A Trail of Embers

by C A Kinnee

  They scrambled over a pile of rocks and settled on a sun-warmed ledge overlooking the water. Kieran divvied up the last of the jerky and a huge fistful of berries. After gobbling them down and licking the salt from her fingers, Meara felt full for the first time in days. She bent and cupping her hand together, drank deeply from the clear water. Shaking the lingering drops from her fingertips, she sat back on her heels watching Kieran.

  Once again, he was trying to reach his twin through their link. During the long walk, he had tried to explain the bond. It sounded like magic to her no matter how much he argued otherwise. She would never be comfortable having someone reach across the miles to touch her thoughts.

  “Why not? We do it.” The egg was fretful. She could sense his weakening.

  “But how do we do it?” she asked. “You and I share thoughts. You and Kieran, too,” she added.

  “It’s nothing. All dragons do it. We are great creatures.”

  Meara rolled her eyes. For such a small egg, he had grandiose ideas.

  Kieran opened his eyes and smiled. “They are close. The dragon stirs, but the First has cast a twilight spell that fogs her mind. We should reach the other side of the mountain in time.”

  She studied his face. The fact that he was so eager to be rid of her made her spirits sag.

  “From here the path climbs up into the mountain. It’s clearly marked, but when the storms roll in heavy fogs make travel slow.”

  “Fog?” Meara asked, alarmed.

  “Just fog, no ghosts,” he said reassuringly. The Liodon Sea is just beyond that mountain.”

  “Mountains, seas, corbins, or ugly Miandrogas—we are adventurers. Someday the musicians will sing of us.”

  Kieran laughed. “We have to finish the journey before we can write the ballad.”

  “Soon you will be back in your nest, little one. Will you dream of your travels?”

  “Bah,” the egg muttered and twitched. “I would give anything to be tucked into the fire. Your world is too big. I will not leave the nest again for a long time.”

  Meara smiled slightly. It sounded like the egg knew what it wanted. What about her? What did her future hold? Her smile faded. She was stepping into an unknown world. Even Murkwing had left her. The lure of the other ravens had pulled him away. Could he fly over the plain, or would the fog trap him in its web?

  Maybe he had found a place in his own world. The thought brought a lump to her throat. Bah! She was getting maudlin. She tossed her hair from her face and blinked the wetness from her eyes. Someday Murkwing would reappear. He always did. The white feather in his wing marked him outcast as surely as her own looks branded her in the walled town. They were both used to being on their own.

  “But you aren’t alone,” the egg said. “You cannot walk away from the bond. The link is forever. You look after me, and I watch over you. And the Protector—he is bound to us.”

  The Protector—Kieran’s tie to the triangle was as irrevocable as her own. She peeked under her lashes at his grim face. Was he dreading the end of the journey? He said that the theft of the egg was his fault. Meara thought the blame should fall on that First of his. Who would send one man to guard something as important as a dragon’s egg? And, he had found the egg again, so what did it matter?

  “I think it matters. If he hadn’t let them steal me, we wouldn’t be here now.”

  “Yes, egg, think how wonderful that would be. You could be bonded with the mighty All Ego listening in on his dreams of glory,” Meara teased.

  “Perhaps our bonding was pre-ordained,” the egg said grandly.

  Meara rolled her eyes and returned to her contemplation of the future.

  The trail from this point onward would climb upward, meandering through the trees—upwards—why must it always be upward? The air had cooled since they had begun the climb. High up in the mountains she could see snow. Meara had never seen snow so white. Snow in Vendonne was dirty brown and dull—slimy ice that tripped up her feet. The trees too were taller than any she had ever seen, taller than the broken ruins of Confluence.

  The massive trees, with their heavy boughs linked like fingers, made her think of the ceiling in the Waking Rooster. Had those massive beams once grown here in this ancient forest? Black moss straggled from the boughs and drooped to the ground like wispy old men’s beards. The massive tree trunks were warped and battered, the tree faces wizened and ripened by time. She studied the face of an ancient cedar. It looked stolidly back, its long nose made awry by the twisting of its bark. One eye closed in a wink. The face solidified to wood.

