More of Gremly popped up along the horizon, the lanky, crooked trees becoming visible as Aranath began his gradual descent to the ground. Unlike the previous days, the plan was for the dragon to land a couple of miles from a town so that we humans could buy food and beds before heading into the unknown.
Unfortunately, given its infamous history, asking the natives whether Gremly behaved abnormally would not give us any clues regarding possible nismerdon activity. Conversations at the inn we entered revolved around the war, though nothing about a dragon knight. I suppose a few more days were needed before word spread beyond areas without magical means of communication. Since we did not look like the typical sandy brown Oclorans, the old innkeeper behind the counter asked where we came from.
I answered “Etoc” and Ghevont said, “This is my homeland, good madam.”
“Really? Don’t breed many redheads down here.”
“Ah, but heads can travel. My mother, the redhead, came here from another land. As did my father, in fact.”
“You here to visit them?” she asked, still interrogative.
“No, they’re both dead.”
Softening a mite, she said, “Ah, sorry to hear that.”
“Yes, tragic. For me and my sister, that is. To you it would have come as a relief.”
“Huh? Why is that?”
I placed a hand on the scholar’s shoulder and gave it a hard squeeze. “Forgive him, madam. My friend here sometimes forgets that the past of his parents should remain there.”
“Why should it? What are you hiding, eh?”
“Nothing more than anyone else.”
“I doubt that. What are you two supposed to be?”
“A question for the philosophers.”
“You tryin’ to be funny?”
“A little, but it seems Oclorans don’t have much of a sense of humor.”
“Not when it comes to armed outsiders shirking basic questions during times of war.”
“I see. You have family in the battlefield, I take it?”
“Aye, two of my children.”
“If I was a drinker, then I’d buy two cups of your finest ale and drink to their safe return. As it is, all I can do is give you news that Alslana’s new advantage should end any notion of major battles.”
“Advantage? What advantage is that?”
“Haven’t you heard? Well, I suppose we’ve been traveling faster than the news. Alslana has declared that a dragon knight aids their cause.”
“A dragon knight! Impossible!” Her half-laughing exclamation attracted the attention of a few nearby heads holding on to their gray hairs.
“Well, unless four fleets of sailors are lying, it’s said they saw the dragon fly over their ships in the Lucent Sea. Alslana declared the dragon and his rider their ally a few days later.”
“Madness! Why would a dragon knight appear after all this time? And why support that snobbish little kingdom?”
“You’d need to ask him, but word is Alslana’s former king aided the knight on his hunt for Advent cultists. He aided his kingdom in return. Point is, unless Oclor wishes to underestimate a dragon, they’d be wise to let their soldiers return to their families. That should at least make a mother content.”
“Hmph, I don’t like the idea of a stronger Alslana, but if it gets my children home quicker, I’ll take it. What do you wish to order?”
After we ate our hot soups and climbed up to our room, Ghevont asked, “Why did you talk about yourself without telling her who you are?”
“When have you known me to want to attract attention?”
“But I thought we had a fabrication prepared for that.”
“Yes, I’m glad you remembered it, but I realized I should begin spreading the word of why a dragon knight supports Alslana. People should get it in their heads that the Advent attract my attention, not fighting nations who’ve done me no wrong.”
“Ah, you planted a seed of influence. It seems you do care what people think of you.”
“I don’t want to care, I have to care. Now, hurry up and take a bed. Tomorrow we’ll find out how much Gremly cares about a dragon knight over its skies.”
Chapter Eight
Aranath flew two thousand feet over Gremly’s outermost environs. Neither Aranath nor Ghevont sensed much magic at this height, but that soon started to change. Residual magic rose and collected in the sky. The dragon thus had to ascend hundreds of feet for every few miles we crossed to elude the sensation of disorientation Ghevont and I were far too acquainted with. Regrettably, there wasn’t enough sky to not eventually use our prana to counter the stronger and stronger effects.
