by C. K. Rieke
“Listen, we can talk about it later,” Burr said, not meeting Roren’s stare. “I have much to think about. Let’s just continue on a bit. I’ll tell you about what that was all about once we reach the mountain. Is that agreeable to you?”
“Let’s just move on,” Lilaci said, taking long strides forward.
The Dune of the Last Dragon had grown to a massive height in the sky as close as they were then. The three of them walked next to each other on the long plains of yellowish, red rocks littered with sparse, dying grass and sweeping sands that blew from side to side. Lilaci walked in the middle, her black hair neatly pulled back with the wooden pick holding it up in a bun, with the rest falling down the length of her back. Her tan tunic’s hood framed her pale face and covered her widow’s peak just slightly. Her sword hung at her hip in its dark leather scabbard with crimson inlay, and she felt the Reevin’s black dagger at her back.
Roren walked to her left. His dark skin was laced with a layer of thin sand and dirt. He’d freshly shaved his head and face the day before, and a shadow of a beard and hair were already beginning to form once again. His tan tunic and hood matched almost perfectly Lilaci’s, and almost every other sole’s out on the sands. His eyes stared heavily at the mountain before them, they glimmered a brilliant blue hue. The bone necklace of tooth and claw hung around his neck, clacking together as he walked. Lilaci had noticed over the previous weeks a tattoo on the inside of his forearm. It was a tattoo of the mountain itself, yet it was not an exact drawing, as it shown the Dune of the Last Dragon with Kôrran on it yes, but Kôrran wasn’t headless, he was full, and brimming with fire.
Demetrius Burr, one of the last of his kin, seemed curious to Lilaci. She couldn’t help but wonder what the life had been like for a Knight of the Whiteblade over the long centuries. Hiding in the shadows, cultivating, or rather struggling to maintain a culture to a losing side of the most deadly and impacting war, possibly ever in the Arr. A war that spawned the Sisen Era. He seemed to be a man fraught with sorrow, yet a hardened determination. She was eager to learn more from the old man with the light-tan eye-patch and the gnarled scar crossing this forehead, but she assumed it would take time for him to open up about his ancient knowledge— and past.
I’ve come far to reach you Kera. And now, here I am, but hours away from the Dune. I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t find you there— I assume we’ll come up with another plan. But time is running out. We are all refugees hunted out here now, and there’s no going back. I’m lost in life now, except for all we have planned together. We were to be a family, that’s all I want. To hell with the gods, and the dragons, to these prophecies older than us, to Fewn, to everything except us. I just want to hold you in my arms once again and tell you that everything is going to be okay. I want us to find a place to finally call home— as unlikely as that is. Please be there, please . . . Just as Lilaci was thinking that and walking towards the dune, she stopped in her tracks and looked around at the sky, and then at her hands, and then she smiled widely. That’s it! I can feel the spell being lifted from me. We’re getting closer. I can feel her.
“What is it?” Roren asked. “What’s wrong?”
“My head,” Lilaci said. “The fog is clearing.”
Burr gave her a confused stare, and then looked over to Roren. “What’s she stammering on about?”
“Kera,” Lilaci said. “I can feel Kera lifting away the webs in my mind. She’s close.”
Roren’s gaze shot once again to the great mountain before them. “We going the right way. Kera is there. Kera is there! Hurry, come on!” Without looking back, Roren set off at a brisk sprint, his pack and sword bustling as he did so.
“After you,” Burr said to Lilaci with a grin. “I’ve someone to meet ahead, but it looks like you have a long-awaited reunion.”
“Yes,” Lilaci said. “And I’m dying to be reunited with Fewn again.”
“She’ll probably be expecting you,” Burr said. “You expect she’ll be ready for a fight. After all, she’s a Scaether, but so are you.”
“Just leave her to me,” she said. “You two stay out of it. Fewn is mine.”
Lilaci was quickly off after Roren, and as the cobwebs from the mages’ spell slowly faded in her mind, she caught brief glimpses of her family from when she was young; a loving father and mother, and a brother and sister, whose innocence brought a warmth to her heart. I’m coming, Kera. I’m coming.
