Trials of the Twiceborn (The Songreaver's Tale Book 6)

by Andrew Hunter

  She found Sister Mae waiting in the dormitory hall. The little physician frowned at the sight of Marla’s tousled hair and wrinkled robe.

  “This way, quickly!” Sister Mae said, waving Marla into one of the unoccupied sleeping chambers.

  Marla emerged a few minutes later, dressed in a crimson robe with her black hair neatly pulled back and held in place with a white jade comb. She squinted her eyes shut and grimaced as Sister Mae flicked droplets of floral-scented water at her face.

  “What’s that for?” Marla asked.

  “So you don’t smell like a butcher shop,” Mae said.

  “I smell like blood to you?” Marla asked.

  “Now you smell like a rose,” Mae said, sniffing to test the air, “Well... rose thorn maybe.”

  Marla smiled.

  “She is beautiful, Mae,” Brother Tye spoke from the garden doorway, “You have done well.”

  “You watch out for her, Tye!” Sister Mae scolded, “You don’t let that big bully frighten our baby girl!”

  Brother Tye smiled and lifted his hand toward Marla.

  Marla joined him at the garden door and walked beside him out toward the gate leading to the Emissary’s landing area. The morning sun proved warm enough that she could do without the coat.

  “Why red?” she asked, looking down at her crimson silk robe as she walked beside the white-robed monk.

  “It is the color that the Empress chose for your father to wear,” Brother Tye answered, “It is the color of change.”

  Marla’s mood darkened at the mention of her father. She felt guilty for the way she had treated him the night before, but could not quite bring herself to forgive him yet.

  “You are troubled?” Brother Tye said as they approached the foot of the mountain path, “Do you fear the Emissary?”

  “No,” Marla answered, “I just never thought that I would see my father alive, and, now that I have...”

  “He is not the idol that you once carved in remembrance of him,” the monk chuckled.

  Marla gave him a crooked smile. “Yes,” she said, “I guess that’s it.”

  “Would you prefer the idol or the man?” Tye asked.

  Marla sighed and looked up the path ahead. A streamer of gray smoke rose from beyond the ridge, and the scent of aromatic resin filled the air.

  Following her gaze, Brother Tye whispered, “The villagers have brought offerings to the Emissary.”

  “Do they worship dragons here?” Marla asked.

  Brother Tye shrugged. “They honor our kind,” he answered with a gentle smile, “There is a difference... though a very small difference.”

  Marla said nothing more as they climbed to the top of the path and came into view of the broad shelf of rock at the foot of the mountain and the great silver dragon that lay curled asleep there.

  A small fire smoldered nearby, sending up thick billows of sweet-scented smoke from the bundles of dried herbs that lay atop the coals. Stacks of boxes and brightly painted urns lay heaped around the fire, and a trio of tethered goats busied themselves by chewing the branches from their well-gnawed bush.

  “Bringer of Joyous Tidings!” Brother Tye called out in Draconic as he prostrated himself at the edge of the clearing, “We answer your summons with glad hearts.”

  Marla slowly lowered herself to one knee and bowed her head slightly, keeping her eyes on the slumbering dragon.

  The Emissary pulled his long snout from beneath the lustrous leather of his left wing and gave them a bleary-eyed squint.

  “The sun is already high, Tyegau,” the dragon hissed, “Were you too busied with chores to be bothered with my summons?”

  “The sun has yet to rise in Maizan,” Brother Tye countered, rising to his knees, “I did not wish to disturb your accustomed schedule.”

  The great silver dragon snorted a puff of blue-green flame.

  The three goats began to bleat in terror, nearly uprooting their bush in their attempt to flee the awakened dragon.

  The Emissary stood up. His long, spiny tail whipped around, and his wings boomed, sending swirls of smoke across the mountainside. He took five strides forward and scooped up the trio of goats in his silvery jaws, stripping branches from the bush as he ripped their tethers free.

