Ilfedo glanced at the Megatrath. Vectra’s eyes were closed, and her sides rose in steady breathing.
“The Megatrath will not remember my visit,” the shepherd said.
Ilfedo sighed. He had been ready to fight this stranger, yet instead found himself facing the one man who had witnessed his vows to Dantress. “You did instruct me to give the key into the hands of God’s prophet, and now you are here,” he said. “But another joined me in the battle. He fought with honor and even took the key.” He then related all that had happened, beginning with his finding of the city of Dresdyn and ending with his escape from the white water creature, Cromlin.
The shepherd’s face relaxed and even smiled. “Then all is well, Ilfedo. The key is far beyond our enemies’ grasp, and you can count on your sword to be a help to you in the battles to come. As for this young woman whom you have saved, show her the path of righteousness and put her in the hands of those who can heal the wounds to her soul. You have done well—now stand aside.”
As the shepherd pointed the sword down the endless corridor, Ilfedo dragged Escentra beneath the arching doorway to one of the innumerable tomb chambers. He leaned her against the stones and strode back into the corridor. The crystals along the ceiling radiated in the flames of the sword.
A vortex of fire reopened the portal to the Hidden Realm, but the shepherd cut the sword’s blade across the portal, and a glowing ribbon trailed across the portal. The shepherd slashed the portal from top to bottom and closed his eyes as another ribbon formed. The portal flashed, and tendrils of green and black knifed through the flaming hole. The tendrils formed webbing through the portal, and a wave of heat roared out of it.
Ilfedo was thrown into a wall, and his vision blurred. He fell to the floor, then struggled to rise as another wave of heat struck. It felt as if his shoulders had blistered and his face swelled. The prophet fell beside him, and the portal, struggling to its last moments, crumpled like a piece of paper in the webs of energy.
The shepherd pressed the sword into Ilfedo’s hand as he leaned on his staff and stood. “All of the portals have been closed, and the key is safe,” he murmured. Then he walked through the heavy doors, and they thudded shut behind him.
The great white dragon descended from the blue sky. He stretched his beautiful wings of pure white and loomed before Dantress Starfire.
“Father, I have failed you! I waited in the Hidden Realm, waited for Ilfedo to come.” She hung her head and waited for his disappointment.
The dragon rumbled deep in his throat, a rumble that spread through his chest. “Speak, my Starfire. Tell me what transpired.”
She smote her fist against her hip, staring at the ground. “It was the witch. She reached the Hidden Realm before me. I stayed beside the entrance to the Tomb of the Ancients, but she waylaid me. I remember nothing except a glimpse of her face.” She waited for his frustration.
Instead he gazed at the sky and shook his head. “All is as it should be, my daughter. For Patient did meet Ilfedo in the Tomb of the Ancients. Ilfedo told him that another warrior met him in the Hidden Realm, a warrior who secured the Key of Living Fire and threw himself into a portal in order to keep it from the enemy.”
“Another warrior?” She shook her head. “How can we be certain this other individual means to keep it safe? What if Letrias sent him too?”
The dragon was silent for a long while, then he angled his bony head downward and said, “The warrior of whom Ilfedo spoke is none other than our beloved Specter. I believe he followed the traitorous Auron into the Hidden Realm. This means that one more traitor is dead, for I know Specter, and he would rather have remained in that place and died than let Auron live.”
A shiver ran up Starfire’s spine. She clapped her hands, as she would have done as a child. “Truly Xavion guards all that I hold dear! Nothing will harm my daughter so long as that warrior watches from the shadows. Praise be!”
The dragon sighed and shook its head in a slow, deliberate fashion. “I am afraid that is not the way things now stand. Specter will no longer hide in the shadows. His path is his own. If he were to return, it would be by his own choosing and his own doing.”
She felt the ground sinking beneath her and dropped to her knees. “Wh-where is he now? Oganna will need him in the days ahead. He cannot abandon her.” The world seemed to turn on a knife’s edge. “I must go to him. I must bring him back.”
