Myths and Legends

by Sherry Foster

  At the mention of the dog, the scientists stopped looking mad and began to look scared. Sarian and his protectiveness of Merriam was well-known. Some said he was more protective of his niece by bond than even her own father was. Some of the tales, all of the tales preceded him. The scientists suddenly found that the only thing in the world they wanted to do was find Malory. Even though they had no idea where the young man could be, they decided finding him was more important, or safer, than staying in the portal room with Sarian, who obviously knew about Bowser. The men almost ran into Kirrilla leaving the room.

  Turning back to the sorcerers, who had not really put up much of a fuss yet, but had also not moved to find Malory, Sarian scowled. Then raising one eyebrow, he said, "I don't see you moving. Do you think I don't know who helped the scientists with Bowser?" Shadows began to form around him, and the sorcerers, even Timeron, decided retreat was the best answer—the only answer.

  As the room emptied around Sarian, he asked Irirnan, “Where did the other three go?”

  They are following the soul-thread to Malory.

  Sarian shook his head. “This is not going to be pretty. That boy is scared to death of Darian. What stories have they filled his head with, I wonder?”

  Looking at the portal, he told the two dragons, it really is beautiful. Did you see the other side? We don't have grass like that, or trees. Did you see the mountain in the back ground? I would love to fly across that mountain range with you, my friends. I wonder how it smells. Do you think it will make a new home for us? I love this world, but after three thousand years, there are not many surprises left here, not much we haven't seen and not many places we have not visited. To explore a new world… I don't want to lose this world, but it looks like we will. To be gifted a new world…”

  Sarian sighed, and motioning to the two dragons to precede him, left the room and closed the doors behind him. Looking at Irirnan, "If you would be so kind, my friend. Lock these doors." Seeing the doors secured behind him, he said. "Thank you, my friend. I think our next meeting with the sorcerers and scientists will be in our chambers. I appreciate your aid." He ran his hand down Irirnan's nose. And for just a moment, he leaned against him. Then he turned and walked in the direction he could feel his bond brothers had gone.

  Irirnan and Kirrilla watched him leave, then settling down in front of the doors, they waited. They were not missing a single moment of the portal. Irirnan had seen in his vision that the sorcerer Malory had a clue, but a portal! Impressions in memory stones were all Irirnan had of portals. Three thousand years could get pretty boring for a dragon, too.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Malory was a coward, he knew he was. He did not want others to know, but he guessed running and hiding was a dead giveaway. Better a dead giveaway of cowardice than just dead. Darian had been muttering “off with his head” at every single meeting for the last eight months. That was eight meetings, not counting today. This morning he did not open his mouth. The scientist kept moving in front of him every time he moved. If the scientist thought he needed protection from Darian, then he guessed he did. After all, no matter what Timeron and Kristien said, the scientists worked with Darian and saw him a lot more often.

  What did Timeron and Kristien know? They had been banished from Darian's presence for two thousand years. People changed a lot in that amount of time. And now they wanted to dig around in his head. He was scared; anyone would be scared. He did the only thing he could think of—he ran and hid. He did not know how they found out it was him. He did not want to know. He did not have very strong powers; he was just learning. He was too young to die. Why couldn't someone else have made the portal? Why couldn't they just figure it out. I’m too young to die. He did not even know how to make his shields hold yet.

  Maybe he should have worked on shields more. But they said the shields would hold against anything and anyone—except the Lyras. What good were shields if they would not protect you from the most dangerous people on the planet? Where could he hide? Oh great goddess, he was going to die. He sat huddled in the closet, trying to think where he could go.

  I should have just gone into the portal when they walked in the room. And the dragons, oh goddess, they were huge. I do not want to get eaten. What if Darian feeds me to the dragon? What good am I if I cannot make another portal? They would take my portal and then feed me to the dragon. I knew it. My parents were right, being a sorcerer was a life-ending choice. But I did not choose to be a sorcerer; I was born that way. Why didn't my parents do something about it? Well, something other than throwing me out when I reached majority. I am so scared.

  Was that voices he heard? Oh please, goddess, don't let that be voices. Someone found him already? Maybe he should have found a better hiding place. It was voices, oh goddess, it was Darian. Why couldn't he step through from one place to another like others? Too young, he was always too young for everything. What were they saying?

  Chapter Thirty

  "He is in this room, I can feel him," Darian told the other two. "He had a weak shield up at the door, and the door locked, so we still ended up having to step through from the other side." Darian looked around, "Doesn't look like we would have scared him if we had just stepped here; I don't see him. But I feel him, so let's find him."

  Darian motioned to the room they were in. "Look at all this stuff—does the boy live here or something?"

  Kane shrugged as he headed for a connecting room. He called back, "I found a kitchen and it looks meagerly stocked, so maybe he just stays here occasionally. It is not very far to walk to the Great Room."

  Darian was exploring the large room while Patro went toward another connecting room. Darian pointed to the items lying around the room. "This looks like more than just an occasional place to stay."

  Darian was trying to narrow down Malory’s location; the soul-thread would only get him just so close. Narrowing his eyes, he began to motion to the other two as he caught their attention. Once he had their attention and they had both returned to the room, he pointed to a closed door in the corner of the room. He could feel what felt like a slight shimmer of a shield. Easing up to the door, he casually parted the shield, and opening the door, he said, "I do believe we have found our missing sorcerer. Now what do we do with him?" he asked Kane.

  Kane looked down at Malory cowering on the floor. "I think you scared him, Darian."

  Patro, looking over at Malory on the floor of the closet, had to agree. "Yep, you scared him."

  Darian, eyes narrowed, asked over his shoulder, "This is who we are depending on to build us another portal?"

  Patro nodded.

  Darian turned back to Malory and heaved a big sigh. "Get up, boy, no one is going to hurt you."

  Instead of obeying Darian, Malory just shook his head and tried to curl into an even tighter ball in the bottom of the closet.

  Kane eyed Darian, "Well, this is going well, oh fearless leader. Now what?"

  Darian was becoming very frustrated at this point. Looking at the others, he muttered, "Big help, guys, you are such a big help."

  Reaching down toward Malory, who had begun to quietly cry, Darian grabbed him by the upper arm and heaved. Malory came off the floor in startled surprise, and before he could recover, Darian took one step and, with Malory, disappeared.

  Kane looked at Patro. "He could have said where he was going with the boy. That boy is going to be comatose with fear by the time we get there."

  Patro laughed, "But did you see Darian's face just before they disappeared? I swear he is getting what he deserves for how he exiled the sorcerers." Looking around the room again, Patro quietly said, "I bet the boy does live here. Darian made it almost impossible for them to get honest work, and with no experience, how would the kid live? We have a lot to answer for, I think. We should never have let Darian take it this far. His kitchen is so bare I don't know how the boy even eats." Shaking his head, he then told Kane, "Let's go before Darian makes it worse. I am guessing he stepped the boy to our m
eeting room. You go there and keep Darian from killing the kid. I will look for Sarian, and then the two of us will gather the sorcerers and send for the highest-ranking scientists. Maybe by the end of the day, we can have some answers."

  Nodding, Kane took a step and disappeared, while Patro closed his eyes and felt for his bond with Sarian, who… felt like he was here? Patro opened his eyes and looked around, and walking over to the door, he opened it to find Sarian eyeing the doorway.

  Sarian immediately asked, "Why did I just feel Darian step away, and then Kane stepped, too, just before I reached the door? Where is Darian?"

  "Uh, Darian?" Patro asked.

  Sarian could feel his eyebrow begin to rise involuntarily. "Patro, where is Darian?" Sometimes they tried his patience to no end, especially when they tried to hide something. "What has that idiot done?"

  "Idiot? Who, Darian?" Patro was trying to stall. He needed to keep Sarian occupied for long enough for Darian to calm the sorcerer. What was his name again? Oh yeah, Malory. He thought getting Sarian to help round up the sorcerers and scientists would be a good idea. Seeing Sarian's face, he was rethinking that idea.

  "Patro. Where. Is. Darian? Do not make me have to feel for him." Eyes narrowed, Sarian reached out to grab Patro's throat and push him against the wall. "Look at me. Darian can not be trusted with the sorcerers alone. CAN NOT!! Now pay attention—did he he, Darian, take the sorcerer Malory with him when he stepped?"

  Patro was attempting to pry Sarian's hand from his throat—not that Sarian was hurting him, just holding him in place, but it was the principle of the thing. "He is not going to hurt the boy, Sarian."

  Sarian began to lift Patro off the ground, little by little, "Ok, ok—he didn't say where he was going, he just took the boy. We think he went to our meeting room."

  Sarian looked at him, dropped him, and with one last look of frustration, felt for the true location of Darian, and taking a step, he disappeared.

  Patro looked at the spot where Sarian had just disappeared. "Yeah, I'll um, just, go get the the others, huh? Yeah."

  Looking around one last time, Patro took a step, and stepped out in the scientists’ main gathering room.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Stepping out into the meeting room with Malory, Darian let go of the boy and watched him fall to the floor. Shaking his head, he told him, "Oh, for the love of Shadows, boy, get up. I am not going to kill you."

  Malory just shook his head and curled back into a ball on the floor. Darian could hear him muttering something, so he leaned down to hear, "Off with his head."

  Darian was getting more frustrated. "Boy, let me tell you a story. Are you listening?"

  Malory was in his own little world of horror and did not even hear Darian's question. After a moment of watching the boy, he tried again. This time, he created a large ball of fire, and calling it back to him, suddenly caused what sounded like a small thunderclap. Malory jumped at the sound and looked up fearfully at Darian.

  "Now, do I have your attention?" Darian asked the cowering boy. At his frightened nod, he said, "Good, it’s story time, pay attention." Narrowing his eyes, he then said, "You will not enjoy it if you do not pay attention."

