“I’d not have wagered our survival,” Ellead said in a low voice. Silence settled over the forest. Only the fast breathing of the horses disturbed the peace.
Something was wrong.
Calli looked back beyond the grassy, muddy smear left by her and Duke. “Odd.”
The other two followed her eyes.
“No fire,” Fenwar said.
Calli nodded. “Exactly. How can that be?”
“I wish not to find out,” Ellead whispered.
She nodded in full agreement, wishing to stay less than he. Having nearly become the next meal of the red beast made her less inclined to stick around to find out if it would return for another try. Or worse, if the golden dragon would return. Perhaps the fight had been over which dragon would have them first. That could not be right. It let them go, choosing to pursue the red beast rather than pick them as a meal.
Only one problem hindered them. Duke appeared uninjured but for the strain of his muscles, but she dared not risk further injury.
Despite her concerns, he chewed the bit and nuzzled the fur of her winter cloak with his normal calm. With a smile, she laid her head on his neck and took a deep breath of the scent of horse sweat. It filled her with a new strength and calmed the steady thudding of her heart in her ears.
If she could survive that, they had a chance. “Good boy,” she whispered.
Taelyn had said nothing of other dragons. Were there others like the gold? Where had it come from? Why did it chase the red?
The twitter of a few birds filled the silence between her and Duke. Life returned.
The dragons were gone.
“I think we’ve less to worry now.” Calli patted Duke’s steaming neck and looked up at the men on their sweaty mounts.
“Pardon me saying, but are yeh mad? Not natural is the fire that vanishes. Unless my eyes deceive me, we’ve to be careful of other enchantments.”
As much as she wished to believe the enchantment that extinguished the fire worked for their good, Calli understood Fenwar’s warning. After their experience, she would use more caution.
The scattered clouds cleared before the sun descending to the horizon. They needed shelter for the night. None of them wished to linger in the forest.
They had to ride on.
Calli led Duke through the snow, watching for any lameness or injury, but he followed without trouble.
Seeing nothing wrong, she mounted the gray gelding, and they continued through the forest. Normal sounds followed them, though she knew something else lived amid the trees. She only hoped they took no offense to the three of them riding through, whatever extinguished the fire.
__________
Calli and Jayson
Seeing fresh wagon tracks and no sign of dragons lifted the clouds from Calli’s heart.
They rode in peace.
Without any distractions, her mind drifted to the past. Whether a cue from forgotten emotions or habit, she played with the pendant on the chain about her neck. Calli caught herself and glanced at the men on either side of her. Neither of them paid attention. Perhaps she played with the chain so many times that they no longer bothered to care. Had it become such a habit?
She held it up in the evening light and studied the seal of the Isolder family, a five-pointed crown with stars at each point circled by a braided ring. For that General Marjan respected her as the Lady of Arronfel.
The meaning went deeper than a simple token of her past. It sealed a promise by the prince of Cavatar, Phelan Isolder. When she left him so many moon cycles ago, he vowed she would be his queen when she returned.
Calli looked on the promise now with nothing more than a sense of loss. The palace had fallen with the rest of the kingdom to the hands of Tyrkam last summer. Phelan had left the continent or fallen with the palace, depending on which rumors one believed. Because the king was bent on keeping him away, she tended to the former. She also wanted to believe he survived.
She had promised to return to him. He had given her what she needed for her journey—a good horse, a specially-made sword, and training with two of the best weapon masters. Only when she discovered she could not return did she begin to let him go. With it went her past.
And came a new purpose. The day the news came, she vowed to free the land and return it to its rightful heir. She also let another into her heart that day.
Calli lifted her eyes to the gathering clouds above. Her heart lifted with the face passing through her memories. Where are you, Jayson? Why did you leave?
As she had left Phelan, so Jayson had left her. Her heart went with him on whatever quest he tried to say but not say. Surely by his face he shared her feelings.
She could have claimed the love of either man but did nothing.