The creature’s pink eyes roved the sky. “That, my dear child, is beyond your power. Only the Creator knows where Specter is now. For Specter took the key into one of the portals, and there is no way of knowing where it took him. Some lead to unknown parts of our world. Others lead to other worlds entirely.”
“Other worlds.” She looked up at the blue sky, picturing the stars night would bring. “You mean to say—he is up there?”
The dragon smiled and placed a gentle hand around her shoulders. “I believe so, my child. I believe so.”
“Then I will return to the Hidden Realm and determine which portal took him.”
The dragon shook his mighty head and angled his face downward to face her. “Thy heart is right, child, but your wisdom is lacking. The portals have been closed, sealed by the prophet who first created the Key of Living Fire.”
Realization fell upon her as a warm mist. It surrounded her, making her aware of the grand and deep plan that the prophets had so long ago formed. The plan that today they had brought to fruition. “Patient is the prophet in the legend,” she whispered. “He separated himself from the powers God gave him, creating an intelligence embodied in fire. Living Fire sprang from him—”
“Yes, my daughter, he did. But he only did that after he had used the power of Living Fire to imprison Valorian’s army in unending sleep. Patient sealed the Living Fire in the Hold in the citadel. Then he fashioned a key, a key that accessed the Hold so that if ever needed, the Living Fire could be called upon again. The sword that Ilfedo now wields once rested in the Hold of Living Fire. Patient crafted the sword as the weapon of Living Fire. The sword is the only such weapon, but if the key had fallen into an enemy’s hand the power of Living Fire would have left the sword.” Albino’s scales radiated warmth, and yellow buds formed in the grass around his feet. “Specter has removed the key from this world, and thus the Living Fire shall remain with the sword.”
Starfire looked up at him again. “Then I can at last rest in the knowledge that the Living Fire will remain with Ilfedo’s sword?”
The dragon nodded, yet his eyes were fixed on the sky as if his mind wandered through the stars in search of his faithful Specter.
Vectra lumbered through the blinding walls of windswept sand. On her back, Ilfedo held a shirt over his face as Escentra pressed into his back and tightened her hold around his chest. A few tree stumps were visible through the sand. A scattering of roots too. A branch flew out of the whipping sand and struck Vectra’s shoulder. The creature roared as the branch veered off her side and disappeared into the sand blowing behind her.
They passed the corner of a house’s foundation and descended into an extinct stream. Rising to the other side, the Megatrath shoved past a well cover. Ilfedo’s heart felt as if someone had tied a lead weight around it. Resgeria’s sands had progressed deeper into the Hemmed Land. This town used to be the northern outskirts of Bordelin. After the Megatrath Loos had demolished much of the town, the residents had rebuilt, only to be set back permanently by the forces of nature.
The Megatrath carried them through the storm and into the cool and shading trees of the Hemmed Land’s forests. Ilfedo beat the sand off his clothes, and Escentra coughed. He turned and realized that he had shaken his filth onto her young face. But she smiled, wiped her sleeve across her face, and brushed her fingers through her hair as Vectra rocked to a stop.
“Ilfedo,” the Megatrath rumbled, “how far should I carry you?”
He slid off her back and helped Escentra down. He strode around to face the creature and bowed. “I am gratefu
l that you have taken me this far. The rest we can travel on foot.” He pulled Seivar out from beneath his shirt, and the bird spread its white wings, and then flew into the treetops with a screech.
The wind howled south of them. He felt as if he could hear the forest moaning like a living thing. Vectra lumbered around behind his back, planting her powerful forearm in the grass beside him. Yimshi shone beams of light through the treetops, painting the forest floor in golden hues, but he knew that not far off the desert sands ate into the forests. As a ravenous plague of locusts, they swept deeper into his territory, ruining his peace.
Vectra shook her heavy head. “What will you do, Lord Ilfedo, if the storm does not abate?”
