He shut the book. Why had leaving Ryca not stopped this endless plundering of his people’s work? His magic, which had faltered on Ryca, worked well on Isa. So why did his people’s words continue to vanish? The question bounced around in his mind without rest as his group stirred.
Though Tamara remained curled into a ball, apparently not yet willing to greet a new day, on her other side, Skye sat up and stretched. Across from them, Fane rose and glanced at Jarrod with a face still creased by sleep. Thyel, too, was awake, but chose to watch them all without comment. He had the look of a predator. Jarrod frowned, wishing for the hundredth time that this man had never come along with them.
“Is anything wrong?” Skye asked him.
Jarrod stood. “I need morning privacy,” he mumbled and with Falcon’s Tome hugged to his side, he went in the direction of the lake.
He must have sat, book clutched to his chest, unable to move for too long, for Skye suddenly sat beside him, her hand his arm. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Despite not wanting to add to her worry about Bevan, his words tumbled out. “The Erovians were disappearing before I left. Now our work vanishes from Falcon’s Tome. Skye, what if my world is not there when we return to Ryca?”
“Show me what’s happening to the book,” she said.
He handed the book over.
After the fifth empty page, she sat staring at the blank sheet for a moment. Then she brought her hand, palm up and a tiny Light ball formed.
“What are you doing?” Jarrod asked, more from curiosity than any real sense of hope.
“The strength of my magic is to find things. Let’s see if I can discover the whereabouts of your words.”
“Do you think it can?” Excitement spiked his tone.
In answer, she dropped the Light ball onto the page. It rolled in a zigzag fashion from one side of the book to the other, like a hound seeking out a scent. The pages began to flutter, turning until one with words appeared. There, the search Light’s movement slowed. With infinite patience, the Light rose, fell and circled each stroke of each letter and then stopped and lay unmoving in the middle of the page.
Jarrod’s hopes deflated. He opened his mouth to say, “Thanks for trying,” when the little Light leaped off the page and hovered before their faces. Then it burst into a blinding spray and fell backwards, pulling Jarrod along with it.
He found himself in a land of darkness, of nothing. Complete and absolute emptiness. He couldn’t see where he stood, or if he stood on anything. Or how to get back to where he’d been. He swung around, heart pounding in fear when from out of nowhere, a cacophony of voices bellowed, “OUT!”
Something picked him up and flung him violently, sending him sailing over an immense chasm. His vision cleared to show he still sat beside Skye on the grassy shore. Had he imagined that moment of being somewhere else? His body still shivered and trembled as if the source of all Darkness had swallowed him. Then spat him out.
Skye stared at him with confused eyes.
He rubbed the sides of his ears to clear the painful high-pitched ringing. “Do you hear that?”
She looked at him with grave eyes. “What?”
“A million voices ordering me to get out.”
“Odd. When my Light flared, I had the impression it dove in search of your words into someplace frightening. Then it died. Before that, I received a word.”
His heart leaped in anticipation. “What was it?”
“I didn’t get a sense of a specific location, or of people, as you seemed to have. Just a word. ‘Beginning.’ Saying that fills me with dread, Jarrod. I don’t think it’s a good place.”
“Wherever the record of Ryca’s history has gone,” he said, “frightening or not, it’s my duty to retrieve it.”
“But how?”
“I have to find a way. Erovians record the passage of lives in Falcon’s Tome. Stories of people to preserve Ryca’s past. I have to find a way to bring back the missing words or lives as we lived them may never have existed.”
“How is that possible?”
“Everything, everyone is dependent on what happened in the past. The disappearance of my historians is the start of our world changing beyond recognition.”
“We need Bevan’s help. If anyone can discover a way to restore Falcon’s Tome, he can.” Skye closed the tome and handed it back to him. “This means finding my brother is more imperative now than ever.”
