Damaera stepped lightly around a dead fountain whose ring of stone birds would forever strive for flight and never quite leave the ground. The lonely square whispered of days of excess and jubilance. She loved walking through that part of the city, the open corridor from the gates to the fountain.
She loved Euramai, the dead city. The name betrayed the truth in her eyes. The city yet lived in the past, steeped in its own legends and culture. Most of the women living inside the city stayed near the large gardens, which supported their needs. Many of them felt that the spirits of the past haunted the streets. They dared not venture out to disturb them. Damaera saw it differently. If the ghosts of those long past did still walk the streets, they must have welcomed visitors.
The city kept her emotions subdued by busying her mind.
“My lady.”
Damaera jumped out of her skin but caught her breath at the woman who materialized next to her. “Gayle… I wish you’d not do that.”
“Forgive me, sister.” Gayleana paused to look toward the garden. “You’d be safest now with the others. The High Priestess asked that I bring you with haste.”
Odd. “She does nothing in haste.” Besides that, Tahronen should have called her with mindspeech. It would have saved Gayleana the trouble of approaching without announcing herself, and it would have saved her from trembling.
“True. Please, hurry. She has good reason.”
Damaera looked on her sister, a question on her lips, but Gayleana shook her head.
“She said nothing to me, but will explain when we return.”
Damaera stretched her legs to keep up with Gayleana’s hurried pace.
While they wove through the streets, her mind sought answers before they came. Even with the small amount of magic she learned to use, she could not find a purpose. It frustrated her. At least as a queen, she had possessed the authority to demand answers when she wanted them. Now, the answers were given when Tahronen decided.
More than two moon cycles had passed since she followed Tahronen to Euramai. Her training progressed at a slow pace to the point that she never expected to pass the second challenge. Through it all, her heart mourned for her previous life; the life Tyrkam stole away.
But he had not set events in motion. That happened some twelve years ago, when her youngest child hid in the cavern below the orchard. The spirit of the white dragon claimed Istaria. The prophecy set events in motion, not Tyrkam.
In the thousands of years since the dragons disappeared, only legends remained. None remembered the ancient tales she had recently learned while under the guidance of the Lumathir, who preserved the stories and continued to train the magic-adept.
She would do her duty as queen to defend the land, one way or another. Damaera Isolder was still queen of Cavatar, no matter what Tyrkam thought.
With her jaw clamped tight, she silently prayed for the strength she needed. Istaria was safe, but the rest of Cavatar was in ruins. She prayed they found a way to defeat the evil in their lives.
Before she realized, they arrived at the outer wall of the gardens. Damaera followed Gayleana up the steps to the columns and arches of the library at the main entrance. Their rushed steps whispered through halls of dusty tomes until they emerged on the other side. The others gathered upon the wide steps leading down into the gardens.
The women gathered in a lone patch of sunlight, which set Tahronen aglow. From there they followed the Majera through the gardens to the tower on the other side. Within it lay not only Tahronen’s chamber above, but also their living areas.
The common room? Is that where they would all gather?
She hurried inside behind Gayleana as a chill swept through her. Others shivered and looked around in wonder.
Let the ill wind pass, Tahronen instructed. Her connection came through only faintly.
The whispers quieted and they gathered in the large common room where they ate and meditated. Without any movement of commanding the magic she used, Tahronen sent the three long, low tables sliding and scraping to a corner opposite one of the two crackling fireplaces. The pillows on which they sat for cushions from the cold floor came together in a circle in the center of the room.
“Be seated.”
All obeyed without question. Damaera chose a place next to her younger sister. As with many group meditations, they joined hands and closed their eyes. The connection opened from one to the next, the magic flowing freely and building up with each who added to it.
When Tahronen took her place and completed the circle, power spiked. All the world opened to Damaera. In an instant, she knew what worried the high priestess.
Gasps of horror broke the silence.
DRAGONS! The unified thought rang out.
The red beasts flew in a formation more precise than the rough V of migrating birds. From the lead beast a dark power resonated. Tahronen opened her vision; the image of Lusiradrol dressed head to toe in black came to them.
Learn it well. Tahronen’s words echoed within their heads.
As if from the city towers, they watched the red cloud approach. The enormous wings stretched across the horizon.
Before they could see more, Tahronen drew upon the circle of power. It ran like water from Damaera’s core. An image of a river of light flowing upwards filled her inner vision. It poured up and over the entire city, forming a barrier of light against the enemy.
The red dragons landed on the cliff near the barrier, and Lusiradrol lifted her hands upwards. A beam pierced out from her hands and struck the barrier.
Damaera flinched but did not falter. A sense of weakness passed through the younger women, touching her through their connection.
You must believe in yourselves, Tahronen gently reminded.
Magic opened up from them once more as she guided it to shield them.
The wyvern Lusiradrol rode landed outside the city gates and tested the barrier with a probing claw towards the wall. Energy flared.
The beast jumped back from the sting. Lusiradrol tapped its head on which she stood.
On strong hind limbs, it stood as tall as it could, allowing her to look over the wall at the city beyond. A tendril of something sinister slithered through the magic, exploring it.
