“Rub the rough bark away from the thick end of the piece about a hand grip in width. Keep doing this until the area is smooth.” He made a fist to show her how far,
They worked together in silence. When there were four wands with smooth grips he looked up. Her wide staring eyes made him wonder if she spoke to Dragon. Arton leaned forward and touched her hand. “What does he want?”
“A large feeding.”
Arton reached for the wand with the white stone. Without speaking he went outside and called an animal. The stone lit. He felt Lorana’s presence at his side. A huge buck roe deer left the forest.
Lorana flung a stone with her sling and followed at once with a second. The animal collapsed. Arton withdrew the power from the wand. He smiled. The new one worked smoother and faster than his old one. He slit the deer’s throat. He and Lorana completed the butchering. Using the skin they carried the meat to the pool.
While Dragon ate, Arton returned to the outer cave to experiment with the other stones. Rather than test them inside, he stood on the snow covered ground. He triggered the yellow. Light glowed bright and steady until he withdrew the power. A single burst from the orange set a piece of ironwood ablaze. The results pleased him. Would the red act as he expected?
He returned to the cave and crouched beside Lorana. “I’m ready to test the red. Will you help me?”
She put aside the deerskin she scraped. “What do you want me to do?”
“Will you cut your arm so I can heal the wound with the red?”
“Will this work?”
“I’m not sure but I have hope. Will you?”
For an instant fear flashed in her blue eyes. She released a held breath. “Yes.”
“Not too deep.”
Lorana held the knife against her skin. With a quick movement she pulled the blade. Blood dripped on the snow.
For a moment Arton couldn’t move. Her blood flowed faster than he had expected. Drawing a deep breath he powered the red. Lorana’s face grew ashen. She slid to the ground.
At first the red ray was wide. He narrowed it to a thin line and played the scarlet beam along Lorana’s arm. The bleeding ceased. The skin healed, leaving a thin white line.
He went to her and lifted her into his arms. “Why did you cut so deep?”
“I forgot. I used a knife from the treasure cave, one of the silver-not-silver. Was sharper than I thought.” She rose. “We must go to Dragon.”
He clasped her hand. “You’ll have to help me.”
“What can I do”?”
“When I use the ray, talk to Dragon. The healing may hurt. You’ll need to coax him to come as close to the edge as possible. I don’t think I should be in the water.”
She nodded. “Follow your instincts.” Once they reached the bathing cavern her eyes took on the faraway look. Dragon moved toward the edge.
Arton waited until Dragon stopped as close to the edge as he could and still support his injured wing on the water. Arton drew the red-tipped wand from his belt sheath. He sent power into the stone and directed the wide band toward Dragon’s wing.
He roared. Arton stepped back. The wand wavered.
“Don’t stop,” Lorana cried. “The bones are knitting.”
Arton drew a deep breath. The wand steadied. Red light rolled over the wing.
“You can stop,” Lorana yelled. “The bones are healed.”
Elation filled Arton. He now knew what all the fyrestones did. How much could he heal with one red? The stone didn’t seem to have lost any luster.
* * *
Cregan sat in the dining hall and shoveled porridge into his mouth. He and Mecador were scheduled for a training session in the workroom. Learning new ways to use the wand would be of value when they found Arton once the snow melted.
He knew the impossibility of that. He had seen the avalanche, and when the rock fall had ended he hadn’t seen Arton. The certainty of his rival’s death had kept him from performing a wand search.
“Come,” Mecador commanded. He gasped and pressed his hands against the table. His pale coloring turned a ruddy red. Cregan feared his father would break a blood vessel. “What’s wrong?”
The chief wizard shook his head. “I felt a burst of energy from a fyrestone as strong a usage as any I’ve ever sensed.”
“From where?” Excitement bubbled in Cregan’s thoughts. Did this mean his rival lived?
“Must be Arton, and he has learned a way to increase his power,” Mecador said.
“How do you know?”
“One of the skills I planned to teach you is how to know when a wand is being used. Since he is the only living wizard who isn’t in the citadel, he has to be the wielder.”
Cregan nodded. “Knowing when wands are used must be a useful skill.”
The chief wizard nodded. “We must strengthen all your abilities so you can defeat him.”
Cregan stared at the floor. Not just Arton. He would defeat his father and rule the council. He looked up and smiled. “I’m ready to learn all you can teach me.”
Chapter Eight
Lorana laughed with joy. She sat at the edge of the pool and opened her mind to Dragon. His babbling words told her how much better he felt. His hide appeared darker amber than the pale yellow she remembered. The gray cast had vanished. She closed the connection before her head burst from sharing his elation.
A short time later he called her name.
‘Yes.’
‘The broken bones in my wings are mended.’
‘I’m happy for you.’
‘I am stronger than when I first woke from the deep sleep. Almost as strong as the days when I was young and green. How is my color?’
She told him about the change. She rose. ‘We must decide what we’ll do when winter ends. I doubt the wizards will remain in their citadel.’ The scrape of boots on the stone caused her to turn.
Lorana frowned. How long had she and Dragon been sharing joyful thoughts? Where had Arton gone?
“How is Dragon?”