The density of trees coincided with the strengthening spell. Clearings existed, but they remained few and far between. Near my limit, I signaled Aranath to the only clearing in our limited sight. Even Aranath’s eyes were having trouble piercing the persistent fog.
When the judder going up our bodies signaled the dragon’s landing, Ghevont said, “Aranath, do you mind burning the ground with your flame? I’d like to determine if your fire has any impact on Gremly’s magic.”
“As would I,” said the dragon.
So as I and the scholar worked on getting ourselves to the ground, the dragon’s breath seared the soil in front of him. It sounded like a large, swift waterfall crashing on to a collection of boulders. The light was as sharp as the sound, and provided a warmth and luminance this part of Gremly had not experienced in eons. Though the nigh liquid stream of fire only lasted less than four seconds, it would have been enough to cook a mammoth.
While his flame came from his own prana reserve, I still felt the power within the crystals dwindle away. Proof that not only did we share our prana reserves during the summon, but that even with the crystals a prolonged battle wasn’t going to be possible yet. Countering Gremly at the same time did not help any.
“Did you sense that?” asked Ghevont, now on the ground with me. “I believe a trace of magic dissolved in the flame.”
“I do not sense a change,” said the dragon. “Then again, you’re more familiar with this place than I, scholar.”
“Indeed, for I have no doubt your fire had an effect… Ah, but even now the spell is recovering.”
“Then experiment over,” I said. I patted Aranath’s wings and sent him to a less confusing environment. As we walked to the charred, smoking dirt, I asked Ghevont, “How close do we have to get to Gremly’s center to eliminate it as a nismerdon hideout?”
“Well, the fact the spell at ground level is not making the staff’s crystal react suggests we are not dealing with nismerdon spells.”
“That already satisfies me.”
“Yes, but they might be using it to mask their activity.”
“Or you just want to see how far we can get to Gremly’s mysterious center.”
“Well, how many chances will I get to tackle Gremly on top of a dragon?”
“If we can get about five more years of experience, then right about then.”
“Yes, but any number of disasters can befall us by month’s end, much less anything further than that.”
I sighed. “I suppose that’s a good, if defeatist, point. Fine, all I can say is that we turn back as soon as it gets dicey.”
“What do dice have to do with it?”
“As in risky.”
“Oh, then yes, that can be agreed to. I realize we shouldn’t add any more danger when already seeking a specific kind.”
“As long as you realize it.”
“Incidentally, if we can’t reach its center in this trip, may we return in five years?”
“Assuming we’re both alive, sure.”
“Really? You’re willing to plan such an undertaking that far ahead?”
“Why are you confused by the idea?”
“Because I’ve yet to hear you plan for anything other than an immediate concern. It’s a little surprising knowing you’d make an exemption.”
I shook my head. “I’ll never understa
nd how your mind works. Listen, since we’re literally hundreds of miles from any human ears, I’ll tell you this out loud just once. I owe you for aiding me with the Advent and saving Clarissa’s life in Dulcet. In our own weird way, I consider us friends. As far as I understand the concept, friends do favors for one another, either in the present or five years later.”
“Ah, I believe I’m better fathoming our connection.”
“Don’t talk like that. I’m going to sleep first. Stay on guard and wake me as soon as your blinks last longer. We can’t risk both of us falling asleep in the middle of this place.”
The dream world did not become a problem for me this time. Staying asleep proved the bigger frustration. Gremly was too damn quiet. No wind rustled the canopy and no animals scampered or proclaimed its territory to others. That restive state carried over to the dream world, where no sound pervaded the empty blackness. I think I favored the inverted eyes to a mute oblivion.
On awaking into a night without stars or moonlight reaching the treetops, Ghevont excitedly declared that the twisting tree trunks here averaged an inch thicker in diameter than those found around his home.
“And what does that mean?” My addled condition knew that my fully aware one would not expect a meaningful revelation to come from the scholar’s mouth.
