Legends

by Melanie Nilles

  Lusiradrol focused on the boy before her, insignificant in every way but useful for a while. The pest would be squashed like a bug soon enough. “One other thing.”

  Vahrik crossed his arms, all hints of amusement gone.

  How entertaining to watch you perish, little lord. Running her hands up the boy’s arms with her body close to his, she teased him into relaxing. How long had it been since Tyrkam learned to see through her seductions? Vahrik had far to go.

  “You may have your way with the princess after I have what I want.”

  After a moment to consider her proposal, Vahrik gave a nod. “It may work. But if she fails to come?”

  “Kill him.” She backed into the shadows, certain he would carry out her plans.

  __________

  Istaria

  Against a backdrop of gray clouds, Istaria raced across the dreamscape. Try as she might, her feet would not move fast enough to catch up to Darius. He faded from her grasp, calling to her in a voice growing fainter every second. She stumbled on something and fell.

  She continued to fall through darkness.

  Istaria snapped her eyes open to the quiet bedroom. The cold place where Darius usually slept left her with the same empty feeling as every morning since he departed with Jayson. Darius had manipulated her into staying while he returned to the First Realm. She hated him for that; but she missed him so much her heart ached.

  Tears welled up in her eyes. She reached across to the pillow and pulled it near, a poor substitute for the security of his body next to her.

  The child tumbled and kicked against her lungs and ribs, making her winced. Sleep would be slow in coming now that he was restless.

  You’ve all the right to reprimand me for such thoughts. She laid her hand over her belly, taking comfort in the activity.

  At dawn’s illumination of the objects in the room, she realized she would have to crawl from bed soon. Even if she could fall back to sleep, Gayleana’s cooking would draw her out. Her throat burned more often than not for laying down so long anyway. The fresh bread and fruits helped to ease her discomfort.

  At the thought of Gayleana’s baking, she swore her nose detected the scent of fresh bread.

  Istaria sniffed. Confirmation upset her empty stomach and alleviated the effects of the dream. She threw off the covers and made the ungainly adjustment of rolling over. The bulge of baby shifted to stretch her tight and make her gasp.

  Once her insides settled, she sat up with her legs hanging over the edge of the bed and untwisted her gown.

  The last image of Darius flashed before her, his panicked call echoing through her head. Could it have been a vision rather than a dream? She hoped not. That call to her had been one of pain.

  Was he in trouble?

  The dragons could not communicate over long distances, which was why they used Gaispar as their messenger. But perhaps the power bestowed upon Istaria by Gilthiel’s spirit was greater. Perhaps Darius’s love reached her despite the distance. She hoped not, if to deny the last images.

  If the dream was a vision of tragedy to come to her dearest, she would never forgive herself for not trying to rescue him. He should never have gone.

  Or maybe that was the problem and she was simply worrying too much. Fresh bread and a friendly face would help ease her mind.

  After pulling on her shoes, she waddled down the stairs to the kitchen. The moment she pushed the door open to enter the kitchen, she froze, her thoughts of Darius scrambling at sight of the dark-haired man sitting at the table.

  She recognized his presence, the twisted effect in the magic. The shapeshifter had chosen to reveal himself.

  “A fine morning to you.” Gayleana smiled at her from where she stood next to the brick oven.

  All worries about Darius erased. Istaria looked from her aunt back to the man as the door swung closed behind her.

  He watched her, his blue eyes haunted by a deep sorrow underlying numerous atrocities.

  “Bright morning to you, my lady.” His deep voice ground the words with fatigue. “Forgive my impertinence. I thought you knew.”

  Her thoughts caught up, and Istaria took a seat across from him. Her eyes never left the broad shoulders beneath the simple earth-toned shirt—similar to what Jayson wore—or the strong, prominent features of his face.

  You were the cat.

  Gaispar had sent a warning with Sethirngal about a shapeshifter sent by Tyrkam. His presence as a cat had disarmed her sense of caution. Seeing him in his true form brought back the warning of Tyrkam’s involvement in full force.

