by A. Evermore
‘I will have her!’ he growled, clenching his gauntleted fists.
Baelthrom had watched the battle unfold through the Dromoorai’s amulet but he could not break the barrier that she managed to put up around her. He could have done it, in time, but then the Dragon Lord had come. In his frustration he had very nearly smashed the Shadow Master.
So, a Dragon Lord returns. The last one. The heir to the throne of Drax. He knew it was the heir, could see the same air of the Dragon Queen about him. What he had to do with the girl Baelthrom had no idea but somehow he was with her, the one they were beginning to call the Raven Queen.
‘I always knew the Dragon Queen’s child had never been found. It must be him. All other Dragon Lords fell to me decades ago. Now he returns and seeks his vengeance,’ Baelthrom breathed aloud, staring into the darkness.
‘We will crush them, my Lord,’ Kilkarn snivelled from behind him. ‘He will be no trouble, just like the others were no trouble. He will be brought to heel like a dog on a leash and replace the Dromoorai he has slain.’
‘Yes, that is true, he will be no trouble,’ Baelthrom said quietly, though his deep voice boomed around the chamber. ‘But an heir to the Draxian throne is far more dangerous and could spark an unfortunate uprising.’
‘We will capture him quickly, my Lord,’ Kilkarn said, but Baelthrom was lost in thought.
It would not be long now, he tried to console himself, soon she would be in his grasp, the Dragon Lord would be in chains and the uprising would fizzle out with a whimper before it had even begun. Then all would crumble and fall to him as the last dregs of hope from the people were finally crushed. Then would his power be complete. He could wait.
He had already waited thousands of years; a few more would not hurt. But she fascinated him in ways he had not felt before. She possessed a power he feared and desired equally and she barely knew how strong she was. She could not be allowed to know her own power, that was certain. He stretched his wings wide and flexed his clenched fists.
He turned back to the iron ring. It burst into a cold blue light. Into it he began to map out his plans and viewed their potential outcomes in that watery surface.
Chapter 47
Duskar's Terror
BEFORE dawn the dreams came to Issa and in them a horse made of the night tore across a smoke filled burned out landscape, his flanks lathered with sweat and foam dripped from his mouth.
‘Duskar,’ Issa whispered.
He was exhausted but on he galloped at break-neck speed, running from something she could not see. He was looking for her; she could feel his thoughts, see her image in his eyes. The stench of death and immortals filled the air and clung like a solid thing, cloying and sickly. She cried out his name but a green fog swallowed her up.
Issa bolted upright in her bed covered in sweat. The soft light of dawn filtered through the shuttered window behind her. Coronos and Asaph were still sound asleep. Her racing heart calmed but the sense of panic remained. She was wide-awake and desperate for fresh air as if her lungs were still filled with that choking green fog.
The dawn light told her she had slept at least another ten hours - and that’s after sleeping a whole day before. From what she had heard she was not the only one who’d slept for a day. But still she felt weak and weary, the very thought of magic made her feel dizzy. She was stiff and sore and aching, despite having rested for so long and keeping Ely’s healing bracelet on her wrist. She pulled on some clothes, ignoring her aching arm and ribs and quietly left the hut.
Light grey clouds concealed the sun and a soft breeze spoke of coming rain. The smell of the bonfire hung in the air to remind them all of those that had died nearly two days ago now. The raven was perched on the thatched roof above the doorway, as if he had been waiting for her all this time.
‘Where have you been?!’ she scolded in a hoarse whisper, ‘I nearly died. Twice!’
The raven ruffled his feathers indignantly and looked down at her wide-eyed, seeking forgiveness. She spluttered back a laugh at how funny he looked, all fluffed up and guilty.
‘Some fearsome bird you are,’ she murmured, ‘and you haven’t even told me your name yet so it’s not like I can call to you.’ But despite the comfort of her companion’s presence the sense of unease would not leave, and in fact she wondered if it had ever really left her since she tried and failed to scry for Freydel. She worried that she could not reach him and now nightmares about Duskar set her on edge. She sighed and slumped her shoulders.