With a sigh of regret, Calli tucked the pendant back into her shirt beneath the coat. A bitter wind stung her cheeks and her energy. She adjusted the scarf over her nose and mouth. They needed warm shelter for the night.
All roads connected to villages. Sooner or later, though hopefully sooner, they would find a village and likely an inn with a warm bed.
* * *
Jayson studied the smoothened snow; saw where the horse fell from all the impressions of the tack and hoof prints. They had barely escaped.
He knew before this.
From a safe distance he had watched the wyvern finish the cattle. With such a meal in its belly, it should have slept for at least a day. All dragons were sluggish after a large meal. Like the half dozen he had killed while they slept, he expected to follow the same pattern with this one.
Unfortunately, the appearance of the three riders over the hill caught the eyes of the beast. When they turned, it followed. They headed into the forest, unaware of the danger in the sky. The lead rider rode a gray horse that almost blended into the landscape. Jayson’s heart skipped a beat when he caught a view of red from under the hood.
At that point, he reached out through the magic surrounding him for her effect on the colors. Just as he remembered, Calli’s radiance shone through the flow of power.
Using a power he could never sustain for long, he conjured an orb to watch the events. Though he could not hear words, he could see.
He saw Calli.
Watching her sliding toward the red wyvern swooping low to claim her as its meal froze his breath in his chest. His mouth went dry. Not until the gold dragon interceded did he breathe again. He saw her coming but doubted the gold would reach them in time.
Had he the power, he would have transported himself between Calli and the wyvern, but no less than one of the Great Magi could cast such magic.
At least they came. The dragons of the Second Realm would aid in the battle against the Red Clan. Now the Red Clan would not have free reign of the world.
After the attack, Jayson traveled as fast as his feet could carry him through the snow. Though it took him a night of travel to reach it, he arrived in the old forest. Luckily, the weather cooperated and left their prints for him to follow Calli and the others.
Never had he imagined finding them beyond the safety of Arronfel, especially in winter. He had hoped she would remain there, except for Lusiradrol’s threat. Could the dragon woman cross the barrier?
If she intended to follow through with her threat, at least she would not find Calli there. Small comfort. If she truly wished to harm Calli, Lusiradrol had other means to find her. By now, the black dragon had noticed the magic flowing differently around Calli and used that to locate her in their previous encounters.
Jayson opened himself to the magic of the forest. It flowed through him, connecting him to the creatures protecting the trees. They guided Istaria to Darius and extinguished the flames blown by the wyverns. Now they showed him the path Calli took through their lands.
A half day’s journey afoot, though with four I’d have less. But for a certain messenger missing…
A lopsided smile curved up his cheek as he considered the fair shapeshifter. Gaispar could take the form o
f any creature, a talent he considered useful. Too bad she would never provide him a mount.
Despite his desire to catch up to Calli, he could not steal Gaispar from her duties. With an orb like he created, the dragons watched events, but they needed their messenger to be their ears and mouth.
“A fairer companion I can think of only one.”
Safe journey, mage, the guardians of the forest whispered in his mind.
Jayson threw a salute to the hundreds of hiding faces and adjusted the hood of his cloak.
It seemed another lifetime since he met Calli, but with luck he would soon rejoin her in this one.
With his cloak blocking the icy wind, he followed the trio of paths to one through the snow. It wound through the trees for a length, until it reached a road. There, he lost the trail amid other prints. From that point they must have followed the road. No tracks led off.
__________
Tyrkam
Each heavy step echoed within the chamber an ominous warning of his foul mood. Closed windows barred the cold while a healthy fire crackled in the fireplace. No wind dared touch the windows this side of the palace. Not even the lone guard standing at attention by the door of the room disturbed the quietude with a movement.
Tyrkam let out a deep, contemplative breath to cool the frustration tightening through him. He had allowed the old woman and her companion to “heal” the queen, never suspecting their true nature.
