by Joseph Lallo
A hot meal it was, and a good one. It featured things like fresh bread, wine, mugs, and plates. Things Myranda had forgotten were supposed to be a part of meal times. She ate heartily, savoring the flavors as much as she could. It might be the last real meal she would have for some time. As she ate, she and Sandra spoke.
“You . . . you work with the Red Shadow,” she said.
“I do,” Myranda admitted.
“Then you are criminals,” Sandra said gravely.
“We do what we have to do. If that makes us criminals, so be it,” Myranda said.
“But he is a killer. Knowing what little I do about you, I cannot imagine you would willingly help him,” Sandra said.
“I cannot speak for what he has done in the past, but he is dedicated to the task at hand,” Myranda explained.
Sandra stared at her, considering the answer. Myranda took a final bite of the cobbler that had attracted Ivy to begin with. To taste such a divine concoction at a time like this made her feel like a prisoner eating her last meal.
“Where will you go now?” she asked.
“I've two . . . three more friends that I need to reunite with,” Myranda said, Deacon flitting across her mind. “I will find them.”
“I . . . I cannot believe that I am saying this . . . but I wish you the best. I hope that you find your way to a solution that will spare our soil any more blood, and I hope that you find it soon. The north needs people like you. You have compassion. You are a healer. And the country is suffering,” Sandra said.
“I shall do my best,” Myranda said, standing up from the meal.
Sandra stood.
“Before you go, at least take a cloak,” Sandra insisted.
She walked over to the hook upon which it hung. A cloud of dust billowed into the air as she shook it clean.
“You've done so much already, I couldn't-” Myranda replied.
“It belongs to my younger brother. He left for the front a few months ago. If giving it to you means he comes home to find it missing, I don't think I will mind the scolding,” she said earnestly.
Myranda took the garment from her and the two shared a hug. Sandra turned to Ivy.
“Goodbye, Ivy. I am sorry for how I treated you,” she said, opening her arms.
Ivy pounced upon her, offering up a more enthusiastic hug than Sandra had been expecting.
“It's okay. You didn't know any better. Sorry for scaring you,” the playful creature said.
“It is all right,” Sandra assured her.
With that, the two heroes set out, Sandra by their side. When they reached the doors, their host stopped them.
“Myranda,” Sandra said. “If they come to me, I will tell them you were here. I won't keep this a secret.”
“Do what you think is right. That is all we are doing,” Myranda replied.
Sandra pulled the doors open. Myn stood, her eyes filling with excitement and relief as her two friends appeared. Myranda offered a friendly scratch on the head. Myn offered a raspy tongue on the cheek in return. The dragon looked to Sandra with a vague look of recognition followed by a gaze that instantly made it clear to the farmer that she should be holding another bag of potatoes. Ivy scrambled onto Myn's back.
“Are you sure you want to ride there? We will be flying again,” Myranda warned.
“I'll close my eyes. I don't want to be asleep if something happens,” Ivy replied, wrapping her arms tightly about the dragon's neck.
Myranda climbed atop Myn, taking her place just behind Ivy. Sandra stepped aside and held the doors open. A few powerful strides and one mighty leap later and the heroes were soaring into the crisp night air. In moments the massive form was nothing more than the quiet flap of leathery wings. A moment later, even that was gone. Sandra walked slowly back to her home. For the first time in months the veil of sadness was gone. For the first time in years she felt something else. Hope.
#
High above the frozen ground, Ivy was clutching Myn tightly enough to make even a dragon take notice. She was trembling, her breath coming in swift, terrified hisses and leaving in quiet whimpers. A blue aura struggled every few moments to flicker to life, but Ivy managed to push the fear deeper inside.
“Ivy, you need to calm down. Breathe slowly,” Myranda urged.
“I can't. I can't. How much longer? Say we're landing soon!” Ivy squealed in terror.
“We will be flying all night. I'm not certain where we are headed yet,” Myranda replied.
Ivy responded with a louder whimper and a flash of blue.
“Ivy. You are in no danger. Myn would never let you fall,” Myranda said.
