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

by Araya Evermore

  The pair paused at the back of the temple on the darkest part of the path. Looking left then right, they turned and stepped lightly across the grass as if trying not to flatten it but Asaph could see the imprints of several feet. Many had come this way. They stopped at the smooth base of the temple. The woman brushed her hand over the wall and, to Asaph’s horror, traced the mark of Maphrax upon it. A portion of the wall faded to reveal a sconce-lit passageway that glowed red. She stepped inside and disappeared but the priest paused and looked around, frowning.

  ‘Who’s there?’ the priest commanded, his voice harsh.

  Asaph’s heart leapt into his throat.

  ‘What is it?’ said the woman, appearing again.

  ‘I can sense something. The Under Flow is unhappy,’ said the man, sidling back across the grass.

  ‘Come, we are late for the sacrifice. The guards are on their highest alert,’ hissed the woman irritably. She turned away and went back inside.

  Frowning, the man ignored her and carried on his search. Asaph’s mind went into overdrive, both at his predicament and what was taking place in the temple. Sacrifice was black magic. The situation of the Temple in the heart of Carvon was far worse than anybody realised. They really were in league with Baelthrom. Was the entire Order of the Goddess now the enemy as well? Had the Free People been betrayed from within? The thought was heart stopping.

  The man was now walking straight towards him. Asaph wished he could detect and use magic in his human form. He inched back behind a tree trunk, racking his brains. Play innocent, he decided, that way he would know their true intentions. Unbuckling his sword, he dropped it amongst the ferns, took a deep breath and wobbled out from behind the tree.

  ‘It was my friends’ fault,’ he said, swaying slightly and putting on his most sheepish expression. ‘We all got waaay too drunk, see? They played a prank and pushed me over the wall. Now I can’t find the way out. I wasn’t causin’ any trouble.’

  The man’s face turned from one of anger into a sly smile. ‘They don’t sound like very good friends to me. Surely a man of your musculature would be able to fight back?’

  Asaph grinned foolishly, his heart pounding in his chest.

  The man stepped closer, moving like a predator. Asaph wished he hadn’t dropped his sword.

  ‘Why don’t you come inside and have a hot drink before you go?’ said the man.

  Asaph realised then that he was covered in dirt and foliage and must look like a peasant. Getting inside was all he had wanted to do, but now faced with the prospect he wanted to run a mile.

  The priest reached a companionable arm around his shoulders, making him shiver. There was a loud clap that seemed to come from within his skull, followed by intense pain. His consciousness scattered into the blackness.

  20

  Karalanth Army

  FINDING her hunger again, Issa hurried after the maid to the dining hall and took the only empty chair left which was opposite Domenon.

  She was late, everyone was already seated around a long table laden with food. A bowl of green soup and warm, crusty bread sat waiting for her. The Master Wizard smiled at her in a way that made her cheeks burn. She tried not to remember that just moments ago he’d had his arm around her in the bath.

  ‘Ah, Lady Issa,’ said Duke Beddan standing to greet her.

  Velonorian leapt to his feet and ran to pull her chair out for her to sit before the butler could get there.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said to the elf and turned to the Duke. ‘Apologies for my lateness. There were things I needed to attend to.’ If he was angered about the broken door, he didn’t show it. Perhaps Domenon had, thankfully, not mentioned it.

  ‘May I introduce my wife, Duchess Emiline,’ he said, gesturing to the slight woman with rouge cheeks seated beside him.

  Her long face and full, painted pink lips were quite distinguishing. She had a shock of golden curls held up by a band. Her back was straight and she held her head high but she toyed with her fingers constantly, hinting at a nervous disposition. She smiled warmly at Issa.

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Issa politely and turned to her soup.

  A servant poured her a glass of fine Davonian rosé wine. She took a sip but, although it was delicious, she didn’t feel like letting her guard down tonight and instead stuck to the water.

  The elves were talking quietly amongst themselves in Elven, as they often did. Some might call it rude but Issa tried to see it as just their manner along with a distrust of any human or dwarven folk. They left for the Land of Mists for a reason and were forced to return, mostly against their will. It might take many generations for them to trust humans again, she thought. It was also a sign of their nervousness in this violent world.