“It means more information, Mercer!”
“Uh-huh. Go ahead and dream about the possibilities. I’ll wake you up if I ever notice the sky getting brighter. Or the sky in general.”
Hours later and we found the sky again, though its hue was much closer to gray than blue. An hour afterward and Ghevont leaned forward to tell me we had just crossed the farthest point he had ever gone into the enchanted forest, meaning few others in known history had gone farther. I learned how he identified this milestone seconds afterward. Despite being above the most concentrated portion of the spell, a nigh solid wall of depth hit my face. It was as though we had fallen into a deep sinkhole hidden under a once knee-high segment of coastline.
Breathing the spell-drenched air needed some getting used to, not to mention the extra prana Aranath expended to oppose delusion in me and himself. Based on how fast our prana was being drained, I knew we had to turn around after a couple more hours. We simply did not have the reserve to tackle something even the notorious Riskel Rathmore never accomplished.
Squandering yet more energy was when Aranath needed to rise three miles to escape the heavier mist now massing over the forest. Going below it had us experiencing magic too powerful to resist for long. While Aranath said he could fly in thinner air with only a little more effort, that’s when he wasn’t busy battling a disorientation spell. Minutes away from beckoning Aranath to turn around, Ghevont tapped my shoulder. The target of his pointing finger forced me to forget about forming plans for the near future.
I thought a mountain entirely overlaid with snow had sprung out of nowhere, but what kissed the sky instead was a huge plume of mist several miles to the west. This hardier vapor appeared a shade darker than the haze around it and us. I didn’t like the look of it, but I knew I’d be disappointing Ghevont if I did not at least try getting Aranath closer to the aberration. I’m not certain what Aranath’s disposition was, but he did not hesitate to turn once he saw where I wanted him to go.
The dragon tried going higher. However, once we realized no amount of height was going to lessen the effects, Aranath chose to get the observation done as quickly as possible by focusing on straightforward speed. Puffs of dragon flame left his mouth every ten to thirty seconds. I assumed the recurrent act did something to ease the burden of the foreign magic entering his head.
The sky condensed from all directions. I nodded off not from fatigue, but due to the increasing weight in my skull. My tongue alone weighed as heavy as a live trout. It sort of tasted like one as well. Human and beast motivated by logic would have turned around right then. Fuck it. We weren’t beings of pure logic. I had come this far and I did not want to leave without getting something out of it. Maybe it was the enchantment leading us into a trap? Eh, too late now.
A last-ditch attempt to get sight of anything to scrutinize occurred when Aranath began an arched dive. Longer, bigger puffs of dragon breath passed me on the way down. Between those bright flashes, Ghevont and I stared hard into the mist-mountain’s base. When he couldn’t juggle flying, keeping sane, and fire breathing, Aranath angled his wings to bank away from what must have been at least one major source for the mist or hex.
We craned our heads like a Gremly tree branch during the prolonged turn to keep our eyes on the towering brume. Halfway through the turn, a band of mist lighter than the regular kind lifted from the base, giving shape to something tangible below. It started off as more forest, but that soon changed. Beyond the trees grew a tangled mess of ivory colored roots, many looking as thick as Aranath’s body. They slunk toward a sharply sloped drop-off. Hundreds of feet below that laid more oversized roots.
Ghevont’s outstretched finger led my sight to another less opaque band farther away. It was tougher to get a good look, but I still made out the hundreds of feet of curving cliff wall. If the shape stayed consistent with the first visible slope, then it meant I was seeing the brim of a massive crater. I left the exact calculations of such a depression to the scholar, since judging vast sizes from this relatively small sample lied outside my purview, stupefaction spell or not.
Getting any more information became impossible when Aranath finished his turn. He stopped diving and worked to gain a little more elevation. I sometimes felt the dragon assemble swirling pockets of air to power his spurts of speed. Every prana-aided flap brought less of Gremly’s power to bear, but too much energy had been wasted already. It seemed we weren’t going to reach the forest’s less inebriating region. The best I could do was focus on the summoning link, though I did not have the mental range to ponder much else.
