Legends

by Melanie Nilles

“Tû adra mora ther ôn!”

  Again the creature screeched.

  The light of Tahronen flared. As if the whole universe opened up its power, the Light passed through Damaera. With her eyes closed it blinded her.

  A shriek pierced the air. The void sucking away their power shattered like glass, and the fullness granted by the inner Light renewed her strength.

  Through closed eyes she noticed the Light fading. Damaera dared to open her eyes and squinted at the calm beauty of the high priestess. Behind her, a throng of curious faces peered in through an open door.

  Tahronen sighed. “It will bother you no more.”

  “Is it gone?” Gayleana asked.

  “The answer you wish I cannot grant. The nekrethe are vile abominations. The Darklord created them to steal the life of those who opposed him. Only he can destroy them, by reabsorbing them.”

  She turned as the others crept into the small room. “I suspect this one felt his presence when Lusiradrol attacked.”

  “Will it return?” one of the younger girls asked.

  “Perhaps, in time.”

  “Why was it after us?”

  Tahronen looked on Damaera with knowing eyes. “The Darklord touched you. The whisper of Lusiradrol’s darkness lingers still. The nekrethe seek their master, but this one took advantage to feed.”

  Silence fell over them.

  After a moment of contemplation, Tahronen lifted her head and smiled.

  “Fear not. The nekrethe are not without weakness, as you saw. Inside each of you lies the Light that can banish the demons. Call on it and you will weaken them.”

  “Them, High Priestess?” one of the others asked.

  “How many are there?”

  “When last I knew, three yet had not been reabsorbed. This one, we know its location.” Tahronen turned for the door, her presence pressing the others out of the bedchamber. At the door, she turned back to the sisters. “This one has retreated. It will sleep a while longer while it recovers, until the Darklord reawakens it once more. Then we have much to fear.”

  When she exited, the door closed behind her. Damaera looked to Gayleana and shuddered. “I pray for the future of our world.”

  Gayleana nodded.

  * * *

  Although still dark in the morning after the attack, many of the other women and girls sat in the common area before the fireplaces. They practiced generating light to fend off the darkness.

  The sky rumbled.

  Why did Tahronen do nothing? Damaera strode directly to where Tahronen stood over one group. “Have you no concern of that?”

  Tahronen listened a moment and smiled, her demeanor calm. “Had I worried, you would not have rested. They clear the debris.”

  Almost a whole moon cycle had passed since Lusiradrol attacked with her Red Clan. The Lumathir had survived but at a price. The mountain formed a dome over the gardens and their living area. Tahronen said the dragons would dig them out and take Damaera to her daughter in Eyr Droc.

  Damaera listened. The thunder was not the same as the rumblings before the nekreth appeared. She let out a sigh of relief. Soon she would see Istaria.

  “A few more days and we shall see sky once more,” Tahronen said.

  The other women generated small luminescent spheres, unconcerned with her fate. Hopefully she would be gone before the vile nekreth returned, but part of her worried for the others.

  __________

  Calli

  Wind howled and rattled against glass, overpowering the crackling of a fire. Cold and hot vied for dominance.

  Calli shivered and stretched beneath the covers before opening her eyes.

  Jayson’s smile rested on the edge of the mattress, his eyes fixed on her and his hands clasped before him. “I trust you slept well?”

  She pushed herself up onto her elbow. How long had he sat watching her sleep? How could he be so perky at that hour? “How was the floor?”

  He shrugged. “Hard, but no worse than the ground.”

  She thought to say something but the rattling of the window stole her attention. Snow splattered in large puffs against the glass, thrown as projectiles by the wind.

  Calli had planned to leave that day to see her friend. So much for that idea.

  “Not a joyful sight but not unexpected.” Jayson moved away from the bed, giving her room to sit up.