  Meara gasped.

  “Kieran, it winked,” she called.

  “What did?” He spun around freeing his bow and notching an arrow in one smooth motion as he scanned the surrounding woods for threat.

  “There.” She pointed impatiently at the woody surface.

  “I see nothing.”

  Meara looked at him in disbelief. “There, the wizened Grandpa face in the tree trunk.”

  He slung his bow returning it onto his back.

  “You’re tired. It’s easy to imagine faces in the trees.”

  Meara looked back at the tree. The old face was watching, a smile tugging its woody lips upright.

  “You have much to learn of the old magic, small one. Hurry back, we have a great deal to teach you.” The tree’s whisper stirred the surrounding branches in a gentle breeze.

  Meara bolted after Kieran and collided with his broad back. He stumbled and turned to scowl at her.

  “What now?” he demanded.

  Meara shrugged. “Nothing, you wished to hurry.” She peeked back over her shoulder. Nothing had changed. The ancient trees still touched the sky, their tips cutting through the low-lying clouds. She shivered.

  They had taken two steps when Kieran stumbled to his knees. His hands flew to his head. Closing his eyes, he uttered a deep groan. Sweat popped out on his brow. Meara reached for him. He sensed the movement and waved her away.

  Abruptly, he opened his eyes. His pupils gaped like black holes.

  “The Mage is here,” he said, the words flat and devoid of feeling.

  “Where?” Meara demanded. Whenever Kieran mentioned the Mage, a sick feeling crept over her. She didn’t know enough about the Mage to fully understand how frightened she should be.

  “He’s looking for you and the egg.”

  “But aren’t we close to your people?”

  “They’re on the other side of this.” He swept his hand out encompassing the breadth of the mountain. “They can’t help us. The Mage’s men are between them and the Mountains of Behrone. At best, they can distract the swarm. At worst . . .” His gaze turned bleak as all hope drained from it.

  Meara’s heart rate ratcheted up. Her hands were trembling, and she curled her fingers into fists to stop their shaking.

  “What do we do?” she whispered.

  Kieran looked as if he might not answer. He stared out at the rocky overhang in front of them. By squinting, Meara could make out a narrow trail cutting along the edge of the mountain. Sheer granite outcroppings had resisted the trees’ efforts to cover the slope. The sight of the vague trail made Meara’s spirits slump. More climbing. Would this never end?

  Kieran’s voice reached her. It was almost buried in the howl of the rising wind. The long-expected sea storm had arrived. Already the first fat drops of rain splattered them.

  “There is a way.”

  “Tell me,” she begged. The thought of an attack on the steep open slope made her willing to try anything.

  “There are a series of caves running through the mountain—”

  “No! Absolutely not!” Meara shook her head adamantly. Anything but caves.

  “The way is well marked. If you follow the markers, you can’t get lost. I will lead the swarm away.” Kieran’s voice sped up to drown out her objections. “It’s the only way.” Two steps carried him back to her. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. “You have to.”

/>   “No, Kieran, I don’t. I’m not going without you.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, mixing with the rain.

  “Meara, it’s our only chance.” His fingers bit into her shoulders. “Someone has to carry the dragon’s egg. That’s you. I have to lead them away. No one will expect us to separate. They will follow me.”

  “I can’t . . . No!” She scrubbed her tears away and glowered up at him. “I will go through the caves, but only with you.”

  “No. Don’t you see? This is the only way. This is what I must do. You must take another path.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her fiercely. She stiffened. Suddenly her resistance melted and she hugged him back. His heart pounded beneath her cheek. She closed her eyes. He was right. Their only hope meant separating.

  “You know this is what we must do. I wouldn’t ask it of you if there were any other way.” His voice rumbled under her cheek.