Light salty winds swept under the ominous peaks of the mountain. A crisp chill crept through her freshly dried hair, slightly stiff from the seawater. Kera sunk her teeth eagerly into another bite of the flaky, salty, white flesh of the fish hot off the fire. She chewed hastily and licked her fingers clean one by one.
“I didn’t believe it could be this good,” Kera said with her cheeks still bulging from a mouth full of fresh fish. “This may be the best thing I’ve had in ages.”
Fewn, having eaten a couple bites from one of the four fish she’d caught in the salty sea before, went to inspecting the mountain cliff. She inspected the rock for holds big enough to support her weight and tried to find if there were enough holds for Kera’s smaller body.
“How are we going to do this?” she asked herself. “This is far too dangerous for a little girl. But we can’t just stay here, and I can’t leave her here by herself . . .”
“Seriously, Fewn, this is unbelievable. Far better than grubs and cactus.
Fewn looked back at her and smiled. “Good, keep eating then. Gather your strength.” Then she looked back up to the seemingly endless sheer cliff above. “How in the name of Kôrran am I going to get a child up this?”
Then, a frightful sensation came to Fewn. Her muscles tensed, and a shiver shot down her back. She turned to look at Fewn, chomping her way into another of the cooked fish. Kera then looked up and saw the panic in Fewn’s eyes.
“Fewn . . .?” Kera said through a mouth full of fish.
“Kera, hide!” Fewn said, as she began to draw her sword, but stopped from pulling it fully from its sheath once she heard the bowstrings run taught and looked up to see the sharp tips of arrowheads pointing directly at Kera.
“Put the sword down,” a strong man’s voice called from the brush. “If you want the girl to live, drop the sword.”
Fewn undid her sheath from her hip and dropped it to her side. “Kera, it’s going to be alright. Just come over to me, slowly.”
“No,” the voice said. “You both stay right where you are. We’ve come a long way to meet you, and now that you’re here, I’d hate to have to kill the infamous Dragon’s Breath without proper introductions.”
“Don’t touch her,” Fewn said. “Don’t even think about harming her.”
The burly man walked out from the bush, his pale skin and widow’s peak showed Kera instantly who they were. “Scaethers . . .” she whispered. “Lilaci, help us.”
“Lilaci,” the man said. “That’s a name I know all too well. You wish for her to come to your aid? That’s something I want too. I want her to come. She’s taken so much from me. I want to watch the misery and pain in her eyes, when I take what she cares for most from her.”
Chapter Twenty
She should be right up there, I can feel the mage’s spell completely gone from my mind. “Kera! Kera!” She’s got to be around here somewhere. “Kera! Where are you? Kera!” She must be on the other side of the mountain. Come on, come on, here my voice. Where are you?
Lilaci had been running at full sprint since hitting the last stretch before the mountain, and Roren and Burr lagged far behind as they couldn’t match her speed. She panted heavily with deep breaths as she called out for Kera. Her fingers clasped onto the side of the mountain as she wound around its massive base.
“Kera! I’m here. Where are you? It’s Lilaci, call back to me!” Then she stopped running and at a stretch of grass at the mountain’s base and looked up slowly to the high rising peaks above. She couldn’t have . . . I don’t know if I could ea
sily do it, mind that she’s a child still. No . . . Keep looking, she’s around here somewhere. “Kera! Kera?”
Her heart beat like a drum, it thumped swiftly in her chest. Thud-dump, thud-dump, thud-dump. “Kera! Kera!” Her voice strained as she called out into the sea winds, blowing into her face as she walked. “Kera! Call back! It’s me! I’m here!” Her feet and legs, fatigued, fumbled over the loose rocks scattered around, and as her boot stepped onto a round rock, Lilaci stumbled to her side. Quickly, she was back on her feet, her hands scratched from her tumble, and her hands stung as small droplets of blood gathered on her weathered skin.
“Kera! Kera, where are you? Kera!” Her voice cracked from screaming. She once again looked up the rock-face. “Could you have?” she asked herself. “I’d be damned if she could climb that.” Her head lowered back to the rocky ground, slightly hidden by the tall grass swaying in the wind. She looked down to the sea, past the mountain and beach. “Kera,” she yelled down.