  Darian did not have the best people skills.

  Malory watched Darian fearfully. As Darian began to pace, he started talking. "Many years ago, too many maybe, I made what apparently was a tiny mistake." At his statement, they heard a scoffing laugh.

  Kane had stepped into the room in time to hear Darian's last statement. "If this mistake was disbanding the sorcerers’ guild and banning them from meeting while they were banished, I would say ‘tiny mistake’ is an understatement."

  "Shut up, Kane."

  "Now, boy, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted." Darian tried to continue, only to be interrupted once again, but this time by Sarian.

  "Oh, do continue, but maybe, just maybe, you could remember the boy's name?"

  Darian grabbed his head. "Oh, for the love of all the Shadows, can you just let me finish?"

  "Oh, by all means," Sarian motioned for him to continue.

  "Now, as I was saying, I may have made a mistake, and it is being brought to my attention that I may have been a little wrong." Both Kane and Sarian gave a bitter little laugh at this admission.

  Frustrated, Darian shouted at them, "Would you both just shut it? I am trying to apologize."

  Sarian looked at Darian in amazement. "You suck at apologies; you have always sucked at apologies. That—this—whatever you want to call it—is not an apology."

  Darian's shoulders dropped just a tad. "What do you want me to say? Give me a break here, I am trying."

  While Darian and his bond brothers argued, Malory was slowly watching them, while inching closer and closer to a table. When he finally gained the table, he slowly eased under it, and, hopefully he thought, out of sight.

  Darian turned back to look at where Malory had been, to see an empty spot. Looking over at Sarian by the door, he said, "Look, you scared him away, both of you. I had him ready to listen, but no, you had to step in here and scare him away."

  Sarian and Kane both looked at Darian in disbelief. Kane, who had never really taken his attention off of Malory and knew he was under the table, told Darian, "Tell you what, practice your little apology on us, and we will tell you where you screw up. And then, when we find Malory, you can repeat it to him."

  But Darian did not want to listen. He was also very good at believing his own delusions when it came to dealing with sorcerers. He looked over at Sarian, still by the door, and asked, "Can he step yet? He is very young; he should not be able to step, should he? Blasted sorcerers, he has probably been stepping from place to place since he was born."

  Sarian put his head in his hands. "Darian, he is too young to step, it does not matter that he is a sorcerer, he cannot step, he never got past me through this door, so he is still in the room. Go ahead with your, um, apology, if that is what you insist on calling it."

  Darian, though, instead of continuing, was now on his knees looking under the tables. Seeing Malory huddled under a table, he sat down on the floor next to the table, and, watching the boy carefully, he began again.

  "So, Malory—" pausing, he looked up at Kane and Sarian as if waiting to get interrupted again, but they were just watching him. "Malory, let me tell you a story." Hearing a snort, he looked up at Kane impatiently before continuing.

  "Years ago, when we were young, the sorcerers, for some stupid, insane reason," Darian started, but paused when Sarian snorted—after stopping to glare at Sarian, he continued, "Anyway, they started working together, trying to figure out how to increase their powers. My father was one of them. The power went to his head, and made him a little insane. He killed my mother and a few other people. As the Lyra, everyone is connected to us. We start weaving into the soul-threads from the time we are conceived, and as we age, our threads continue to weave to each person as they are born, and upward toward everyone else before us. By the time we are one thousand years old, we are woven into everyone three thousand years or younger. By the time we are three thousand years old, we are woven into everyone younger than nine thousand years old.

  If you watch, whenever you see a watcher pull the tapestry into sight, you can see the soul-threads of everyone in our race. We can feel everyone. Do you understand that? We feel everyone we are connected to. We feel it when they die. It creates an emptiness, a void where they were. We feel every single death, and I feel them more than anyone in the race other than the other Lyra. We will not stop weaving soul-threads into the tapestry of our people until the next Lyra is born, and even then, we still weave for one thousand years.

  So Trista's Lyra overlaps ours by one thousand years below us, and as we weave upwards, our threads become stronger than Trista's to the people above us. Trista is six-thousand years old now, and is woven into every person at least two thousand years old. Kervin and his Lyra are woven into the tapestry of soul-threads for every
one five thousand years and older. If I killed you, I would feel it—it would hurt. And it would bring down the watchers upon me. The watchers would not approve. Even we answer to someone. So you see, young one, I may hate the sorcerers, but I cannot kill you."

  By the time he was finished, Sarian was leaning down, reaching his hand out to Malory. "Come, young one, we need you. Even if this idiot wanted to kill you, we would not let him."

  Darian looked up at Sarian, "Do you think that maybe, just maybe, you could stop calling me an idiot?"

  Sarian just shrugged. "When you stop acting like one, maybe I will."

  Kane laughed—he could not help it—watching two of the most powerful men trying to coax a young one from under a table like they were trying to tame a wild animal. Darian and Sarian both looked over at him with scowls on their face. "What? You both look silly."