She tried to back away. They weren’t Aralans or Yurgharon or even demons, so what were they? Gathering all her strength, she called the sluggish Flow to her, filling herself with it so she shone brightly. The creatures fell back, as if hurt.
‘Return me home, now!’ she shouted at the orb and released the Flow.
Issa held her breath and prayed frantically as the orb struggled to regain control of itself. It fought against the chaotic noise and seeping darkness until, after an indeterminable amount of time and with almost an audible snap, she was pulled into a fast but controlled fall.
Gratefully gasping air back into her lungs, Issa found herself in the bath again—but she wasn’t alone. The orb in her hand became heavy and cold. It pulsated as black streaks shot through the swirling turquoise. The magic in the air around her suddenly lunged directly into the orb which became as heavy as lead. The orb plunged to the bottom of the bath. She tried to let go but her hands were stuck to its surface. Issa barely had time to suck in a breath before she was dragged under.
Her eyes smarted as she blinked through the stinging, soapy water and saw the Flow pouring into the orb as if it were being sucked through to somewhere else. She thrashed against it, fighting for control of the magic, and to push herself up and out of the water. As she desperately tried to pull the Flow back towards her, she could feel her mind being dragged along with it, into the orb, into the elemental power of water. The orb felt wrong and she battled against the taint and dirt, trying to push it out, but it seeped this way and that, evading her grasp.
She convulsed but forced her mouth to stay closed though her lungs burned from her body’s desperate need for air. Drawing upon all her strength, Issa tried to control the absolute panic that threatened to destroy her concentration.
As she calmed herself she became aware of a strange sound, like a blade sliding on a whetstone. Intonations whispered making her shiver. Words were spoken in an alien voice. She recoiled at the sound but focused harder on the voice, needing to know what was being said as it could be the key to breaking the black magic attacking the orb. The more she focused, the more clear it became. A female voice. She caught some of the words as they slithered into her mind, filling her with ice cold dread.
Ezzu t’ menarx yek gestiara.
The words were creating the blackness which fed off the Flow. A frozen numbness spread through her body and she could no longer feel her hands gripping the orb. The need for air was becoming a distant thing.
The blackness in the orb grew and began to order itself into a spinning vortex. Vortex’s become tunnels, she thought dimly. But where would this tunnel go? A vague sense of panic clenched her stomach and was gone. The centre of the vortex spun faster as she watched in paralysed mesmerisation. What would happen when the vortex connected and a tunnel was formed? She stared into it.
The voice grew louder. Behind it came other voices chanting in unison but not as loudly. Their words were harnessing and draining the power of the Flow, feeding it into the blackness and making the dark magic stronger. The vortex pulled on her strongly. Part of her wanted to go into it to see where it led, but another part viciously resisted and dragged her back. Her body convulsed violently, but her mind was so detached from it, it felt like a faint jerking sensation.
Powerful magic engulfed her. The vortex exploded into shards of black and the magic snapped, ripping her mind from the Flow. She screamed in agony, bubbles and soapy water filling her mouth. She lunged for the Flow to protect herself in some way but was blocked from it. Helpless, she floundered.
A strong, vice-like arm wrapped around her chest and arms and dragged her upwards. She opened her mouth and sucked in air, air which burned her throat even as it filled her lungs. She couldn’t seem to get enough of it. The shattered shards of vortex piercing her mind began to dissipate. Her lungs heaved out water and she coughed violently, expelling what she could before she greedily inhaled the life-giving air. Moments passed where everything was pain and chaos in her body and mind, and within the Flow.
The massive face of a dragon appeared just inches in front of her own, its snout long and nostrils flared. Black onyx horns sat like a crown upon its head. Ice-blue scales gleamed. Huge golden eyes with black slits glared at her. Powerful magic surged—the magic that was blocking her from the Flow. She was too weak and disorientated to fight for control of it.
She closed her eyes and when she re-opened them the dragon face was gone. Instead, the bleary image of a man with shiny black hair and a chiselled jaw looked back at her. She blinked again and the vision became clearer. The man had intense grey eyes ringed with luminous turquoise, perfect lips and the shadow of stubble. Water ran down his face and soaked his white shirt, sticking it to his body.
She realised he was holding her tightly against the back of the bath so she couldn’t move or sink into the water. She sucked in more air, trying to get her bearings. He relaxed his grip a little to let her breathe but did not let go.
‘What happened?’ she gasped, trembling. Domenon, that was his name.
‘Maybe you should tell me,’ he said, his face only inches from her. ‘Stupid girl. Don’t do that in Castle Rebben otherwise you’ll be thrown into the dungeon.’
‘I didn’t do anything.’ She shook her head and tried to release his grip but he only tightened it.
‘Yes, you did. I felt it. Which is why I came in here. I had to kick in the door! Lucky I did too, otherwise you’d have drowned. You created a dangerous thing. An unstable vortex, like the Storm Holt, only smaller. Before you play with magic like that, you need to know exactly what you are doing and where you are going. That’s why dimensional gates exist; to control the pathways and the magic.’
‘Yes, that’s right, but I didn’t create it. I was only scrying for Freydel!’
‘You scryed beyond Maioria’s natural boundaries—a very dangerous thing to do, especially with the likes of Baelthrom always watching.’ He growled and gripped her harder, to push the point home.
‘How do you know all this?’ she glanced at him and struggled against his grip. ‘And where is that dragon I saw after the magic broke? I only know one dragon and his name is Asaph.’
‘I’ve exhaustively studied inter-dimensional metaphysics,’ he said, loosening his grip. ‘And Asaph is not a real dragon. Do you normally scry for people in the bath?’
She shook her head. ‘No, it was just…important. And the orb is more powerful when in contact with its element.’
Domenon eyed her suspiciously. ‘What could be so important that you couldn’t wait half an hour? Where is Freydel? And what is he up to?’
Issa swallowed. She couldn’t tell him about Ayeth. That was a secret between her and Freydel—a dangerous secret, it seemed. If Domenon knew Freydel was travelling back in time and between dimensions to meet the being Baelthrom once was, the dark-haired wizard would certainly take it before the Wizards’ Circle. Freydel might lose his standing for fraternising with the enemy. Worse, he might lose his powers and his orb. She couldn’t confide in Domenon, he was not a man to share secrets with. But he had just saved her life, and she owed him. She forgave him, just a little, for knocking her down over Orphinius.
‘Listen, I did not create that tunnel! I was merely using the orb to look for Freydel. I could not find him where he should be so I looked further afield and then something beyond Maioria attacked me.’
Domenon was staring into her eyes as if trying to gauge whether she was telling the truth. He gave a slight nod.
‘Then something attacked you? It might be wise for you to find out what.’
Issa nodded, still deeply shaken.
‘I felt black magic surge into the Flow,’ he said. ‘It was happening in here. Look what you made me do to the door.’ He motioned to the hunk of wood which was now laying flat on the floor. The doorframe was broken with splintered wood evident around the bolt and lock.
‘You were drowning, physically and mentally, and I had to box you out of the Flow. It wasn’t easy, yo
u were thrashing around so much. Everything is soaked, including me.’ He suddenly grinned and used his other hand to wipe the water from his face. His hair was dripping and his white shirt was plastered to his chest, revealing just how muscular the man was—unusual for a wizard who was dedicated to the study of magic, and a Master Wizard at that, who dedicated more time than anyone else.
‘Oh dear,’ said Issa, staring at the puddles surrounding the bathtub for several feet. There was as much water out of the tub as there was in it.
With an awful realisation, it dawned on Issa that she was sitting naked in the bath. Only bubbles and soap concealed her submerged nether regions, but her breasts were pressed firmly against Domenon’s arm that still clamped her to the back of the bath.
He smiled at her colouring cheeks but did not let her go. ‘Forgive me for saving your life. You would have drowned,’ he said in a quieter voice. His eyes searched hers for something and she would have felt undressed by them if she hadn’t been naked already. She dropped her gaze in embarrassment. Nudity meant little when your life was at stake, she consoled herself.
‘Thank you,’ her voice was barely a whisper. ‘You can let me go now.’
He released her slowly and gently and she immediately covered her breasts with her arms. He rose to his feet and looked down at her, a half-smile on his face. It annoyed her that she found him so handsome. He was the only person she had ever met who managed to disarm and conquer everyone.
‘What?’ she asked when he failed to stop looking at her.
‘You really do remind me of someone… maybe it is your parents. It’s coming to me slowly, hmm. Without your Dragon Lord, it’s very clear you need someone to protect you. So many are hunting you, you’d need an army to keep you safe. I’ll do what I can if you accept my humble services.’ He spread his arm and bowed slightly.
She didn’t know if he was mocking her weaknesses or genuinely being helpful but she nodded anyway.
‘We’ll be safer in Castle Rebben where I have created far stronger shields. Until then, don’t scry for Freydel, or anyone else for that matter. I suggest you shield this room tonight. Inter-dimensional vortexes have a nasty habit of hanging around even if they aren’t formed properly.’ He gave a lingering look at her then turned to go.
‘Wait. What about the dragon?’ she said, realising he hadn’t answered her.
A frown of what could have been read as either worry or irritation passed across his face. ‘Dragons can travel dimensionally too; but no dragon was attacking you. I would have felt that for sure. You have no Secondary Keeper for your orb. I suggest you get one and I suggest you choose me.’
‘It clearly should be Freydel,’ she said, challenging him.
He half turned away, his straight nose and sharp chin silhouetted in the lamplight.
‘I am not stupid, Issa. Your orb should not have been compromised like that tonight. They are not keyed to any dimension other than Maioria’s, and when taken outside of that dimension they are wildly unstable. From what I’ve seen, I know far more about the orbs than any on the Wizards’ Circle, and yet I am the one who has none.’
‘They don’t trust how you will use it, Domenon. You seem power-hungry.’
He smirked and looked at her. ‘And Freydel is not?’
She paused, forgetting what she was about to say. Wasn’t the most powerful wizard in Maioria also power hungry? Look at how he talked about Ayeth, the way his eyes lit up when he spoke about the magic the Aralan was teaching him. She suddenly felt cold and uncertain. No one seemed to be who they really were; not Freydel or Domenon. At least Asaph seemed more normal now Cirosa’s clutch on him was gone. She swallowed, realising there was no one she could fully trust any more. The thought concerned her deeply.
Maybe it was because of the worried look on her face that Domenon came back to her. He laid his hand on her shoulder. ‘Look, goosebumps. You’re shivering and will catch a cold.’ He picked up a fluffy pink towel and held it up for her, turning his face away. ‘I won’t look, I promise.’
Sighing, she turned her back to him and stood, clutching it from his hands as he draped it around her shoulders.
‘We need to talk about this once I have thought on it,’ said Domenon. ‘The orbs are being compromised, and there is something you and Freydel are not telling me. I can’t protect you if I don’t know what is going on. If I suspect people themselves are becoming compromised, that Baelthrom might be reaching them in his myriad of evil ways, then it will be brought before all the councils of the Free Peoples. We must protect ourselves at all costs from Baelthrom’s spies.’
Domenon’s hard gaze softened. ‘Why don’t we talk about it another time when you’ve recovered? Perhaps in my library at Castle Rebben. We shall be there tomorrow evening if we set off at dawn.’
There came the sound of footsteps pelting on floorboards and then Velonorian burst into the room, his long knife drawn and a sheen of sweat on his face as he fought to catch his breath.
‘Lady Issa, are you all right?’ he gasped. ‘I had to run all the way here. They’ve put me at the other end of this stupid house. I felt dark magic and knew you were in danger.’
Domenon looked at her with a raised eyebrow. ‘You’re already gaining an army of protectors.’
She gave him a withering smile and turned to the young elf. ‘I’m all right, Velonorian. Domenon broke the black magic.’
The elf nodded vigorously. ‘Oh good. Thank you, Master Wizard.’ He bowed. ‘I shall have the maids house me closer so I can keep watch all night.’
