Dragons of the Dawn Bringer: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 5

by Araya Evermore

  ‘That is not what I am worried about, Velonorian. I fear that it’s I who will let you down. Many whom I loved have also been taken from me. If you choose to be in my service, you must realise how dangerous that is. Baelthrom hunts me and already so many have died.’

  ‘I know all of this and more, my Queen.’ The devotion in his eyes didn’t lessen with her words, it only seemed to increase.

  ‘Let him,’ Asaph whispered in her ear from behind, making her jump. She hadn’t heard him arrive and Velonorian’s eyes never strayed from her face to hint there was anyone else there.

  She hesitated for a long moment then found herself saying, ‘I would be honoured, Velonorian.’

  The young man’s face split into the broadest of smiles and his eyes sparkled. He held up her hand and kissed it.

  ‘My Queen,’ he said.

  ‘Do you know how to use a sword?’ Issa asked.

  ‘Not yet, my Lady Issa,’ he said.

  ‘Just Issa will do. Well, why don’t you start learning from Orphinius?’ She gestured to the elf who was waiting for a new sparring partner.

  ‘Yes, my Queen Issa. Right away.’ Velonorian nodded vigorously.

  Asaph passed him his wooden sword and the young elf clutched at it. With an exultant laugh, Velonorian whirled away through the crowd towards Orphinius.

  ‘What have I done?’ Issa asked, feeling confounded.

  ‘Made a young man very happy.’ Asaph laughed.

  She turned to look at him as he wiped the sweat from his chest with a towel. The flame marks there were a vivid red and she found herself blushing when she looked at them, remembering when their two marks had touched.

  ‘Aren’t you jealous?’ she said slyly.

  He grinned and pulled her close. ‘He’s too young for you.’

  ‘Oh really?’ She laid a hand on his hot shoulder.

  ‘But I do think you need to be watched day and night,’ he said and bent his head to kiss her lightly on the lips. ‘You should have a whole army protecting you whilst you sleep, like any other queen.’

  ‘I certainly would like a bed to call my own, and a castle. Just my own house would do.’

  ‘Maybe Raven Queens live in trees…’

  She laughed and pushed him away. ‘You’re all sweaty, now go and wash.’

  With a grin, he left her and walked towards one of the water fonts besides the houses on the edge of Oray. Issa took a deep breath and placed her hands on her hips. There were three pairs of young men in the ring now, Velonorian included, all fighting with wooden swords. Orphinius directed them, shouting out what they should be doing and correcting them every moment.

  Issa wished she could wait for them to be fully trained before she left Myrn but she could not. Very soon she would be leaving for Davono to rendezvous with the Karalanths who were amassing on the borders. Scrying for Triest’anth had been easy, formulating their plan had not.

  King Navarr had returned home a day or so ago to organise his army and prepare units to send to Davono. Drumblodd and Luren had also returned to the dwarf king’s home in the central Everridge Mountains between Davono and Lans Himay. The dwarf planned to catch up with his army that was already marching to Davono. Reports had reached them that Lans Himay had managed to organise itself to send its own mercenary factions—for a hefty fee, of course, footed mostly by King Navarr.

  Luren was tasked with organising the affairs of Lans Himay where Averen left off. All of them planned to be in Davono ready for the offensive. There was a lot going on and a lot that could go wrong. The only thing Issa knew they had to do was attack.

  Thinking of all these armies moving at her request made her palms sweaty. She was no war leader. Was she marching them to their deaths? It didn’t bear thinking about. But it had not been her decision alone, everyone had agreed to it.

  Domenon had already sent messages to Queen Thora explaining the situation, preparing her for the thought of foreign armies moving through her lands. The wizard was keen to return to his queen and explain in person, and yet he lingered here, spending every available moment with Orphinius.

  ‘Aren’t you going to fight?’

  Issa jumped and looked up at Domenon, surprised to see him there as if her thoughts had made him appear. He nodded to the elves.

  ‘I’d like to see you fight.’ He grinned down at her. There was nothing but humour in his voice.

  ‘Well, I guess I should practice, but I’ve been too busy helping the wounded and learning what I can from the seers before we leave.’