Only one person may have known. After the queen’s disappearance, and Lusiradrol’s entrance, he sought out Makleor with the intention of demanding an explanation. No such luck. The wizard could make himself scarce when he wished.
No one knew where the old man hid. Some swore he roamed the halls, mumbling to himself. Others reported him vanishing through the walls like a ghost.
Whatever the story, the wizard knew. If Tyrkam had to return to Wynmere and burn the wizard’s prized books to lure him out, he would do so. Whatever the cost, the one person who could protect him from Lusiradrol would feel the force of his anger.
“Meddle not in the affairs of wizards. No.”
The amusement in the voice halted Tyrkam’s steps and set his blood boiling.
“Never a one for wisdom.” The bodiless voice chuckled.
With a growl in his throat, Tyrkam spun to face the source of the voice. “Show yourself, old man.”
From a shadow stepped the hooded mage, his gray beard hanging down his chest.
“Hmm? Yes.”
A chill crept down Tyrkam’s spine at the coolness of Makleor’s tone. He considered the old man short a few hairs from his beard. That tone, however, bore a cunning edge.
“Tell me the truth. What magic took the Lady Damaera from this place?”
The tap of the wood staff on stone was the only sound the old man made as he stepped closer. Tyrkam caught a glint in the good eye.
Makleor stopped within easy reach of Tyrkam’s sword.
“What know you of the Lumathir?” Makleor asked.
“Witches. They hide in their ancient city practicing magic.” Or so were the rumors. No one knew where that city was, though.
A smile played beneath the beard. “They tricked you. Yes, tricked. A fool heeds no one but is easily fooled.”
The old man spoke nonsense! Never in the years since they met had Makleor spoken sense to him, but the mage aided his army. For that reason and because Lusiradrol feared him, Tyrkam tolerated the old man’s strange ways.
“No fool am I.” Makleor chuckled. His gnarled and bony fingers clutched his staff for support. For all the frailty of his body, true power lied within. Perhaps it was all that kept him alive.
Tyrkam smiled with false charm, smoothing the ring of black hair around his mouth. “Humor me, old one. Where has the lady gone?” He doubted the wizard would speak the truth, but perhaps he was senile enough to answer the question.
“You’ve ears. Do they not hear?”
Tyrkam tensed, biting his tongue. If he evaded his questions one more time, Makleor would find himself impaled.
“Have I not already said she’s with the Lumathir?”
“Riddles! Be gone!” Though he needed Makleor now more than ever with Lusiradrol’s clan loosed, Tyrkam could tolerate no more of his riddles and insanity. Giving him the answer after taunting him soured his mood, and he was in no mood for the wizard’s nonsense to begin. From their first encounter, Makleor spoke nonsense, but his predictions had an uncanny knack for coming true.
Though part of him wished the old man would leave, he dared not risk it. Despite Tyrkam’s harsh words, Makleor remained. Whatever kept him, Tyrkam knew not. Something gave him power over the old man.
“No wisdom.” Makleor mumbled to himself and turned to leave. “A child, but not the same.”
Clenching his teeth on a curse, Tyrkam watched the old man hobble away to the door. The guard opened and closed it behind him, though the old man needed no help if he could travel in shadows. Tyrkam was no closer to using the queen than he was before the wizard showed himself. Makleor played a part in it; of that he was certain. Why?
Were the old woman and her apprentice Lumathir? If so, the answer had slipped through his fingers, but he could have done nothing to stop them.
Rather than dwelling on what escaped, Tyrkam turned his thoughts to what came next. Lusiradrol had ordered him to destroy the princess. He needed no orders nor promises to punish her for taking what he prized—the power of the white dragon. If Lusiradrol could show him how to find her, he’d send someone. He already knew who that would be.
Tyrkam turned to the guard. The helmeted soldier straightened. “Find Shadow. I have a task for him.”
The man acknowledged the order with a slight bow and exited the room.
Once the door thudded shut behind the guard, Tyrkam stood in the room alone with his thoughts and the patter of a mouse somewhere in the shadows.