  A smile curved up lips beneath a dark mustache. He inclined his head in a slight bow of acknowledgement.

  “Decided to join us after all,” Gayleana said while pulling a lightly browned loaf from the oven. The embers of a fire glowed red from within, their warmth reaching Istaria. Gayleana forced a smile, but Istaria recognized the subtleties of her uncertainty as clearly as she would have on her mother’s face.

  The stranger sipped his tea, seemingly unconcerned.

  For the moment, Istaria turned her attention to Gayleana’s cooking. She knew not what to say to the shapeshifter. I thought I smelled fresh bread.

  Gayleana set the loaf on the table and handed her a knife. “I knew you could not resist.”

  Istaria cut through the crust to the soft insides. Steam rose from the end piece that fell away from the loaf. The scent made her stomach gurgle and her mouth water. After picking it up carefully to avoid burning herself, she put the bread to her lips and blew away some of the heat. When she could no longer resist, she bit into the fresh bread.

  “Feel better?”

  Much better. A bit of sweetness made her melt in pleasure. Gayleana had added her secret ingredient again. Istaria could have eaten the whole loaf.

  Without warning, the door pushed open. All faces looked up to Damaera, who stopped in the doorway, her hair brushed neatly and her day clothes on already.

  Damaera’s eyes froze on the stranger; her frown chilled the room.

  The man rose to his feet and bowed with all the grace of a courtier. “My lady.”

  Damaera stuck her chin up with regal poise. For several seconds she said nothing, as if considering whether or not to ask what they all wanted to know. A heartbeat later and still standing in the open door, she said it.

  “What is your name?” Distrust tainted the authority of her tone.

  The stranger’s eyes hardened, but he made no move. Istaria swallowed her mouthful of bread and watched the scene. Gayleana stood by her oven.

  The stranger’s eyes flashed with annoyance, but it vanished a moment later, replaced by something yielding to her authority. “My name is Galen, my lady.”

  “Why did Tyrkam send you?”

  Istaria stiffened. How could her mother be so bold? They had discussed questioning the shapeshifter, but this was neither the time nor the place for such an interrogation. Could her mother not eat without knowing? Did it bother her that much?

  Galen’s cheeks twitched. His eyes bore into hers but Damaera never flinched. Silence thickened in the air between the two in an invisible struggle.

  The embers in the oven snapped, breaking the deadlock.

  Galen took a deep breath and sat down again. “Would not a better question be why I’ve decided to appear to you?” With a casual air, he cut himself a slice of fresh bread and took a bite.

  Damaera crossed her arms and stepped inside the door, letting it swing closed behind her. “Answer both,” she said without further movement.

  Galen swallowed a sip from his mug. “I expected as much. To answer the first, Tyrkam had not to send me. I came of my own interest.”

  “But you work for the man.”

  “My lady,” Galen said and sat forward. “I work for no one but myself.”

  Damaera’s lip twitched but she held back whatever thoughts worked in her mind. Istaria had some idea, if her mother thought as she. The man circumvented the intent of her question.


  Galen leaned back and took another bite of the bread, chewed, and swallowed. “In the second, I grew weary of not using my true form, and wished to more fully appreciate the quality cooking.” His eyes turned to Gayleana, whose cheeks reddened. “I have not eaten as well since I left the Sh’lahmar.”

  Istaria gaped. You were one of the guards? I knew not that shapeshifters had the abilities needed. Only those with the ability to use magic were trained as the elite guards.

  His smile gleamed with a dark secret that made her back away. Something in his eyes sent fear rippling through her. The baby tumbled and kicked in response.

  “In general, no. But I’ve the rarest gift of any, my lady.”

  She reeled as if struck. You are afmajî serfeshâl! She had read of such persons in her studies in the crystal palace. Shapeshifters were an aberration of magic introduced by the neutral Majera, who had no form and could therefore take the shape of anything. Because of the non-gendered nature of the third part of the Majera, shapeshifters were sterile. Only a few were born into the whole of each generation as the forces of Light determined to make use of the gift. For one to have other powers was the most unique of gifts.

