by Sam Ferguson
Whatever it was, he needed to get home. He tried to cast a portal to Viverandon, but nothing happened. He hadn’t the energy left to cast a spell to travel that far. Njar slipped down to his knees. His breath was slowing, becoming hard to pull in with each inhalation. He then thought to open a portal to the aspen wood. It was much closer than Viverandon and wouldn’t require as much energy.
He waved his hand and the flash of light rent the air in front of him. Through the portal, he could see Leatherback’s blue eye staring back at him. He reached out for the dragon, and then fell over onto his face.
A great pair of talons reached through the portal and slipped under Njar’s armpits, then they dragged the satyr through the portal just moments before it closed.
*****
Leatherback startled when a portal opened to the grove. Kyra had already returned to her room, and he did not expect her to return. At first, when he saw the woods through the portal, he thought perhaps another strange warrior would emerge, but he soon saw the truth of it. Njar was kneeling upon the ground, injured badly and weak. The satyr reached out his hand.
The dragon reached out to grab Njar, but not before the satyr fell over. He barely managed to pull him through before the portal closed. Njar moaned and winced as Leatherback set him down upon the grass. The dragon turned Njar onto his back and looked down into the wound. The flesh around the gash was beginning to turn black, and strange green ooze was forming at the edges.
Njar held up his hand toward Leatherback. “Your head,” Njar said weakly.
Leatherback bent down and touched his head to Njar’s hand.
A flash of light shot into Leatherback’s mind and he saw himself flying up and over the trees, out to the northwest across a large sea, and then landing upon an island where a large tree stood. Then he saw the tree open a doorway to a new area and the vision stopped. The dragon felt cold as the light pulled back into Njar’s hand. He knew what he had to do. He scooped the satyr up gently in his clutches and launched into the air with a mighty roar. He beat his wings harder than he had ever done before. He flew the same route he had seen in his vision, except the vision had been much, much faster. In reality, Leatherback flew through the night. They traveled hundreds of miles in that time, and didn’t land upon the island with the large tree until the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon.
They went deep into the forest and stopped at a grand oak tree. To say it was large would not begin to describe the gargantuan tree. The speckles and patches in its bark alone were bigger than the base of most oak tree trunks. The lowest branch looked to be six feet in diameter. By all accounts, the tree should not have been able to stand. A single leaf on the tree was half the size of a man.
Leatherback moved toward the tree and nudged Njar with his nose.
The satyr woke and smiled faintly when he saw the tree.
“This is Nonac, the gate to Viverandon,” Njar said weakly. “Go close to it.” The satyr played a tune on his pipes and then pressed his hand to the tree. The tree groaned and lifted itself from the ground, exposing massive roots and pulling dirt up. The taproot was actually two giant roots entwined together. Slowly, they untwisted and opened up to what appeared to be nothing more than the forest beyond.
Njar pointed to the opening. Leatherback had to crouch and squeeze through, but he was able to make it, though it was a tight fit.
Once beyond the tree, Leatherback turned around to watch Nonac resettle into the ground, but he saw no large oak tree. There were only pine trees behind him. He stopped and turned slowly, taking in the new scene around him. He stood in a vast meadow of wildflowers of every color. Butterflies and bees made their way from blossom to blossom and the sun hung high in the center of the sky.
Njar held his hand out and a strange, green mist rose up to his hand. The satyr breathed easier and then slid out from Leatherback’s clutches.
“Thank you, my friend,” Njar said as he tried to stand. He leaned heavily on his staff and winced in pain.
Leatherback looked beyond the meadow to see a line of pine trees. There was nothing else.
Njar pointed to the far side of the meadow. “We must go there. Help me, would you?” Njar asked.
Leatherback bent down and let Njar ride upon his back. As they reached the other side, Njar played his flute and a pair of pine trees lifted and pulled their boughs back to open the way through.