The man known only as Shadow had earned his name. He was a master of death and talented in stealth. He had joined Tyrkam before the siege of Wynmere Castle, and eliminated the king’s brother and family, opening the door for an easy conquest. With the princess surrounded by magic, only Shadow’s proven stealth skills would help him get close to her.
Tyrkam leaned over the mantle, gazing into the fiery fingers clawing at the air. It warmed his front and danced with images of the future.
He blinked away the burning on his eyes and caught a glimpse of a woman with an evil grin for a brief instant. Tyrkam blinked again but the image vanished. Was Lusiradrol checking on him? Or was it his imagination?
A chill swept through the room and nearly blew out the fire. He shivered. Have you a word to say, speak! I’ve no time for games.
Despite the faint hint of laughter, she made no appearance.
“I’ve no trust of her.”
Tyrkam spun at the unexpected voice and spied the man dressed head to toe in black like his namesake. Shadow. He never heard the mercenary enter the room. “Trust is not a word to describe her.”
The man who gave his name only as Shadow smiled beneath the cover of his mantle, though the dancing flames turned it into a sinister grin. He stood in the gray light with the aura of death hanging over him.
Many times Tyrkam had called on him for swift retribution. Shadow always succeeded. This would be his most challenging mission. “A task she wants completed that I’ve not the time nor skills.”
Shadow stood frozen, his blue eyes fixed on Tyrkam from beneath the hood. Never would he speak unless necessary. Tyrkam wished many times that Vahrik could learn as much, though no more. He should have sent this man to track the princess, not Vahrik, after her escape with Darius, but Shadow was far away at the time on another mission.
“Lusiradrol wishes the princess brought to her, for the same reason I wish her alive.”
“I understand.” The calm Shadow wore belied the seriousness of the matter. “She is no ordinary princess.”
The smile returned, though without the sha
dows from the fire. This time Tyrkam saw the truth. Something in the man anticipated the sport.
“A power she possesses,” Tyrkam said. “Magic greater than any other. Lusiradrol would deny me my right to that power…The Isolder girl will not be easy to claim. In a ‘Second Realm’ she resides, if Lusiradrol speaks truth. I know not how to reach it, though she does but cannot pass through.” If that was the truth. For all he knew, Lusiradrol could have lied to send him on a fool’s errand, which was why he called on others.
“I know this place.”
Tyrkam studied the steel visage, but Shadow betrayed no emotion. Unlike any other man he met, Shadow gave away nothing of what he thought or felt. He carried out each task with no show of emotion.
“The dragons of old retreated to the Second Realm to escape the hostility of men.” As cool as ice Shadow spoke.
Tyrkam nodded, hiding his surprise that the man knew this fact. If he had his way, all the dragons would be put to death. The few times he encountered them, they spoke in riddles to answer his questions about the white dragon.
“You know then the challenge awaiting you.”
A sly smile crept to the assassin’s lips. “They’ve returned to this, the First Realm of their ancestors. She’ll be vulnerable.”
How did he know? Tyrkam focused on the man’s face for anything that might betray him. Blue eyes sparked with intrigue beneath a heavy brow, his face a mask of neutrality. As Tyrkam expected nothing, Shadow lived up to his reputation.
In the end, how he knew was not as important as the knowledge itself. It would serve him.
“Bring her to me, alive preferably, but dead if you must. I’ll pay double your price if you retrieve her alive.”
This time he made no mistake of interpreting the malevolence casting a dark light over the assassin’s face. “I ask no reward, my lord. I’ll bring your princess in appreciation of the information you provided.”
The glacial calm of the voice chilled Tyrkam. The only emotion ever from the man. Interesting.
He might never know why. Shadow kept all information to himself. Tyrkam never asked, since the man carried out his tasks without fail. Tyrkam’s main concern now was the princess and satisfying Lusiradrol and his own thirst for revenge.
Legends Page 8