Lorana smiled. “You’ve restored him. Can’t you see how wonderful he looks?”
Arton clasped her hand. “I’ve never seen a dragon before I entered his cave. His hide is different from the yellow of my cloak.” He drew her from the poolside. “What will you do when winter ends?” He touched Dragon’s hide with his other hand.
‘Protect Lorana and myself. Even though you are a wizard, I will spread my wings over you. I owe you that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘When winter ends Lorana and I will leave these caverns. We are not sure where we will go.’
‘When will you leave?’ Arton asked.
‘Winter has just arrived. We will wait until the first day of spring. We have time to consider where.’ Lorana eased her hand from Arton’s to speak to Dragon alone. ‘We must speak later.’ She turned to Arton. “What will you do come spring?”
He sank onto one of the stone ledges. “What will I do? If Cregan lives I must return to the citadel and defeat him. I must prove I’m fit to sit on the council.”
“What’s so important about being on the council?”
Arton looked away. “I’m not of the blood. Every day Cregan and Mecador reminded me of how lacking I am. I must show my control of the wands is as good as or better than theirs.”
Lorana left the pool cave and walked to the outer one to tend the fire. She could understand Arton’s need to prove himself to the men who had raised him. She stirred the coals and added wood.
A short time later Arton joined her at the fire. Lorana had brought a haunch of meat from the cold room to thaw. She looked up and saw his unbraided hair and knew he had plunged into the pool.
He moved to her side. “You will return to the citadel with me.”
She edged toward Dragon. “There is no way I will go there. I would rather climb the mountains the way Dragon’s people did and die in the attempt.”
Arton crouched in front of her. “Why are you afraid of the cit
adel? I can protect and keep you safe.”
Lorana shuddered. Neither he nor any man could protect her from the chief wizard. Why had she and Dragon helped him after he’d stumbled into their hiding place? She drew away. “I won’t be your slave or one to any man and be forced to do what my master or the chief wizard decrees.”
“Slave? How can you believe having all your needs provided is slavery?”
“There is no freedom.” His expression showed he had no idea of life in the hareem. She jumped to her feet. “Hag Mother controls the women’s lives with the rules the chief wizard proclaims. He tells her what each of us must to do to earn porridge and thin soup and stew. If a woman doesn’t obey she is flogged. Only women of the lineage have any degree of freedom.”
His forehead wrinkled. “But you will be mine. No man can touch you without my permission.”
His comment triggered a moment of hysterical laughter. She sucked in air. “How do you know you’ll win? Mecador told me Cregan would be my owner.”
Arton grasped her shoulders. “He is wrong. My wands have more power now. Cregan doesn’t stand a chance.”
She jerked free. “Don’t you know the chief wizard can order all the slave women to his rooms? Only women of the kin can’t be touched without agreeing. He said no matter who wins the duel he will school me and the winner will watch.”
Arton wheeled and strode into the inner tunnels. “I don’t understand how he can do what you say. You will be mine.”
Lorana watched him retreat. Why couldn’t he see what the wizards did to those under their control? He wasn’t of the kin though he’d lived and trained with them since he had been a young child. She leaned against Dragon. ‘We must make our own plan for winter’s end. We can’t depend on him.’
‘We will plan, and we will give him time to change his mind.’
Though a strong bond had formed when she’d tended Arton after the fyrethorn poisoning, she had to remember he belonged to the enemy. Could he change?
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘Give him time to consider what you told him. Perhaps tonight you can give him some of the cordial and I can walk through his memories.’
She wasn’t sure that was a good idea, but Dragon needed to know if there was a chance for Arton to change. The young wizard needed to learn what the ones from years past had done. ‘I’ll try.’
‘He needs to know all.’
Lorana had to agree, but would knowing bring a change in his desire to prove himself to the wizards? She cut meat from the haunch for the evening meal and gave the rest to Dragon.
‘Where should we go come spring?’ she asked.
‘To the clans.’
‘Why?’
‘Since they are kin to the riders of old, I can read some of the clansmen and women’s thoughts. There are many who want the wizards gone.’
Lorana closed her eyes. How could she and Dragon accomplish this? In the hareem she’d heard stories of the clans and their way of life before the wizards had arrived. Could she and Dragon use this to gain allies? She knew many of the guards and the hareem women belonged to the clans and had been captured by the wizards.
She wasn’t sure she and Dragon could win. The wizards had their wands and were capable of killing those who opposed them. She had seen what Arton could do with the wands with colored stones. If he joined the wizards, there was no chance for a rebellion to succeed. If he was more powerful than those evil men, she wanted him to be on her side.
* * *
When Arton fled from Lorana and Dragon, he hid in the dark tunnel beyond the pool cavern. He had to think. How could she refuse to return to the safety of the citadel? What were she and Dragon planning? He could see no way they could remain in this cavern system. He couldn’t see a way to help her. He was a wizard by talent, not birth. He settled against the wall and let his thoughts wander.
He thought of the stones. The other wizards discounted the power of any but the white. His foreign birth could be the reason he sensed power in all the colors of the stones. He also considered the use of ironwood for the wands and how this had extended the longevity of the whites.