  She threw back the blankets, glad she slept in her clothes. Though the fire crackled and spat in the fireplace, it could not chase away the cold of a winter storm. The extra clothes provided some protection, but they could not rid her of the image that chilled her soul. Last night by the light from a window…

  She shivered more from the thought than the cold. “Then I cannot be certain.”

  His brow furrowed. “Certain of what?”

  “Lusiradrol.” The woman must have conjured the weather. They would find no trace of her now.

  Jayson’s mood darkened at the name. He climbed to his feet, his eyes never leaving her. “When?”

  “Last night, when I…was mad. I saw someone in the street. I’d swear by my honor, but I’m not certain. Maybe it was someone else.” She studied his face for confirmation, but he said nothing, nor had he seen the figure. “I can think of no reason she would walk by, but now any tracks will be gone.”

  “Unfortunately, I can.” Since her recovery from the dragon attack, he had told her of his encounter in the mountains with Lusiradrol while riding to his home. “An odd thing of this woman—she finds delight in teasing her victims.”

  Victims? Calli shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. The way he said that sounded ominous. What did Lusiradrol want?

  “Worry not your mind with this.” Jayson gently brushed loose locks of red from her face. “Whatever her purpose, you’ll not face her alone.”

  Though she stared up at him, she saw the image from the night before. She wished she knew what Lusiradrol might want with her, but only vile images came to mind. The woman used her. Calli wished she had listened to her voice of caution and never agreed to the bargain.

  Now she would pay for her unreasonable ambition.

  “What is done is done, as you told me,” Jayson said. “We cannot undo the past. But we can plan for the future.”

  Calli blinked away the visions and focused on the blue eyes gazing down at her. When he offered his hand to help her to her feet, she took it, and he pulled her up.

  Snow stuck to the edges of the window and corners with melted streaks over the middle. It fell in large clumps of flakes with such fury that she saw only a white sheet.

  “We’ll be here a while.”

  Did he want to be stuck there? She wanted to see her friend. Now that she was close to seeing Istaria once again, after all her struggles to reach her, winter decided to delay her. She should have expected it.

  “Lauckney says he’s seen nothing like it. I’d not doubt Lusiradrol did this.”

  “Why? What purpose?”

  Jayson shrugged. “Her own reasons.”

  Why would the woman keep them there? It made no sense.

  Nothing made sense. She needed something else to think about. If she would be stuck there for any length of time, the least Calli could do was clean herself and hoped Jayson would do the same. Not since she had awakened from her death had her hair been brushed and her clothes fresh. He smelled less than fresh too.

  “Jayson?”

  “My lady?”

  A smile sprang to her lips at his formal address. “I’ve a favor to ask.”

  “Have you any request within my power, I will grant it.”

  She smirked as he bowed with a flare she missed since he left Arronfel. That hint of his old self lifted her mood, but what happened to him while he was gone? What did he not tell her?

  He would tell her if it was important. She was certain of that. “I need water to clean myself.”

  He paused as if uncertain.

  “Please, then leave me while I change.”

  “So
shall it be.” Jayson backed out the door with a smile.

  Calli gazed out the window, the wind rattling the glass too much to hear the door clap shut behind her. Cold air radiated from the window. With the warm fire at her back, she tolerated the chill.

  How long would the storm last? She hoped it let up soon, but with the way the snow fell, they would find travel difficult at best when they could leave. At least it came when they had sufficient shelter. If Lusiradrol wished to harm them, she could have done so while they were in the open, barely able to keep warm, much less sleep.

  What was the woman’s purpose for keeping them there? Or had Calli imagined the cloaked figure last night? She wished she could forget the incident, but it haunted her.

  The snow mesmerized her in its flurry. The closing of the door could not pull her from her daze.

  Yield no thought to her.

  Calli started at the voice in her head and blinked away her worries. An instant later, she remembered how Jayson projected his voice into her mind.

  She turned around to a smirk on his face. “I never heard you come.”

  “I noticed.” He set a pail of steaming water near the foot of the bed. “I’ll be below, if you need me.”