The word 'fall' shook Ivy, and she clenched her eyes even tighter. This would not do. It was true what she'd said earlier. If something happened it was important she be awake, but to have her in abject terror would do no good at all.
“Ivy, do you trust me?” Myranda asked.
Ivy nodded stiffly.
“And do you trust Myn?”
She nodded again.
“Then open your eyes,” Myranda requested.
“But . . . “ Ivy objected.
“Ivy . . . it will be all right,” she said softly.
Ivy braced herself and fought her eyes open, momentarily letting the fear through to the surface. She was greeted first with nothing. Just a cold, black abyss all around her. The flare of blue began to fade. Slowly she gazed upward. The clouds were close. So close she felt as though she could touch them. The moon was nothing but a pale glow behind them. She looked down. Her head felt like it was spinning. It was the ground she was looking at, but she'd never imagined it would look like this. The fear fell far into the back of her mind, pushed aside by the very same sense of wonder and beauty that had struck Myranda on her first flight. She leaned aside to get a better look, then shifted quickly to see what the other side offered.
“It's . . . beautiful,” she whispered.
Her wide eyes darted all over the spectacle, eager to take in as much as she could. The fear was still there, but it was tempered by exhilaration and discovery into something different. Something new. She turned her eyes to the clouds.
“Can . . . can we go higher?” Ivy asked.
“Well, Myn?” Myranda asked with a smile.
The dragon angled herself toward the sky and started to climb. The clouds drew nearer, then suddenly the world vanished as they drifted inside. There was nothing but gray in all directions, and the tingle of suspended particles of ice danced across their skin. A few moments later Myn emerged from the top, trailing a few streamers of mist behind her. She may as well have traveled to another world. Below them the clouds stretched out as far as the eye could see, like a stormy gray sea with cresting waves frozen in place. Above was the sky. Not the dismal blanket with rare patches of starlight that Myranda knew as the sky, but the true sky. A field of stars, crystal clear and sparkling. Myranda had never looked upon a cloudless night sky, but she'd dreamed of it. Even her imagination paled in comparison to the jewel-studded eternity before her. And the moon. She'd thought she'd seen it before, but she was wrong. What she had seen could not be the same glorious, mottled ivory disc that hung overhead. It was like polished marble, and it gleamed with a brilliance that seemed to rival the sun.
Ivy's mouth hung open in awe, the dazzling sight sparkling in her eyes. Myranda was not blind to the beauty, but to Ivy it was so much more. Her keen eyes traced marvelous patterns on the moon's surface. Her mind, attuned to the finest nuances of art in all of its forms, was buzzing with inspiration. It was almost too much for her to bear.
“I never could have dreamed of anything so wonderful . . . “ Ivy managed in a hushed voice.
Myranda reluctantly closed her eyes. She had a job to do. Now that Ivy was calm, it was time to choose a direction. Soaring through the icy sky on the back of a dragon would not have been her first choice as a place to meditate, but it would do. Myn was gliding smoothly and easily, and but for the rushing wind, she could not have
asked for more tranquil surroundings. A night of proper rest and a decent meal had served her well. A staff in hand, even the D'karon one, was a help as well. She sifted over its enchantments one last time, hopeful of something that might help her find the others, and wary of something that might help the D'karon find her. Finding nothing she could identify as useful or dangerous, she set her mind to the task as she had before.
The cold air and howling wind slowly drifted away as her concentration deepened. The galaxy of stars above vanished and a duplicate seemed to appear below as the tiny burning embers of the souls of her people revealed themselves to her. Briefly she sought the others as she had before, but it soon proved itself fruitless. She reached into her memory, scouring her discovery of Ivy for clues. In the mind's eye the world was awash with a mild, warm glow. It was faint, but it was everywhere. Myranda had never been taught precisely what it was. Perhaps it was the spirit of the very world. Perhaps it was the energy of nature. Whatever it was, it was everywhere… Everywhere but where Ivy had been. She turned her gaze to the staff she held. It was dark, darker than its surroundings. So it was with everything that they touched. She changed her search, seeking not light but darkness, not fountains of life but barren voids. If the D'karon were hiding the Chosen, then she would find the residue of their treachery.
