Embers at Galdrilene

by Audra Trosper

Emallya shot a stern look at her. “You will not touch the water. You will not even go near the banks.”

  Serena looked down at the lake, her brow furrowed. “But why? It would be wonderful to wash some of the travel grime off.”

  Emallya looked at each of them in turn, her violet eyes sharp. “Look closely, Foundlings, and tell me what is not right about this lake.”

  Vaddoc was the first to answer, “The lake is perfectly round. There is no variation in the shore line.”

  Kellinar frowned. “The sand of the shore stays the same. It never gets narrow, never gives way to grass or brush.”

  Kirynn studied the surface of the lake a moment. “There is a breeze today, but there isn’t a ripple on the water; it’s as smooth as glass. There is no reflection of the sky in it either.”

  Emallya nodded. “Nor will you find any plant or fish life in its waters. Not even waterfowl land here.” She dismounted and picked up a fist sized rock. She strode closer to the shore and tossed it out over the water. It soared in a smooth arc before landing without a sound in the glassy surface and sinking. No ripples disturbed the surface. The lake lay clear and still.

  “There’s something really wrong with that water,” Loki said, eyeing the water like it might bite.

  Emallya walked back up the hill and mounted her horse. “There is a small spring by those trees.” she said, pointing to a group of trees growing about a quarter of the way around the lake from where they stood. “We will camp there.”

  “How did the lake come to be this way?” Vaddoc asked.

  Emallya stared at the lake with a faraway look and said softly, “Long ago a group of people who lived to keep peace and protect were betrayed here with disastrous results. They were caught by surprise and the battle that ensued devastated their ranks.

  “Cities have fallen and risen since then, generations come and gone. Almost all have forgotten those that fought and died here, but the lake remembers.” She looked around at them. “Your powers are not yet strong enough to handle touching the water. Even when you have gained that strength the waters are treacherous. Your spirit can be pulled in if you are not careful. The veil between the planes of life and death is thin within the waters of the lake. In the aftermath of the battle, it became a portal to Maiadar–the realm of the dead.”

  Kirynn looked down at the lake, her every instinct screaming to stay away from it. “Why would we ever want to touch the water?”

  The older woman glanced at her. “If you touch it at the right time, things can be seen within it.”

  Kirynn shot the older woman a sharp look. “Cryptic as ever. Do you always answer questions so vaguely or is that just to drive us flaming crazy?”

  Emallya sighed. “When night has passed and the sun has not yet risen if you feed your power into the lake and can resist its pull on your soul, the past, the present, and the future may be revealed. It is treacherous beyond the pull. Only the past and present are set in stone. The future it shows you may never come to pass. A single decision can completely alter what you have seen. Too many forget it is only a suggestion of what may happen.”

  “I thought you said no one comes to this lake.” Kirynn said, feeling as if the woman left something important out.

  “They don’t…anymore.”

  Kirynn threw her hands up in disgust. “I give up trying to pry things out of you.”

  “I will tell you more when–” Emallya began, but Kirynn cut her off.

  “When the time is right...yes you keep telling us that. Since you aren’t going to tell us, why don’t you lead the way to this spring?”

  Emallya smiled and kicked her horse into a trot. They followed her to the spring. The water bubbled up from the ground in a small pool before it flowed in a little stream away from the lake. A small rise hid the still and silent lake from view. They unpacked the horses and after letting them drink from the stream, tethered them out to graze before gathering wood for a fire.

  Kirynn looked down at the small pile of wood and prepared to set the fire, feeling power building inside. She only meant to allow a trickle to build, just enough to start the evening’s fire as she had done for so many nights, but in the time it took her to gasp it built beyond control and flames burst all around her. It only took her a moment to regain control and put them out.

  Everyone was staring at her. She glanced down. Although her skin and hair were untouched, her clothing hadn’t been so lucky. She stood next to the piled wood without a stitch on. Kirynn rolled her eyes. “That’s not exactly what I planned.”