  Marla winced at the awful crunching sound that silenced the bleats, but forced herself to watch as the dragon tilted back his neck and swallowed the hapless goats in a single gulp. The dragon shuddered with pleasure and then dipped his snout to the heap of urns. He turned his jaws sideways again and plucked up a mouthful of the containers. They shattered as he bit down, splashing a honey-colored wine from between his teeth.

  The pungent aroma of the wine filled the air as the dragon swung his head around to face Marla and the monk. He took another step forward, bringing his dripping jaws almost within arm’s reach of the vampire girl. He might have been smiling, but Marla found nothing reassuring in the sight of the dragon’s bared teeth.

  “You have crossed the sea from the lost lands, half-born,” the dragon rumbled, “Is this not true?”

  “Yes,” Marla answered in Draconic.

  The dragon snorted and his eyes flared with wrath.

  “You must address the Emissary by his title,” Brother Tye whispered.

  Marla felt her cheeks flush with anger, but she calmed herself as best she was able. “Which title should I use?” she asked, “He seems fond of many.”

  Brother Tye’s brows wrinkled in a warning look.

  “This simpleton will refer to me simply as Master,” the Emissary growled, “Such will suffice until it has been taught proper respect.”

  Marla’s eyes fell. She didn’t really trust herself to look at the dragon until she could keep her rage in check.

  “You crossed the sea, in defiance of the Empress’s warning to your people?” the Emissary demanded.

  Marla’s eyes flashed as she faced him again. “I knew nothing of any such warning!” she retorted. After a moment’s breath she remembered to add, “oh, Master of Messages.”

  The Emissary blinked and snarled, sending a vapor of blue-green heat blasting across Marla’s face and shoulders. “Your ignorance is cause enough to destroy you!” he hissed, “Yet your impudence, it seems, would demand it!”

  Little streamers of burnt hair smell wafted from Marla’s scorched robe, but she felt no discomfort from the heat of the dragon’s hissing breath. She returned his glare with a cold sneer of disdain.

  “Please, Emissary!” Brother Tye pleaded, “She is anomoke! We must show her the courtesy of...”

  “This creature has no protection here!” the dragon scoffed, lifting his head high above to look down at them in disgust, “The Empress has decreed that none may cross the sea uninvited! This one and its companions have defied the divine word of the Empress and must pay with their lives!”

  “They knew nothing of the Empress’s edict!” Brother Tye shouted, on his feet now as he lifted his hands imploringly.

  “That matters not!” the Emissary spat, lashing his tail behind him, “Even the deaf stones of the earth must obey the voice of Heaven’s Queen!”

  “Heaven’s Queen?” Marla laughed as she rose to her feet, “Is that what you call this empress?”

  “Bring these intruders to me at once!” the Emissary roared, “I would render my verdict now!”

  “Oh, Messenger of Heaven!” Tye cried, “The girl’s companions are spirits of the night! They cannot stand in the light of the sun!”

  The dragon narrowed his eyes as he looked at the desperate monk and then pulled his scaly lips back into a cruel sneer. “Then take this creature from my sight!” he rumbled, “Return with it and its companions when the sun has set. I will pass judgment upon them then.”

  “As you wish, Word of Justice,” Brother Tye gasped, pulling Marla swiftly away.

  “Enjoy this day, Half-born!” the dragon called after her as Tye hustled Marla back over the ridge, “It will be your last!”

  Marla took a deep
breath of the cool mountain air as the monk led her back to the monastery, returning the silver-haired man’s worried look with a confident smile.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Marla watched her father emerge from his chambers, just before sunset. He slid the paneled door closed behind him and had already begun to pull his eyeless red hood on over his head when he saw her standing there and froze.

  “Marla?” he said, his eyes wary now, trying to gauge her intent.

  “We don’t have much time, father,” she whispered as she crossed the hallway to him, “The Emissary has summoned us all to appear before him at sunset, but I need you to let me speak for us.”

  “Marla, you don’t know how to deal with these people,” Berrol said, shaking his head, “This is very dangerous! You have to trust me! I’ve dealt with this dragon before, and...”

  “No, father!” she insisted, “You don’t know everything that’s happened. I know what I have to do, and I need you to believe that I can handle this!”