  “That is why you are the Protector.” The mutter from the egg brought her back to the present. “Now if you would quit squishing me, my nest lies on the other side of this mountain. Tell her the way.”

  Meara managed a watery smile. As usual, the egg had no time for anything that didn’t include him.

  Kieran took a step back. He didn’t release his hold on her arms. The touch comforted her.

  “The markings are old, from the time of when the cities fell. Makeion’s father, Orlion, knew that the war would break the cities, that their only hope of escape lay in finding a way through the mountains. With death stalking ever closer, they built a path to the other side. They left markers for the chosen to follow. You take the egg and follow their path.”

  Meara had never been so afraid. In the walled town, she’d had choices—the choice to seek out Shay Lann, or the choice to make her way alone. Now Kieran expected her to find her way through a mountain with no guide.

  “What about you?” Her voice splintered under the weight of her fear.

  “I will get the Mage’s attention and lead him out along the cliffs. I know these forests. Don’t worry. I will meet you on the other side. You’ll see the ocean for the first time.”

  His forced smile was like the grimace on a skeleton.

  “Listen carefully, we don’t have much time. Orlan and I found the entrance to the caves on the other side. We were forbidden to explore them, but—” he shrugged. “The caves were too tempting.”

  “Tempting? I hope your father beat you.”

  “You would get along well with my mother; that’s what she said. Orlan and I followed the tunnels, but the way was blocked by a giant rock fall. We were caught before we found the way through, but it’s there. We overheard the elders talking about the symbols marking the path.”

  “Kieran, I don’t think I can do it.”

  “You can. The caves are dark and cold, but there is nothing scary in them. We could hear the sound of water, but we never found it. I don’t know what lies on this side of the cave, but Orlan says that the tunnels are open. He told me where to find the entrance. Be careful of fallen rocks. Follow the markers.”

  Meara nodded. She wanted to beg him to stay with her. Instead, she took a deep breath and forced herself to calm. They had no choice. This was the only way.

  “Come on.” Kieran led the way through the dark stands of cedar until they reached a small clearing butted up against the footings of the mountain. They skirted the clearing, bypassing it to push deeper into the dense dark growth. Here, no light touched the forest floor. Gnarled trees forced their way up, bending to push past any obstacles in their way. Family trees, rooted in the massive boughs of their brothers, grew tall and heavy. In places tall trees had toppled. Others had taken their place, living on through the twining of their roots and branches.

  This deep in the forest, the ground was knee deep in mulch and moss—a dark green web of plant life. Kieran picked his way through the massive trees ducking under roots and weaving between snarled vines. Here in the heart of the old forest, it was silent. Meara felt small and insignificant. She felt her courage shrinking. Finally, Kieran stopped.

  “This is the entrance,” he said pointing. “Can you see it? The split tree—it looks like it was struck by lightning and lived to grow as two. See how the vines drop down. See the rapier ferns growing around the base of the two trunks?”

  Meara obediently looked where Kieran pointed.

  “No, I don’t see it. Where?” she said.

  “Not there. The entrance to the cave is tucked into the broken rocks at the base of the trees. You have to go under the roots. There—where it looks as if the tree burned from within.”

  Meara looked toward the base of the tree. The ancient tree had planted itself on the remains of other giant cedars. Its roots wound over the rocks, breaking the ground, bending up to link with the roots of other trees. The rocks were studded with thick yellow lichen and soft green moss. A wild growth of thorny creepers cascaded up and over the vines, climbing towards the light.

  “Come on,” Kieran said.

  He led her to the base of the tree and pointed down towards the darkness at the heart of the ball of roots. “That’s the entrance to the cave.”

  “Where? I don’t see anything.” Meara panicked. What was she missing? What if the caves refused her entry?

