Legends

by Melanie Nilles

  Lusiradrol blinked away the last of the images. The sheer power she experienced through the eyes of the master engulfed her. She thrilled to the touch of the void and the ability to contain such power.

  How was it possible? The master was defeated before she hatched.

  She looked down at her hands, half expecting them to burn with such forces. They appeared as normal human hands.

  Once again, her eyes saw the nest, now containing three hatchlings while the rest wobbled with the dragons’ struggles to break free.

  “They will be hungry.” From the vision, Lusiradrol knew the perfect meal for the newest members of her clan. “They shall feast on the best meat I know—human flesh.” And catching them would be easy.

  __________

  Gaispar

  The sun sliced through the room, casting a radiant light across the table and chairs where the couple sat. After the storm ended, Gaispar had waited a few more days. The drifts would be deep, but with her arm mended, she intended to fly. The time arrived to continue her mission.

  Now, her heart found it hard to say farewell after so much time with them. James had recovered fully, and after the rescue in the storm, Myrna fed Gaispar more of a ration than any of their dogs.

  How could she thank them for their hospitality?

  One thought came to mind. Gaispar lifted her head and hesitated. How would they react to a woman when they knew and trusted the wolf? The few times she ever changed form before ordinary people had been ill met.

  “Eh?” Myrna looked from her to James, the disheveled hair catching the sun on every loose strand. “No ordinary wolf is that, James. The look in her eyes bothers me.”

  He turned around in his chair with a smile and reached down to pat Gaispar’s head. “A great mind.”

  She’d half expected him to scold his wife, but he was too good for that.

  The time had come. Gaispar ducked from his hand and transformed in seconds. She stood before them with a smile beneath her hood.

  Chairs scraped back as they jumped to their feet.

  Gaispar drew back her hood from long blonde hair. “Fear not, my friends.” She held her hands out, palms up to show that she meant no harm. “My intents have never been for ill. I’ve no other words to say than to thank you for all you’ve done. Had you not spared me, I know not what fate would have brought.”

  “Magic creature, indeed!” Myrna gasped, her back to the wall.

  James’s lips curved up slightly. “Indeed.”

  “Human as you, but a gift or a curse I cannot say of the rest.” At the questions she read on their faces, she added, “I must leave you. I’ve already stayed too long.”

  “Where will you go?” James relaxed and took a step forward.

  “To find the one you shot. He’ll not heal as fast.” The creatures of Wynmere had blessed her with more than simple immortality.

  “The cat?”

  She nodded. “Another such as myself, but whose intentions are foul.”

  “Two o’ you?” Myrna sat down, her eyes wide.

  “I must find him and stop him.” Gaispar grabbed the latch of the door. “Stay warm, my friends.”

  “Be careful.”

  Gaispar opened the door and stepped out into the warmth of the sun. Water dripped from icicles clinging to the eaves. The cold of the snow cooled through her boots.

  With a last glance at the peace of the small farm, she threw up her arms into wings. The wind greeted her and carried her up on its strong currents. When she glanced down, the couple stood at the door, gazing up at her.

  Gaispar let out a screech and climbed higher. Soon the farm was nothing but part of the landscape below.

  Now to find the stranger again and to report to Makleor. She’d considered the options during her rest. The only true choice was to follow the stranger and confirm his travel. She learned no more about him in their encounter than what Makleor had told her.

  Recalling the effect of the stranger on the currents of magic, she found the trail and followed where it led.

  The direction of that trail led into the mountains.

  __________

  Damaera

  From an ever-flowing font at the end of the gardens near their living areas, Damaera gazed on what had been her home for a short time. Life returned to what she knew as normal for the Lumathir. The various training groups walked the cleared paths through the snow. Where the remnants of the ancient city had surrounded it with decorative arches and spires, now rock and rubble cast an ominous shadow.

  Lying over that rubble was a beast she never expected.

  Istaria had told her of dreaming of dragons, but Damaera thought such visions the result of stories told to her. After all she learned from Tahronen and the Lumathir and Lusiradrol’s attack, she believed in the possibility, though she never expected to see one up close.

  Staring at a living dragon chased away any lingering doubts.

  The Topaz scales of the winged beast shimmered in the afternoon sun. Its head lay at the edge of the garden nearby. Smoke swirled out of both nostrils with each breath it exhaled, its sides expanding and shrinking almost too slow to perceive. Reptilian eyes regarded the activity around it with a calm she never expected from such a terrifying beast.

  “You must be excited.” Gayleana practically danced up beside her.

  Excited was the last word she would use to describe her emotions.

  “Soon you’ll join Istaria.”

  Gayleana’s smile could not penetrate the fear that clouded Damaera’s heart and smothered any excitement for seeing her daughter.

  “And this chance to ride a dragon?” she asked. “Pray tell, you seem eager.”

  Gayleana beamed. “Few are bestowed with such an honor.”

  Honor? Damaera restrained a grimace at the thought. And if this ‘friendly’ dragon decides we serve it best from inside its belly?

  The dragon’s gentle eyes met hers.

  Know that your fears are unsound,

  as others travel on us have found.

  “What was that?”