Can I not for once just have a day off? I need a week off at least and, who knows, maybe I’ll never be able to use magic again! Imagine that, a day to feel normal again, a day simply to be ordinary. I don’t even know what normal is anymore! Why am I dreaming of Duskar? Why has Freydel not contacted me? Her worry deepened.
The raven left his perch and landed at her feet, his shiny black head reaching up to her knees. He stumbled as he did so and his wings drooped with fatigue.
‘Where in Maioria have you been?’ she asked his with a worried frown. ‘Did you find the Cursed King?’ she said with a half-smile, only half believing it. But then Zanufey did not lie.
He began to caw loudly in reply and she hushed him to be quiet, not wanting to wake the others. He obeyed but ruffled his feathers again and hopped around in frustration. She knew he wanted to tell her something but she was afraid of what it was. I cannot ignore his message, not when he risks life and limb to bring them to me. She sighed and hunched down on her heels.
‘All right, tell me what is up,’ she motioned to him. He hopped eagerly towards her. She stroked his soft feathers and he immediately calmed at her touch. She focused on his dark brown eyes and reached for his mind, like she used to do to the sick horses on Little Kammy what seemed like a lifetime ago. His intelligent avian mind opened like a moving picture book as they connected.
There was green fog, dense and thick like in her dream. Dark shapes moved within it. Short squat figures with yellow darting eyes and grey skin, dark dwarves, Issa shuddered. She had not seen them with her own eyes before. Beside them lumbered huge deformed beasts holding the chains of slavering death hounds. Maphraxies, Issa thought in disgust.
Above them dark shapes flew in the sky, some very small when compared to the huge beasts they flew beside. Harpies, Issa recognised the awful bird women, and… Dromoorai. Her blood ran cold at the sight of them. They were the embodiment of terror lodged deep in her mind and even in the vision she felt the dragon fear knot her stomach and her body tremble.
Issa watched them moving, and there were many, along a path she recognised. No, it cannot be, not Celene, not my new home. She shook her head in denial but the vision did not stop and the Castle Elune moved swiftly into view. The vision moved fast and she watched in horror as their black iron weapons rose and fell upon those that had become her friends.
She let the vision wash over her as tears of pain and anger rolled down her face, it was too painful to focus on what the raven had seen and she couldn’t bear to see the details. She sunk to the cold damp ground as the vision rolled on. Duskar’s black hooves pounded on the ground like the drumbeat of her heart.
‘Duskar....’ she breathed raggedly.
Then she saw Ely’s silent lifeless face. The visions dissipated. The raven looked downcast and climbed onto her lap where he nestled and tried to comfort her. She stroked his soft sleek feathers and let her hair fall over her face to hide the stream of tears that she had not been able to shed for days.
‘Thank you, my faithful friend, for bringing me the truth,’ she said softly, comforting the bird, he cawed quietly, enjoying her touch.
Having heard the noisy bird Asaph soon came to her side, swiftly followed by Coronos and Triest’anth.
‘Issa, what’s wrong?’ Asaph asked kneeling before her. She looked up at him and he smarted at the terrible sorrow in her eyes.
‘Celene was attacked. They are all dead,’ she tried to keep her voice steady but the sobs broke through. S
he shook her head. ‘I cannot do this, I cannot be this. Whatever is expected of me, it is too painful, too much.’
‘Hey,’ Asaph hugged her, the raven stayed firmly in her lap eyeing him shrewdly but he ignored it. ‘I know, it is hard, I know. But we have no choice but to go on. We don’t know for sure what has happened.’
He took her face in his hands and smoothed back her hair. Her eyes were wide and lost, filled with sorrow and still pale turquoise-green from overuse of the Flow. ‘We can do this. Together. You and me, and Coronos and the karalanths. We have all suffered great losses. We are all in this together, we are all on your side,’ he spoke these things and all the while knew he was reassuring himself as well as her. It was painful, by Feygriene’s fire it was painful, but they had to carry on.
