by Steven Drake
“Take us to it,” he said firmly. Kesz nodded and scurried away, motioning them to follow.
“Jerris, are you sure?” Ceres asked skeptically.
“It worked with Violet. Once her old master was dead, she started following me. Maybe it will work for the wyvern as well. It’s worth a try.”
Without waiting for an answer, Jerris followed Kesz through the city to a spot outside the city walls. The wyvern was tethered to a six-foot-tall, one foot-thick, iron pole with a heavy iron chain. Green scales covered the body of the wyvern, giving it a smooth and shiny appearance. The creature’s snakelike body extended to what Jerris guessed to be about ten yards completely uncoiled. Unlike dragons, which had a pair of wings in addition to arms and legs, wyverns possessed only a set of rear legs, thick and muscular, with sharp eagle-like talons, each a foot long. The scales did not cover the wings, which were simply leathery sheets of skin strung between long thin fingers, a duller green than the rest. The head was like that of an oversized lizard, slenderer than the massive maws of the elder dragons, and lacking horns. This one had yellow eyes, though Jerris had heard that the eye color could range anywhere from orange to green.
This wyvern also had been saddled, a leather contraption firmly attached to the creature’s thick body just above the wings, somewhat like a horse’s saddle, but with stirrups farther up the neck. The sitting position on this creature looked to be quite different than a horse. Wild wyverns were common in the Red Mountains of Jerris’ homeland, and they were capable of lifting a fully-grown ox into the air. Killing wyverns had become a dangerous but lucrative occupation there. Jerris had never realized wyverns could be tamed until their encounter with Avirosa the Wraith.
The creature shrieked at their approach and lifted into the air, straining against its chain before falling back to the ground. Jerris kept a good distance away. He remembered Darien’s fight with Avirosa’s wyvern, and had a healthy respect for the striking range of the long serpentine head and neck of the beast.
“Jerris?” Ceres questioned again.
“Just give me a moment,” he said. Jerris gathered himself, focusing his magic on his own mind. He shut his eyes briefly, and then opened them, finding the eyes of the wyvern. He extended the spell to hold the beast as Darien had taught him. This however, felt completely different than anything he had attempted before.
With Violet, Jerris had felt a certain intelligence, a dangerous, predatory intelligence to be certain, but it had given Jerris the impression of an actual mind that had at least enough awareness to understand things like friend and enemy, companionship, loyalty. The wyvern was completely different. It felt cold, primal, an unthinking instinct that lashed out randomly and violently. Here there was no intellect, nothing but cold reptilian instinct, hunger, fear, thirst, and the most primitive desires. The creature’s mind lurched like a snake caught by the tail, violent, unfocused, and chaotic. It felt like trying to hold a tornado on the end of a string, but Jerris managed to hold the spell. Slowly, ever so slowly, the beast started to calm.
Jerris felt the bands of power that had bound the beast to Eldrik. This time at least, he would not have to destroy those. He knew nothing about forming enchantments on even ordinary objects, to say nothing of living creatures. His magical training had simply not advanced that far, and there wasn’t time anyway. Communicating with such a primitive mind seemed useless. He could not gain the loyalty of the wyvern as he had the bearcat. He had to establish some way to govern the creature, and he could think of only one way. It might be nearly as stupid as a stone, but the creature did understand fear. Jerris could feel that fear in its mind, close to the surface. If he could not gain its loyalty, he had to make it afraid. He pushed against the mind of the creature. In his mind, and in the mind of the creature, he grew larger and more threatening by pushing more magic into his spell. He might not be as large or strong as a wyvern, but he could call on immense magical energies. In terms of magic, he was a giant, and he had to make the wyvern see that. His magic made it real, at least to the beast. The sounds of the beast gradually increased in pitch, and changed from long wailing shrieks to short, staccato yelps.
Jerris took a step forward, and the wyvern retreated, still yelping, but giving ground, backing towards its pole. Jerris took another aggressive step forward, well within range of the beast now. He did not allow his mind to think of what might happen should the beast decide to attack. There had to be no doubt in his mind. Any loss of focus, any momentary break in concentration, any gaps in the wall of invincibility he was projecting, and the creature’s violent instincts would seize upon him in an instant. He moved forward painstakingly slowly. The yelps dropped in volume, then turned to shallow growls. He drew closer. The wyvern’s yellow slit eyes seemed to open wider. He was close enough to see his own reflection in the dull orbs. He regarded his own expression, blank and cold and terrifying. For a moment, his eyes tricked him, and he thought he saw Darien in the reflection rather than himself.