Fear for Lorana and Dragon rose. Remaining here would bring the wizards and their wands. They would win.
You can help.
For a moment he thought Dragon spoke in his head. Was that possible? Not unless Lorana formed a bridge. The idea was his. He considered what he wanted. His first desire was to protect Lorana. Even proving himself to the other wizards was of less value. He cared for her. He wanted to be with her again, exploring her body and joining with her.
Options presented themselves. He had to make a decision. Lorana, Dragon and rebellion against seeking safety in the citadel.
He leaned toward safety. Could they find that here? Mecador would kill Dragon for his pelt. Arton thought of never seeing the dragon in flight again. Sadness brought a rush of regret.
What about Lorana? Had she been right when she spoke about Mecador? He thought of the many times other women had exited the chief wizard’s suite. Sometimes more than one had returned looking as though they’d been savaged during their visit.
He closed his eyes. Making a decision was difficult. He wondered if his help would aid in defeating the number of wizards the citadel could send into a fight. He drifted to sleep filled with dreams. Some of victory and others of defeat.
Arton stretched. His stomach growled. He staggered down the tunnel until he reached the other cave. Dragon filled the opening. Lorana stood at the fire flipping cakes made from ground okala nuts.
She looked up. “Come eat. There’s plenty.”
“Thanks.” He felt guilty. Today had been his time for preparing the meal. He filled a gold plate and dripped honey on the cakes. “Clean up is mine.”
Lorana filled her own plate. She sat across from him. “Where were you?”
“In the tunnel where I found the fyrestones.” He took a bite, chewed and swallowed. “I want to speak to Dragon. You could be right about the wizards, but I need to be sure. Dragon was here when they arrived. He can tell me what happened.”
Lorana stared at Dragon. Her eyes took on the blank look, convincing Arton the pair spoke. The animal left the opening and sat behind them. After they finished eating she leaned against her friend and clasped Arton’s hand.
‘What do you want to know?’
‘About wizards and dragons.’
Pictures flowed into Arton’s head. Dragons, green, yellow red and blue, soared above the citadel forming colorful and fascinating patterns. The scene changed until he saw dragons flying over the desert and above the hills leading to the mountains. He saw laughing men, women, and children. He watched clansmen and their riding beasts.
Abruptly the scene changed and he saw a flotilla of trader ships. Small boats were lowered from the anchored ships and landed on the shore. Men wearing black robes over trousers with straight legs strode along the beach. The wands in their hands showed white light streaming from the tips.
One of the wizards stepped to the fore of the group. “We claim this land and now become the Wizards of Fyre.”
Dragons flew overhead and attacked. Their riders shot arrows. Men on riding beasts raced toward the wizards. They hurled spears into the black mass. White flames shot from the wands and struck the dragons’ eyes, blinding them. One after another the massive creatures fell. Some fled the scene, heading toward the desert or the hills.
The cries and screams of the dying beasts filled Arton’s head. He clasped Lorana’s hands tighter as more scenes unfolded.
He watched the flight of Dragon’s kin racing for the hills. He saw the caves and heard people talk. Then he was with Dragon alone and afraid, listening as one by one the voices of his kin died. Then came a time of darkness.
“Arton, Arton, wake,” Lorana called.
Tears he didn’t realize he’d shed covered his cheeks. He dropped Lorana’s hands and wiped a tear from her face with a finger. He grieved for the deaths he’d
witnessed and the beauty of a mass of dragons in flight. When he finally rose, he walked to the cavern entrance. Snow fell but not as heavy as the blizzard when he and Lorana had set out to find Dragon.
* * *
Cregan paused in front of the door to the council room where he was to meet his father. Through the closed okala door he heard men’s voices. Several were raised in anger. He stepped closer and pressed his ear against the wood.
“By spring the council will be full. I want you to vote now.”
“Your plan is flawed,” one man shouted.
His father’s voice matched the other. “We will conscript the clansmen and use the traders’ ships to carry us to the other parts of the isle. We will rule all three sections. No one can stand against us.”
Cregan heard chairs move across the stone floor. He walked away from the door, hurried down the hall and around a corner. He liked his father’s idea, but he would be the one to lead the council. Before then he needed to learn more about his father’s plans.
He peered around the corner. Eleven council members left the room. Once the hall cleared he left his hiding place and walked to the council room. He stopped in the doorway.
“Come in. Close the door. No one will enter.” Mecador rose from his seat at the table. “This is the best place to continue your studies. I will show you things the others don’t know.”
Cregan did as ordered. How much would Mecador teach him that the other wizards didn’t know? “What’s today’s lesson?” he asked.
“Joining power.” Mecador laughed. “You’ll learn how to take over one person’s wand. I can handle five and direct them where I want.”
“Why not all eleven?”
“Six members oppose my ideas. When you take your seat on the council I will have six plus myself to rule and control.”
Cregan’s hands clenched. There was no way he would be ruled. He would be the one in control. “So that’s why Arton and I are competing. I’m ready to learn.”
“Seek Arton. I will add my power to yours and then take over from you. Pay close attention to what I do.”
Wizards of Fyre (Island of Fyre Book 3) Page 10