They broke camp shortly after. Jarrod picked up his pack, his mind whirling about the destiny of Falcon’s Tome. Ahead of him, Thyel took Tamara’s hand. Though she soon shook off his hold, Thyel’s proprietary behavior irked Jarrod. Perhaps because the problem with the tome had already vexed his humor, he had the urge walk up to Thyel and punch him.
“Calmmmm,” he murmured to himself, repeating the word until his temper settled.
Skye fell into easy step beside him.
Fane ran to catch up to them.
Around the campfire last night, they couldn’t quiet the young lad from talking about the dragon encounter. Only Tamara had slept through the lively discourse, seemingly too worn out to let any noise bother her.
She had looked peaceful in sleep, her face relaxed, the frown lines gentled, her breathing soft and even. Once, late into the night, he’d heard her whimper. He’d turned sideways, bent his arm until he could rest his head on his hand and stared at her by the flickering shadows of the dying fire.
When her cries mounted he sent soothing thoughts her way, of a wispy wind brushing her golden hair, of the two of them sitting side by side on a mat under a bright blue tent gazing at a desert landscape, the sands shifting gently, the air pleasantly warm and restful. Her cries faded and her exhausted body carried her into deeper sleep.
“I’ve thought a great deal about that dragon last night,” Fane said.
Jarrod hid a smile.
“And I’ve come to the conclusion it’s the one I’m meant to bond with. I believe it flew by us because it sensed my presence. If so, this portends well for a natural bonding.”
“One that could take us off Isa and grant you long life?” Skye asked.
Thyel dropped back. “What’s all the excitement?”
“Fane thinks the dragon from last night might be a natural bond for him,” Skye said.
“I thought you couldn’t tell that until you actually bonded.” Thyel’s tone and raised eyebrow suggested profound doubt.
“True,” Fane said, “it’s not easy to tell for sure until after the bonding. The fact I sensed his thoughts is a wonderful sign, sir. My master sensed his dragon before they met formally. His was a lifetime bond!”
The words warmed Jarrod and despite his best efforts to remain rational, hope again circled his heart like a purring sand cat.
Tamara, too, joined them, her eyes eager.
This news meant that not only would they no longer be trapped on Isa but, once they found Bevan, she could return home. To marry.
Jarrod glanced at Thyel with distaste. In all likelihood, she would choose this man to present to her mother.
He shook his head at his train of thought. He’d lost his perspective. Who Tamara married was none of his affair, other than to record the event in his tome. Yet, the thought of her and Thyel together churned the acid in his empty stomach. That reminded him they’d all left without eating.
He fished in his pack for another flatbread. “Anyone hungry?”
They stopped for a short rest and passed the food around. Jarrod ate his portion, and then opened his tome and took out his quill. His obsession to write grew with each passing moment. Perhaps he wished to counter the effect of the gradual eroding of his people’s words. If so, this was a sad substitute, but he could not refrain from indulging in the practice.
“I don’t see how you can be so sure this one dragon is the right one?” Thyel gestured to Fane with his piece of bread.
“I might be mistaken, sir,” Fane said gravely, “but I sensed this dragon’s thoughts
without any ceremony of bonding. That is promising. I’ve heard tell that sometimes dragons call to a human who is its proper match, even across realms.”
Tamara drew in a sharp breath.
Jarrod glanced at her. “Something the matter?”
Her eyes filled with confusion, she shook her head.
“Have you been getting such a call?” Skye asked Fane.
“No,” Fane admitted, “and that could be a fanciful dragon tale the keepers pass on.”
“Tell us more of this bonding process,” Jarrod said.
“The ceremony is convoluted,” Fane said. “The dragon’s emotions – its fears, anxieties and pleasures - all become absorbed by the human. The dragon takes a drink of the human’s feelings. This first step is to ensure safeguards are in place. Most of my lessons were about keeping my mind and thoughts protected, separate. Else, during the bonding, the most dominant mind could take over.”
“Is that possible?” Thyel asked. “Can a man control a dragon?”
