From her shoulder, Cobalt let out a roar that would have been tremendously loud had he not been three feet long. Instead, it sounded more like and angry cat’s meow.
"You-you are strong for such a young one," the Rokkan said, his tone now full of admiration.
"What did you do to Braxt—" Chureal started, but before she could finish her question, the Rokkan disappeared from the chamber.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Even in the moonlight, it was clear the boat was far too small to hold Hunter and Sir Jory, much less Cryelos and Chureal. Hunter was holding a torch high over his head and looking more closely down into the craft. Cryelos still felt strange. The staff seemed like it was trying to tell him something, maybe warn him, but he already knew they had to hurry. Both moons were high in the sky, which was strange enough, but he was still recovering from the sensation of his skin peeling off, and having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea that he was holding the Staff of Aevilin. Trying to grasp what the dire feeling was, for the moment, was beyond him. When Chureal turned Cobalt back to his normal size, it startled them all, and he saw the plainsman shiver.
"He can carry you and me, Cryelos, or me and Hunter," Chureal said. "I think Sir Jory is too big with all that armor on."
"I can carry the knightsss, or I can pullsss two in the boat and carry two." Cobalt sounded confident.
"I think the hull is cracked," said Hunter, who now had one foot in the boat and one out. He looked at the dragon, and then the bottom of the boat as if weighing which was the worst option.
"Can you carry Chureal and Sir Jory across," Hunter asked. "Then return and get Cryelos and I? I don't want to be trolled across the water in this little tub. Whatever is in the lake almost got us once."
"Good idea," Cryelos agreed hesitantly. "I think."
"The thing in the lake is the Rokkan, in its living form," Chureal said, as if she was an expert in Rokkan lore now. "Sort of like Taerak is now a thing in the lake by Braxton's um-um" She started crying. "He is hurt and far away from here, Cryelos." Chureal blurted out the words, and then her face twisted into one of great sadness. She started bawling. Cryelos went to her and hugged her close.
Cobalt's head loomed down to them. The dragon nudged her, letting her know he was there for her, too. His eyes were the size of swollen melons, and Cryelos thought Cobalt was also feeling sadness over Braxton.
Cryelos looked at the wyrm, and then spoke to him in the language of dragons, something he didn't know he could do. "If you can get her and the knight across, then return and get Hunter and I, I think we can make it to Mount Preal before midsummer on horseback. Of course, you and Chureal will need to watch over us from above. Those things that attacked at Grey Rock will no doubt try and stop us."
When Cobalt responded, "I will do thissss," Cryelos was relieved. In the back of his head, the idea of he and Chureal riding Cobalt to the mountain came to him. If time grew too short to get there otherwise, it was a possibility. But he really didn't want to be responsible for putting the young girl in harm's way, and she was nowhere to be seen in the tapestry portent.
Knowing how they were going to get back across the lake, Cryelos explained it to them, He told Sir Jory he had to get out of his armor for the flight. Then he gently asked Chureal what she knew about Braxton and his injuries while trying hard to remember exactly what he'd seen in the depiction. Braxton had told him it was a prediction of the future, not a rendering of the past.
"I don't know what is wrong with him." Chureal sobbed. "I felt him using his medallion, and then he was gone again. I can tell he is hurt, but not how badly."
"But he is alive?"
"Yes." She seemed to brighten a little. "He used more power than he ever has before, too. I hope he finds himself a dragon. He needs one, you know?"
Cryelos didn't know, but he knew they had to hurry and get to Mount Preal. He understood through the knowledge the staff filled him with, that the female Darka was the only one who could facilitate Drar's return. She would need Princess Trava's freshly removed heart, and a powerful orb he was sure they already had possession of, to complete her spell and release the evil god. This Darka would also need a host to receive the coming thing, for it had no worldly form of its own.
Cryelos figured they would have to get to the summit before the darkons and stop the whole ceremony if they were to save the princess. But those red eyes were peeking out of the crypt in the tapestry. So, if that indeed was a display of what was to come, the poor girl had to have been killed before the displayed scene.
He was glad when Sir Jory asked Chureal how he should climb on, and he watched as the unarmored knight shivered like a scared child while mounting Cobalt's back.
"Do we have food?" Cryelos asked Hunter. "They should eat and rest while they ride. We should do the same while we wait."
"We do." Hunter held up one of the satchels of dried meat and hard bread they'd bought in the village.
"Pass some up, then," Sir Jory said from Cobalt's back. "If I die falling from a dragon's back, I'll do it with a full belly."
Hunter hesitantly did as he was asked. His fear of the dragon was obvious, but he eased close and handed the knight up some food.
"Stay away from the town, but not so far away it takes us too long to retrieve the horses and find you."
"We've no fishing boat left to exchange back for the horses," Hunter said.
"Arghhh," Cryelos let out a frustrated growl.
"We've still got gold," Sir Jory said, patting the pouch hanging from the sword belt he'd slung over his shoulder. "Lord Amicus gave us enough that we can pay back the boat man, get our horses, and still have plenty to spare."
"Good." Cryelos gave Chureal a forced smile. "Don't worry about Brax, dear." He comforted. "He can take care of himself."
She wiped a sniffle from under nose and nodded. Sir Jory was clinging to Chureal as if her tiny body might keep him in place. He squealed like a maiden with a snake thrown in her lap when Cobalt took three awkward strides and leapt into flight.
Cryelos leaned on the staff and watched the growing dragon rise over the water on heavy wing beats. He looked at the two moons and guessed that it wasn't long past midnight. He needed to close his eyes and think. The staff still felt as if it was trying to warn him, but he already understood how urgent their need to get to Mount Preal was. He couldn't remember if it was nine or eight days they had left before midsummer.
He turned to ask Hunter how long they had, and then understood what the staff was trying to tell him. The plainsman's skin had gone pale, and he had bared fangs and strange, oval-pupiled eyes. His gaze was full of menace, and the magical bow he'd taken was drawn with a glowing red arrow aimed directly at Cryelos's heart.
All this time, he'd thought Hunter's unease around the dragon was due to fear, but now he knew it was because the boy was afraid Cobalt would detect he was a darkon. Another thought hit him then. It was Hunter who'd told them it was ten days until midsummer a few nights ago, and probably Hunter who'd given away their defensive plans at Grey Rock. It was also Hunter who suggested Chureal and Sir Jory go first. By the mischievous look of triumph on the transformed boy's face, Cryelos was certain that he'd been lied to more than once.
"How many days until midsummer?" he asked, even though he knew he was about to be shafted.
"The sun is about to rise on Midsummer's Day, fool," Hunter gnashed his fanged mouth. "You'll never get there in time to stop my master's coming. In fact, you'll never get there at all. I've been wondering what elf meat tastes like for days and days and days." He snarled and licked his lips. "Now I'm about to find out."
With that, Hunter, or the darkon he'd turned into, let the magical arrow fly, and Cryelos had no doubt it was streaking right at his heart.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was a surprise to both him and Hunter when the crimson arrow stopped cold and fizzled away about a hand’s breadth from Cryelos's chest. The next arrow and the one after that did the same.
Cryelos wasn't sure what to do, so he charged the young man and swung the staff at him as if it were a club. He wasn’t close enough to hit him, but the power of Arbor's gift to Aevilin extended out and still impacted Hunter. The boy went flailing a dozen paces or more through the air. The bow he'd been using fell to the ground where he'd just stood, and when Cryelos looked at it, it flew into his free hand as if it was yanked there on a string. The staff fell from his other hand, and though it swayed a little, it quickly righted itself and stayed standing upright beside him.
Cryelos was smart enough to figure out what to do next. The darkon that had once been his travelling companion was coming back at him on all fours like some skittering roach or a malformed spider. His hair was gone, and three small black spikes were pushing out of his scalp. In the gold tinged red glow of the moons he was terrifying to look upon. Cryelos reached for the string that wasn't there, but felt it between his fingers when he drew. The arrow that formed wasn't red this time, but was made of radiant white light. The second he loosed it, he knew he'd misjudged the darkon's speed. The arrow was high and going to fly right over his target, but to his surprise, its trajectory arced right down into the thing Hunter had become.