  Domenon had turned back to his conversation with the Duke, speaking in Davonian and leaving her to wolf down her soup. As soon as she’d finished, the servants whisked away the empty bowl and placed a huge pie with roast potatoes and peppered vegetables in front of her.

  ‘Are you all right, Lady Issa?’ asked Velonorian who was seated to her right. He was already half way through his pie and showed no signs of slowing.

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ she half-lied. The recent commotion had left her shaken. She didn’t feel like chatting and wanted nothing more than to eat and think upon everything that had happened. She was relieved that everyone else was engaged in their own conversations and that the duchess was too far away to engage in polite chitchat.

  ‘I don’t feel much like socialising, mind. I think I need a good night’s sleep.’

  ‘With me guarding you, you can rest easy.’ Velonorian smiled.

  She returned his smile. She did feel better knowing Domenon and her elf chaplain were looking out for her but the thought of going back to her room where she had been attacked made her uneasy.

  As soon as she had finished desert—a delicious honeyed sponge cake—she made her excuses and left the table. Velonorian scraped his chair back to follow her, but she made him sit and finish his second helping of dessert. Thankfully, a maid showed her back to her room saving her from getting lost in the maze of corridors.

  In the short time she’d been away, the bath had been removed, the water mopped up and the door fixed. Ehka perched on the bed-frame dozing and Maggot had gone.

  Once alone, she slipped into her nightshirt, put out all the lanterns except the one on the bedside table, and sunk onto the bed with a sigh. She got under the covers, intending to sleep but as soon as she closed her eyes, her mind went into overdrive.

  Neither of the two most powerful wizards in Maioria trusted each other, and now she was beginning to distrust them both. No one was who they said they were. Even Baelthrom wasn’t what he seemed. No, Baelthrom is a twisted abomination. It was Ayeth who caused the confusion.

  What were those things she had seen earlier, the veiled beings that had tried to feed off her? The Dark Rift ate the living light of planets. These veiled Eaters, as Maggot called them, consumed the energy of beings. Was that what inhabited the Dark Rift? Remorseless, twisted, fallen beings—beings like Baelthrom. They didn’t care what they did to others and, worse, they felt entitled to. The living were simply their food. She shivered. Did the solution to destroying the Dark Rift lie within the Dark Rift itself? Such thoughts hurt her head.

  She opened her eyes and looked at her flame ring that gleamed in the low light of the smouldering hearth. She wished Asaph were with her. All she wanted was for someone to trust. Someone to tell her what to do. She wished she were flying with him. When they were together she felt stronger. He wouldn’t be gone long, she reminded herself. She should worry about herself first before she started worrying for a Dragon Lord’s safety.

  I have a war to command. I must turn my mind to the task at hand and think like Marakon thinks, like a battle commander thinks. And lying here was simply wasting time. She threw off the covers and her nightshirt and pulled on her dread dragon armour, strapping her blacksmith's belt and sword over the t
op of it. The orb she slipped into its usual sack and hooked it around her belt then held the raven talisman up. Ehka hopped closer, wondering what she was doing.

  ‘I can’t sleep, so I think a visit to the Karalanths is long overdue,’ she said to the bird. ‘You know where they might be? Good.’

  Undoing the window latch she let it swing open and a cool breeze blew in. She took a deep breath and focused on the talisman.

  ‘Make me raven,’ she commanded, pulling on the barest bit of the Flow so no magic wielder would feel it. She didn’t want Domenon running into her room again.

  The change was fast. There came a brief moment when the wind seemed to blow through every particle in her body, and then she was perched on the floor staring up at the bigger raven, Ehka. The thrill of the wild filled her and she wanted nothing more than to rush to the window and jump into the air.

  Ehka squawked and hopped onto the ledge. She landed beside him, the wind ruffling her feathers. With another squawk, he leapt into the night. With a crying caw of delight, she followed. The wind filled her wings pushing her into the air. The night was bright with the white light of Doon and an orange sliver of Woetala. Clouds hurried across the sky but never enough to cover the moons for long.