“I will seek a new land for my people, Megatrath. I will search for a place that they can call home for a thousand years.” He sighed and drew his sword. As the Living Fire clothed him, he gazed upon the magnificent blade, turning its crystalline facets side to side to reflect the sunlight. “When I was a young man, upon the death of my wife, a prophet foretold these times. He said that this land would no longer sustain my people, and I would need to search for another land. He said I should seek out a dragon called Venom-fier.
Dragon great, dragon fool
One wise, the other cruel
Venom-fier, to man a friend
The other may be his end.
Ilfedo was silent for a time. He could hear Dantress’s laughter in his mind, and he closed his eyes, savoring it. He felt her lips against his, and his eyes watered. He opened his eyes and gazed up at the mighty Megatrath. “It seems that everything good is either taken away or in another way lost to me.”
The creature rumbled agreement. “But do not despair, Ilfedo. You are wise and strong, and your daughter is the jewel on your crown of accomplishments. And I am your friend, always. Call upon me at any moment and you will be welcomed.” She lumbered southward, then turned and said, “The underground city of which you spoke—”
“Yes. The city of Dresdyn,” he said. For that moment his mind wandered down the dim streets of the Dewobin-lit city. He wondered what had happened since his departure. Tall, strong Bromstead—may the Creator be with them until Ilfedo could get back there. And he intended to go there soon.
She slowly nodded and gave a toothy grin. “You will need help when the time comes to bring those people to the surface. Call on me when you are ready for my assistance.” She turned toward the desert and raced through the trees, her feet landing with powerful thuds.
With the distant howl of the desert wind at his back, Ilfedo led Escentra beneath the tree boughs. He looked down at her and realized how thin she was. Wherever she’d been, perhaps under a wizard’s tutelage, nutrition hadn’t been high on the agenda. He would be the father she needed, if she’d have him.
She glanced around at the bright leaves, and her eyes half-closed as she smelled the air. Ilfedo imagined that Dantress was standing beside him. She would be staring at the young woman, nothing but compassion in her dark eyes, saying, “Ilfedo, let’s love her together.”
Knowing how she would have felt, his chest surged with resolution to bring this girl happiness. He could do this, especially if Oganna welcomed her with open arms.
“How far do we need to go before we come to your house?” Escentra’s voice carried the timidity of a mouse and the elegance of a sparrow.
“It is a good long walk, but if you enjoy the beauty of creation, as I do, the trip will be too short.” He smiled down at her and strode over a tree-laden hill, then plucked a blueberry from a nearby bush. He ate the sweet berry, and Escentra followed his example. Again he smiled, and he led her homeward, raising his arm as the Nuvitor glided through the trees.
The bird’s talons latched onto his arm, and it cooed in his ear. “It is good to be in the homeland, Master.”
When the long walk ended, he was beneath a canopy of stars, and he gazed upon his house nestled on the hilltop. The warm glow of lanterns filled the windows, and shadows passed before them. He opened the door, and Oganna ran into his arms as Seivar flew into the house. The bird collided with its mate, and the pair cuddled on the hearth before a ripping fire. Ombre, Honer, and Ganning stood in the kitchen, mugs in their raised hands as they toasted his arrival. The Warrioresses swept toward him, swallowing him in their embraces. Escentra turned to the door, but he put his arm around her shoulder and turned her toward his family and friends.
“Everyone, I want you to meet the newest addition to our family.” He waited as all eyes fell upon the dark-haired girl. “This is Escentra.” And he introduced her, one by one, to every individual in the room.
EPILOGUE
The rain pelted the clearing, rivulets flowing through the mud, linking with each other and running down the hillside. Ilfedo sat in a rocking chair on the stone patio in front of his house. The chair’s motion was gentle beneath him and the cider mug warm in his hand. He pulled his bearskin tighter around his shoulders, let it cocoon him so that his body heat did not escape into the cool afternoon air.
The sword of the dragon he’d left in his bedroom. He was glad to be free of it for a while. It reminded him that he should not be resting, that the people of Dresdyn had pledged themselves to him and he had failed them.