Beyond the wall of trees stood a small city. There were houses, walkways, and fruit trees all around. The houses stood in a very strange arrangement, unlike anything Leatherback had seen while flying over human cities. Some were close to the trees they had just passed, others far off, but there were never more than two or three in a single grouping. Some even stood in the middle of walkways, as if someone had built the house atop where a road should be. The apple trees and other fruit bearing trees stood in a similarly chaotic arrangement. There was no perfectly lined orchard. There were scattered groups of trees, or single trees standing wherever a seed fell and took root it seemed.
The grass was up to Leatherback’s ankles, and felt cool and soft as he walked, adding to the city’s warm charm. Leatherback grinned at a pair of satyr children who played near a house and stopped to look at him with mouths agape.
“No one here will harm you,” Njar said. “They all know I have been working with you.”
Leatherback continued to smile, undaunted by the gawking satyrs he passed as they made their way through the meandering town and out the other side toward a brook. The water coursed over and around large, smooth stones crashing and splashing gently between two banks of verdant grass dotted with red poppies and golden dandelions.
The satyr tapped on Leatherback and the dragon stopped walking. Njar put his pipes up to his lips. He blew three notes gently, holding the third for a few seconds before pulling the pipes away from his mouth.
The air shimmered and waved before them, like a heatwave rising from the ground. Then, a large stone tower formed in front of them. Gray, smooth stones came into view along with a door of dark ebony wood at the base of the tower. Ivy and morning glory crept up the stonework, adding life to the otherwise cold and foreboding structure.
The door opened, but there was no sign of light from within the tower.
“Take me to the door,” Njar said.
Leatherback did as he was told and then leaned down to allow Njar to slide off. The satyr hobbled in through the doorway and then turned to Leatherback.
“I need rest. When I am able, I will take you back to the grove.”
Leatherback looked behind him and then back to the satyr. “I could fly back,” the dragon said.
Njar cocked his head to the side. “You should rest too,” he said. “You have already made a long journey.”
Leatherback shook his head, but then the satyr pulled the panpipes up to his mouth and blew four notes. It was as if the music brought exhaustion upon the dragon. He felt his muscles go lax and he slowly slumped down to the ground and his eyes closed at the same time the ebony door of the tower was shut.
Chapter 10
Kyra didn’t sleep more than a couple of fitful hours as she tossed and turned all night long. She couldn’t open a portal to the grove either, for it would likely wake Linny. She thought about leaving the school grounds, but for some reason, Janik and Feberik were sitting in the hallway a short distance from her room.
They had arrived only a few minutes after Kyra had returned to her room after teleporting to the rock nest and jogging back to the academy. They had checked on her, and then told her not to leave the room, closed the door, and moved to take up positions in the hallway.
Even Janik wouldn’t tell her what was going on, and Cyrus was nowhere to be seen.
She was still awake, lying in bed, when the first rays of the sun broke through her window. She slipped her feet to the floor and looked outside. The day was born with a gray, drizzly rain that slowly fell upon the school. Kyra looked toward the woods and wondered what had become
of Njar.
The young sorceress went to her door and opened it. Not only were Feberik and Janik still in the hallway, they had been joined by Headmaster Herion. The old wizard was speaking to the other two, but dismissed them upon seeing Kyra open the door.
Feberik looked her way and offered her a smile, which she did not return. The large man frowned and hung his head as he turned to leave. Janik didn’t look at her as he turned to follow his brother.
Headmaster Herion, on the other hand, made his way for her room. His face was as serious as she had ever seen it before. His walk seemed invigorated by a sense of duty as well, for he strode toward her with determined, strong steps that echoed in the hallway.
“Go inside,” he called out.
Kyra didn’t move out of the way in time, and the old wizard turned her about with a hand on her shoulder and began directing her toward her bed as he entered the room somewhat forcefully.
Her mind began to race. Had he figured out that she and Kathair had seen the secret meeting? Did he know it was her who killed the wylkins? Or maybe the priests had told him something that had him upset. A firm hand pushed her onto her bed and then Headmaster Herion walked toward Linny. He shook her shoulder until she woke, and then instructed her to go to breakfast.