  A small smile turned up the edges of Emallya’s mouth. “This is what I mean about a lack of control. Sometimes it will do exactly as you wish and other times it has a mind of its own. I do have to thank you though for maintaining enough control to keep from burning the entire campsite down.”

  “You’re welcome, I guess.” Kirynn began building the power again. Her nakedness didn’t bother her. She’d spent too long on the battlefield, bathing with everyone else when they got the chance, dealing with wounds and everything else under the sun. Even the appreciative looks Kellinar sent her way didn’t bother her. Her body was worth looking at. She set a small flame and released her power, watching the fire grow as it happily licked the wood. With the fire burning well, she went to her horse and pulled clothing from her packs, thankful she had extra.

  While she dressed Vaddoc made tea. When it finished brewing, Kirynn drew the heat out of the fire and allowed it to dissipate. They sat next to the cold charred wood and ate a small meal of cheese, traveling cakes, dried meat and winter withered apples.

  Emallya sat quietly on the rise looking out over the lake. The sun finished its descent and in the full dark of night the still waters were an obsidian circle, spreading out beneath her resting spot. A full moon hung in the sky, though its silvery light didn’t touch the surface of the water and the lake lay as a deeper black against the night.

  She remained perfectly still in the shadows, listening to the quiet conversations between the Foundlings behind her as they settled down for the night. They expected her to wake them for their turn to watch, but she had every intention of keeping the night watch herself. Something wasn’t quite right. She could feel it on the air and knew they were going to need their rest come morning.

  She reached out for the Foundling. He was there somewhere in the darkness. He wasn’t far. She could see almost as well at night as she could during the day. He had to be on the other side of one of the hills to her right and she caught a faint trace of…another? Was that what pulled at him? It made her uneasy and she waited for dawn, knowing it would bring more than the last Foundling.

  As the sun slipped beneath the horizon, Maleena and Mckale found themselves overlooking a round lake, its waters dark and unreflective in the falling light. Maleena stared at the water. The presence in her mind stirred, a sad note to its hum.

  “We shouldn’t camp here, at least not near the water,” she said, her eyes never leaving the lake.

  Mckale looked at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Why? It would be a good place to water the horses and we need to stop, you’re exhausted.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t explain it, but we shouldn’t stay near the water. Nor should we allow the horses to drink it.”

  “They are thirsty. We have traveled far today and they deserve a good drink.”

  Maleena felt small threads of fear winding their way through the animals. “If you can get the horses to drink from the lake, then we will camp where you wish. If not then we camp away from the water.”

  “Agreed.” He signaled his horse forward.

  He rode down the slope toward the lake. The closer they got, the more his mount protested. Within a few feet of the smooth, sandy shore, his horse stopped and refused to go farther. Mckale tried to urge the stallion forward several times, finally giving up when the horse half-reared in protest.

  “Alright Blain, if you must agree with her, then you must.” Mckale sighed and turned
the horse away from the shore and directed him around the lake a short way to a level area between two hills. The horse complied, but kept his head cocked toward the lake, nervously snorting at it every few steps. As Maleena followed behind, her mount also kept a wary eye on the lake.

  Maleena slid off her mare. She slipped the bridle off, clipped the tether on the halter and staked her out. She pulled the packs and saddle from her back. The old mare was tired, Maleena could feel it. The poor, sweet thing wasn’t used to such travel and the past several weeks had been hard on her. She gave Arella an affectionate pat and left her to graze.

  They settled down to a meal of more traveling cakes, washed down with water from their bags. Maleena thought wistfully of hot tea, but said nothing. Mckale insisted on not having a fire for safety.

  The Kojen were closing in on them. Maleena felt it all around her as if they made the air ahead of them oily. The lake kept invading her mind, too. Something wasn’t right; the water didn’t lap at the shore. The lake lay in eerie silence, yet she sensed things within its depths and heard whispers of another time.