“It’s forbidden,” Fane replied. “There have been tales of humans and dragons effecting such a dark binding. It’s always ended in disaster for both. Dragons, especially, take high offence to being constrained.”
“Is it during the bonding ceremony that a human begins to sense the dragon’s thoughts?” Tamara asked.
“Yes. Yet, last night, for a moment, I was up there with that dragon, searching for someone important.”
“You still don’t know who though, do you?” Skye asked.
“No.”
“You said before that this human-dragon bonding also affected the dragons?” Jarrod asked. “In what way?”
“Something in the bonding accelerates breeding in the dragons. My master didn’t understand the process, just that over the centuries, it’s proven true.”
“Did the bonding have an effect on dragon society as a whole?” Jarrod asked.
“The family lines of dragons that successfully bonded with humans became highly placed members of the dragon council. The one that could bond for a lifetime, that dragon’s family traditionally ruled the dragons of Isa.”
They set off again, listening to Fane talk of dragons and their ways. A crash through the shrubbery ahead alerted them to trouble.
A man raced toward them down their narrow path.
“Traveler, may we speak with you,” Fane called out.
“Run!” he shouted and shoved his way through their group. He ran off behind them, arms flailing
“What’s he running from?” Tamara asked in fear. “A giant?”
Shouts came from ahead.
“Whatever it is, it’s coming our way.” Jarrod shut his book. “Take cover!”
They scrambled to either side of the pathway. Men raced through the woods, shouting. Behind them, branches snapped and hoofs pounded a thunderous rhythm. Soon, a herd of sturdy looking elks tore through the path, fleeing in all directions. One charged directly at Tamara. Before Jarrod could go to her aid, Thyel pulled her out of harm’s way.
Jarrod herded Fane and Skye in the opposite direction as another frightened animal charged by. A fallen branch tripped him. Tumbling off balance, Jarrod reached for the other two, hoping to whisk them all magically to safety. A hoof smashed onto his extended left arm. A sharp crack and a flash of pain shot up to his shoulder. He cried out.
Hands grabbed and pulled him out of the stampeding animals’ path. He gritted his teeth as breath-searing throbs swept through his body in waves.
Once the panicked animals swept by, Tamara rushed over to his side.
Jarrod tenderly nursed his left arm, but even that slight movement sent a jagged spike rushing up to his shoulder and brought embarrassing tears. To avoid her stricken gaze, he glanced around at the rest of the damage the stampede had caused, and spotted his trampled book, its pages scattered.
“Falcon’s Tome!” he cried out. The loss of the tome eclipsed his physical discomfort. He reached for the pages, but Tamara firmly held him in place.
“Skye, Fane, collect Jarrod’s book and pages. Thyel, help me hold him still.” Gingerly, she inspected his injury.
With his entire left side aching, Jarrod followed her gaze. Blood stained his white sleeve and a piece of bone protruded angrily through his dark skin.
Fane came over, clutching a few sheets to his chest to stare at Jarrod, aghast. “It’s broken.”
“Yes, and needs setting.” Tamara met Jarrod’s gaze with such tender sympathy, he almost fainted with surprise.
“Whatever frightened those villagers and animals is probably headed our way,” Thyel said. “There’s no time to tend to Jarrod.”
“He’s right,” Jarrod said through gritted teeth, trying to control the pain so he could think. “Your safety comes first.”
“Could you magic us elsewhere?” Fane asked.
Jarrod tried and the world went black. He regained consciousness in time to hear Tamara speak.
“Magic’s out then,” she said. “He can barely stay awake. The rest of you go. I’ll stay with him.”
“No,” Jarrod and Skye spoke together.
“I’m not leaving either of you.” Skye glared at her aunt.
A loud roar vibrated his eardrums. One of the elk, separated from its herd, bellowed in fear as it raced by. In its wake, a swath of fire parted the trees.
“Stay low,” Thyel whispered. “Too late to go anywhere now.”