  “What?”

  “That voice.” Could it have been the dragon? Had it greater intelligence than she supposed? Tahronen’s stories had told of them understanding human speech and possessing great powers. She never mentioned this.

  You only I did intend

  to hear the voice of which I send.

  The dragon watched her, unmoved, while the gentle voice continued,

  The others will not hear

  but you will as if with ears.

  I am ready for your ride

  when you on my back will abide.

  Dumbfounded, Damaera stared. “It spoke to me.”

  “The dragon?” Gayleana’s voice lifted with excitement. “What did he say?”

  How could her sister show such emotion in the face of the beast? This one’s teeth were larger and sharper than the Red Clan’s. It had four legs for grabbing its victims instead of two. Least of all, its length far surpassed any of the Red Clan she had seen through her connection with Tahronen. Even after it helped to dig them out, she found trusting such a predator difficult.

  “He’s ready to leave,” Damaera said.

  “As are you.”

  Both turned at the intrusion of Tahronen’s voice. The youthful immortal strode toward them from beneath the arch bearing the likeness of the Creators.

  Tahronen stopped between them. On her shoulder perched a small, green creature bearing a shape similar to the Red Clan but with smooth scales and gazing at them through dark, gentle eyes.

  “The time is here. No longer can you wait. The birth of the child fast approaches and she needs help.”

  More dragons. Damaera studied the miniature clinging to Tahronen’s robes with its hind claws and wing claws.

  “Jaren tells me she longs for the company of other women in these final cycles.”

  The creature squawked and whistled. When its jaws opened, tiny white teeth lined the mouth. You are her m
other?

  “What voice is this?”

  Tahronen smiled. Before she could open her mouth to answer the question, the voice in Damaera’s head returned.

  All drakin speak, my lady, of a sorts. Many generations ago, when the great mage came to our realm, he taught us the common speech, but we cannot speak as you; only through this mindspeech, as he gifted us with that much magic so he could—

  “Jaren.” The firmness in Tahronen’s voice halted his explanation. She turned from the drakin to Damaera. “An unnecessary story; one for another time. This time grows short. Frendal will take you—both of you—into Eyr Droc. There you will find Istaria with Darius.”

  And the drakin, Jaren added with an air of excitement and a flutter of wings.

  With more patience than Damaera possessed for such interruptions, Tahronen smiled. “As well as the younger drakes.”

  Damaera looked from them to the dragon, which watched with a calm interest. They all trusted this creature, as did her daughter, it seemed.

  At least she would not have to go alone. Gayleana agreed to join her.

  * * *

  Tahronen watched the elder sister make her decision. After a brief farewell, Damaera walked with Gayleana to the dragon. They helped each other climb onto the broad back and settle between the spiny plates.

  With a care she’d not seen since the old times, Frendal lifted into the air. Memories of numerous warriors astride a single dragon drifted up from the past.

  Soon, the memories would be real once more, if the servants of the Darklord awoke again. Makleor did all he could to trap them, but mortal magic waned after thousands of years. It would not hold forever, particularly if Lusiradrol drew upon her full powers. Few mortals would see another day once the Darklord reawakened inside her.

  What is it, mistress?

  Tahronen turned from the vanishing speck in the sky to the drakin on her shoulder. No heavier than a bird, Jaren also stood no taller.

  Though the firedrakes used the drakin a couple times before to carry messages, she wondered now at the absence of Gaispar. “Where is the usual messenger?”

  Jaren clapped his jaw together and tilted his head as a bird might. I know not, mistress. They told me she does work for the mage. No more. I have not seen her for much time. I miss her company, as do my brothers and sisters, and wish she would return again, at least to visit.

  Tahronen frowned. She could conjure a seeing orb at any time, but if Gaispar carried out Makleor’s work, it might be prudent to leave her. Even that little bit could be detected by a magic user of sufficient strength. If Makleor sent Gaispar on an errand, he had his reasons. She trusted him.

  She would not risk Gaispar’s work. The guardians granted the shapeshifter immortality more than three hundred years earlier. If anything happened, the woman would recover quickly.

  Now, Tahronen could only wait.

  __________

  Calli

  Calli blinked, her eyes sore from the glare of the bright sun on the white snow. Jayson walked a couple strides ahead, breaking through the packed drifts. Scattered trees barren of leaves dotted the white cliffs of the low peaks around them.

  They had traveled countless days since the storm let up, after four trapped in the inn. Ellead had gone with Lauckney and Dougal, both of whom wished to join Marjan, and they’d had horses.

  Not her and Jayson.

  Exhaustion drained her from trudging through the snow. Her muscles ached and her head hurt. The drifts blew into hard mounds, which sometimes supported their weight but mostly gave way beneath them, too often trapping them up to their thighs.

  She wished for Duke’s surefootedness to carry her, and desired his company. The empty place inside her from his loss still haunted her when nothing else occupied her thoughts.

  Exhaustion had come on with a vengeance the last day, but it was more than the snow. Despite her fight against it, Calli sat down on a boulder sticking out of the snow. “I need to rest.”