  It made her edgy. When Maleena finally settled down in her sleeping roll, she lay staring up at the bright moon. The light didn’t shine off the lake. Perhaps it wasn’t made of real water. She rolled over and stared at the black smudge in the night. The essence in her mind rumbled as if the lake disturbed it, too. She closed her eyes, but could still hear the whispers.

  Emallya sat unmoving under the trees atop the hill as the stars passed overhead. When the first hint of dawn faded the eastern horizon to a pearl gray, she rose and made her way down to the shore of the lake. The sand under her feet was as smooth as the water and she left no lasting impression in it. Kneeling at the lake’s edge, she reached out her hand and slowly lowered it. When her palm hovered just above the water, the surface rose to meet it. She felt the instant pull on her soul. She held it carefully in check as she allowed her power to flow in a trickle into the still lake. The more power she used, the harder the water would pull at her spirit.

  Silver tendrils formed beneath her hand, weaving together under the still surface. They glowed and pulsed with life as they reached for the center of the lake and its unimaginable depths. What the water might show her was only a possibility. Even so, she had to try.

  A warning rippled across her mind, interrupting the flow of magic before it was finished. She pulled her hand away and stood, letting the magic dissipate. The water settled back without a ripple. The silver threads faded and disappeared. Emallya turned and ran back up the slope and through the trees to the camp. She arrived to find all of the Foundlings on their feet with weapons in hand and allowed herself an inward smile of satisfaction that their training already brought them far enough to feel the warning at the same time she did.

  “You stay and hold the horses, Loki,” she commanded. “Serena, Kellinar, you two will have to hang back. You do not yet have the necessary experience with a sword to wade into battle with Kojen. If Vaddoc, Kirynn, and I do not triumph, take Loki and try to get to Galdrilene.”

  Maleena slept fitfully, her dreams filled with visions of fire and death all centered around the lake. Through it all she heard the low rumbling of the presence in her mind, almost as if the scenes troubled it as much as they did Maleena. As the dreams wound to an end, other images intruded. Images of Kojen creeping through the grasses near the campsite. The low rumble in her mind turned into a trumpeting warning. It reverberated through her body and she snapped awake, crying out to Mckale in warning.

  He already stood braced, his swords drawn, waiting for them to come. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, sadness in their silvery depths. The quiet calm in his voice surprised her when he said, “Run, Maleena. Run as far as you can. I can feel them and there are too many. I will not be able to bring them all down.”

  Her heart pounded painfully in her chest and fear coursed through her veins, but she shook her head. “I’ll not run and leave you to die.”

  “I will die whether you run or stay. I fight for your life, don’t make me fight without hope. Please go while you have the chance.”

  As the words left his mouth the Kojen burst into the campsite, appearing to boil up from the very grass itself. Their bodies were covered in sleeveless leather tunics and chain mail that left the blue-black skin of their arms bare.

  “Run!” Mckale threw himself at the oncoming beasts and disappeared behind a wall of the towering creatures beasts. Their curled horns and massive arms made them seem even larger. One horned head snapped back, its mouth open in its broad face as a roar thundered from its throat. The fangs in its mouth made her blood run cold. The odor of rancid sweat washed over her and she gagged.

  Terror weakened her knees and dried her mouth, but she stood her ground, desperate to find a way to help him. What could she do? Even if there was an extra sword she wouldn’t know what to do with it. Her cooking knife! Maleena pulled the small blade from the sheath at her waist. Her breath came in short gasps as she backed away, scanning the landscape for anything more substantial to use as a weapon. The little knife would have to do, but what could she do with it?

  The frightened whinnies of her horse made her turn. Blain screamed and lunged at the end of his tether, trying to get to the Kojen. She ran toward the massive horse, grabbed the tether as close to the enraged stallion as she could and sawed through it with the knife. Freed, the battle trained horse charged the Kojen surrounding his rider. The stallion grabbed the first beast he came to by the back of the neck. The creature screamed as the animal threw it to the ground and struck at it with his hooves like an avenging shadow in the half light. Dark blood splattered across the ground as the stallion crushed the horned skull under the heavy pounding.

