by Lawrence, J.
Thaniel slipped through the flaps in the chain walls. The scaled path wound to the exact center of the top of the tower, stopping at the dais. It was carved in the same eye bending wind pattern as the rest of the huge chamber, but if everything else was nicely done, the dais was exquisite. If it wasn’t stone he would have sworn he was looking at a real whirlwind with a serving table perched on its head, as if the wind itself was offering up a sacrifice to the dra.
Thaniel glanced back at Elycia through the walls of heavy chain. For just the briefest of all instants he caught her watching him. Their eyes met briefly. There was no mistaking the hurt he saw there. His mind raced… going over the past few minutes in a desperate effort to reconstruct every instant of it.
Dread poured into his heart like a flood of rancidness. Had he wanted her to love him so badly that he imagined her wanting him? Was it possible that she stumbled closer to him, or had someone pushed her? Had she gripped his shoulders in an effort to push him away while someone shoved her into him? Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed her. Not like that. Not there in front of all the soldiers.
Before her eyes slid away, Thaniel sent every bit of apology he could to her then, and with a lump in his throat that was easily the size of his heart, he turned to face his fate.
Step by agonizing step, he made his way along the scaled path and started up the dais, his feet feeling like dead weights. Finally, he stood at the top.
Nothing happened.
“Caller.” Lisella Ontar stood close to the wall of chain. “Look at her.” There wasn’t any doubt who she was talking about. “Do you love her?”
How could she ask that after what she had done to him? Elycia’s hair hung over her face as she stared straight down. There wasn’t any chance he would be able to get past today.
“Leave her alone. I’ll do whatever you want. Just…”
At a nod from Lisella Ontar, Irkhir, with a fist full of her blonde hair, pulled Elycia’s head up where he could see her. Tears streamed down her face.
“I said I’ll do whatever you want! Get your hands off her!” He screamed.
“Call the dra! Or the girl gets a new kiss.” Lisella Ontar, her chest heaving in and out with every word, yelled over the wind. Her cold eyes never revealed whether she cared one bit either way.
“I’m here. I’m on your dais. Nothing is happening.” He raged at her, Ontar or not. Irkhir had explained it all well enough. Once the Ontar finished her speech, all he had to do was get on the dais. Then wait for the dra and get out of there before it ate him, or not, his choice. Thaniel was on the dais. He’d done his part. They couldn’t hold her responsible if the whole thing was a farce. Could they? Well, would they?
Keriim grinned and took a step closer to Elycia.
“Wait.” His eyes locked on Lisella Ontar’s. “Please. What do you want me to do? Tell me,” Thaniel pleaded as Keriim took another step closer. “What do I do now?”
“Get on your hands and knees.” Irkhir said.
“Anything, just don’t hurt her…” Thaniel dropped to his knees, his hands pleading in supplication.
“Almost there.” Lisella Ontar gestured at his hands.
Thaniel bent down. The instant his fingertips touched the flat surface it burst into blinding cerulean light. Lisella stumbled backwards, falling unceremoniously on her backside. The entire chamber came alive as all nine arches that spanned the spiraling path up the tower blazed like blue lightning.
Wind began to churn from nowhere, picking up the bits of snow and ice all the pounding had shaken loose. The flying debris caught the azure light, bathing the scene in an eerie swirling glow.
“Don’t move.” Irkhir’s voice cut through the fog in his head.
Thaniel stared at the blazing azure beneath him. Instinct screamed for him to run. Run faster than ever before, because something was coming. He couldn’t believe it yet at the same time he knew that it was real. The realization filled his lungs to bursting and sent blood racing hot through his veins, preparing him to flee. He wanted to run. Everything in him told him to flee. But there Elycia was, face lifted higher on one side as he held her hair. She was trembling, eyes pleading and full of tears.
“Did I do it?” Thaniel called out, ready to be out of there that instant. He wanted to hold her. To let her know she was going to be alright. No one was going to hurt her as long as he was alive. No one.
“This is it! Keep your wits boy!” Irkhir held Elycia in one hand and his axe in the other. “You can do this.”