Lilaci put both hands up over her eyes and onto her brow to survey the beach just before the blinding sea waves. Where the hell is she? I know she’s here. I know it. She stopped and looked once more up at the mountain, and the massive detailed carving of the headless Kôrran on its face, as it wrapped all the way around from its front to back. I know you’re here. Just keep going around, maybe she’s on the other side and can’t hear you. Maybe she’s . . .”
Then the answer to Lilaci’s question came to her like a strong fist square in the nose. Lilaci’s world just shifted in that instant. Her hopes and dreams were all about to come true, until she finally saw her. “Kera . . .” Lilaci whispered.
“Lilaci!” Kera screamed out in a voice full of fear.
“Kera, are you all right?” Lilaci said, her voice slightly quivering even as she tried to keep a strong tone. “It’s going to be all right, I’m here. I’m here baby.”
“Yes, you are here,” a man’s voice said. “But . . . A little late.”
“Garenond,” Lilaci stammered. “Let her go. This is between you and me.”
Lilaci was standing on a bed of loose rock looking up at Kera with a curved dagger at her throat— Garenond’s dagger. His face was cold, frightening even behind his beard. Lilaci saw his eyes were different. They weren’t the same eyes she saw days before. No, these were a hard-worn man’s eyes full of rage and grief.
“Throw down your blade, the dagger too,” he said. “Now!” His eyes burning red. She could see the veins in his arms and hands thick and twisting as he gripped Kera tightly by her arm.
Lilaci unbuckled the leather scabbard at her side without hesitation and threw it and her sword to the rocks. It landed with a clang from the hilt of her sword. She pulled the black dagger from the scabbard at the small of her back and let it fall next. “There,” she said with her pale palms held out together. “I’m unarmed, let her go Garenond. She’s just a girl.”
“Don’t try anything,” he said, his lips twisted, and his yellow teeth showing. The two Scaethers came out from the back side of the mountain, one with an arrow pulled tightly into his bow, the other . . . holding Fewn tightly to him, her hands tied at her back, and his dagger at her throat. There you are, Fewn. I’d love nothing more than to send an arrow through your chest into the man behind you, but for Kera. I’ve got to save her first.
The Scaether’s sharp arrowhead was fixed squarely on her, pulled taught. The tip looked like a diamond. “I know what you’re thinking,” Garenond said, “but don’t . . . It won’t take me but a split second to cut her in two.”
“No kids,” Lilaci said. “You know that.”
“She’s not a kid,” he said back, “she’s the enemy. The gods made the rules, and the gods made her the target. She’s not coming back to Voru to be one of us, she’s going back so that her evil tongue will be cut from her lying mouth. What she is, is no girl. She’s the biggest threat in the lands. She’s even poisoned you against us.”
“Garenond, I’m sorry for what happened back there . . . With Dellanor. This has all gone too far. We were once comrades, just let her go.”
Tears welled up in Garenond’s bloodshot eyes, making them glossy, and he lifted the dagger from Kera’s throat to wipe away the tears with the back of his hand. Lilaci then saw the thin pink line forming on her throat from the blade’s mark. The worry flowing throughout Lilaci was quickly turning to rage as she clenched her teeth.
“It’s too late, Lilaci. I’m not going back to Voru empty-handed, and we’re definitely not joining you on your suicide mission,” Garenond said. The Scaether with the sword scowled and twisted his blade at Fewn’s throat.”, the other spit in Lilaci’s direction.
“I’m sorry,” Fewn said, her eyes streaming with tears.
“Don’t,” Lilaci said through her teeth. “I’ll deal with you later . . .”
“We’re taking her back to Queen Lezeral Serinaas,” Garenond said.
“The Queen?” Lilaci asked, she felt surprised he named her in particular. “Why the queen, and not the king?”
“Our king is dead.”
“Dead? How? When?” she asked. I must admit, I’m a little curious as to how that bastard died, but maybe I can get Garenond to calm down. Even just enough that he can lower his dagger, so I can use the Sanzoral and send a storm of sand onto the bastard. Maybe Roren is close. “Tell me, what of the king?”
“The Witch Queen,” he said. “She came and . . . took him.”
“Gorlen eh? Because of me?” Lilaci saw the look of confusion in Kera’s eyes as they talked about the king, but she didn’t yell out, so Lilaci assumed she thought Lilaci had a plan. “Why’d she go and kill the king because of me?”