  Jayson returned to her. “Again?” He frowned, lines of concern creasing the top part of his face, the only part exposed from the coverings. He pulled off his leather mitten to put his hand to her forehead. “You’re on fire!”

  “I need to sleep.” The desire to close her eyes, just for a small nap, overpowered her now that she sat. Keeping her eyes open proved a struggle. Where had her energy gone? Jayson already carried most of the supplies.

  “You’re in no condition to move, but you must, if you wish to reach your friend. You’ll find all the rest you need in Eyr Droc.”

  “I feel so tired, and cold; a cold from inside as well as out.” She yawned and slid down the rock into the snow, shivering. “A short nap; that’s all I ask.”

  Jayson scanned the rocky terrain around them. “Not yet. A little ways today, then we can rest.”

  Calli blinked her eyes open as strong arms pulled her to her feet. Willing her body to cooperate, she placed her feet beneath her. A supportive arm around her helped her regain her footing.

  She looked up to the light of hope in his eyes and continued onward.

  Although the winter travel proved difficult, the constant movement kept them warm. The sun helped with that too. The weather warmed considerably, turning much of the snow into slush and forming rivers of runoff. Mountain snows challenged them, although Jayson appeared to have no problems, despite breaking a path through the snow for her.

  How did she continue? The day blurred in her mind. While on their feet, they ate what did not require cooking.

  He promised to cook a meal at the end of the day.

  When the time came, they sat together before the fire he created, keeping each other warm and aided by a rocky overhang protecting their backs from the wind. With a full stomach and the comfort of his support, Calli fell asleep the moment she laid her head back on Jayson.

  * * *

  The glare of a sun peaking between crags warmed Calli’s face, and she opened her eyes. The fire crackled and popped. Still? Had she slept the whole time? What of Jayson?

  His arms held their blankets in place around them, yet he managed to keep the fire going. At this point, she would not be surprised to learn he used magic, but doubted it. Jayson took pride in accomplishing tasks with simple work rather than tricks. He told her once that anything worth having was worth achieving through one’s own hands, if for simple pride.

  Calli laid her head back against his shoulder, listening to his steady breathing.

  He let out a heavy sigh. Slept well?

  She smiled. “Very.”

  “One good thing of this illness; you warmed us both through the night.”

  Calli grimaced at the throbbing of her head and a chill shivering through her. When would the illness leave?

  After another minute of sharing their warmth, Jayson left her to prepare a small meal. They ate quickly and rolled up the blankets.

  For most of the morning they set a good pace. The thought of seeing her friend hastened Calli’s feet. She longed to share her adventures with the princess and to meet the man, Darius, who protected her. Jayson had told her what he could during their journey, or at least what he knew.

  By midday, the fatigue crept back with a pounding headache.

  “Jayson, stop.” Calli leaned against a steep incline.

  He halted and turned to face her.

  “I have to rest. I’m tired and my head hurts.”

  Jayson rushed to her side. “What is this? I thought you slept enough to go on today.”

  Calli blinked to clear her vision. “I thought as much too, but I cannot go on without a rest.”

  “We can be there in two days if we keep going. I cannot heal illness, Calli. You must fight it.”

  Hope swelled inside her, but not enough to move her feet. As if all her energy drained away, Calli tipped her head forward and closed her eyes. Just a little break.

  “Calli.”

  Cold fingers touched her cheek. She looked up, realizing Jayson held his bare hand
to her face. The cold woke her a little. She lifted her covered hand to his, holding his fingers there a while longer.

  Jayson muttered words she recognized from their conversations. A flash of something she almost visualized as an inner light ignited inside her. In an instant, more energy filled her than she could remember.

  “You used magic.”

  “Feel better?”

  “Much.”

  He gave a nod and pulled his hand away.

  She stood up straight. “Thank you, for whatever you did.”

  “A small part of myself to keep you strong, though I wish I knew what ailed you.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  Calli stepped forward, refreshed as if she had slept several days in a row. If that was just a fraction of his energy, she knew how he kept such a pace. But what of his warnings—would it not fatigue him?

  He never showed it if it did. Jayson unpacked a quick meal, which they ate while traveling. For a change, Calli was able to keep going without a rest, at least until her stomach growled.

  When they stopped for another small meal, the fatigue crept over her again, along with aches throughout her body.

  They crossed a boulder-strewn pass into a valley before her eyelids grew heavy. The shadows of night stretched from one peak upon the other. She stumbled on a hard mound beneath the snow but kept her feet under her. Jayson’s steadying hands caught her shoulders.

  “All right?”

  Calli grimaced, wishing they were back with the family where she awoke after the dragon’s attack. “I feel awful.”

  “It’s almost dusk. We’ll rest here.”

  Calli nodded her agreement. She could continue for a while, but wished to rest more than anything. Dizziness crashed over her. She steadied her feet to keep from falling.

  They would not move.

  “Jayson?” She looked down.

  He followed her eyes.

  “Jayson, my feet. I’m stuck.” Ice appeared from nowhere, securing her feet to the ground.

  Laughter echoed from the mountainside.

  Her heart jumped out of her chest at the insidious sound. “Jayson!” Her legs stiffened as the air crystallized around her.