  “Thanks.”

  With a nod, he exited. She immediately latched the door behind him.

  “Now,” she muttered, “Where’s that gift from Llaeryn?” She could change clothes and wash the ones she wore. For a while, all worries of Lusiradrol slid aside.

  __________

  Gaispar

  Gaispar breathed in the scent of wood smoke from the fire warm on her back. After several days, the wounds from her attack by the stranger were nearly healed. She would soon leave the company of the herdsman and his wife.

  Though he had originally planned to kill her with the other wolves that attacked his cows, her plea had stopped him.

  When she first awoke before the fire, he offered some of his wife’s stew. The delicious mix of meat, potatoes, and other vegetables satisfied her hunger. Though barely able to move for the pain, she pushed her nose into his hand when he offered it. From that point, he tended her wounds without hesitation.

  The hounds kept their distance from her, though, along with his shrewish wife.

  She would love to stay as one of his pets, but she could not forsake her task. Luckily, the storm raging outside removed her guilt of resting, but when it let up, she would have to leave. Makleor had asked her to follow the shapeshifter sent out by Tyrkam, and she had lost him, although he had made a line toward the mountains before their fight. What was he after? Who was he?

  Should she return to Makleor to tell him what she knew? Or would the best choice be to find the stranger? If he was dead, she would have no more answers. If he survived, though, he would hide while he healed from the arrow. Once he realized she no longer followed, he would likely continue on his mission.

  What lay in the mountains that he sought? The Lumathir? Tyrkam could not expect him to cause trouble for such a group.

  The answer plagued her, teasing at the fringe of her thoughts since the pain lessened. As the distraction from her wounds decreased by the day, her mind played with ideas in more detail.

  Had he sent the man to do something to the princess? If so, the dragons would not allow it. As a shapeshifter, a child of Light, as opposed to a creation of the Darklord, the man would be able to pass through the gateway unencumbered, but the others would feel his presence. Not only that, but Darius would allow no harm to come to Istaria.

  Gaispar stretched out on her side and sighed. Her head hurt from trying to solve a problem with too many possibilities.

  “Eh.” The herdsman’s wife, Myrna, grunted her distaste. “Act like yeh own me place. Don’ know why James cares. Y’ll jus’ be eatin’ the calves come spring. Magic beast, me foot!”

  It had been the same every day from the woman. Gaispar had learned to ignore her.

  James scolded his wife once about rejecting magical beasts lest they curse one. Normally, Gaispar would have laughed about the superstition, but in this case, she took advantage of it.

  “Shoulda been back already.” Myrna peered out the ice-crusted window into the encroaching night. Concern warmed her tone.

  Gaispar lifted her head in curiosity. Was it possible that he lost his way? After all the care he gave her, Gaispar could not sit by while James froze to death, not to be found until spring thaw. That time came soon, but not soon enough.

  Well enough to leave had the storm not kept her there, she jumped to her feet. The least she could do was to help the man who had been kind and aided her recovery.

  “Eh?” The woman blinked squinty eyes, her mouth set in a scowl.

  Gaispar stood at the door, her eyes and ears fixed forward like their dogs when they wished to go out. From the beginning, she had copied their behavior.

  Only James let her back inside.

  “Want out, do ya?”

  Giving Gaispar the full distance allowed in the small cabin, the woman unlatched the door and opened it a crack. Cold and snow blew in on a bitter wind. “You can stay out as far as I care.”

  A snow drift halfway up the door crumbled down inside. Gaispar took a deep breath and sprang through the small opening. She cleared the top of the drift.

  Clumps of snow assaulted her eyes. She could see nothing but a dizzying white blur. The howling wind sent shivers through her, but the thick, white coat kept out the worst of the cold. Finding him by smell was as much out of the question as sight. She would have to rely on magic.