“She’s one of the Six, you think she needs a reason?” he yelled at her. “Same’s gonna happen to you.”
“What do you mean?”
“She stayed, while the others left. Gorlen stayed,” he said. “She’s coming after the girl herself.”
Lilaci nearly gasped at the idea of The Witch Queen roaming Voru. “What’s she want? Why leave the isle? Why leave their fortress?”
“Don’t be so daft,” he scoffed. “She’s after this. What I have in my hand here. You think I’m gonna be lead in front of her, failed in my mission? No, Dellanor may have paid the ultimate price, but I won’t. Only thing is— Can’t take you back . . . And can’t leave you here. Too much trouble . . . Can’t take the chance . . .”
Lilaci watched as he looked over at the Scaether with the arrow pulled back, and the Scaether said, “Good riddance, bitch.”
Lilaci’s boots shifted quickly on the rocks, as she began to kneel to reach out for her sword. Yet, the arrow was in already in the air. The world seemed to slow to a crawl as Lilaci watched helplessly as the arrow flew towards her, there was no escaping its flight. No escaping—
Just then, as if from the heaven’s themselves, a shadow blocked out the sun and came falling down towards the ground, and as it landed in front of Lilaci with a thud, the sound of clanging metal hit metal, and the arrow went flying behind them, tumbling wildly in the air with a whooshing sound as it flew end over end.
Lilaci quickly reached down and grabbed the hilt of her sword.
“Let her go,” Roren said as he rose back to his feet, after his leap down from the cliffs above.
“You again,” Garenond said, gripping Kera in close.
“I said, let her go,” Roren said.
“Kill them both,” Garenond yelled to the Scaethers. “Kill the traitors!”
An arrow loosed, but Lilaci did not bring up her sword. Instead, her eyes were alight with burning purple haze of her Sanzoral, and the tip of the arrow glowed in a soft violet glow. The arrow swayed and tumbled end over end as it flew off far over her head. The Scaether seemed to understand what had happened, and slung his bow across his back, grabbing his sword from his hilt with the all-too-familiar ring of thin metal. Fewn was thrown to the ground, her arms and legs still tied.
Lilaci and Roren ran at the two
Scaethers. The gap between the fighters was quickly diminished, and metal hit metal as their swords clashed swiftly. The Scaethers laid heavy blows on them, with Lilaci and Roren defending quickly. All the while, Lilaci held Garenond and Kera in her eyesight. Garenond began to take slow steps back and away from the fight. After all, she thought, he must know there was a chance she’d beat the two Scaethers and be soon after him. He’s not desperate enough to go through with it. Is he? That look in his eyes may be the only answer I need. He may be in a mind-frame to do it. That can’t happen. I’ll rip him apart before I let him harm her.
As she fought, keeping Kera in the corner of her eyesight, she watched as Kera sent her heel squarely down onto Garenond’s boot. She squirmed and yelled, but she was no match for him, he only held her in tighter, holding the dagger up and in closer to her throat, angling her head up. That sent Lilaci into a fervor of anger. This has gone on long enough. I haven’t come this far— and gotten this close— to watch her helpless and scared. How dare he. Doesn’t he know how much she means to me? Doesn’t he understand? I told him, I gave him a chance to walk away. I gave Foro a chance to stop back in that tent. I gave Dellanor a chance to stop. I gave Fewn a second chance and look what happened. I’m sick of giving people chances. Every time it’s come back to haunt me. And now this? Now the only one I love in this world has a dagger to her throat because I didn’t kill him back on the sands when I had the chance? I’m tired of giving those I cared for in the past second chances. I’m sick of falling victim again, and again, and again. No, this time, there are no more chances to be given. This time, I’m done. This time— Fire will cleanse my past.
While the sword fight wove back and forth between them, the Scaethers seemed to be enjoying the fight, and as they were all caught up in the chaos, a brilliant light caught their eye and the fighting slowed. The sky darkened, and thick clouds blocked out the sun. All around them at that moment was the bright color of lilacs. A heavy, crackling flame gathered at Lilaci’s hands as she walked easily away from the battle and walked towards Kera. The Scaethers tried to go after her, but they hadn’t noticed that sand had engulfed their legs, and they wouldn’t budge.