The young girl glanced to the headmaster, and then to Kyra. She almost shook her head as if to defy him, but the wizard pulled her up and gave her a slight shove toward the door.
“Move along,” Herion said roughly.
Kyra nodded to Linny to show she would be all right without her. Linny nodded back and then closed the door behind her.
Headmaster Herion fumed as he paced back and forth in front of her.
Kyra opened her mouth to try to head off the tongue-lashing she was surely about to receive. “Headmaster, if I could say something—”
Herion spun on her and held a finger out in front of his face, eyes wide and crazed looking. “You may not!” he shouted. “Do you have any idea what you have done?”
Kyra shook her head.
Headmaster Herion put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a parchment. He tossed it into Kyra’s lap and then pointed at it. “Open it!”
Kyra did as she was told and unfolded the letter.
“Go on, read it!” Herion said, fuming again as he began pacing anew.
Kyra looked down and read the words.
Esteemed Headmaster Herion,
It is with the greatest respect that I must inform you of an infiltration of dark magic and monsters in the Middle Kingdom. With a burdened heart, I am compelled to report to you that the Pools of Fate have made it known to me that there shall be an attack on Caspen Manor tonight. I should like to ask for your assistance in protecting Kyra, as she is a dear friend of mine and I should not like to see any harm befall her.
If possible, please send a few of your masters to Caspen Manor. I may need some help protecting the people there.
Yours in magic,
Njar
Kyra frowned and read the letter again. This is what the headmaster was furious about? She looked up to the man and shrugged. “This is a warning letter. He was trying to help.”
“Trying to help!” Herion shouted. “Do you have any idea who Njar is?”
Kyra nodded. “I know he leads a tribe of satyrs in Viverandon. He is a wizard, like you.”
Herion shook his head. “He is nothing like me, dear girl!” Herion spat. He snapped his fingers and a chair materialized in the room in front of where Kyra sat. “Have you never heard that satyrs are tricksters and fiends?” he asked. “Have you never read anything about those terrible creatures?”
Kyra scowled at the headmaster and shook her head. “He has been nothing but kind to me.”
“How did you meet him?” Headmaster Herion asked.
Kyra closed her mouth. She was not about to betray Njar. It was he who maintained the aspen wood to help Leatherback.
Headmaster Herion sat in the chair and leaned in close. “Does he know about your dragon?”
Again, Kyra said nothing.
“All right, be silent if you must, but you will listen.” Herion leaned back in his chair and folded his thin arms across his chest. “Njar is not who you think he is. I don’t care if he has been nice to you or not. He is a traitor, and an enemy of the Middle Kingdom.”
Kyra drew her brow in together and shook her head. “You’re wrong,” she said.
Herion shook his head slowly. “No, I am not. Did you know he once led an army against the Middle Kingdom? It was before King Mathias’ time on the throne, but it’s true. Njar led an army of four hundred satyrs against us. They had called a meeting to discuss balance in the Middle Kingdom, and the effects of Nagar’s Blight since the Battle of Hamath Valley. So, King Jarek, Mathias’ father, took a host of officers out to Kelboa, an island in the sea to the north west of here. Njar arrived by ship, accompanied by three of his so-called councilors. They went into the meeting place, a manor that no longer stands, and started the talks. By all accounts from the survivors, the king led a peaceful summit there, but Njar had betrayed him. Instead of coming to discuss a way to rid our lands of the curse, portals opened up in the manor and the satyr army came rushing in. They killed all but three men. A wizard named Dremathor, who was close to the king, escaped in the fury and was able to take down more than a quarter of the satyr army. He has never been heard from since, and it is widely believed that he later died from the wounds he suffered there. The other two survivors were a pair of young wizards. One you know as Cyrus, the same man who rescued your mother.”