He sipped the hot cider. As the liquid seared his throat, he opened his mouth in a satisfied exhale. The fluid was too hot, but it felt good. The flash of pain placed him in the world of the living, affirmed that he was not in a nightmare. That all these years that had transformed him from a happy child into an orphan, and then widower, he had fought for those he loved and for the innocent. He had a purpose, a mission, that pulled him out of his grief.
A wall of water ran off the patio roof. It formed a vertical river that splashed around the patio, filling the drainage ditch. The ditch diverted the water along the side of the house and down the hill into the line of trees.
He sipped at the steaming cider and closed his eyes, listening to the rain.
“Father.” Oganna’s feet tiptoed toward him.
He opened his eyes, and her smile warmed his face with a smile of his own. “It is good to be home, my child.”
“It is so good to have you home.” She sat on the stone bench beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder.
He stopped rocking and stroked her hair. It was soft and clean. He touched his own hair, and judged his greasiness. When he looked down, he found her grinning at him. “What?”
“Aunt Evela swears you haven’t washed since you left home.”
“Oh, it hasn’t been that long,” he said. “I washed in an underground waterfall before leaving Resgeria.”
She laughed and stood, reaching her arm into the sheet of water falling off the roof. It washed over her arm, and she pulled it back. She shivered and hugged herself, gazing back at him. “Are you still planning a trip to Gwensin tomorrow?”
“Yes. The council must be informed of what I found in the Hidden Realm. I feel it only right to tell them everything. They are the voices of the people, and without my support their authority becomes inconsequential.”
She sat beside him and whispered in his ear. “I think you should bring Escentra with you. She seems to have lost all memory of anything prior to her meeting you. Not only that, I think she’s feeling kind of lost right now. But she admires you. The trip could be good for her.”
“Very well, my daughter.” He stared into his mug. Escentra was a wild card in his life. He had hoped to adopt her into the family, but somehow she didn’t seem to fit. She spoke amiably with everyone, and worked hard to earn her keep, but she was warm to no one. Perhaps new scenery would help her find a place in the Hemmed Land. “If she is so inclined, I will take her with me,” he said at last.
Oganna switched the subject. “And have you decided where the next search for a new homeland will begin?”
He sipped the warm cider and closed his eyes, refreshed by the raw taste. “I have discussed this with Ombre, Honer, and Ganning, as well as your aunts. I belie
ve an exploratory mission across the Sea of Serpents must be our next priority. We have scrolls that speak of lands south of the Resgerian desert. Unfortunately, the scrolls are suspect historical fiction. And since we cannot rely on their content, I have proposed a search eastward first. The wide-open sea should make it easy for a small crew to sail the Maiden Voyage along unknown coastlines and judge land before setting foot on it. Once a land is found, they can sail quickly back to the Hemmed Land. If the dragon Venom-fier lives beyond the sea, we will find him.”
“Venom-fier?”
He stood and heaved a long breath, staring through the rain as if he could see the pool of water in the western woods—as if he could see Dantress’s grave. Wanting to remember her in life, he had not ventured to that place for years. But he saw it in his mind as clearly as the day he buried her. The great white dragon, all muscle and sinew, rose before him.
“Venom-fier,” he said at last, “is a dragon that your grandfather told me to search for when the Hemmed Land could no longer contain my people. Back then I did not take the dragon’s word seriously. I stored it in the very back of my memory. But, my daughter, I have seen that his prophecy is coming true, and the time has come to earnestly search out a new land for our people.”
“Will you be going on this voyage, Father?”
He shook his head and put his arm around her shoulders, walking her back to the door. Rain continued to patter on the roof. “I have other things that require my immediate attention. For this mission I will be relying on a small band of capable men and women, people whom I can trust to focus on their mission and report back to me when they find something.”
“But, Father, whom will you send? I would volunteer myself, but I must return to Fort Gabel. Construction is progressing a bit slower than anticipated.”
Key of Living Fire (The Sword of the Dragon) Page 35