It followed the flow to its source.
Damaera clamped her jaw and blocked her mind against the cold, numbing darkness trying to penetrate her defenses. It lured her into a pit of despair.
“Fight it, but do not close your minds!”
Too late, the flow of magic weakened. The shadow of Lusiradrol’s presence entered the city.
When she opened her mind as Tahronen commanded, Damaera saw the wyverns climbing over the wall. It withstood their weight as it had withstood millennia of nature.
Lusiradrol fixed her dark eyes on the gardens. Her wyvern headed straight for the central structure. The buildings, which had withstood the rigors of nature, man, and beast, toppled before the red tide. They swung their tails and gripped with wing talons at the structures, clearing a swath from the gate to the library at the head of the garden.
Rubble lay strewn beneath a rising cloud of dust in their wake. Damaera’s heart ached at the destruction of the beautiful city and the plaza she had recently wandered.
“Stay together. We are stronger with our powers combined.” Tahronen’s voice carried over the room with a note of tenderness as a parent instructing a child. It washed away the negative emotions and the walls they created. Blocks fell, and like a dam broken, the energy poured forth.
Damaera inhaled at the spike of magic. Tahronen’s voice soothed away some of her fear and gave her confidence, like the others. Lusiradrol would not reach them.
The dark woman and her army stopped at the library, unable to penetrate the barrier.
Once again, she probed them with her powers. This time, Damaera never flinched from the darkness passing through her. This time she let it flow past like a serpent through water. She refused to give the woman what she wanted, allowing her
further intrusion into the calm of the city.
The serpent found her memories and struck.
I know where she is, a cold voice said in her mind.
An image of Istaria and the guard, Darius, appeared in Damaera’s mind. Fear crept up her spine. You cannot touch her!
The mocking laughter sent a chill through her. So sure are you?
According to Tahronen, Lusiradrol could not pass beyond the gateway to Eyr Droc. How could she be wrong?
I have other means. Had you not betrayed her power, all would be as it was. You did this.
Lusiradrol was right. Damaera had betrayed Istaria by denying the power she bore. She should have let her daughter use her power, learn to control it so she could face this monster. Instead, Damaera had let fear lead her. She’d been afraid of her husband or anyone learning the truth about Istaria’s magic and made Istaria keep it under tight control and promise to never use it. She’d been afraid of losing everything because of the fear of the people about magic.
“Consider none of this! She is protected.” Tahronen’s voice boomed like thunder.
Damaera calmed herself. No. She would not give in. She would not let Lusiradrol destroy them. She would not be the weak point.
You think I will be defeated like this? I will not allow him to return. I will destroy all of them, and you! A tone of desperate intent sharpened the voice.
Damaera trembled, her worries for her daughter renewed. She could not let Lusiradrol bring harm to her family. She had lost too much already.
“Damaera, she’s using you to break our strength. Do not listen!”
Though she tried to fight, the darkness within her pulled her into the abyss. The words of Lusiradrol and the menace of her touch tugged at her emotions.
How could she have denied her daughter when she believed in magic? All those years, she feared Istaria’s power. She deserved no forgiveness.
What have I done? Despair grew like a hole beneath her. She fell deeper and deeper, the light above shrinking. Images of her daughter dying overwhelmed her.
* * *
A cool wetness rested on her forehead, and the softness of her bed lay beneath her.
Damaera blinked to clear her eyes. Through the blur of the nightmares fading away, she made out the lines of Gayleana’s concern.
Memories drifted back, realities confused with the shadows of the emotional attack. She recalled the circle of Light, the connection with the others, and Lusiradrol.
A cold shudder passed through her at the memory of such malevolence and emptiness.
“Welcome back. You were out a while.”
“What happened?”
“She tried to break us through you.” Gayleana frowned and sat back from the mattress on the floor. “Lusiradrol attacked your weakness. You passed out before she could use it against us.” She paused and pursed her lips a moment before continuing in a solemn voice. “Forgive me—I never realized the depth of your pain.”
Damaera searched her sister’s face. She thought the pain buried so deeply no one would see. Now, they knew? “I alone bear this burden. No others should take it.”
“We are weak alone. That’s why Lusiradrol attacked you.”
Anger simmered up at the accusation. “Never have I allowed weakness!” Damaera’s head throbbed with the pressure of her emotions. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply to calm herself. In a quiet voice, she asked, “Has she gone?”
“Not without leaving her mark.”
Damaera opened her eyes. “What mark?”
Gayleana removed the wet cloth from Damaera’s forehead and dropped it into a bucket at her side. The plunk of the damp rag into the water shattered the silence.
Damaera watched her sister in concern. Before she could repeat her question, Gayleana answered it. “With her clan, she brought the mountain down over the city. Only by the power of the Lumathir were we able to save the garden.”
The city…
Her heart sank at the image of what must have been. Shame seeped into her voice. “I’m sorry.”
“This city is home, the only home many of us have ever known.” Gayleana looked up with glazed eyes. “I know you lost much more. I knew nothing of your sorrow until today.”