  Surprise flitted across his face before he regained his composure. “The dragons taught you well.”

  Istaria acknowledged the compliment with a nod, though he would never find out how she knew. The history recorded by the Unnamed One in the crystal palace had taught her well, more than any would know.

  She knew about the changeling mage. When a shapeshifter was born with other abilities to use magic, he or she could do more than take on the form of other living creatures. Galen, whether he knew or not, could take the form of other people, including imitating their voices. It was a forbidden rule of shapeshifting—they could only take their own in human form—but the rare mage could break that rule.

  They would have to be cautious, although she doubted he knew of his full abilities. From her reading by the Unnamed One and from what Darius told her, Haiberuk would not have taught him that.

  Darius. His face flashed through her mind. Not the warm, gentle face she loved but one of pain from her dream. It tore her heart out to see him suffer. She wished it was only a dream but dreaded the possibility of a vision, present or future.

  Istaria reached up and grabbed her mother’s arm.

  Damaera tore her eyes from Galen, the hard anger replaced by soft concern. “What is it?”

  Darius. Istaria took a deep breath and let it out to soothe the anxiety creeping back into her. I fear he and Jayson are in danger.

  __________

  Darius

  Darius licked his lips. The metallic taste of blood confirmed what he felt. One eye swelled shut and the shackles binding his wrists and ankles pinched. Still under Lusiradrol’s wretched spell, he could not move. He no longer felt the whip burns or the slashes from the knife or the cold of the stones against his bare skin.

  Through his good eye, Darius gazed at Vahrik, who stretched his fingers from the fist he had just used and smiled in satisfaction of the new injury he inflicted. It was as if causing pain was little more than a game to him.

  The young torturer had asked no questions. After the guards slapped on the shackles and chains, Vahrik took his time, starting with stripping the clothes off Darius, who was helpless.

  “A shame.” Vahrik wiped a shimmer of blood from his black gloves onto the armor of one of his guards as nonchalantly as if he shooed a pesky fly. “She said I should not kill you, when that is exactly what I wish. But I suppose she knows best how to lure the wench back here.”

  Darius’s insides plummeted with the realization. That was his plan! Worse, it was the idea of Lusiradrol! She must have expected Istaria to see things like the dragons did and would never leave him to suffer. Although she could control her power, Istaria was still no match for the dragon woman. If she checked on him, she would do all she could to rescue him.

  They used him.

  Darius groaned, praying for the escape of unconsciousness. The thought of what they would do to her sickened him.

  “Ah! I see she was right.” Vahrik straightened and motioned with a hand to the guards, who straightened at attention. “Then my work here is done…for now.” He left with two of his guards.

  If only Darius could escape and return to Istaria. Would she listen to reason? No less than the demands of her heart would win. It seemed Lusiradrol was determined to have her wish in spite of anything they could do, and he could do nothing at the moment.

  A knot tightened in his stomach, but a single ray of hope shone in his core. Istaria’s mother and aunt, both Lumathir, would realize the truth and keep her safe. They knew the stakes.

  A sigh escaped through clenched teeth at the stinging across his upper body. Perhaps the dragons would return with the end of the rain in time to rescue them and allay any of Istaria’s fears.

  He prayed she would not leave the security of Eyr Droc. He would not lose her and the baby, the two most important people in his life, but would rather suffer a lifetime of brutal torture at the boy’s hand.

  __________

  Jayson

  Only a few threads remained. Jayson let out a breath and shivered, chilled from the beads of sweat across his forehead. That no one thought to check on him yet was a relief; but each passing moment brought a greater sense of urgency.

  If he could cut the ties of Lusiradrol’s spell before anyone came, he could make his way to Darius and free him also, if he lived.

