by Lakshman, V.
“What about getting them out?” asked a woman holding a light crossbow.
“Your entats will record the location from where you phase out. Your job is to find and report back to our Dawnlight with your marker intact. Our people will then be able to outfit an appropriate rescue team to send back. Remember you’re wagering more than your own life, so no heroics.”
The group looked at one another, some murmurs could be heard as each considered whether to go on the mission or return to their own Dawnlight. After some discussion Dazra called for a vote. In the end a third decided to go back, disappearing in a flash of white. Because Dragor was standing next to Jesyn, he could see them greet loved ones and move off like phantasms through invisible tunnels. No one who stayed seemed angered, and Dragor caught in bits of conversations that some of those who had chosen to leave had been here for a very long time.
Of the twenty who stayed, all elected to integrate the marker, despite Gedeon and Dazra’s worries. It would let them phase through rock, making their search of the mountain go much more quickly. Seeing the unanimous decision, both the dwarven leader and his second nodded to Tarin to proceed, pulling their sleeves up as well. It was then that a voice rang out in the clearing, simple yet direct: “Not all shall accompany us.”
The air shimmered and from that wavering stepped forth a girl dressed in black armor. What looked to be a black cape fell across her back, but when she stepped further into their light, that cape revealed itself to be two black wings folded neatly in place on her back.
The girl looked at the group and continued, “I choose who goes and who shalt remain. In return, I shall aid thee in thy quest.”
A collective gasp ran through the assembled dwarves, who quickly went to their knees in front of the girl, their heads bowed in reverence. Finally it was Dazra, arms outstretched to either side, who looked up from under his brows and said, “Your name, goddess Sai, so that we may address you properly?”
The girl smiled, revealing fanged teeth. She seemed quite pleased at Dazra’s politeness., “Thou may call me, Sai’ken. Builders, I welcome thee, and call upon thy fealty to the First Laws since Sovereign’s Fall.”
Dazra bowed his head again. “Of course, we still faithfully serve.” He looked up carefully and added, “Is it service you now call us to again?”
Sai’ken’s gold-flecked eyes ran across the kneeling forms, finally coming to rest upon Dragor and Jesyn, who had remained standing. One eyebrow arched delicately, then she said, “I hath searched for thee for some time. Thy lore father bade me assist thee in recovering Armun Dreys.”
“Then why did you search? He knows where we are,” demanded Dragor, remembering now the lost missive with the lore father. He’d been trying to tell him about a dragon, no doubt this one. But what had Giridian been trying to tell him? He reached out, trying to establish a link, only to find himself unable to pierce the area surrounding them, as if they were wrapped in a fog that blocked his ability to communicate using the Way.
The dragon girl tilted her head and a sudden wash of fear threatened to overwhelm him. He gasped, falling to his knees with one arm raised. Sai’ken moved forward and said, “Had I appeared to thee with august splendor, haply thou wouldst be more humble, more contrite. Mine father says I am too caring and shouldst kill one forthwith so mine word carries more weight.”
She knelt carefully and said to the almost prostrate Dragor, “I prefer a gentler way, and it seems penitence is not beneath thee yet, O great adept, and master of the Way.” She raised her eyes to Jesyn’s but Dragor’s voice came from below.
“Great,” he gasped, “you can win with dragonfear… why can’t I speak with our lore father?”
Sai’ken smiled and said, “And what dost thou think Sovereign harks for, or how I found thee? Thy mental call is a child crying in the dark, a caterwauling thou cannot disguise. I judge thither be only a short time ’ere this area is overrun.”
At that the dwarves grabbed their weapons, alert to their immediate surroundings. Nothing stirred the night and Sai’ken seemed to enjoy the effect she had on the assembled group. As their nerves settled, she said, “If thou hearest mine voice, thou will leave for thy home.” It was not a request.
Dragor slowly stood and said, “What makes you think you can just tell us who to take or not?”
