Cranewort. She agreed to let Vickie, Draora, and Kenzo take her to the Meadow.”
Cullen nodded and offered Lyra his arm. Sparkling vapor that matched her gown surrounded them.
***
Lyra and Cullen stepped out from the transport cloud to a chorus of cheers and whoops.
Vickie and Kessa scurried to join them, dressed in pastel-colored dresses for the occasion.
Most villagers and guests wore their dark funeral attire, which for many was their best. But their faces beamed with broad smiles more than offset their solemn dress.
The Unicorn stood on the r
aised platform before thousands assembled in the Meadow of Peace. Spring wildflowers nodded in his direction. “Welcome, Scribe Lyra and Sire Drake.” Tendrils of his wispy aura danced around his hooves, and he pawed the floor excitedly. “It looks as though we will have much more to celebrate than was originally planned.”
The Tortoise and Mimio whispered where they sat behind the speaker, so loud that the Unicorn turned around.
“Are there some additional changes I need to announce?” He bent and conferred quietly with them, then addressed the crowd again, “It seems I might be one of the few who didn’t foresee today’s events.”
His comment elicited a wave of laughter.
“Sorceress Mimio has informed me that the nuptials will take place at Gatekeeper Cranewort’s Crossroads. But first we have some important appointments to make.” The Unicorn nodded to Lyra. “Let it be known throughout the land, that the astral elements have recognized Scribe Lyra’s recent service to the Alliance and granted her the status of full afflation as a higher magical.” He nodded to Mimio who held up a bookmark of golden metal. “She will be awarded the third and final golden bookmark.”
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