  No, Darius was not dead. Jayson refused to consider it. Darius must be alive. The dragon woman needed him to lure the princess.

  A disheartening thought cast gloom over his hopes of escaping. She had given Darius to Vahrik for his amusement. Istaria had every right to dread Jayson’s need of Darius. She would never forgive him for any harm to the man she loved, and Jayson could not blame her in the least.

  Another part of the spell faded. Jayson opened his eyes for a second to gaze at Calli again. They had come to rescue her, but at a terrible cost. “We will free you.”

  “Not if I have any say.”

  His breath caught for a moment; he knew that voice.

  Heavy steps stomped into the room. Jayson counted more than two sets of footfalls. Vahrik stopped between him and Calli.

  When the boy caressed the crystal with his hand, a new emotion burned in Jayson, one he had never experienced. It coursed like acid through his veins. He longed to wipe the threatening smirk from the boy’s face.

  “I suppose you’d be the companion of this one who earned the respect of our soldiers.” Vahrik leaned against the crystal with a casual air. “Or so she claims. I have no need of you. In fact, you’re as much a nuisance as her.” He shrugged and stepped up to Jayson.

  “Your loss,” Jayson said with renewed confidence as the weakened spell fell apart around him. Like dried autumn leaves, it shattered beneath the weight of his magic. He flexed his fingers slightly. Good. He had full movement again, but Vahrik seemed oblivious. That would work to his advantage.

  Malice flared in Vahrik’s eyes a second before he pulled his sword and set it to Jayson’s throat.

  “Do not mock me!” The tone indicated he had no intention of letting Jayson live, but Darius was the one they needed.

  An instant before the boy pressed the point beneath his jaw, Jayson reacted with a spell that would not allow the sword to move further towards him. As with his breaking of Lusiradrol’s magic, it came as if someone else controlled the power.

  Vahrik’s sword could not penetrate his flesh while he maintained the spell, but dropping his focus would drop the magic.

  Frustrated, the boy shoved it with both hands. “Guards!”

  Jayson knocked the blade aside with a swipe of his hand. Vahrik swung the sword in an arc, and Jayson stepped back out of his way. Guards closed in on either side.

  A smile spread across his face like a prod goading the boy to try again.

  Before Vahrik could, Jay
son cast the spell of invisibility and stepped back, out of reach of their weapons slashing and jabbing where he had stood. While Vahrik cursed his guards for reacting too slowly, Jayson took a last look at Calli.

  We will be together again.

  First, he had to find and free Darius. He would never forgive himself if the man came to harm.

  __________

  Gaispar

  Gaispar clutched to the ceiling beams with bat’s claws, watching the short-lived fight.

  A pity, she thought of Jayson’s reluctance to attack. You might have saved us some trouble. Besides sparing others the boy’s ill temper, killing him would prove more humane. When one dealt with Lusiradrol, she left them in pain and suffering. Jayson might have saved the boy from himself.

  Still, she found satisfaction in watching the young lord’s frustration when Jayson disappeared.

  Her only problem in contacting Jayson now would be finding him. She was not strong enough to detect an invisible Son’tal.

  Perhaps if she could find Darius…

  Darius!

  She fluttered from her perch to the floor and took the form of a mouse. No one would notice her pattering through the shadows and corners as one of any number of rodents.

  Since arriving ahead of the freezing rain, she had observed Vahrik’s dealings with the dragon woman and followed him to Calli. She discovered the two Sh’lahmar when they left their hiding in Makleor’s tower. A clever place to hide, since he left it protected from intrusion and apparently used a spell similar to the Son’tal’s to dispel any touch of outside magic.

  The revelation of their presence was short-lived, though, as Jayson must have hidden them both a moment later. Not until Lusiradrol neutralized his power had Gaispar found them again.

  Now, she could not follow Jayson, but she could sense Darius’s presence and followed the ripples through the magic to him. Makleor sent her to assist the men in rescuing the red-haired friend of the princess. If he had expected this trouble, she would not be surprised.