The elk jumped to clear some low bushes. A green dragon, with shimmering scales, plunged down and plucked the elk in mid-leap. It then swooped up, the force of its wing beats bending nearby trees and flattening Jarrod to the ground.
The dragon’s flight faltered, its startlingly iridescent wings flapping rapidly to keep it airborne. The elk still clamped in its powerful jaws, it turned and hovered, directing its disconcertingly golden gaze straight at them.
“It’s seen us!” Jarrod shouted. “Run!”
An intense hunger tore through Tamara’s innards. Her legs gave out and she sank to her knees.
The dragon, too, lost its balance. Still clutching its meal in its jaws, it crashed, landing in a contortion of wings and limbs and broken branches.
Falcon’s Tome in her arms, Skye knelt beside Tamara and whispered, “What should we do?”
Thyel gestured to Fane. “Time you lived up to your part of this journey, boy. Go talk to it.”
Fane handed the sheets he’d gathered to Skye and walked toward the dragon.
After barely two crunches, the dragon swallowed the elk and glanced again in their direction.
Tamara, her stomach rumbling and rolling searched for Jarrod’s pack. She felt ready to tear into it in search of a flat bread but it was nowhere in sight.
Frustrated, she looked up in time to see Fane stumble back and waited for him to say, “It’s hungry, so very hungry.”
Instead, he appeared confused. “That’s the wrong dragon. That’s not the bronze from last night. I sense nothing from this green.”
Stunned, Tamara stared at him. How could Fane be impervious to that intense need to eat?
The dragon let out a great roar.
Tamara looked over. It’s glaring at me!
As if she were to blame for its lack of sustenance.
“She’s obviously hungry,” Tamara said. “We must find her more food.”
“Her?” Skye asked in surprise.
“Hard to tell if it’s male or female,” Fane said. “Though the face does seem feminine, with the shorter ears and rounded forehead.”
“She’s probably looking at us as her next meal,” Thyel said.
“Dragons don’t eat humans,” Fane said in protest. “At least, they haven’t in a long time.”
“What makes you think she’s hungry?” Skye asked.
“She looks weak,” Tamara said. “Why else would she have tumbled down like that? If we find something to feed her, maybe she’ll leave us be.”
She looked around desperate to find the green dragon something to eat.
“Tamara’s right,” Jarrod said. “Get her more food.”
“How?” Skye asked. “And what about you, Jarrod? We can’t leave you here, helpless. What if she decides you’d make a tasty meal, lying here all bloody?”
“I’ll stay,” Thyel said. “My mother was a midwife, I know how to set his arm.” Already squatted, he tore off strips of cloth from Jarrod’s robe and tied it above the wound.
The bleeding did seem to slow down after that move.
“The rest of you, find that dragon some food,” Thyel ordered.
10
Tamara was impressed with Thyel’s take charge attitude. He seemed confident he knew what to do about Jarrod’s injury. As for the green dragon, she suspected berries and fruit would not satisfy her intense hunger.
“How do we capture an animal big enough to satisfy that dragon?” Skye asked. “The elk she gobbled up didn’t seem to be enough.”
“Those men who ran by us,” Fane said, absently, his eyes still focused on the dragon, “they looked like hunters.”
Tamara turned Fane to face them. “So?”
“They weren’t carrying any weapons, but that could be because they dropped them in their fright.”
“Yes! A weapon would help us bring down another elk,” Tamara agreed, her mind racing at the possibilities. Her sword was good for close work, not long-distance hunting.
“Go.” Jarrod’s eyes squinted with great pain. “Find what will appease that beast. Quickly.”
“Skye,” Tamara said, “use your talent to help us locate a suitable weapon.”
“Of course!” She held up her hand and released a ball of Light. It flew between the trees in the direction the hunters had come from. She set Falcon’s Tome beside Jarrod and raced after her Light ball.
Magic and Shadows: A Collection of YA Fantasy and Paranormal Romances Page 156