  “No,” Kieran said stubbornly, pointing at the puddle of darkness. “It’s here. Orlan wouldn’t lie.” He stopped as if wanting to say more. “I . . . Merdon, this had better work,” he muttered. “Step back.” He closed his eyes and gripped his amulet. “Adameo.”

  The wind sighed. The darkness of the tangled roots faded leaving a broken rock face before them. Etched into the stone was a tree in full leaf.

  “This is the symbol that you follow—only this. There are other marks that were made to confuse the armies of Darone. Be careful.” He closed his eyes again and muttered, “Amea.”

  For a fleeting moment, she thought the light spell would go wrong, but a flare of energy crackled through his fingertips and coalesced into a glowing ball. Eerie white light bathed the planes of his face. Kieran’s eyes were solemn and intent. He passed the ball to Meara, and she took it gingerly. The light surged and glowed brightly in her hands, no longer flickering and sputtering.

  “I didn’t know if the light would pass to you,” Kieran said in wonder. “Remember the sign. Remember the words of the spell. You must beware—”

  A ground shaking blast shivered over the earth as the sky lit with a spidery trail of cobalt lightning.

  “Go!” Kieran shoved her towards the fissure. “I’ll find you. Follow the markers!” He hoisted his bow and ran. He didn’t look back.

  Chapter 30

  Danger—be wary.

  Wait—watch!

  In the darkness

  pay heed.

  Translated from the Chronicles of the Egg

  Meara tumbled through the opening of the cave, ducking her head against the rain of dirt and gravel that followed her through. She landed on her hands and knees, and coughing on a curtain of dust, turned back to the entrance. A faint light limned the fissure in the rock wall. The light vanished as the heavy roots surrounding the entry snapped back into place, hiding the secret of the cave.

  “Get up. We have to go,” the egg urged.

  “No,” Meara said. The vast emptiness pressed down on her, and fingers of darkness reached greedily for the light she crushed to her chest. To Meara, the smell of the cave—dank and musty—was the scent of a freshly dug grave. She shivered and stumbled back towards the entry.

  “Kieran,” she called through the rock fissure.

  He was gone. She knew that—gone to face the mage armed with a bow and uncertain magic.

  She now held that same magic in her hands. The solitary glow of the steady white light emphasized how alone she was.

  “Not alone,” the egg soothed.

  The egg was trying to comfort her. Meara’s laugh turned into a panicked sob.

  “Don’t cry. There are ears on th
e mountain. The Mage is near. I sense his power.”

  Meara drew in a shuddering breath and swiped her arm across her eyes. The Mage . . . would they never be free of him?

  “In time, perhaps. Right now, we must keep moving.”

  Meara nodded and lifted the light. The walls of the cave rose up, forming a high arched ceiling. The surface of the rock gleamed wetly.

  “The cave is flooded from above. Look, water is leaking in,” Meara whispered, rubbing her hands over her arms. Cold air wafted through the crack in the rock and fanned the fringe of roots framing the opening.

  “There’s no water here,” the egg said.

  “But the walls are wet. How do you explain that?” Meara stopped an arm’s reach from the wall.

  “Water is the enemy of flame. I would know if the cave was flooded.”

  “I think you’re wrong. Look.” She slapped her hand against the wall. The surface was smooth and dry. She yanked her hand back and hugged the egg tighter.

  “What is this place?”

  “A means to an end. We must go,” the egg answered.

  Meara cast another longing look at the opening. Cold air kissed her skin with goose bumps. “I think—”

  A flash of brilliant blue lightning arced on the other side of the rock. On its heels was the heavy boom of thunder. Half-blind, ears ringing, Meara lurched towards the cave opening. Beneath her feet, the ground heaved. The quaking knocked her to her knees, and she threw her arms up to protect her head as rock and dirt poured from the cave ceiling. Another sizzling flash of blue shattered the darkness, leaving the image of the jagged entry dancing in front of her eyes.

  “Get him. They’re on the run! Watch out!” The shout was close. The sound of running steps pounded past the cave.