  Blain lashed out at another beast. Maleena turned as her little mare broke her tether and ran like a whirlwind toward the lake. Maleena ran after her. The mare ran in blind fright until her hooves struck the sand. She shied violently, spun on her hindquarters and fled the other way.

  Maleena stopped on the shore of the lake and turned to look back at the mass of Kojen where Mckale fought. He sustained too many wounds. She could feel it.

  Several of the beasts turned toward her. The presence in her mind flared like a torch. She wrapped it around herself, feeling power grow within her. In desperation, she reached out for anything that would help her defeat the Kojen.

  Directed by the memories of the presence that shared her mind, she began to weave her magic into a complicated pattern. Power poured into her body. Not all of the energy belonged to her. Some of it came from Mckale. It rippled off him in a stream and flowed into her. More streams came from two women and a man who joined the fight. Who were they? Where had they come from?

  The torrent of power seethed and roiled inside her like a storm tossed ocean. Her weaving faltered to a stop. How did she finish it? She couldn’t see how to finish it. She couldn’t let something this big dissipate, it was too formed. If she released the unfinished weave, it would collapse into the Fates knew what. The energy of the magic pulsed in her and panic crept in at the edge of her thoughts. If she didn’t send it away, it would kill her.

  Staggering, Maleena stumbled backward until she stood up to her knees in the water. The lake pulled at her. The power tore at her soul, pulling it away. Pain seared through body and mind. It felt as if she were about to shatter from the intensity of it. From somewhere, Mckale yelled her name and the woman she’d seen in her vision raced toward her, shouting something Maleena couldn’t hear.

  She screamed out in her mind for help. The presence that shared her being echoed the cry and from somewhere in the depths of the water, it was answered.

  A deep call filled the air and the surface of the lake resonated like a struck drum. As the first rays of the sun breached the horizon, the water in the center of the lake punched upwards in a tremendous fountain. The water fell back, cascading off a huge, translucent dragon. Glittering silver in the light of the rising sun, it hung above
the water. Its violet eyes blazed with a fury that sent the approaching Kojen tripping over themselves in an attempt to escape.

  The pull on Maleena’s soul ceased. She felt the dragon shielding her from the effects of the lake. Power thundered into her body. The small streams pouring off Mckale and the others turned into rivers. A new presence–stronger, older, wiser–entered her mind and showed her the way. Gathering the rivers of power, she bound them together and wove them into the most complicated lace she had ever worked. When she was done, the rivers of power returned to their owners. The weave hovered in the air.

  Time seemed to stop for a brief moment.

  A shockwave, riding on a pure white ring, exploded from her in all directions with the sound of roaring wind. It slammed into the Kojen, turning them briefly into charred statues before they shattered into millions of motes that floated on the light breeze.

  Mckale and the others who fought with him staggered as the wave hit them, but stayed on their feet. It passed over Maleena’s horse and the little mare shuddered to a halt. Maleena watched the wave fade as it rolled out of sight.

  Complete silence replaced the chaos of the battle. Maleena turned to look at the ghost dragon, hanging in the air above her. She swayed. Her whispered thank you was lost as she collapsed, her body in the water, her head laying at the edge of the sand. Everything faded as dark oblivion reached up to cradle her in its arms.

  Emallya stood frozen, her eyes on the crystalline dragon. Tears coursed down her face. “Rylin,” she whispered, pain and sorrow breaking her voice.

  The ghost dragon turned toward her. The massive wedge-shaped head lowered until her gleaming eyes were level with her own. Emallya gasped as the presence of her dragon flooded her mind.

  “The Foundling is strong. Only great power and a blood connection could pull me here. For you and for the draclet she will bond, I will continue to shield her from the lake while she is still in it.”