That one instant of confusion nearly ended him. The sudden shock broke his concentration and the beast reared and wailed at him. Jerris recovered and held the beast’s eyes even as it rose over him and spread its wings. He remained firm as a rock, immovable. Running would not have done any good now, not this close. Instead, he redoubled his power, expending still more magic, and growing larger again in the wyvern’s mind. The creature yelped once more and cowered against the ground. Jerris took a final step, then reached out and touched the creature’s forehead. The contact strengthened the magical connection, and allowed him to more fully feel the enchantments. He had no knowledge of what to do next, but he did know that when he charmed creatures, he usually kept the command as simple as possible, something like ‘follow’, or ‘run’. This time he needed something different, but the command need not be complicated. He focused all his mind and pushed all his magic into a single word in the wyvern’s mind, ‘obey’. Then he repeated it, ‘obey’.
The creature’s eyes changed slightly, becoming glassy and almost absent. It laid its long body on the ground and curled around its pole, where it lay placidly. Jerris held the spell a few more moments while he took a few slow steps backward. He released the spell, preparing himself for the wave of weakness he knew was coming.
The exhaustion hit him hard, but not so hard as he had expected. He took several deep gasps of breath, and felt the exertion of so much magic, though unlike when he had freed Violet, he did not feel ready to pass out on the spot. Perhaps breaking the enchantment of a living mage took more energy than simply dominating a creature already under enchantment by a mage who had died. He felt a pang of bitter regret as he wished he could ask Darien, but of course he never would get that explanation.
“Are you alright?” He heard Ceres call from behind him.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Jerris turned to see Ceres still standing where they had started, but with her bow drawn back and an arrow aimed at the wyvern’s head. She lowered her weapon and slowly relaxed the tension in the bowstring. Her expression was somewhere between awe and terror. Kesz, on the other hand, had advanced to just a few paces behind him. Apparently, the little dragon had more confidence in his ability than Ceres did, or perhaps he simply could see and understand the magic being used. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.” Ceres gaped at the statement.
“Very powerful magics, Kesz sees. Jerris is very strong, very strong,” Kesz added. “Kesz has no doubt Jerris will find Niaries.”
“Thank you Kesz,” Jerris said. “Don’t forget to help Violet.”
“Of course, of course.” The little dragon scurried off and disappeared behind a turn in the walls of the city.
Ceres finally walked closer to him. She knelt down and very tentatively extended a hand to touch the wyvern. She made contact with its scaly body just above the wing. “I suppose this type of magic does have its uses.”
“Well thank you, finally,” Jerris said. “Darien always told me that magic is just a tool. What matte
rs is how you use it.”
Jerris turned away and cracked a mischievous smile. That would be the closest Ceres Arloran would get to admitting she was wrong. It felt good, but only for a moment. He had won a small victory, but this was not the time for celebration. When Nia was safe in his arms, then he could enjoy his victory.
Chapter 12: Bonded
With the beast subdued, Jerris unchained the wyvern, then attempted to get into the saddle, a task that required several attempts that set him cursing each time. After perhaps fifteen minutes, Jerris finally figured out he had to sit leaning steeply forward, almost on his belly. Confusingly, there were no reins. Instead, a solid grip protruded from the saddle near his left hand, while the saddle had a conspicuous opening on the right sight, where the wyvern’s scaly hide was exposed. After a few moments thought, it dawned on Jerris that the wyvern had to be commanded entirely by means of domination magic, and without being able to make eye contact, Jerris would have to maintain contact with the beast through his right hand.
Ceres sat in a more upright orientation about a foot behind Jerris. She grasped a leather strap in each hand, already trembling. Jerris took his time, and placed his hand on the exposed patch of green scales. The wyvern responded to his presence, quietly submitting without any argument. Jerris pushed a single thought to the front of his mind, ‘up’. The wyvern reared up, and spread its wings, and with a single beat of its wings, lifted several feet into the air. It climbed quickly, and within a few seconds, Kilnar receded beneath them.