  She glanced back at the palace. Most of the lights were still on since she’d gone to bed early. Below, the pale shingle road leading up to the palace was stark as it wound through trees. The port city seemed far away, its lights glimmering.

  Ehka was a dark smudge ahead. With her acute avian senses, she could feel her companion’s presence better than she could see him. He angled right, towards the dark forest and away from the city lights. Across the forest and far away, she could see the white tops of the Everridge Mountains. The permanent snow at their very tips caught the moonlight and led them on. Somewhere in the forests at the base of those mountains, the Karalanths gathered. She had scryed for them some time ago now, and she wondered how many had gathered there, preparing themselves to invade their own land and take back what had once been theirs.

  Everything depended on Queen Thora allowing them, and all the armies and mercenaries, safe passage to the coast. Marakon would lead the Feylint Halanoi and the Knights of the Raven. Even though he had tried to pass the knight’s leadership over to her, she knew she wasn’t ready to. They needed an experienced military commander and she doubted she would ever be that. Much depended on the queen allowing her country to become a staging post; but Issa doubted she would agree to let in a legion of demons. Hopefully they wouldn’t ever need Gedrock’s demons, but she doubted it.

  It struck her, then, how she had mobilised most of the Free World for war. I didn’t do it alone, she reassured herself. Still, how many would die because of her plans? They would all die if nothing was done. She was doing the right thing; it was the only thing she could think to do short of facing Baelthrom herself. Would it come to that in the end? Must I face Baelthrom myself?

  The wind turned increasingly bitter and she was very glad when Ehka finally dropped into the darkness of the forest towards the warm glow of a distant campfire.

  ‘Soon I meet with Queen Thora,’ said Issa to Cusap’anth and Rhul’ynth. The Karalanth leaders clustered close, their impressive antlers catching the light of the fire. They were decorated in the warrior symbols of Woetala and in the flickering light they looked quite menacing. ‘I cannot imagine the Queen refusing passage to our armies through her lands given what we propose. And I hope she sends her own army to join us, and quickly before the enemy suspects anything.’

  Issa passed a glance across the vast crowd of Karalanth warriors resting in the forest. There were two thousand, Cusap’anth had said, and another two thousand on the way. The monumental reality of what they had planned—to attack Venosia—made her mouth go dry.

  As if sensing this, Rhul’ynth placed a hand on Issa’s shoulder. ‘Look, friend, we will do this with or without you. Our time has come. Woetala has gathered us. We will fight to take back what is ours or die trying.’

  Issa nodded and squeezed her friend’s hand. ‘Thank the goddess you made it this far. But there are a lot of unknowns ahead of us, which is why I plan to scout Venosia’s western coast with Ehka. That way we can draw up maps and attack where the enemy is weakest. Yes, it will be dangerous, but not so much for a raven.’

  Cusap’anth grinned. ‘Then perhaps I shall send my owl to do similar, and any of our totems that will make suitable scouts. Where is Asaph?’

  ‘The Sword of Binding called to him and he has gone to rouse the dragons. He had to go alone. I pray to Zanufey that he will make it back to us safely and in time for the invasion.’ Issa took a deep breath and tried to push her fears aside.

  ‘A Karalanth army, a dragon army—what could be stronger?’ He laughed.

  ‘There is more,’ Issa said. She’d already told them about her trials within the Storm Holt, much to their shock and awe. ‘It’s possible I’ll be able to call on the demons, should we have need. Although I don’t want to run out of favours with them too quickly. This invasion is just a small battle, we have an entire war to win ahead of us.’

  Cusap’anth’s face turned hard. ‘Then we will win it one battle at a time.’

  Issa hoped there would be enough of them left when the last battle came. ‘After I have spoken to the queen, I will send Ehka to you to let you know. Gather as many as you can as far south as you can. Don’t harm any Davonian scouts and I’ll tell the queen you simply seek passage. With the goddess’s blessing, I’ll see you again at Port South Reach.’