“Gayle…” Damaera eased herself to a sitting position, the cold stone of the wall forming a backrest. Was her sister apologizing or chastising?
It mattered not. She had been wrong to snap at her sister with her pride.
She reached for Gayleana. Though only recently materialized as more than faded childhood memories, the bond between them was stronger than between any of the others.
Gayleana laid her head on Damaera’s lap and shoved the water bucket away. “I was jealous of you until today.” She sniffed back quiet tears. “Now I share your grief in more ways than I wished. Only one strong of spirit could endure. Forgive me.”
Damaera stroked the silky golden hair. The action reminded her of consoling Istaria. “What is to forgive that was not truth? I spoke out of frustration; as much from denying the truth as acknowledging it.” She took a deep breath and added, “You should not have had to share my pain.”
Gayleana sat up and wiped her eyes. “What is not shared of us than the same blood? I’ll do all I can to protect her.”
“I know.” Damaera exhaled her frustrations, leaving only regrets for her harsh tone. “But I can ask nothing. I alone must atone for my actions. No one can do that for me.”
“You misunderstand. We all shared your pain. Istaria’s purpose is the same for all. Nothing else have we than to raise our greatest ally.”
Had she heard right? Because she allowed the magic to flow through her in their connection, the others also shared her sorrows? Had they seen her betrayal, how for years she kept her daughter at arm’s length in fear of her powers while hiding her heritage?
Such a revelation was not her choice. She could have aided the coming of the white dragon if she accepted her daughter’s condition sooner. Instead, she hid it, afraid of what others in the magic-hating world might think. She had hindered what the Lumathir hoped to accomplish; perhaps even helped to bring about this disaster.
“What future comes is never that of motherhood here,” Gayle said. “That we may share yours is as much a blessing as a curse. Shed your grief. You’re no longer alone.”
Damaera took a deep breath. Perhaps in time she could forgive herself but now was not that time. She patted Gayleana’s hand and smiled wanly. “Only time can heal those wounds.”
“Time we have not.” The soft voice ran as the melody of a stream in the woods.
Both women looked up at Tahronen’s youthful face. The troubles of Damaera’s mind melted away.
“Lusiradrol will return after her works are begun, to finish the damage she started.” Her eyes went to Gayleana. “When you’re ready, you will accompany her to Eyr Droc.”
Gayleana blinked. “The Second Realm?”
Tahronen smiled at Damaera. “She’ll need you when the time comes.”
“She?”
“Istaria.”
“I can be with her again?” Her heart lifted at the prospect.
“You’re a risk here. You’ll be more useful there.”
While Damaera’s thoughts tumbled over one another, Tahronen quietly withdrew from the room and closed the door behind her. Damaera stared after the priestess, unsure whether to rejoice at the news or resent Tahronen for waiting to tell her.
“Rest now, sister,” Gayleana said and rose to her feet. “You’ll soon meet one of the dragons.”
__________
Calli
Calli gazed into the crackling fire. The warmth on her front saturated through her clothes into her soul.
The family was more than generous, but Calli could stay no longer. She could not take advantage of the hospitality, nor could she sit still when her friend was alive and well. And, while the snow had piled high outside, it no longer fell.
In the time in the house, Jayson had sai
d very little to her of a personal nature. Instead, he spoke of the Sh’lahmar, dragons, the Majera, and magic. She wished he would say more concerning his feelings, but he detoured from the topic whenever she tried to steer him towards it.
He held something back, like he had when he left her in Arronfel. Perhaps she assumed wrong or saw a mirage of what she wished to see; but she felt there was something.
Her emotions twisted inside her. She despised Jayson for holding back information about Istaria, but she understood his reasons. If she had learned about her friend before she formed an attachment to him, she would have hated him and left him alone.
She could not hate him now, when she had nothing left. He was the only living being more dear to her than her friendship to Istaria. Everything else in her life she had ever loved had been taken away. She needed him, and forgiveness was the only path open to her.
In their few days together, her heart had reconciled the conflict. She knew she could not live without him.
But why did he avoid her? Had her words offended him? If so, why did he place himself between her and the brothers?
Calli smiled at the thought, staring through the flames licking at the air. The boys, ranging in age from twelve to seventeen, did all they could to flatter her. At meals, one or the other tried to take a seat next to her. Somehow, Jayson always managed to squeeze them out.
The scrape of the door brushed aside her thoughts.
Jayson’s face peeked in, his blue eyes sparkling. “Slept well?”
“Much better than many a night since I can remember.”
His smile brightened the room. “Ellead’s packed the saddle full of all Llaeryn insisted.”
Llaeryn. So busy and concerned. She did all she could to assist them and took a particular interest in Calli’s affairs. In private, Llaeryn described how Jayson had never left her side while she recovered.
What did it mean?
His words and actions confused her. She rolled it all around in her mind over the days they had stayed with the family. She had to know, but it refused to come out; or was she afraid of learning a truth she wished not to know? He had hidden his secret of the Sh’lahmar. What else might he be hiding? Something worse?
Legends Page 12