A well-timed rain helped to spur me from my stultified conscious an hour or three after seeing the crater. I wanted a heavier, longer shower, but the drizzle lasted less than ten minutes, at least if minutes still represented what they once did. The rain ended, but the clouds endured. Without even the cluttered impression of sunlight to aid us, the sky and mist blended into an everlasting gray blob. No one blamed Aranath for diving for the first clearing he spotted.
The ground provided little support for either my legs or head. Trying to get sleep this far in Gremly’s hinterlands offered a different kind of quiet than before. Rather than the hollowness of air, this quiet resembled dunking my head into a bucket of blood hot water. Closing my eyes felt like a bad idea as soon as I experienced the darkness behind my… eyelids… and something… something…
I opened my eyes to a rolling fog scattering the full moon’s bluish light. Unlike the contorting woods, my head seemed clearer. A wariness controlled my movements as I sat up. Something felt missing from… something. I couldn’t quite place how I knew it, but I also couldn’t deny that it encompassed my thoughts. Ghevont sat against a tree, his head slumped in sleep. I didn’t like that he failed to wake me up before surrendering to the realm in our heads, but I let it go. I just wanted to get out of here.
Stretching my legs, I asked, “You awake Aranath?”
No response.
Aranath had stated that he wouldn’t take naps while we stayed in Gremly, but after pushing ourselves toward the mist-mountain, I didn’t blame him if he wanted to sleep off the lassitude. If he wanted to. A half dormant unease told me that might not be the case. Still, if he was merely snoozing for a couple of hours, I didn’t want to interrupt him, not when we were a few hours away from restarting the journey. For now, I decided to wait a-
Gurgle, said my stomach.
I obliged my gut’s pleading with strips of dried venison. I stopped pacing when swallowing the chewed food did nothing to quiet my stomach’s begging. The nibbles of rations that plummeted into my acidic hollow also didn’t feel right. My stomach was as parched as the salted meat. Drinking from
my waterskin did not make it any wetter.
I unsheathed my blade and thumped it on a tree trunk while yelling out, “Aranath! You there!?” The same nothingness as before. “Well, shit.”
“Cyrus?” said an awaking Ghevont. “What’s wrong?”
“Uh, well, for one, you never call me ‘Cyrus.’ I won’t even bother telling you the other strange shit, since I’m pretty sure you’re part of the strange shit.”
“What do you-”
“Shut up. Real or not, I’d prefer you to shut up right now.”
Getting an idea, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a dragon stone. I studied the rune key design, finding the overlapping triangles, circles, and squiggles didn’t match the ones from experience and memory. The details weren’t too far off, but the smaller circles and squiggles inside the triangles definitely stood out as being in the wrong positions. My world this was not. I hadn’t really woken up. Now what to do about it?
Ghevont disappeared. He had been within view, but I suppose no sight, sound, smell, or touch could be trusted here. Why even trap me in a forged world? Wouldn’t it have been easier to let me sleep in ignorance? To let me starve to death? Or was that it? My hunger was real, right? Why allow my hunger to penetrate this world? Were Aranath or the real Ghevont trying to awaken me? Was Gremly countering by trying to dupe me?
That’s all well and good if my theory was even partway true, but what to do about it? How much time did I have? Did Gremly still have tricks at the ready? Were Ghevont and Aranath experiencing the same unreality? Would I ever stop asking myself questions? Fuck.
I first had to try manipulating my prana… Ah, so that’s what had been missing. Well, “missing” was the wrong word. “Out-of-reach” fit what I sensed better. My soul’s ears heard the rushing river of prana still in my real body, but my dream self could not fathom how to reunite with that part of me. There had to be a way. I sat against a small, three branch tree, telling myself to keep trying to somehow “feel” my way out.
The Dragon Knight's Soul Page 8