“Leave her alone.” Thaniel raged. “I already did everything you wanted.”
“The dra must be all the way through the opening before you run for the hole.” Irkhir pointed to the small flaps in the chain.
Thaniel didn’t understand how he knew but he didn’t have any doubt there was a dra coming. A real living dra. The thought that hit him then sent a shiver down his spine. This dais he was kneeling on looked a whole lot like a monster’s dinner table. Thaniel looked up at the hole in the ceiling and back to his little exit. How was he supposed to make it out that small flap in the chain before a dra, flying through the massive hole directly over his head, got him?
“You’re crazy. I’m not waiting. It’s coming.” Thaniel’s glare of defiance only bounced off the warrior. Reflexively, Thaniel went to wipe a bead of sweat, that had appeared regardless of the bitter cold air that poured in from outside, off the tip of his nose. His hand didn’t move. He pulled at it a second time, knowing before he did it that the dais, just like the evil dra carving that got him into this mess, had him. Thaniel pulled up until his shoulders popped with the effort.
“Yes, you are.” At least Irkhir didn’t smile when he said it.
But Keriim did.
Chapter 12
Chain Flap
The dais blazed brighter than the sun, making it feel a whole lot more like day than night.
Thaniel’s eyes darted to Elycia. That kiss would definitely be their last. The profound sense of loss he felt enveloped every corner of his being, overshadowing even his obvious fear of what he knew was headed his way.
Thaniel felt something shift deep inside him, as if his guts suddenly lost their moorings. The arches… called him… like a growing chorus of wind. He was instantly drunk with their breathy voice. Then the room bloomed into life like nothing he had ever seen before. Starting at the first arch far below, azure streaks of wind burst into life and spiraled up the tower, slipping through the other arches in an upward spiral dance.
Thaniel couldn’t take his eyes off of them.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” He heard himself call out to no one in particular.
The breeze whisked all the way to the top of the tower, encircling him in a whirlwind of bright cerulean. Thaniel’s clothes whipped as they curled about him. He reached his hands out, stretching his fingers wide, as the streaks of air slipped by.
Thaniel laughed. They all looked at him as if he were mad. Didn’t they see what he did? Beneath his feet their precious dais radiated cerulean light like a blue sun. Couldn’t they feel the raw power keening from it as it screamed its call into the sky?
Thaniel knew they should be happy. He couldn’t remember exactly what was supposed to happen next but somehow he knew it was doing what they wanted. What was it calling again? Fear rippled through him. A memory of something elusive... He shook his head. He couldn’t quite recall what the big deal was.
The beautiful strands of azure wind were picking up speed. He tried to steady himself but it really was no use. They were too strong. So he laid on the dais staring at the wind and laughed as the waves of shining power ripped through him and tore into the sky.
“Go faster.” He heard himself urge.
To Thaniel’s utter amazement and delight, they did!
Thaniel felt the creature cut through the vicious Anwarian Range wind with ease. It flew low and fast, following a cleft up the side of the mountain. Before the soldier assigned with spotting the beast dove through
the opening, Thaniel knew it was already near. The man barely made it in and out of the chain flap before a shimmering blur swiped across the opening with a flapping sound. A screech sliced through the howl of the wind.
Every knee in the chamber flinched.
A head snapped into view over the edge of the hole, instantly catching reflections of the glowing dais below. Scales stretched tight over cranial ridges that framed in two bright blue eyes. It had slits for nostrils that were set on either side of a jaw full of glittering teeth. The bright cerulean light revealed rippling muscles, powerful wings, and razor sharp talons as it deftly dropped through the hole and landed beside the dais. It was both grotesque and exquisitely beautiful at the same time.
A flash of wing struck him full in the face and Thaniel saw bright blackness explode before his eyes. He knew he was supposed to run. He needed to run. He had to get away. Yet he knew he couldn’t. He felt that blow everywhere.
Elycia’s scream brought him back.