If murder could be delivered by eyesight, Dragor would have been struck dead by the looks he got from Dazra, Gedeon, and a host of other dwarves who were silent only because they still paid Sai’ken obeisance. His willingness to antagonize the dragon clearly did not still well with them, but Dragor didn’t care. He knew the lore father had tried to warn him and needed to understand this dragon’s purpose.
If the dragon was in any way upset it did not show. Sai’ken looked completely unperturbed. She looked around and then pointed to one dwarf and said, “He wonders if thine quest will end in his death.” She looked at another and said, “She worries for her husband back home.” Sai’ken identified yet another and said, “She hath decided to take as many lives as she can ’ere taking her own.”
The dragon looked back at the adept and said, “Shall I go on, haply read thine own brave heart, Adept?”
“Leave him alone,” Jesyn said, stepping forward.
Sai’ken looked at Jesyn, then back down at the adept. Dragor had managed to recover almost fully as the dragonfear ebbed. Sai’ken blinked once, a clear lens nictating over her eyes. “I do not judge thee, sister. Be at peace with thyself,” she said.
The dragon then addressed Dragor, saying, “If we infiltrate Sovereign’s demesne with twenty or more builders, chance at discreet surveillance will be lost. Dost I need to lecture thee on strategy, most glorious adept?”
There was silence, and then just as quickly flashes from the clearing as almost the entire group of dwarves disappeared. The dragon looked around and smiled. “Rise and join me, brothers and sisters. We will achieve great things hither today.”
When everyone had assembled, the group had been whittled down to eight: Dazra, Gedeon, and Tarin were joined by the two adepts and Sai’ken. Finally Halp and the giant axer Naph, rounded out their small party.
Jesyn stepped forward and said, “You show up now and offer your assistance. That takes the form of five dwarves, down from thirty. It seems imbecilic to whittle us down to this as our ‘force’ into Dawnlight. How do we know you’re not in league with Sovereign?”
Sai’ken’s face became very serious and she put her hands on Jesyn’s shoulders, looking up at her. Her visage belied the fact that she was a dragon, probably much older than anyone here, despite having a young girl’s face. “I cry you mercy because of thy ignorance, but doth not tempt me further. We Sais art the true guardians of Edyn, and wouldst stand against any who threaten it, yea if such a stand meant our own lives.”
Dazra moved forward carefully and said, “No offense was meant, goddess. Please, let us prepare as you wish. We gladly follow, just as we have whenever we are called.”
The dragon looked at him, then nodded and said, “Five will be hard to track within the mountain, even with the fire of the adepts showing. The healer will proceed with the marking. It will hide thou for a time.”
“What about you?” Dragor asked.
“Mine strength comes from the Way for I am one with it. I can hide myself from even Sovereign’s eyes for a time. Worry not,” replied the dragon.
Tarin made her way around the assembled, touching each with the tip of her finger. As she did so, that person’s entats reconfigured themselves, taking on a more angular look made up of lines and edges rather than whorls.
“Don’t forget me,” Jesyn said to Dragor’s surprise. When he looked at her she shrugged and said, “I’ll take any advantage I can. You should do the same.”
It had never occurred to Dragor that he could be given the marker, and he looked at Tarin, the question plain on his face.
She shrugged. “No idea what it will do since you don’t have the basic entat c
onfigured within your body yet.” She looked at him and smiled. “At worst it kills you.”
He pulled back his sleeve but Sai’ken said, “Do not confer the marker upon him.”
When that order was met with surprised stares from more than one of the assembled, Sai’ken continued, “Adept, thou will journey deep into the mountain with Dazra, Gedeon, and Naph. Let havoc ride with thee like a summer storm, termagant and sudden.” She looked at Jesyn and said, “The rest will come with me.”
“Bait.” Dragor looked at the dragon, daring her to refute it, but she did not.
Instead, she turned to Dazra and said, “I need thy team to stay alive as long as possible. The adept will draw Sovereign’s forces like moths to a flame. Thou must keep him alive and lead our enemies away. I will take the healer and her companions.”
“I will help thee find Armun, whom I met many years ago with mine father,” she said to Jesyn. “He was a noble man.”