  Everything affected the forces of magic in its own way, and she had never forgotten the first lesson Makleor taught her three hundred years ago.

  She concentrated on the presence she knew as James and followed it, but it had faded from what she recognized. It led away from the ripples she identified as the cows and sheep, which stayed comfortable in the barn out of the horrid weather.

  When she passed outside the barn, she barely made out a hint of masonry peeking out of the snow at the corner. The rest was buried or held a thick coat of the white stuff to match the hills.

  She looked back at the house, the direction from which the presence of Myrna originated. Nothing but white.

  I’ve not to ask that you wandered. Worry gripped her heart that James had lost his way. Please be alive!

  Springing over the deep drifts left her tired, but she had to find him. She followed to where his presence in the magic led but saw nothing but white.

  With her nose to the powder, she dug for the presence. A hint of his scent reached her—the smell of animals and his body. In no time, she scratched at his heavy coat.

  Gaispar grabbed it in her teeth and pulled him free of the snow so she could get at his face.

  Wake up, James, she called to his mind.

  He stirred and mumbled something but no more.

  Damned be the cold! It brought on its lethargy and disorientation. She grabbed his shoulder in her teeth and pulled in the direction of the house. Leaving him was not an option.

  Not far from where they started, a hand slapped across her face. Startled, Gaispar let go.

  He had moved of his own accord! Over the howling wind and near his head, she barked loudly.

  “Huh? Hmm? What’s that racket?” Bundled tight in his winter clothes, he rolled over to gaze at her.

  Gaispar licked his cold face in gratitude. Stay with me.

  He blinked with snow-covered lashes and reached up for her. If he could get a grip, she might pull him out. A hand slapped her shoulder and fingers dug into her thick coat. He pulled hard at her coat, but she clamped her jaws on the yelp that escaped.

  After a difficult struggle against the snow, he managed to stand.

  His will was strong to regain consciousness and fight to keep upright and moving in the bitter cold and knee-high snow.

  She stayed beside him, leading to the house a step at a time.

  When he stumbled, she helped pull him to his feet. If she a
llowed him to rest, he would lose consciousness to the numbing effects of the cold. She would not let that happen. Keeping him moving was the key.

  He stumbled more often as they neared the house. Finally, within a few steps of the door, he fell face down. Frantic that he succumbed to the cold so close to rescue, Gaispar grabbed his coat and pulled. This time, he remained unconscious. It could not end like this, not so close! She dragged him with small jerks, an inch at a time.

  An eternity passed until the door bumped against her hindquarters. Gaispar barked at the top of her voice and scratched on the door for the woman to open it. If only Myrna would listen to reason!

  When a shimmer of light flickered against the snow, Gaispar took a good grip of his coat in her teeth and tugged with all her remaining strength.

  “James!”

  Myrna shoved Gaispar out of the way and took over. With more strength than Gaispar expected, the woman pulled him inside. At last! Warmth beckoned her.

  Panting from her efforts but needing to know his condition, Gaispar stood over him. Myrna ignored her and latched the door before pulling him to the fire. There, she removed his heavy clothes now wet with the melting snow.

  After piling two or three blankets on him, Myrna sat back. She looked up at Gaispar, gratitude painted over her face. “Thank you.”

  Satisfied that he would recover, Gaispar shook the wetness from her pelt and laid down beside him. She welcomed the peace filling her at being able to save him. The debt repaid was much more than that. The white dragon had fought to save the world.

  No matter what the Darklord did to corrupt the men of the Second Race, he could not extinguish the good qualities. That was worth fighting for.

  __________

  Makleor and Dorjan

  Makleor sighed and old bones quaked.

  All the land seemed bound by the relentless blizzard. The storm had already lasted several days and reeked of magic. Dark currents raced through it all, commanding the wind and the snow. Lusiradrol had her hands in this, of that he held no doubts.

  But for what reason?

  Was this why she sent her wyverns elsewhere, to avoid the storm she planned?