Hunter howled out when the arrow struck. The sound was far from a human one, and Cryelos felt a modicum of pity for the young man. Cryelos loosed two more arrows. The thing's momentum slowed, then it collapsed and slid on the ground, but it was still twitching and shuddering. Finally, it stilled and the Staff of Aevilin started to glow. Under this new radiance, Hunter slowly changed back into the young plainsman Cryelos knew, so he grabbed the staff and made his way over to him.
Though it looked like Hunter in the face, its hair was still gone, and its eyes were still filled with hungry looking orbs sporting inhuman pupils.
"The coming night brings Drar and all his power. The Darka will feast on all of you," Hunter whispered to Cryelos. "Then the Drar will pick his teeth with your magic stick. You and the girl, and that fargin' wyrm will—"
His words were cut short when the butt of Aevilin's staff thumped into and through Hunter’s chest.
"You'll not speak of my friends, darkon!" Cryelos said, and then he charged back down into Mardon-Hex's hold to get the sword and helm that he now understood were meant for him to have.
Cryelos was astonished when he took the sword. It had no sheath or belt one moment, the next it was strapped and at his hip, in a scabbard that looked to be made of plain black leather.
When he put on the helmet, a similar thing happened. He felt more than saw his body covered in some sort of armor that was invisible to the naked eye, but there nonetheless. He felt his head and found a hooded cloak he hadn’t been wearing before. Only when he willed himself to, did he feel the helmet there. He drew the sword and used the reflection of its well-polished blade to see that none of the magical protection was visible, he looked like he was wearing the garb of a commoner. The scabbard and staff looked like old, ordinary gear that wouldn't draw the eye of anyone. He also felt the need to be at Mount Preal immediately, but wasn't sure where it was. He started to climb the stairs to get back on the surface, but felt a whoosh, and found himself standing on the lake’s shore by their camp.
He put the sword back in its place, and with the staff in his left hand, he knelt and closed his eyes, trying to get a grasp on everything that was happening to him. He could still picture Braxton's map in his mind, and from that memory, he had a general idea of where the mountain was, but no clue where on the mountain the pillared temple in the tapestry was located. He figured it was at the top, for that is how it looked, but he couldn't just flash himself there could he? No, not without telling Chureal what he was doing. She was worried enough about Braxton, and he'd sworn to keep her safe, so he couldn't just leave her with Sir Jory, yet he had.
What if Sir Jory was a darkon, too? The knight was equally disturbed by Cobalt. The idea assailed Cryelos, and panic took over.
With little more than a thought, he found himself standing in a trampled cattle pasture. When he turned a circle to see where he was, he saw the lake in the distance, and over there were the glowing windows and firelight from the village. In the sky, he saw Cobalt gliding toward him. His vision zoomed in, and he was overcome with relief when he saw Sir Jory still clinging to Chureal like a child on his first ride behind a horseman.
Chureal's look was intense, and he knew she was in the void, either with the warrior Zyken-Whay, or trying to reach out to Braxton.
Cryelos couldn't help but laugh. They were going to be surprised to see him standing there when they landed. Cryelos was beyond shocked over what had just transpired. One moment, Aevilin's Staff was an ancient tale told by his elders, now he was leaning against it. More, he was cover by magical armor and carrying powerful weapons covered in elven runes. The idea that they were Mardon-Hex's creations didn't bother him. He was no evil elf, as Mardon-Hex had been. He would use them to fight evil alongside Braxton and Chureal. Or without them, if need be.
The last thought came when he remembered that in the tapestry depiction he was trying to smite Drar and surrounded by a ring of gothican protectors. Neither Braxton or Chureal were in the scene.
When he looked up, Cobalt was back-flapping his leathery wings and landing not far in front of him. His confidence had faded considerably. Could he face Drar alone? Where was Braxton, and how could he go to Mount Preal and keep his promise to protect Chureal both?