Dragor’s eyes widened and he said, “You’re Rai’stahn’s daughter!” The memory of the vision Giridian had shared of a young Themun now became clear, and he couldn’t believe he missed the obvious connection.
The dragon girl gave a small curtsy, an action that seemed entirely too innocent and girlish given this creature’s age and power. It was as if Sai’ken liked the discomfort she created when she played the part. “Armun journeyed into the mountain and returned that day without harm,” she said. “As the years moved on, his time within the mountain grew longer and longer. One day, he did not return. Mine father tried to find him, to nay avail.”
“What, then, is your mission? What has the Conclave asked you to do?” asked Dragor.
“Sovereign cannot be stopped without understanding thy lore father’s staff and the Phoenix Stone,” Sai’ken said. “The man who knew this lore best was Armun.”
She waited, and when Dragor said nothing she looked at Dazra and said, “Prepare your men as I asked.”
Dazra bowed once. “Of course, goddess.”
A slow smile drew Sai’ken’s lips back from her fanged teeth, her gold-flecked eyes finally coming to rest on Dragor’s own. “How long can thou stay alive, Adept?”
Dragor kept his mouth shut. He didn’t buy her simple explanation so long as confirming it with the lore father was off the table. Dragons did not consort with people unless the need was dire. Whatever was afoot, it likely would not end well for them, and he hoped Jesyn could see the danger they were all in.
Then he turned to Sai’ken and said, “Hopefully long enough to make a difference.”
Decisions
Sometimes luck is the thin wire
between survival and ruin,
And every effort made should be to keep your balance.
- Galadine House of Arms, Battle’s Focus
Insanity!” cursed Kisan. “The boy will be the death of us all.”
Silbane looked at the younger master, his mind working furiously on everything he’d learned. First, though Sonya had said much the same thing, but the man most able to comment on Lilyth’s claims had remained strangely silent. Thoth stood to one side, his expression guarded, holding himself apart from the group. He turned to the enigmatic Keeper and asked, “Giridian vouched for your support. You’ve opposed Lilyth for centuries. Why this sudden change?”
Thoth looked at the two masters and asked, “Do you know the story of the siege of Tarsus?”
Silbane nodded. “The great bull statue hid soldiers within. While the city slept, they emerged from the bull’s belly and opened the gates. Slaughter befell Tarsus that night.”
Thoth replied, “Then you see Arek as the Bull of Tarsus.”
“They why in all the gods did Lilyth bring him here?” asked Silbane. “It seems foolhardy.”
“I will concede one thing,” Kisan said darkly, “foolish or not, we have been cleverly maneuvered. Of our own free will we choose not to leave Arcadia, and Arek has been enticed to rescue a father he doesn’t know, a man who doesn’t deserve it.” She was quiet, then said, “Even I’ve been given good reason to follow, a chance to serve vengeance upon those who caused my family’s slaughter.” She moved away, and to Silbane the white-knuckled grip of her hands was a clear indication of the conflict that waged within.
“What do we do?” Silbane asked, looking at Thoth.
The Keeper blew out a breath and said, “It is Arek’s choice.”
“We could grab him and Yetteje and go through the portal,” Kisan answered matter-of-factly, pointedly ignoring what Thoth had just said.
Thoth shook his head and addressed Silbane. “He’s more powerful than you can imagine. It is doubtful even you could touch him given his dark gift. As soon as he realizes this, the corruption will begin. Power will give his voice strength and you will not be able to control him. It is a wonder he listens to anyone at all.”
“If I may offer something?” Brianna had moved up and now inquired in a soft voice, “As I said, much of what you say makes little sense to me, but there’s something I do understand.”
At Silbane’s encouragement she continued, “Arek is dangerous, but I do not sense he means ill. He could have killed me, but did not, even though it seems he faced others like me in less than favorable terms.”
“If you consider trying to kill you as, ‘less than favorable,’ ” replied Silbane.
Brianna tugged on her collar, adjusting it, and said, “I may be able to help him. I’m a dokter.”