  ‘Yes, I shall be leaving soon,’ said Domenon. ‘Depending on when the merchant ships from Atalanph arrive. They could be here as early as tomorrow and they next dock at Davono.’

  ‘So soon?’ Issa said, shocked. The wizard had changed his tune. Last time she’d made plans to leave he had procrastinated. She couldn’t turn up in Davono without the Queen’s advisor. What had changed his mind?

  The wizard continued. ‘A lot has happened. Drumblodd’s army has nearly reached Davono’s borders. Baelthrom may strike again at any time hunting for the elven orb he knows has escaped the Land of Mists. If Queen Thora agrees to act on this plan of yours and invade Venosia, we must do it quickly.’

  Issa nodded. ‘That’s what I have been saying. But now the time has come, I don’t feel ready to leave. I don’t want to go to war.’

  ‘It is the way of the Isles of Tirry to make you want to stay,’ Domenon said. ‘But we can do no more here for the elves. They are in the best place possible.’

  Issa glanced at the elves training; fighting, dancing and striking each other, and wondered if they would become the fabled and feared warriors of old. ‘And the orb will remain here in safety.’ Issa nodded, feeling immensely relieved.

  Domenon smiled. ‘We can worry less about it now. Certain security measures have been put in place.’

  ‘How?’ said Issa instantly suspicious.

  ‘Orphinius, in his greater wisdom, has made me Second Keeper,’ Domenon’s eyes sparkled as he whirled away.

  Issa’s heart pounded.

  Issa realised her mouth was open and shut it. By the time she thought to run after the Master Wizard to question him further, the man had disappeared into Oray. She searched the cobbled streets but he was nowhere to found.

  Instead, she decided to find and tell Freydel immediately. He was not going to be pleased. She hurried past a row of round houses all of which had little gardens filled with various herbs and flowers. One garden boasted a fountain with a giant fish that spurted water from its mouth.

  She stopped at the house with a green gate; Freydel’s guest house which he was sharing with Haelgon. She knocked on his door and went inside when no answer came.

  Freydel turned to her, startled. He stood in the centre of the room holding the Orb of Death up to the sunlight that was spilling through the skylight. She noticed the bags under his eyes and his pale demeanour with worry.

  ‘Orphinius named Domenon Second Keeper,’ she blurted, hanging on to the door handle.

  A look of horror spread across his face. ‘How? Why?’

  Issa shrugged. ‘He’s spent a lot of time with him. Maybe Orphinius got scared about its safety. We’d better ask him ourselves.’

  Freydel dropped his arms and slipped the orb inside his robes, looking drained. ‘It cannot be undone.’

  ‘What is it, Freydel? You look exhausted. Is something bothering you?’ She entered the room fully, shutting the door behind her.

  In response, he sunk down into a red fabric chair. Issa knelt on the pile of large cushions that were set beside it. Freydel muttered to himself, cast her a glance, then looked away again.

  ‘I did what I said I would. I shouldn’t really speak about it…’ he waved a hand.

  ‘No, tell me.’ She leant forward. What on earth had happened?

  He took a deep breath. ‘I’ve been visiting Ayeth.’

  Issa inhaled sharply.

  ‘It’s not easy but under his tutelage and the
power of this crystal staff…’

  ‘How can you keep going to him?’ Issa demanded. ‘How can you endanger the orb?’ She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The thought of being able to time-travel was staggering enough. That he was going back and forth to their enemy…

  ‘I go to him to stop him becoming Baelthrom. There is no other option!’ Freydel barked, spots of colour appearing on his cheeks. He turned away and tugged on his beard.

  Issa leant back. She had never seen him so ragged and exhausted. He was always the epitome of calm wisdom—eccentric, yes, but always in control of his emotions.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ His shoulders slumped. ‘I’m deeply tired.’

  If he hadn’t looked so worn, Issa would have hounded him. Instead, she worried. ‘You should rest and not visit him ever again. He is right on one thing: the Orb of Death is doing just as its nature dictates—it is killing you! If we combine the last remaining orbs, it will not be able to drain you like this.’

  ‘No!’ Freydel almost shouted, making her jump.

  ‘No,’ he repeated more softly. ‘Combining the orbs is too dangerous. He has made an oath to me.’

  ‘Pah! Some good that will do,’ Issa laughed.

  ‘No, it’s not like that. When an Aralan pledges themself to another, they cannot harm them. This Ayeth is not a monster. I cannot see how he becomes Baelthrom. Perhaps everything we have done together has already changed the timeline.’

  ‘Then why is that bastard still here?’ Issa asked, her hands balling into fists. ‘There is only one way to make sure, and that is to kill this Ayeth.’ She only half meant it, to see what his reaction might be. To see if she could trust him.

  Freydel looked at her. She held his gaze.

  ‘Ayeth is an amazing, powerful being who does not deserve to be destroyed. The very thought is terrible,’ said Freydel. ‘He has already taught me so much. That knowledge I can pass on to others.’

  The awe and devotion in his eyes shocked Issa. Was he being charmed? No, it was virtually impossible to charm a wizard. What, then, was going on?

  ‘Have you lost your mind? That being becomes a monster who slaughters millions and destroys entire planets,’ her own voice rose to shouting. Freydel flinched, instantly making her feel bad. She backed down.

  ‘He’s not what you think he is. He, like you, was chosen by Zanufey to help,’ said Freydel.

  All the fight drained out of her at his words and she sagged. He was chosen. To even consider that this Ayeth deserved to live was hard to swallow. She needed to hate him to destroy him. But he is not Baelthrom, she reminded herself.

  ‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘But destroying him is the only way to ensure millions live. You have become infatuated with him and the power he has taught you. It has blinded you to your purpose.’

  ‘No, it has made me strong.’ There was a hard determined look in his eyes.

  ‘Then what are we to do?’

  The wizard was nearly three times her age and steeped in learning and experience. It felt wrong to assume she knew more than him, but still, her instincts nagged at her. Him visiting Ayeth, especially with the orb, made her feel sick.

  When he didn’t answer, she said, ‘Let me come with you. I will meet him, if he is so nice.’ She tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  ‘It is too draining. The orb cannot take two. You need your strength to lead the people,’ he said.

  ‘I’ve got enough strength and my own orb. Let me come with you. Teach me how.’

  ‘Out of the question, it’s too dangerous. There is one beside him whom I do not trust—’ he broke off as if he hadn’t meant to speak.

  ‘Who?’ Issa frowned. The bad feeling in her stomach grew.

  ‘No one, it doesn’t matter.’ He waved dismissively.

  ‘Who?’ Issa repeated, her eyes narrowing. She knew who it was, the black-eyed woman she’d seen in the star portal, but wanted Freydel to say it.

  Freydel dropped his shoulders. ‘Her name is Lona. She is of a different race to Ayeth, from a different planet.’

  As Freydel told her his experience with the black-eyed female, a cold creeping sensation spread up Issa’s back.

  ‘But she has never done anything. I just don’t trust her,’ said Freydel. ‘Ayeth is besotted with her though. He is so committed to helping her and her people, I feel he is blinded.’

  ‘Likewise, I can see you have become quite attached to Ayeth,’ Issa said in a tight voice, trying to reason through her emotions. ‘Ending Ayeth is the only way to stop Baelthrom.’

  ‘We cannot kill an innocent being,’ said Freydel.

  ‘He’s not innocent,’ she began, but knew he was right. Remembering Ayeth, his beauty and power and ultimate innocence, could she simply kill him? She would be killing Zanufey’s chosen before he’d even committed a crime. It would make her the sinner and no better than Baelthrom.

  ‘Well, you’re going to have to trust me on this one,’ said Freydel.

  Issa said no more. She didn’t want to get into a long debate and inevitable argument with her friend and teacher so she decided to let him rest.

  Walking alone along the pale cobbled street deep in thought, she took a road that led out of Oray and into the forest. She stopped when she came to a small brook and watched the tinkling water. The sun was dipping into the trees, casting its long rays of light through the falling autumn leaves. With a sigh, she squatted down upon a rock jutting out of the earth and blew into her cold hands.

  No matter how she turned it around in her head, Freydel’s friendship with Ayeth was deeply disturbing. Ayeth could be working powerful magic to twist Freydel’s mind, or he was as the wizard described him; honourable and kind. If he were killed, all their problems would disappear and millions of lives would be saved. But was it right to kill an innocent being? Of course not, but what choice did they have when not killing him would destroy them all.

  Issa did not like these thoughts at all. She knew she couldn’t kill Ayeth. The very thought was despicable. She slipped out the Orb of Water from her pocket. It sparkled turquoise and aqua as the sun hit it. The brook tinkled with music and shimmered more brightly. She smiled; the orb was talking to the water.

  Could she use her orb to travel across time too? The thought made her stop. It was an uncomfortable question. She’d assumed that peculiar ability was specific to the Orb of Undoing, but now she wondered.

  Freydel had just looked so exhausted. Maybe, when he’d rested, he would think more clearly and she’d be able to talk to him then. If the orb was draining him, was the Orb of Water draining her too? She couldn’t feel anything but then neither could Freydel. The orbs held magic in an unnatural state. Even now she could feel the pull of it in her hand, like a gentle tug towards something. Towards being combined with the other elements. Things in an unnatural state always sought to rebalance themselves.

  There was a lot she had to do. Soon she would be travelling to Davono and she needed to prepare herself for meeting the queen and organising the first offensive committed on enemy lands for a very long time. She didn’t have the luxury of worrying about what Freydel, Domenon and the others were up to. She needed a single point of focus and the support of all those around her.

  Slipping the orb back in her pocket, she pushed herself to her feet. She would have to trust Freydel knew what he was doing, for now.

  16

  The Calling

  ASAPH took the long road home, winding between the edge of Oray and the trees as the setting sun turned the sky golden.

  The rich smell of the forest filled his nostrils and he felt good after his sword training. Orphinius’ skill with the sword had come back to the elf fast and Asaph really had to put the effort in towards the end. The elves, what remained of them, would soon be a powerful band of warriors.

  The elf had invited him to practice archery tomorrow but no matter how he looked at it, the thought of attacking the enemy from afar with projectiles rather than getting up close and
whacking them with his sword felt somewhat cowardly and un-Draxian. So he’d politely declined.

  It would be good for Issa to hone her skills with the bow though, he thought. Rhul’ynth said she had a natural talent with it, and it would help to keep her further away from the edge of a Maphraxie’s blade.

  The sudden darkening of the sky made by a passing cloud brought him out of his thoughts and he looked around, wondering where he was. Ahead was Feygriene’s waterfall, the golden rocks gleaming, behind him, down the hill and just visible through the trees, were patches of white houses. He’d been so wrapped in his own thoughts he’d missed the path leading to his house.

  He turned back the way he had come when a flash of something caught his eye making him pause. For a heart-stopping moment, he thought about Cirosa and his hand dropped to his sword. He scanned the trees but there was only a red squirrel jumping amongst the fallen leaves, an acorn lodged firmly in its mouth. It stopped and stared back at him. He relaxed his hand. Cirosa couldn’t reach him here through Myrn’s protective shield. Besides, after Faelsun had removed her chains, he was free of her grasp.

  He glanced back at the waterfall and did a double take. There, suspended above the water’s surface, surrounded by a halo of yellow light, hung the Sword of Binding. He inhaled sharply and walked towards it. The blood red pommel gleamed and the grey-blue blade looked as if it had been freshly sharpened. He glanced around but there was no one here; no seer or wizard to create this magic. Slowly he reached out a hand and touched it, stunned to find his finger slide across cold steel.

  The Recollection snapped open.

  Roaring fire blinded him and filled his ears so fully he thought they would burst from the noise. There was no heat—just light and sound. The raging flames calmed and he saw the sword suspended in its dark chamber somewhere beneath Castle Draxa, just as he had always seen it in the shared memory. The pages of the Recollection flipped fast in his mind but this time felt different to every time before. These memories were emotionless and absolute. He had a shocking realisation: this wasn’t the memory of a being or dragon; it was the memory of the sword. Was it even possible for a sword to have memory?