Kyra’s eyes shot wide. Cyrus had never mentioned anything like that before, but then again, Kyra had never told him of Njar before either.
“Before you start to come up with more excuses, I should tell you that I was the third wizard,” Headmaster Herion said. “I was much younger then, but I was there and I remember it like it was yesterday. I can still smell the stench of blood and charred flesh.” Herion stood up and shook a fist at her. “I held my dying king in my arms and watched helplessly as his life ebbed out of him. Njar and thirty of his soldiers were able to escape death, but they had dealt our kingdom a major blow that day. One the likes of which I shall never forget.”
Kyra shook her head. “No, this must be a mistake. Njar wouldn’t do that. He is peaceful, and only fights if he must. There has to be something else.”
“I was there,” Headmaster Herion said. “You were not. If you don’t believe me, then you should talk with Cyrus.”
Kyra held her hands up and looked away. She needed time to think it through. This didn’t sound anything like the satyr she knew.
“You should know something else,” Herion said. “After I received this letter before dusk, I sent the priests out to find your dragon. He is gone.”
Kyra frowned and shook her head. Tears welled up in her eyes. “No, that can’t be right. He never leaves that area.”
Herion slapped his hands together. “If you have just handed a dragon to Njar, then we are all in a lot of trouble.”
Kyra stood up. “You’re wrong,” she said. “Njar is the one who helped me and Leatherback. He brought us to the aspen wood that shields Leatherback from Nagar’s Blight. His efforts must be working, because even the priests from Valtuu Temple say there is no taint to be found in Leatherback.”
“Kyra, you are dangerously close to expulsion!” Herion shouted.
“Then expel me!” Kyra yelled back, not giving an inch of ground. “You think I like living here and seeing Feberik? Go ahead and send me away. My father has already denounced me after my mother’s murder, so why should I care if you want to send me away too?” Kyra’s hands balled into fists and her eyes would have melted the wizard like wax had she had that kind of power.
Herion was about to say something else when the door burst open. He and Kyra looked to the doorway and saw Lady Arkyn, a beautiful blonde-haired half-elf.
“I have the report,” she said.
“Out w
ith it then,” Herion said.
Arkyn nodded. “There are four human casualties at Caspen Manor, all of them are Blacktongues.”
“Blacktongues?” Herion echoed. “I thought them extinct.”
Arkyn shook her head. “There is more. I found a small clearing with scorch marks all around and trees that had been splintered and burned. In the clearing, I found three ash piles. I collected samples.” Lady Arkyn moved her hand to a small leather pouch and produced three glass vials filled with gray ash.
Headmaster Herion took the glass vials and turned them over as he held them up in the sunlight. He whistled through his teeth as they sparkled and shimmered a strange, greasy purple color.
“They are the remains of wraiths,” Lady Arkyn said.
Herion nodded his agreement. “That they are.” He gave the vials back to her. “What of the servants, and Lord Caspen?”
Lady Arkyn shrugged. “None of them saw anything. One of the servants heard an explosion and later saw smoke rising from the forest, but no one saw any sign of an attack until I arrived and found the Blacktongue bodies.”
Kyra then asked, “Do Blacktongues wear tattoos across their bodies?”
Lady Arkyn nodded.
Kyra folded her arms and looked back to Headmaster Herion. “I opened a portal to the woods outside my old home. I would have walked through, against Njar’s orders for me to return here, but Leatherback pulled me away. As I was held in the air, a Blacktongue came through the portal and looked as though he wanted to kill me. Leatherback stomped on him and tossed him back through the portal. Now tell me, does that sound like Njar was trying to hurt us?”
“Njar?” Lady Arkyn asked. She turned to the headmaster. “You didn’t mention he was involved.”
Herion waved Arkyn off. “Did you see any sign of him?”
Lady Arkyn shook her head. “None,” she said.
“Speak of this to no one,” Herion told Lady Arkyn. She nodded her head and exited the room, closing the door after her.