  Suppressing a yawn, she suddenly felt very tired and she still had an hour of flying ahead of her. Hugging the two Karalanths, she called the raven form to her and launched into the air. The eastern wind was frigid but at least it now blew her in the right direction.

  ‘Lady Issa. I’m sorry to wake you, but Master Wizard Domenon is already waiting with the others by your carriage.’

  Issa groaned. The maid threw open the curtains. The sky was dark and dawn looked at least half an hour away.

  ‘Is it even morning?’ Issa dragged herself out of bed yawning. She could only have had a few hours’ sleep.

  With the maid’s help, she was packed, dressed and sitting in the carriage before the sun made it over the horizon. Duskar and Ironclad were tied on behind, and the carriages rolled slowly away from the palace.

  ‘Busy night?’ Domenon, seated opposite her, raised his eyebrow.

  Issa didn’t bother replying. Instead, she folded up her cloak into a pillow and leant against the window. The rocking of the carriage had her asleep in moments.

  She awoke when they paused for an early lunch. The sky was dark and it was pouring with rain so there was no point leaving the carriage to explore. Domenon had said they would reach Rebben by nightfall and, as the drizzle fell against the window, it looked to be a long and boring ride. At least she could sleep for most of it, she consoled herself.

  Domenon was busy sorting through official papers that bore the seal of Queen Thora.

  ‘Do you think Baelthrom can be healed?’ she asked. He looked at her with a frown. ‘You know, can he be reached and made to see what he is doing is wrong?’

  Domenon chuckled at first, then paused when he saw the look on her face. ‘I can see you’re serious, Issa, but if that were possible, it would have been done by the Ancients long ago. No, he is too far gone. Had he been Maiorian, then maybe a way could have been found. But we do not even know what is in the Dark Rift where he came from. We don’t understand our enemy and that’s what makes him so dangerous.’

  Issa considered this for a time. ‘I saw what is in there, that night in the bath…There are Light Eaters in there, like wraiths and Life Seekers. I don’t know what else to call them. They sense the living and want to feed on them. Tall, formless things. Perhaps that is where he brought the Life Seekers from.’ Issa shivered at the memory of the Light Eaters clustering around her.

  Domenon considered this, seemed about to speak then c
hanged his mind. ‘So, where were you last night? I came to see if you were all right, and you weren’t there.’

  ‘I couldn’t sleep and, rather than scry as you warned me not to do, I needed to see the Karalanths. They are ready to advance through Davono as soon as Queen Thora gives the go ahead.’ She shrugged. ‘They will advance anyway, one way or another, but I’d rather they did it with her approval.’

  Domenon smoothed his hair back. ‘I can’t protect you if you are not here and you don’t tell me where you’re going.’

  Issa was surprised at the genuine look of concern in his face. Or did he just dislike not being able to control her?

  ‘You should not go off alone.’ He sighed. ‘But you seem to enjoy danger…Hmm, there’s something else I have been meaning to mention. The more I’ve thought on it, the more something doesn’t add up. There is an odd blank spot in my memory that I just cannot reconcile. So I decided to speak to Sheyengetha about your parents. If anyone knew about them, Sheyengetha would. Oddly, the tree would not say anything other than, “some secrets are not ours to tell.” Knowing how keen you are to find out more about them, I assumed you would have talked to Sheyengetha about it.’

  Issa watched the rain run down the window. ‘You are certainly very clever to think that. Yes, I did talk to the Sheyengetha but I will say the same, the secret is not mine to tell. The only thing that matters to me is where they are now—and no one can tell me that.’

  ‘Perhaps I can, if I knew what they looked like,’ said Domenon.

  Issa chewed her lip. What if he knew where they were? She’d do anything to find them. But she couldn’t betray her parents’ secret and tell him.

  ‘I have an excellent memory and the ability to recall even details from my birth,’ said Domenon, watching her without blinking. ‘So this ‘blank spot’ in my mind is terribly irregular. You are aware that any spell under the banner of “A Web” is illegal on the Isle of Myrn, as are many witches’ spells.’