Thaniel’s eyes popped open and immediately locked on the dra. Strangely he noticed that the dra wasn’t nearly as big as he thought one should be. While standing on its hind legs, its cranial ridges, bony arching plates that resembled jutting cliffs, wouldn’t even reach his shoulders. Thaniel shuddered as in a flap of movement it drew its wings in. Forelimbs that at first looked as if they were too small to use before, now slung low from powerful shoulder sockets. Talons clicked as the creature flexed the limbs. It craned its neck toward him and screeched, never taking its eyes, bottomless blue orbs that embodied the chamber of wind, off him as it advanced. It was between him and the only opening in the chain wall.
If he moved one muscle Thaniel knew he was dead. It was incredibly fast and those flexing talons resembled long curved daggers. He had no doubt as to what the creature used them for…
Step by step it crept closer, until finally it walked right up the steps of the dais, its talons scraping on the smooth stone. Then in one fluid motion it leaped into the air and landed with a talon on either side of his waist. Below, the air still moaned through the arches. The creature cocked its head at an angle before it stretched out its neck and let out a sound that was half screech and purr.
Thaniel felt the dais shudder beneath him with a power that made the earlier maelstrom seem like a gentle summer breeze. The dra arched its head back, threw open its wings and crooned as the azure wind that had been swirling through the room burst into blinding speed. It was a terror of wind, the very fingers of the sky, which seemed to caress the beast before they clenched into a furious fist that struck the heavens above with untold force.
Thaniel realized that he was not only smiling. He was beaming like an idiot. An idiot whose heart leapt with pure joy.
Then with a resounding thrum the heavy iron grate slammed into place, sealing the dra away from the sky. The sound of Keriim’s laughter wafted through the chamber.
For the briefest of moments its bony head swiveled back, big blue orbs fastening on Thaniel’s eyes. She launched into the sky in what was both a leap and swoop of powerful wings, throwing the bright cerulean fingers curling away from her. Soldiers instinctively stumbled back, putting weapons between themselves and the beast as she slammed into the chain mail wall. With the ferocity of a wild animal she tore at the chain, actually loosening the moorings high above.
It wouldn’t hold for long.
Irkhir, gesturing from the chain flap, caught his attention. With the dais still raging beneath him and the dra slamming itself into the chain walls, Thaniel saw his chance. With one glancing blow the dra had knocked the strength right out of him. He was as wobbly as a new born calf. At first, he barely found the strength to crawl to his knees.
Thaniel glanced up over his shoulder. The beast had discovered the moorings and was clawing at them with everything she had. Bits of stone tore free and launched into the maelstrom. Irkhir batted aside Hobb, the blacksmith, with a backhand that sent the big man tumbling. The leader of the First had his hand on the lever that would draw the chain down over the dais. If he was still inside when that chain constricted, he would be stuck in a very small space with a very angry creature. Over Irkhir’s shoulder, Keriim’s smile widened.
Elycia…
Thaniel summoned every reserve of strength he had left in a desperate effort to move. He rolled off the dais, hitting the stone floor with his legs already churning for purchase. Behind him, he could feel the dra moving fast. Ahead of him he could see Irkhir pulling the lever.
Thaniel’s vision narrowed, eclipsing everything but the chain flap.
He dove.
Chapter 13
Bitter Leaf
Lars Telazno rubbed his stomach, stretched, and took a step back away from the fire ring. He pulled out his pipe. Between himself and Gabril, they had managed rabbit stew and roasted pheasant. Lars peppered the stew with some local roots he found, and spiced it lightly with some herbs he kept in his pack. At his age a man should eat well, no matter where he was. Now a woody smell of roasting pine nuts wafted into the chilled air, telling him they were just about done.
“Wish there were turkey in these hills. I hate pheasant.” Gabril grumbled but still sucked the steaming meat off the bone with fervor.
“Couldn’t tell from where I’m standing.” Lars Telazno smiled at his much younger protector, watching the Circle eat the bird like a fat man at pudding. He had been eating like that for twenty years and there still wasn’t a soft spot on the hardened warrior. Of course it had a lot to do with the time he spent every morning whirling those two heavy swords of his. The whistling of those things had awakened him more times than he could count.