Issa nodded and sniffed. ‘I must go. Now. I have to get to Celene, somehow. Something terrible has happened. I must know.’
‘Then I will go too. We will go together,’ Asaph said firmly.
‘I must go as soon as possible, though it is already too late,’ she said, he nodded.
Asaph stood and turned to Triest’anth, ‘I think it would be wise to move the karalanths from here, it is no longer safe. I am certain they will be back and more of them.’
‘Friend, we are already packing. We started yesterday while you were sleeping,’ Triest’anth said with a weak smile.
‘Come, let us pack and go swiftly from here,’ Coronos said, breaking his worried silence. He turned and disappeared back into the hut.
They worked swiftly and silently. Food and water and the few clothes they had were donned or packed in a matter of minutes. When they left Triest’anth’s house for the last time the rest of the village were up and about and busy packing their own belongings in a similar silence. It was a grey day, grim to match everyone’s mood, and though the rain came it only fell in a light mist, which made moving about a little more comfortable than in a downpour.
Rhul’ynth, followed by Palu’anth, came up to Issa, both eyeing the patiently waiting raven curiously as they passed. Palu’anth looked drained and Issa embraced him silently. She turned to look at Rhul’ynth, saw the dark circles under her red eyes and didn’t need to ask about Fris’anth. A lump rose in her throat and she couldn’t even speak. Instead she opened her arms wide and hugged the taller deer-woman. The woman hugged her fiercely back.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Issa whispered brokenly.
‘It’s not your fault,’ the karalanth woman replied softly but firmly, ‘never think that it is. I will avenge him, it has ignited a fire in my heart that will not be quenched until I am dead,’ Rhul’ynth pulled away to look into Issa’s eyes. ‘Besides, he is not lost from me, I carry him in my heart and,’ she gestured up at a shy pink and blue Jay watching them from the trees, ‘his spirit animal is with me now. Life cannot be destroyed,’ Rhul’ynth smiled.
Issa’s eyes filled with tears and she smiled and cried at the same time, her admiration of this woman deepening. ‘Your words give me strength. But I fear even more of my friends have been killed in the hunt for me,’ Issa looked off into the misty forest.
‘The immortals will be coming for everyone, eventually. Now is the time for us to stand and fight. Which is why we are coming with you, for just a little way.’
‘No, it is too dangerous, I cannot bear to risk any more lives,’ Issa protested.
‘It is not for you to decide what we do with our lives,’ Rhul’ynth said. Issa was struck with the memory of similar words Zanufey had spoken, ‘and you are not responsible for the choices of others,’ she smiled warmly.
‘It is just you have lost so much already,’ Issa said. But there was no way on Maioria that she could reign in Rhul’ynth’s wild spirit, and who was she to say what she should do anyway?
‘We will come with you as far as we can,’ Cusap’anth added.
‘You cannot come,’ Asaph said, echoing Issa’s words and her worries as he buckled on his sword, ‘to get to Celene quickly we must fly and I cannot carry all of us.’
Issa looked at him wide-eyed. She had not ever considered she would be flying on a dragon, but then she hadn’t really thought how she would get there at all. It would be the quickest way by far. Cusap’anth considered this, clearly he had not thought they would be flying either, but he was not swayed.
‘True that the forests are infested with death hounds and foltoy and other abominable things but what if you meet another Dromoorai? You will be much faster than us in the air but we can move fast through the forests in the direction you are heading. If you get into trouble we will be on the same route and can help.
‘There is more to our plan for we intend to rendezvous with our cousin’s clan and rally them to our cause, to the Raven Queen, to the Dawn Bringer, to the dark moon, maybe even to the Feylint Halanoi.’ Triest’anth raised his eyebrows at this but said nothing as his son continued. ‘From there we will head further south until we reach the shore. Once there we shall await your return.’
Asaph looked doubtful but Issa began to see the importance of it. ‘He is right, we are safer if we look out for each other. We need as many people as we can get, if we can’t do this how else can we unite the whole of Maioria against the Maphraxies?’