  “How can I believe that?” he asked, “Marla... I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and your mother, but you have to understand why...”

  “I do understand!” she said, rushing forward to embrace him, “I do... It’s just that... none of that matters right now. You just have to trust that I’m here for a reason, a reason bigger than our family, and I have a job to do.”

  “A job?” he chuckled, taking her face between his warm hands and brushing a strand of dark hair from her eyes with his thumb, “What task have the old wyrms set my daughter to?”

  “No,” she laughed, “This is for me... This is for all of us.”

  “Oh, Marla,” Berrol sighed, hugging her to his chest, “In my mind you were still just a baby... seeing you now... It seems unreal, like a strange dream.”

  “It is a dream,” she whispered, blinking through her tears, “a dream made real... it all is.”

  “The Emissary is no dream,” he said, his voice going cold.

  “No,” Marla sniffed, “he’s just a sack full of old farts.”

  Berrol pushed her back and stared at her. “Did your mother teach you that?” he demanded.

  “No,” Marla giggled through her tears, “I learned that one from a ghoul.”

  Berrol’s eyes widened. “Things have changed back home,” he chuckled.

  “Do you trust me?” she asked, smiling up at her father.

  Berrol Veranu turned and looked toward the end of the hall where Brother Tye now stood. “How bad is it, Tye?” he asked.

  “Very bad,” the draconic monk answered sadly.

  “My daughter here has a plan,” Berrol said with a crooked smile, “Do you think we should trust her?”

  The silver-haired monk smiled and regarded Marla for a long moment before answering. “Shall we trust the sun to rise at dawn?” he asked.

  Berrol let out a ragged sigh and shook his head. “This place could use a little excitement,” he said, “All right, Marla, what do you have in mind?”

  “Brother Tye,” Marla asked, “does the Emissary know about Lump?”

  The monk shook his head. “I saw no reason to bring the troll to his attention,” he answered.

  “Will he be all right in the village, if we have to leave in a hurry?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Tye said, furrowing his brows.

  “Marla, I can’t go with you if you try to escape,” her father said, “I’m duty-bound to remain at the monastery until the Empress releases me from my service here.”

  “And the Emissary will order you hunted down if you flee,” Tye said, “There is no place you may hide that he will not find you.”

  “I’m not going to run or hide from him,” she scoffed, “Just get everybody together, and meet me at the Emissary’s terrace.

  Berrol put his hands on his daughter’s shoulders and looked at her. “You’re sure about this?” he asked her quietly.

  “Everything is about to change, father,” she said, “and I want you beside me when it does.”

  He nodded. “That is a place I’ve wanted to be for a very long time now,” he said.

  Marla hugged him again.

  *******

  “We couldn’t have breakfast first?” James yawned as he and the others neared the top of the ridge. All of Marla’s friends wore the silken robes that Brother Tye had provided them, save Nerrys who wore her white armor, cloak and sword. She rested the stump of her left wrist atop the pommel of her sword as she climbed the hill. The white vambrace covering her arm still bore the silvery-black scorch marks of the intense fire that had consumed her left hand. The rest of her armor gleamed an almost radiant white in the moonlight. Zizi flitted curiously in the air behind them as they followed the white-robed monk to the spot, just below the crest of the ridge, where Marla and her father waited for them.

  The Veranus wore their red silk robes, though Marla’s still bore the singed discoloration of the Emissary’s breath. She had refused Tye’s offer of a replacement robe. She did not care to let the Emissary know that he had inconvenienced her in any way. Her Bremmerite goggles she had tucked in the back of her silken belt.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Marla greeted them, “and I ask that, no matter what happens here tonight, don’t be afraid.”

  A burst of blue-green light flashed across the ridge behind her as the great silver dragon snorted out a laugh.

  Alyss’s eyes went wide, and her hand closed protectively over the little pendant that lay against the pale green silk of her collar. Zizi flew a bit higher to peek, curiously over the top of the ridge and then plummeted back to Alyss’s shoulder with a frightened meep.

  Claude’s crimson eyes blazed defiantly at the Arkadi girl’s side.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Marla insisted, “Just... trust me.”

  “We are with you,” Nerrys said.

  Marla nodded and turned to climb the last few yards to the crest of the ridge. She saw the icy blue eyes of the Emissary watching her as she came over the ridge, and then a wave of heat washed over her as the silver dragon roared out a long stream of teal-colored flame, incinerating the surrounding cedars in a great semi-circle around the terrace.

  When her eyes adjusted to the light, Marla saw that a towering wall of blue-green flame now ringed the rocky terrace all the way around, save for a narrow gap through which the vampires would have to pass. The flames crackled and leapt, almost thirty feet high at their lowest point, but showed no sign of burning out. They filled the mountainside with their unearthly light and cast ominous shadows across the face of the leering dragon that awaited them below.

  “Come forth and be judged!” the dragon rumbled in Draconic, his jaws still drooling verdant rivulets of liquid fire.

  Marla led her father and her friends down into the circle of fire, feeling the buffeting heat of the eerie flames as she passed through the narrow gap.

  “You were not summoned, Berrol Half-born!” the Emissary growled, turning his icy glare toward Marla’s father.

  “I will stand with my daughter and know her fate,” Berrol answered, bowing low, “if it may please the great Rider of Winds”

  The Emissary sneered and lashed his tail as he shifted his hips behind him. “Yes,” the dragon hissed, “it would please me to have you watch this.”

  Berrol nodded respectfully toward the dragon, and Marla breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She had not been prepared for the possibility that the Emissary might order her father to depart.

  “Before I pass judgment,” the dragon said, pausing to suck in a rattling breath, “I will know the means by which you crossed the sea, undetected.”

  Marla gave the dragon a grim smile.

  “You will answer me, half-born, if you do not wish to suffer needlessly!” the dragon seethed.

  “Yes, I will answer you, oh Master of Hot Winds,” Marla cried out, “but, first, you must prove yourself worthy of my instruction.”

  The Emissary’s eyes bulged, and jets of teal flame shot from his flared
nostrils. “KNEEL BEFORE ME!” the great dragon roared, and the draconic power of his voice cracked the stones beneath Marla’s feet.

  Marla sensed her father and her friends falling to their knees behind her, helpless to resist the dragon’s command. She herself, felt the power of his voice, hammering at her vampiric will. The girl she had once been would have been crushed beneath the weight of that voice, but she was not that girl anymore.

  “KNEEL!” the dragon roared hoarsely, blasting Marla’s face with hot vapors and fiery flecks of molten spittle.

  Silk began to smolder at Marla’s shoulder, where a gob of burning saliva caught in the seam of her robe, but she flicked it away with an annoyed grimace.

  The dragon’s eyes went wide again as he drew back his long neck, lifting his head high above the huddled group of vampires and the fiery-eyed girl that stood before them.

  “Marla?” Claude called out, his voice trembling with dragonfear.

  “Stand clear, monk!” the Emissary roared, “The hour of judgment has come for these abominations!” He began to draw in a long, rattling breath, and his jaws now glowed with a shimmering heat from within.

  “Yes!” Marla shouted, “I will pass judgment now!”

  The dragon lowered its head suddenly, parting its jaws to reveal the blue-hot furnace of its throat.

  “Shut it!” Marla roared in Gloaran her finger outstretched toward the dragon.

  The Emissary’s jaws snapped shut with a painfully loud clack. The monster snorted out billows of blue-green flame through his nostrils and through the tiny gaps between his interlaced fangs. His eyes bulged as he coughed repeatedly, clawing at his throat as he drew back, overcome with a series of racking convulsions.

  At last, he staggered wildly into his own ring of flames behind him and crashed into the smoldering ruin of a large cedar tree. The wall of fire surrounding the terrace quickly died away as the dragon floundered, smashing the hillside with his leathery wings and lashing large stones to rubble with his spiny tail. The cool glow of moonlight rushed in to fill the darkness again.

  “Take a breath,” Marla sighed, waving her hand dismissively.