It was just like Gabril to name the mountainous region of Anwar as hills, like they were nothing more than back country woods just outside of town. From rocky coast to rocky coast the Anwar was a vast frozen mountain range. Littered with the bones of men that underestimated it, victims of glacial temperatures, wolves, or dagger toothed cats, it was one of the most dangerous places in all of Arth.
Lars Telazno plucked a flaming twig from the fire and used it to puff his longpipe into life. Kirkland tobacco was his favorite and he didn’t have much more than a few bowls left. Savoring the moment, he brought the sugar maple pipe to just the right heat. His mouth twisted at the memory of the local leaf he found in the last three trading posts they stopped at. The stuff was so bitter that he wondered if he’d rather smoke his boots first. They were done in the region and imagined they would be able to find a decent merchant in…
Trailing little arcs of blue smoke before it stuck bowl first in the snow with a sharp hiss, his treasured pipe fell from his open mouth.
Lars Telazno never felt his own knees buckle.
He only faintly registered a blur of movement before Gabril’s iron grip bit into his arm, steadying him before he fell into the snow. His vision had instantly faded into a whirl of snowy white, evergreen, and the dark black of the night sky. Instinctively Lars Telazno extended his senses, and dove into the Jen’Ghon, his mind flowing through the currents of azure wind that were always available to him. He reached out in all directions, searching for the disturbance that had rocked him.
He knew exactly what was happening. Every minute detail of it. Yet it took a moment to filter through his mind. For a fleeting instant he wondered if age had finally taken its toll and he had finally gone senile. It was impossible after all. The Jen’Ghon, translated air current in ancient, had been wielded with incredible force. No organization or skill to it, just an explosion of raw power. He felt the skies high above shift, giving way to an unprecedented avalanche of wind shear. It shot from one point, high in the Anwarian reaches, straight into the sky and outward from there.
Lars shuddered inside. The Anwarian Range winds were the stabilizing force for the weather of the civilized world. They had blown east for as long as the weather had been recorded in the libraries of Di’Ghon. Now, they did not. It was as if a wall of expanding air marched out from one point, forcing the
mighty trade winds aside.
In the halls of Di’Ghon, Lars Telazno, like all members of the Order, learned how to manipulate the ghons he was inborn with. Like the rest of his guild, he could rearrange air, making it do what he willed. But that didn’t mean that he should. He couldn’t imagine how many inborns and how much meldstone it would take to wield so much of the Jen’Ghon, but whoever they were, they used it blindly with no thought to what they were doing. As blackness overwhelmed him Lars was certain of one thing. The damage done to the heavens could not be undone.
Whoever they were, they had broken one of Di’Ghon’s oldest of laws. The Law of Balance. Nature was balanced on the edge of a knife as it was. Only the Creator could possibly understand the complexity of it. Changing it without any thought of how it was to be set right after was insanity at best. Evil at the worst.
Lars’ eyes popped open at the smell of strong cinnamon. Gabril had him lying on a bed of pine needles with his head propped up on a wadded wool blanket. Lars wondered how long he had been out. The man had had enough time to brew cinnamon tea.
“What the hells happened?” Gabril asked, as he helped Lars up with an arm that could have been carved from one of the mighty evergreens that towered above him. Concern was etched in the corners of his protector’s eyes.
“I’m not sure.” Lars rubbed at his eye sockets, trying to shield them from the gray light of morning.
Morning?
He took the metal cup Gabril handed him and inhaled the cinnamon, letting the strong scent bring him back fully.
“Tell me again how I got stuck with you?” Gabril chided and shook his head in mock self pity as he spat into the flames.
“I don’t know.” He lied. At the time Gabril and he were the best men for a nasty piece of work that only the two were suited for. They had completed the task, as distasteful as it was, and were thanked for it by being sent to the most remote portions of Arth, where the self righteous Di’Madierin in the great halls of Di’Ghon wouldn’t have to look at them, and be reminded of the uncomfortable truth. “But I might have need of your skills again.” Lars glanced at Gabril’s two sword hilts protruding from the double scabbard across his back.