It didn't take long. A horrible darkness and soul searing chill seized her mind. She focused on it. It was far, but that word had come to mean very little once Myn had returned. Associating true distance to its strange counterpart in the astral plane was far from simple, but it was a task she'd been forced to become adept at. Slowly the indistinct destination resolved itself to a point on the map. They had their target.
“That way, Myn. More to the east,” she guided.
Ivy turned.
“Who did you find?” she asked.
“I don't know,” Myranda replied.
“I hope it is Lain . . . or Deacon. Anyone but Ether,” Ivy said, sneering at the offending name. “It is a good thing she wasn't around to meet Sandra. It would have been a disaster. I never would have heard the end of it, either.”
“You did take a big chance,” Myranda reminded her. “You should have stayed hidden.”
“I know it. But sometimes I see a house, or a city and . . . I don't know . . . I feel . . . wistful, I think is the word,” Ivy said.
Myranda thought back to the throne room.
“That human, back in the castle. Was she . . . “ Myranda began.
“She was,” Ivy replied.
“Then, should I call you . . . “ the wizard attempted.
“No,” Ivy shook her head slowly. “That isn't me. Not anymore. I might have been Aneriana once. That was a long time ago. She couldn't have done some of the things I did. She wouldn't have done some of the things I did. I'm Ivy now. For better or worse. I couldn't go back . . . even if I could.”
She furrowed her brow at the last cryptic line.
“Do you remember any of it now?” Myranda asked.
“Some of it. Some of it is very clear now. The last part. The rest is still a blur, except here and there,” she said sadly. As her fists clenched, she seemed suddenly frantic. “Uh, let’s talk about something else. Quick! When I think about that I think about him and when I think about him I start to feel that way again. The hate. I didn't like that. It wasn't the same as the others. Anger and fear are bad, but at least they throw me aside. I don't even remember it. When I felt the hate I was still there. I remember it. I just couldn't stop it . . . It was me. I don't think it would have let go if I hadn't touched that sword.”
Ivy paused to consider it, shuddering at the thought.
“You know, I don't think you told me about Myn yet. How did she get so big? And what happened to you? Did they get you too?” Ivy asked.
Myranda explained her own trials since they parted, and explained to the best of her ability what had happened to Myn. It should have been a quick tale, but Ivy pressed her for details relentlessly, eager for every last nuance. If Myranda didn't know any better, she would have sworn that she was imitating Deacon. After quite some time, when every last avenue of the ordeal had been explored, Ivy turned to Myn's wing, eagerly seeking a glimpse of the mark she'd failed to notice before.
“Is the mark big? I don't know how I could have missed it. I guess . . . “ Ivy began, stopping suddenly.
When she spoke again, it was with a steady, serious voice.
“Myranda. We're close to where we are heading, aren't we?” she asked with little doubt in her voice.
“Yes. How did you know?” Myranda asked.
“You'll hear it before you see it, I think,” Ivy said ominously.
Myranda listened closely. She heard the wind. Aside from that was the beat of Myn's wings. The dragon seemed to tense beneath her. Something had her on edge. She listened closer. The leathery flapping was different. It sounded as though . . . there was more than one pair of wings at work. Before long there was no doubt, something else was in the air with them.
“Where is it?” Myranda urged. Her knuckles were white around the stolen staff.
“There,” Ivy said, a finger indicating a vague form blotting out a patch of stars ahead. “And there . . . and there.”
The wizard trained her eyes on the darkness, searching her memory briefly for something that might cut a bit deeper though the pitch. It didn't make sense. The moon was nearly full. It was more than enough light. She should see the threat as plain as day.
“Do you think if I was to get afraid enough to change it would help at all?” Ivy asked, flickers of blue making their way through despite her best efforts.
“Anger would be better,” Myranda said, her eyes finally making out the full silhouettes of three dragoyles, each as big as the beast that had threatened them in the valley of the dead.
“Yeah, it p-probably would, but f-fear is all I've got to offer,” Ivy struggled to say.
“Stay calm, Ivy. We've got Myn. We can get through this,” Myranda assured her, scouring her mind for anything that might be effective against the behemoths.