Asaph sighed then nodded, ‘Karalanths really are stubborn,’ he muttered. ‘All right, we will meet on the shores closest to the Isle. I don’t know how long it will take.’
‘Don’t worry, I have my owl who will follow you and us,’ Cusap’anth added.
Asaph frowned but Coronos smiled.
‘They have spirit animals, a bit like that raven of Issa’s,’ Coronos explained. Everyone smiled at that.
‘Done,’ Rhul’ynth said.
Grast’anth came over to them. He looked tired but dry-eyed. Issa wondered how many battles he had seen and been in in his lifetime for he seemed a hardened warrior. He was followed by Diarc’ynth, a sorrowful smile on her young face as she watched her friends get ready to leave. Issa was relieved to see her alive and she hugged Diarc’ynth close.
‘I thought you’d better have one of these,’ Grast’anth said, holding out a wickedly sharp steel short sword. He sheathed it and passed it to her grinning, ‘for my favourite student.’
‘I’m your only student,’ she laughed taking the sword. She gasped when he embraced her roughly.
‘Remember everything I have taught you. You may be the Raven Queen to others but to me you are still my student.’
She hugged the big karalanth back, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall once more and wishing for all the world that she was indeed only his pupil. She looked up into his wise brown eyes. ‘You have done so much for us, words cannot really express my, our, thanks.’ He simply nodded silently and took her hands.
‘We will meet again, Queen of Ravens,’ he said and bowed slightly.
They picked up their sacks, the raven flapped into the air and they began walking away from the village. They headed towards the clearing where Asaph could change form and take off easily without spreading dragon fear amongst the weary karalanths. At the edge of the forest they waved goodbye to those that were staying and headed into the trees, the raven circling overhead.
Chapter 48
No Life Without Love
IN the weak candle-lit gloom of a cold cell, Cirosa blearily watched the dark dwarf as he opened a black box and drew out a small conical shaped flask made of thick blue glass. She lay on the freezing cold hard floor in only her under-garments. She loathed the way the dark dwarf’s yellow eyes stared lustfully at her bare legs and imagined the satisfaction of sinking a knife into him.
But the light in the bottle lifted her horror and filled her with wonder for within the blue glass danced the most brilliant white light she had ever seen, as if a firefly were captured therein. It filled the cell with beautiful rays that suddenly illuminated the tall black cloaked and robed figures huddling around her.
She jumped, the beauty of the light forgotten. Her heart began to po
und. She tried to sit up, but found her arms and legs were bound. She tried to think, but her mind was hazy and when she moved her head everything lurched. I’ve been drugged. What are they doing to me? She tried to remember how she got here, but could not.
The rising panic could find no outlet, however, and she lay there unable to move as the black figures crowded closer. She could feel their cold breath on her skin making it crawl, the staleness of it made her gag and long for fresh air. She tried to see their faces but they were hidden in the folds of their black robes. Cold sweat beaded all over her body and she began to tremble.
White, cold, thin hands grasped her mouth and forced it open. She was so weak from whatever drug they had given her that she could not have resisted them if she wanted. A cold metal funnel was shoved in place, forcing her jaws wide apart. She stared in horror up at the dark dwarf as he unstopped the flask, lifted it to his fat squashed nose, and closed his eyes, revelling in the smell of the elixir.
Her mind refused to believe what her soul shrank from. It is not the Black Drink, the Sirin Derenax, it is not! But the light danced inside and it was so beautiful. She caught the barest whiff of sweetness and her mind reeled with desire. Whatever was in that bottle was beautiful, divine, purity encapsulated and she wanted nothing more than to stare at it forever, to smell its holiness, to taste its divinity. And all the while her soul trembled in terror.
The dark dwarf lifted the elixir and poured it into the metal funnel held down her throat. As soon as he had done so he hungrily and slurped any drips, snorted any essence that still remained within the bottle. The metal funnel was pulled out of her throat and her mouth clamped tightly shut by those deathly cold hands. Other hands stroked her throat, almost tenderly, as they made her swallow the strange liquid. Then she forgot about the dark dwarf and the necromancers.