"How did you get here?" Chureal asked excitedly.
"Where is Hunter?" Sir Jory slid off Cobalt's back, took two wobbly steps, and then fell face first into the cattle trampled grass.
"Hunter was a darkon spy," Cryelos said. "The coming day marks Midsummer, and I have no idea where on Mount Preal to go to stop this madness, but I have to try."
I will protectsss Chureal, Cobalt said in a voice that only sounded in Cryelos's mind. I can keep her sssafer than any of you.
"You don't have to try alone, Cryelos," Chureal said. She didn't seem sad anymore, but Cryelos didn't wait around for an explanation. He knew the dragon was right about keeping her safe. None of them could do a better job of protecting her than he could.
"Find Braxton and tell him I've gone to the Summit," Cryelos said, and then squeezed the staff willing himself to where the map showed the foot of the mountain to be.
"Wait Cryelo—" he heard Chureal start, but he was standing in a thicket of dense, neck-high shrubs. A procession of ogres and darkons were easing along an overgrown trail. The first rays of sunlight had just pinkened the sky, and after he quietly pulled himself down so they wouldn’t see his head poking out of the greenery, he watched in amazement as the darkons shifted into humans without missing a step, when the sunlight reached their skin.
He realized something about them, then. They could only be darkons in the dark, which was probably why they were called darkons in the first place. Knowing that they were flesh eaters, evoked a memory of another tale Xuniper used to tell. It was about blood drinking vampires who only came out at night and would burn up if the rays of the sun found their flesh. These were definitely not vampire, for nothing ill happened to them as they trudged along in human form by the light of dawn, no doubt making their way toward the place on the mountain he needed to be.
Then he saw Princess Trava huddled in a wheeled cage with a few other people who may or may not have been darkons. The woman riding a huge black horse behind the wheeled cage was a darkon, or the Darka herself, Cryelos decided. She was still pale, and her eyes were orange and glowing almost the same shade as the brightening sunrise. Apparently, the sunlight didn’t affect her. Around her, at least a dozen other females, all wearing tight fitting studded leather armor, walked in a protective formation. They had on veils and hooded cloaks, and not a bit of their skin was exposed, leaving Cryelos wondering if the sun would harm them and if the vampires from Juniper's stories were only female. The Darka on the horse radiated a dark power he could feel through the staff.
> Cryelos took a long deep breath, trying to figure out what he should do, for he had no idea. Looking up the mountain, he saw a section of the winding road the parade of darkons were ascending. He decided from up there he might be able to find a way slow or stop them. With a thought, he vanished from the shrubbery and appeared on the road at a higher elevation, right between two massive giants who were studying the approaching group so intently they didn't even seem to notice him.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Darka-Xera sensed the presence of the unfamiliar intruder only as it disappeared from the shrubs. She felt it reappear somewhere up the mountain but couldn't pinpoint the exact location. She knew whatever it was might cause them trouble. She cursed her master’s worldly vessel for running off to seek his revenge so close to the coming. It was he who she would have liked to send ahead to deal with whatever it was that dared spy on them, but he wasn't back yet. It was infuriating because it was the day of Drar's coming, and she needed Skallin's body.
"We are not alone," she hissed down to the nearest of her hooded darka guardians. "Darka-Kavmi, take two of my select, and a handful of the stronger men. Go ahead of us and clear our way to the top." She snarled, and then let the evil look turn into one of power. "Something is on the road up there." She pointed. "The one who brings me its heart will have Drar’s favor. The others can have its flesh as reward."
With that, one of the hooded women tapped two others on the shoulders, and they sprinted ahead with unnatural speed, into the ranks of ordinary looking men trudging up the mountain road. The darka were forced to hold their pace so the men they gathered could keep up but, soon, they were all around a bend, and Darka-Xera reached out to her chosen again, hoping Skallin would hear her call. One of the men in the cage with the princess would suffice as Drar's vessel, but she would prefer Skallin, for he had been transformed into something far more powerful than any ordinary man. She knew Drar wanted Skallin's huge powerful body more than any other.
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