Kisan moved forward at the sound of the dwarven word, one she evidently recognized from her assimilation of the assassin’s memories. At Silbane’s look she offered, “A kind of dwarven healer, highly skilled.”
Brianna nodded. “And within the object in which I slumbered are tools that might help.”
“Help?” asked Silbane, “How?”
Brianna shook her head. “Much of my memory is gone, which means I have been asleep a long time. I can’t be sure yet, but these tools will help me see if there’s something within Arek that can be healed. Perhaps his use of this ‘Way,’ as you call it, stems from something within him that’s an illness.”
“It’s not his use of the Way, but his absorption of it that causes worry,” replied Silbane.
“As you say,” replied Brianna, “but I might be able to change that if I had access to my instruments.”
“Do you know where that thing you were found in is?” asked Kisan.
Brianna shook her head but pointed to a tattoo on her forearm. “My entat use is limited by this collar, but with it removed I can locate the capsule within which I slept. My entats will also begin healing my memories, helping me understand more of this place, perhaps making me more useful.” This last part was delivered with a note of embarrassment, as if the woman felt herself a burden.
Kisan looked at Silbane, then said, “We know we can’t take it off.” She looked at Thoth, who shook his head also. Clearly no Aeris could remove it, which meant the Watchers were also not in consideration.
Then Ash stepped forward and said, “Perhaps I can try.”
Brianna looked down at the firstmark, and to Silbane she now seemed to hesitate. Her fear was plain in her voice when she said, “You did not see what Arek did to those who had captured me.”
“And yet you just vouched for him,” Kisan said acidly.
Orion intervened and said, “Arek told us he worried you would leave, phasing through stone and rock as your kin, abandoning him.”
Brianna took a breath and seemed to come to a decision. “I don’t know where I am, nor even how long I’ve been asleep. My best chance of surviving is staying near you. I won’t leave, you have my word. But perhaps we should wait until Arek agrees.” Her eyes flicked back and forth between Silbane and Kisan, looking for reassurance.
Silbane smiled and said, “I think I can speak for him on this. Will you let Ash try?”
Hesitantly, Brianna nodded, bending so that the firstmark could reach her neck. He looked at her, smiled, and touched the collar. “Now this
won’t hurt a bit.”
Nothing happened.
Ash looked at the collar quizzically, then tried again. The collar did not budge. He asked Silbane, “What’s going on?”
“Rillaran,” Kisan breathed, remembering her introduction to him in Bara’cor. She looked at Silbane and gave a soft laugh. “His surname is Rillaran.”
Silbane’s eyes widened and he turned back to Ash. “Do you know who you descend from, Firstmark?”
Ash shrugged. “Of course, nothing to note. My father said he took the last name to honor a distant uncle, who some said was a minor noble, others a crazy hermit. My father always said my uncle was better off living by himself.”
Kisan stepped forward and said, “I’d put good money down that he was Argus Rillaran, the Sunlord, the same that held the great dragon Rai’kesh at bay during the Rending of Shornhelm.” She looked at him with a mixture of awe and amusement, then at Brianna. “Relax, he’ll never get that torc off. The Way flows within him, the same as us.”
Brianna looked relieved, perhaps the thought of the torc coming off without Arek’s permission was too much to bear. She sat down heavily, breathing as if she were trying to avoid passing out.
“It seems our luck has remained consistently bad,” Kisan asked Silbane.
“We’re still alive,” Silbane responded dryly.
She heaved an exasperated sigh at Silbane’s positivity, then asked Ash, “How do you not know your own family’s lineage?” Somehow she managed to ask it in a way that implied the firstmark was an idiot.
Ash, for his part, looked equally confounded and spread his arms in exasperation. “How would I? The magehunters eradicated family records. Those who survived certainly didn’t bring attention to themselves. My father and I lived far from any city until I was accepted into War College. Never had a lick of anything strange happen.”
“Not even your blade?” Kisan inquired, one eyebrow arched. “An ancient, sentient sword picks you as its wielder. Does that sound normal?”