Jerris took a moment to relish the sensation of flying. He had flown several times before on the back of the elder dragon, Gransz, but only as a passenger. This time he was in control, guiding the wyvern with his own mind, sharing the thrilling experience of flying through the air upon powerful wings. The wyvern’s mind calmed noticeably as they rose high into the sky. The fear that had dominated the creature’s mind faded, still present, but not so overwhelming. Probably, the wyvern simply felt comfortable in its natural element high above the world. Experiencing the thrill of flight, Jerris could understand why.
Kilnar grew small beneath him, the buildings faded to just a cluster of shapes in an endless charcoal canvas. Jerris could see many miles into the distance. He first looked northeast, in the direction of Ashpyre, then to the west, where high white peaked mountains rose in the far distance, peaks barely visible from the ground, blurred and hidden by smoky haze. Now, high in the sky, they appeared crystal clear and white. Lastly, Jerris turned to the south, where the flat yellow of the Scouring Desert dominated most of the horizon, with the low range of the Scoured Hills ranging up in the far southeast.
Jerris’ first task was to find Geoffray. He did not want to confront the stubborn Marshal, but he had no other clue where to look. Jerris counted upon Geoffray’s sense of honor to prevent the man lying to him outright. Still, he prepared himself for anything. After all, someone had tried to kill him. Jerris chose a point on the southern horizon, and wordlessly commanded his mount. The wyvern let out a long shriek, then wheeled and sped off to the south.
Miles vanished beneath them, a distance that would take hours to walk or ride disappeared in a few minutes. Jerris scanned the plains for any sign of activity, and he soon found some, a few threads of wispy white smoke that led to a cluster of orange fires on the plane below. He commanded the wyvern to descend, and it did so, rather more rapidly than he had intended, breaking into a sharp dive. Jerris made another command to slow the beast. He felt the saddle vibrate slightly, and turned to see Ceres shaking like an autumn leaf in a winter wind. He chuckled to himself, and proceeded to descend at a gentler grade.
As he drew near the ground, he noticed activity in the camp. Guessing that they had seen him, he aimed the wyvern toward the outer perimeter of the camp so as to avoid an immediate confrontation. He hoped to avoid violence entirely, but if he had to do it to rescue Niarie, he would.
The wyvern touched down a dozen yards from the edge of camp. The camped shield knights were already prepared. A dozen men trained arrows at the wyvern as soon as it landed. Jerris prepared his magic, just in case they fired. Between his magic and the wyvern’s powerful wings, they could call forth a wall of wind to knock away any number of arrows. The archers held still, their bows drawn and ready, until one man held up a hand, a familiar figure with a patch over his left eye. Geoffray walked up rather casually, then stopped short.
“What is this? What do you want elf, and why do you have Eldrik’s wyvern?” Geoffray scowled. “You’d better have a good explanation for this.”
Jerris adopted his most serious expression. “Eldrik is dead. Someone killed him in his room. We think it was Nielas.” Geoffray’s scowl only deepened. “He tried to kill us too.” Ceres retrieved the darts from a pocket and tossed them down. Geoffray walked up slowly and picked them up. He scratched at his stubbly chin while he examined them. “He took Nia against her will. Tell us where he went.” Jerris tried to be as forceful as possible. Geoffray kept his face neutral, betraying no sign that he withheld information, but neither showing any particular emotion at Eldrik’s death.
“Why should I believe you? You could be lying. Nielas had no reason to kill Eldrik, but you have his wyvern. Why shouldn’t I believe you killed Eldrik? I have no reason to listen to these accusations. I have had enough dealings with elves for my lifetime.” Geoffray shook his head disdainfully. “The Star Blade belongs to the Golden Shield. The girl is under obligation to our order. You have no claim to either. I owe you nothing, but in the interest of avoiding unnecessary bloodshed, I will tell you she is not here. Now be on your way before I change my mind.” Jerris narrowed his eyes. Geoffray remained intractable, glaring out of his one good eye. He knew something.