“C-can't calm down. It's one thing to trust Myn to catch me if I fall, but what if she falls?! What if she gets hurt?!” Ivy raved.
“Just hold tight and don't think about it. I won't let them touch us,” Myranda said.
Briefly the wizard considered casting sleep upon her again. No. The task at hand was difficult enough without having to keep a helpless body from slipping off.
“I can't stop thinking about it! I can't do anything! You shouldn't have rescued me! You should have left me for last! I'm no good to you up here! All I am is another thing for you to worry about! The best thing I could do is . . . THAT'S IT!” Ivy said, a burst of yellow mixing with blue for a moment as she turned to Myranda. “Let me fall!”
“No! We will get through this together, I can't let . . . “ Myranda attempted to object.
“Myranda, listen! If I fall, I'll be afraid. I'll turn into whatever it is that I turn into when I am afraid. There'll be a lot of light and a lot of sound and then I'll wake up safe and sound, far away. That's how it always happens! It won't get rid of them, but it'll give you one less thing to worry about,” Ivy explained.
“It is too risky. We don't know what will . . . “ Myranda cried.
“Myranda, there's no time to argue. You have to trust me,” Ivy said.
The hulking forms were close. They would be upon the heroes in moments. Myranda could not bring herself to agree. It didn't matter. She didn't have the chance. Ivy hopped to her feet on Myn's back and ran a few steps along it, leaping in a graceful dive over the dragon's head.
“Don't catch me, Myn!” she piped in a crazed cry of mounting terror as she blurred past the beast's vision.
Myn dove to follow.
“No, Myn! She knows what she's doing,” Myranda said uncertainly.
With all of the will she could muster, she turned her eyes from the brilliant point of blue light disappearing through the clo
uds and faced the dragoyles. She could only see one well. It would be her first target. She waved the staff in a circle, stirring the wind with it. In moments she had a howling gale. It circled around them, growing in force and dragging up trails of mist. First they were thin streamers, then fat ribbons, and finally vast sheets of cloud. They whirled and mixed into a growing maelstrom. The dark creature fought against the wind, frost building to ice on its black hide. It wasn't enough. Myranda could hear the massive thing ripping though the wind. Now it was Myn's turn. She gave a powerful pump of her wings and lurched upward suddenly, placing her claws in the perfect position to strike. And strike she did. Stout, powerful talons came down with crushing force on the creature's head. As the dragoyle's momentum carried it past, Myn raked her fore claws along its back, lashing with her hind claws at its wings.
The roar of pain that burst from the thing's mouth was deafening. It faltered, disappearing into the clouds. Myranda recovered from the sudden shift and searched desperately for the second creature while still maintaining the intensity of their shield of wind. Before she could find it, the creature made its presence known. The massive dragoyle, easily triple Myn's size, collided from the side. The rocking blow all but threw Myranda free. As she clung for her life, the monster clutched Myn with massive claws. The brave dragon struggled, spouting flame that scattered uselessly in the wind.
Far below, Ivy plummeted earthward. The wind screamed in her ears as she tore through the clouds. She screamed at the top of her lungs. Fear burned her mind and fluttered in her chest, but it did not bite to her core. Blue sparks of intense aura danced in front of her eyes, but stopped just shy of consuming her. Deep inside, she knew that she would be safe. The fear would protect her. The intricate designs of the ground spiraled and grew slowly, filling her vision, stirring something in her mind. It began as surprise and built quickly to confusion. Where was the transformation? She brushed the concern mounting in her aside. There was no need to worry. The fear would save her. There was no need to worry . . .
The realization struck her like a lightning bolt. If there was no need to worry, then she wouldn't be frightened enough to change! She would be killed! The epiphany thrust the reality of the situation into the foreground once more, and a renewed terror carried her to the very brink of transition. Unfortunately, the familiar feeling of slipping away from the world brought with it the relief that she would indeed be safe, quickly banishing the fear. The fading aura made the rapidly approaching ground clear to her, surging the fear again, and again came the relief, extinguishing it. Her mind raced in ever tighter loops as the cycle of panic and calm grew faster.