A loud bell trilled from outside the room.
‘Ah, dinner,’ said Domenon rubbing his hands together. ‘I’ll send someone up to fix the door whilst you’re dining.’ He patted the elf’s shoulder as he left the room.
Issa smiled weakly at Velonorian. ‘Honestly, I’m all right. Why don’t you wait outside while I get dressed? Then we can go to dinner together.’ Though she didn’t want to be alone at all right now.
‘Yes, my Queen,’ he bowed deeply and slipped outside.
A tapping came from outside the window and she opened it to let Ehka in. As she did so, the shadows behind the curtain moved. Jumping back, she ran for her sword then wondered why Ehka was doing nothing but preening himself?
‘Miss Issy?’ Maggot hissed and his ugly face and big yellow eyes formed out of the shadows.
‘Uh, Maggot,’ she sighed, setting her sword down and slumping onto the bed. ‘Tonight, I can’t take any more surprises.’
‘I came before the wizard but had to hide from his magic. I saw he was helping you.’
The demon fully materialised out of the shadows and hesitantly stepped towards her. He laid a tiny cold hand on her bare calf. ‘The magic that had you was dangerous, Issy. Undoing magic. Magic like Karhlusus used.’
She smiled, reached down and picked him up. He squirmed and moaned in her grasp. She realised he had never been picked up before. Laughing, she plonked him in her lap.
‘Oh Maggot, what is going on? I’m beginning to feel I can’t trust anyone. I worry for the two most powerful wizards on Maioria; one is losing himself to magic and the other is hell bent on getting it for himself.’
‘Something hunts you, Issy. I saw it in the black vortex. It’s an Eater.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘An Eater. It eats things, alive. Lesser demons eat things alive as punishment but we prefer eating dead things. Greater demons eat things alive for fun. That was more than a greater demon.’
‘Is it from the Pit?’ Issa asked.
Maggot shook his head. ‘It’s not even from the Abyss.’
Issa frowned. ‘Where was it from then?’
Maggot shook his head, paused for a moment, then pointed upwards, confirming her deepest fears. From above, from the Dark Rift. She chewed her lip, finally accepting the obvious. Freydel had gone to Ayeth, and the orb, dutifully doing her bidding, had tried to reach for him. Remembering the Orb of Water, she set Maggot on the bed
and went to the tub.
The orb was floating now, its beautiful turquoise surface sparkling once more. She picked it up and dried it on her towel. The bell rang again and, though she had now lost her ravenous appetite, she thought it would be utterly rude not to join everyone for dinner. She quickly dried herself and pulled on her tunic, leggings and seer’s robe that had been gifted to her by Iyena. She finished combing her hair and turned back to the little demon who had been watching her curious preening behaviour all the while.
‘Is that where the dragon came from, Maggot? From the Dark Rift?’
‘No, Miss Issy, that came from the wizard.’
19
Temple of Sacrifice
MORHORK lifted his head and growled.
He found himself listening for something, but there was nothing to hear. His sleep was often disturbed and he had trouble reaching the deepest slumber where he could stay for hundreds of years. The energies of Maioria were becoming increasingly erratic and he increasingly sensitive to them.
The part of his consciousness within his human body was harder to shut off since that foolish half-breed had awoken him. It worried him how strong that connection was becoming. Perhaps it had been a bad idea ever forming such an alliance with a human. It was clouding—infecting—his perfect judgement with thoughts and feelings he did not want, and which certainly did not belong to a dragon.
At odd moments he found himself wondering about humans and even feeling concerned about his human body that was out there, far away. Was he becoming like those human dragon half-breeds he detested so much? He snorted a cloud of smoke into the dark cave and ground his claws into the frozen rock beneath him, making deep grooves within it.
Never. I’ll never be like them and I’ll never like them.
He laid his head back down and blinked into the blackness, his tail tip flicking. That girl intrigued him, he wanted to know more about her. He fancied himself mating with her but that might cause trouble. He enjoyed trouble.
Dragons of the Dawn Bringer: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 5 Page 23