At that point, Jerris patience ran out. “Damn you, you arrogant mule’s ass. She’s a person, not a piece of property for you to claim. She’s not your slave and neither am I. I’m not going to argue with you, and I don’t really care what you believe. I want to know where Nielas went, and I want to know now, or so help me I’ll drag your pathetic ass back to Kilnar and tell the dragons you’re behind all of this. They were not very happy about what happened to us!” It was no idle threat, either. Geoffray had confidently strode within a few yards, well within range of the wyvern’s claws. The beast could lift off the ground and pick Geoffray up in a single motion. Geoffray stared coldly at him, but said nothing, and stood his ground. “I know she’s not here. If she was, I could sense her mage aura. Where did Nielas take her?” Geoffray spat on the ground, and then slowly scratched his chin, not in any hurry to answer. Jerris readied the command in his mind, preparing to launch his attack if Geoffray so much as took a step away.
“He’s not here.” Another voice interrupted. While Jerris had been arguing with Geoffray, he had not noticed Oswald Olivier hobbling up behind.
“Oswald,” Geoffray growled. “Be silent.”
“No, my friend,” Oswald replied. “This has gone too far. If he’s killed Eldrik, we have to face the fact that we’ve been tricked.”
“What happened?” Jerris leaned forward. “Please tell me. I just want to know she’s safe.”
“Nielas was supposed to meet us here, with the girl,” Oswald said. “He said he could convince her to join us. He was supposed to meet us here by now.”
“And you believed that?” Jerris said dryly.
“Maybe we were naïve, but we need that weapon, as a symbol if nothing else. We just wanted to keep her safe, the same as you. We didn’t particularly like the idea that the only thing between our enemies and the Star Sword was one half-elf trained by a half mad Shade, no offense.”
Jerris bit back his anger and held his tongue. It was not an entirely invalid sentiment, but at the moment, it seemed a poor excuse.
“He set a trap and tried to kill us. Did you know about that?”
“Absolutely not. We sent several men to help manage that bearcat and fake the trail, but that was all. He insisted on leaving his own men to spr
ing the trap. He said he was going to drug you and tie you up for a few hours, so you couldn’t interfere.” Oswald looked at the ground. “I didn’t like it, but…”
“But your commander overruled you,” Jerris said as he stared holes in Geoffray.
Oswald nodded slowly, then spoke again. “Nielas was supposed to meet us by evening today, but we have seen no sign of him, not so much as a track. If he came this way, we should have seen signs of his passing. I’m afraid he may have made his own plans.”
“He still has an hour or so,” Geoffray said. “We can’t be certain he betrayed us. He may have been delayed. I don’t trust anything they tell us. For all we know, they killed Eldrik and are now using us.”
“I just don’t believe that,” Oswald said. “They may be elves, but they have behaved honorably. We don’t have to be enemies. Heavens know we have enough of those.”
“Thank you,” Jerris nodded.
“If you find her, you’re obligated to bring her to us,” Geoffray declared. “If you don’t, then the next time we meet, it will be as enemies.”
Jerris stared down, his eyes wide in disbelief. How stubborn could one man be, and how could he be given command of anything? Were these people really any better than who they fought against? Darien had said often enough there wasn’t much difference between the Demon King and the men who led the Golden Shield. Perhaps he was right, just different sets of powerful men fighting to rule over the weak. Jerris resolved that if he ever became king of anything, he would be different. He placed his hand on the wyvern’s scaly hide, and with a thought, commanded the creature rise into the sky.
“Good luck,” Oswald yelled, his words nearly drowned out by the rush of wind.
The camp disappeared quickly beneath them, and none too soon. Jerris wanted nothing more to do with Geoffray Leonhardt. For a few minutes, they hovered in the sky above the camp. Jerris tried to decide where he should go next. He had hoped for some clue, but had gotten nothing. Not so much as a suggestion. Nielas could have gone anywhere. He lowered his head and shut his eyes, wracking his brain, trying to think of something besides flying randomly across the plains. Nielas was a day ahead, so he couldn’t have gotten too far. Should they simply begin a standard search pattern and hope that their advantage of flight would allow them to cover the vast area fast enough? What if he missed them? What if Nielas traveled by night and took cover during the day? Should he ask the Ebonscale to help search? Jerris set the wyvern to circling in the sky while he tried to think of something. He was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder.