A Trail of Embers

by C A Kinnee

  The second one, she decided. If she tried to climb down she would likely end up sledding down the slope anyway. A fresh trickle of rock broke beneath her. She surfed to the bottom, landing on her feet at the base of the slide. A cascade of rock and sand followed. Coughing on the cloud of dust raised by the rock fall, she stumbled forward, fearing the slide could trigger a cave-in.

  Was the globe burning brighter or was the cave lighter? The shadows were more gray than black. She searched for the symbol and exhaled a breath of relief at the sight of the tree. She’d worried the markers were buried under the rubble. Now that she’d found one, she could move on with confidence.

  A slow smile spread across her face. For the first time since she’d entered the cave her optimism returned.

  “Egg, we did it. We—”

  “Shhh!”

  She stopped. What now? What had the egg heard that she hadn’t? Nothing, she decided. He was pouty and paranoid because she hadn’t asked him how he thought they should descend the rock fall.

  “What—” she started.

  “Mear-r-a-a.”

  Someone called her name. The far-off voice oozed over her leaving an oily sludge of fear in its wake. Meara shivered, hunched her shoulders and made herself small as she waited for the call to come again. The distant drip of water filled the silence.

  “Egg, did you hear that? Someone called me?”

  “Don’t answer. I feel great evil near.” The egg was fully awake, listening to the sound of the distant voice.

  She nodded, for once agreeing with his advice.

  “Where is it coming from? Who calls me?” Meara asked.

  “Put the light out,” the egg whispered.

  She let the light die.

  “Mear-r-a-a, come to me.” The caller was slowly moving away.

  “Is it Kieran?” She started to stand.

  “Don’t.”

  “What is it?” She sank back down and waited, resisting the need to rush forward in answer, angered by the egg’s interruption.

  “Magic . . . the Mage,” the egg replied.

  “Is he here?”

  “Mear-r-a-a.” The sound faded as the caller moved out of range. It didn’t come again.

  Meara stayed huddled in a tiny ball until her legs were too cramped and burning to stay still any longer.

  “I think he’s gone,” she whispered shakily.

  It felt hours since they’d first heard the voice.

  “Kieran said the Mage was close, that he accompanies the horde in their search for us.”

  Meara’s skin crawled.

  “The Mage’s power is great. He can touch your mind with his magic, control what you do. Remember what happened at the Inn of the Waking Rooster?”

  Meara shivered. “For me to resist, he must be far away,” she said.

  “I think it would be a mistake to meet him in the flesh,” the egg murmured.

  Meara laughed. “Well said. Let’s get away from here.”

  She conjured a new light. This one burned with a muted glow as if echoing their need for stealth. Slowly, Meara crept through the cave watching the shadows with unblinking eyes, convinced the Mage lurked behind every turn.

  A twist in the path brought her into a low roofed passage. A thick black shadow covered the ceiling. The shadow flexed. The movement rippled through the dark and conjured a swell of noise like the silken swish of a whisper through a crowd. A colony of slumbering bats covered the rock in a layer of darkness.

  “Little fliers,” the egg announced. “They mark the end of the caves. Hurry.” His voice jittered with excitement.

  “Hush egg. These little fliers thump you with their wings and tangle in your hair.” Meara was already pulling her hood up, tucking her hair under its cover. Dragging her eyes from the ceiling, she dropped to the ground and crawled over the floor.

  “Sleep, little bats, sleep,” she muttered under her breath. “I am not a threat.” She clutched the egg tightly, thankful he stayed blessedly silent. She knew all about bats. She had learned her lesson when she’d sheltered in an abandoned shack. The shack had housed an entire colony of the flying rats. The memory of the battering they’d handed out before taking to the sky still made her shiver.

  Luckily this bat family stayed largely undisturbed. A few stragglers broke free careening into the murk, but mostly she went unchallenged. Her bobbing light uncovered another sign and she switched direction, leaving the seething shadow behind. The cave widened. A dull glow beckoned. Meara moved faster, covering the rocky ground at a run, anxious to meet the expanding light.

  Fresh air rushed to meet her. Greedily, she sucked it in, scrambled up another incline and crawled through a hole in the rock. Ahead of her, the cave’s mouth yawned. The faint gray of dawn lit the gap. Night had passed while she traversed the cave. Had Kieran made it over the mountain?

  She silenced the questions churning in her head. Kieran said the First’s men were somewhere on this side of the ridge. Where?

  “My mother comes,” the egg said.

  “What!” Meara stopped.

  “I’ve called her. She comes.”

  “She’s sleeping,” Meara muttered.

  “She has awakened and burns the trees with her rage.”

  That couldn’t be good. Meara sat down on the rocky ledge outside the cave and extinguished the light. Thick, black clouds scudded across the sky. She felt the first brush of raindrops. She hugged the egg and lifted her face to the wind.

  “How angry is she?”

  “Oh, don’t worry. She won’t hurt you. At least, I don’t think she will.”

  Oddly at peace, Meara watched dawn struggle awake. Flashes of lightning revealed tantalizing hints of the terrain below.

  “Are you ready to find your Mother?” she finally asked. And Kieran, she added silently.

  The egg vibrated with the contented purr of a cat. Everything was well in its world.

  Cautiously, Meara stood up and looked over the edge. Below her was a heavily treed slope that dropped in a dizzying fall of green. Now what? She hadn’t expected to find a solemn procession of wizards bearing congratulations, but she had thought there would be something more—at least some sign of what to do next.

  She grimaced at the trail leading from the cave. It cut steeply down the mountain, then vanished. After all she’d been through, the trail looked almost easy. She pulled her cloak tighter, turned her face to the wind and rain, and stepped forward.

  Chapter 37

  Danger—be wary.

  Wait—watch!

  In the darkness

  pay heed.

  Translated from the Chronicles of the Egg

  The ancient forest offered its secrets in unexpected gifts of quiet glades and sparkling pools. The elders said that in the darkest hours ask, and you would be granted what you needed. It was a matter of opening your eyes to what surrounded you.

  Kieran didn’t believe things were ever that simple, but right now, sheltered by the linked branches of the thick cedars, he’d take the gift. Tucked into a dry space beneath a rocky overhang, he shivered and watched, wishing he could build a fire to chase away the chill. Doing so would be the height of stupidity, but he still wished it were a possibility. Being with Metreo had taught him that not all the Mage’s men were like Rahdon. The horde included woodsmen and scouts, not just fools.

  Dull light brushed the sky, but judging from the sullen clouds choking the heavens, it would be a long time before sun touched the land. Kieran hunkered down and watched the vague brightening as he tallied another day in his quest for the egg. The quest was almost at an end, without the egg, without the dragon and without Meara. The thought dumped his spirits lower.

  The effort of placing one foot in front of the other was a monumental task, so he stayed where he was and watched dawn unfurl. He blinked away a fat drop of water that fell from a tree above and pushed his hair back from his eyes. His fingers felt permanently bent from holding his bow at the ready. The Mage’s men had scu
ttled closer during the night, their foraging parties searching the trees, but he had learned from Metreo and stayed out of their reach.

  Slowly recognizable landmarks began to emerge from the gloom. The earthy scent of char mixed with the smell of the damp earth, making every breath pungent. He’d reached the mouth of the dragon’s land.

  Tenuously he touched the twin link. During the night, fear of the Mage had kept him from using the link. With the swarm growling closer, he’d been running like a mandagar chased by wolves. Now in the silence of the glade, he could feel Orlan’s presence.

  “Kieran!”

  The immediate response brought a tired smile to Kieran’s face.

  “The dragon flies.”

  The smile vanished. Hunching lower, Kieran scanned the sky for a glimpse of Shakala.

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “Closer than you think.”

  A thump on his right shoulder spun him around to face his mirror image. Orlan grinned broadly. “I thought you were supposed to be a scout,” Orlan uttered the familiar dig before they embraced.

  “There’s a difference between draping yourself in cheap magician’s tricks and honest woodcraft,” Kieran retorted, stunned by how easily Orlan had reached him. What if Meara met with such magicking?

  “Well, brother?” Orlan said.

  Orlan was studying him so intently Kieran had to look away.

  “Where is the First?” Kieran asked abruptly. “The Mage encircles you. He seeks the bonded one.”

  “This way,” Orlan said, giving Kieran another searching look. He started deeper into the trees, setting a fast pace over a barely visible trail.

  ***

  Meara slid the last steps of the trail and bounced off the trunk of a giant cedar.

  “Sorry,” she said to the egg. “It was steeper than I thought.”

  Branches, ruffled by her hard landing, snapped closed behind her, showering her with drops of water and trapping her in a leafy cage.

  “Merdon,” she muttered and lifted a hand to push the boughs aside.

  “Wait,” the egg said.

  She froze. She had stopped asking questions when the egg sensed danger.

  “Merdon! Perdu! I should be in town. This forest is fit for none but stinking Miandrogas.”

  Meara dropped to the ground, hidden in her bower of trees. Someone was coming, limping heavily, stumbling up the rough trail. Whoever it was carried a thick stick that they used to slash the brush. Still, cursing, the interloper whacked the foliage over Meara’s head and stumbled past her hiding spot.

  Carefully Meara hooked a finger around the branch in front of her face, moving it slightly to create a leafy peephole. Shocked, she let go of the branch. It sprung back into place sending a tiny tremble through the bought. Rahdon! Her face wrinkled in distaste. How had he survived the anger of the ancient ruined city?

  Easing back from the screen of branches, Meara forced herself to quiet the sound of her breathing. She touched the pocket of her cloak and felt the outline of the knife Kieran had given her. Even armed with the lethal little blade, she was no match for the mage’s man. She had to protect the egg, if she didn’t—”

  “You have done well to reach me so quickly. Tell me of your travels.”

  Her head jerked. Her heart stuttered and pounded in her ears. The soft voice reached inside of her, eroded her will and stole her secrets.

  “Have you found the girl?” the voice continued.

  The soft tones twisted her thoughts. Meara began to stand.

  “Fight it,” the egg whispered urgently.

  “Fight what?” Meara smiled vacantly. She shifted one foot.

  “FIGHT!”

  The egg’s voice was like the distressed scrambling of moth wings against a window.

  “Reach inside. It’s an illusion. It’s the Mage, but he calls the other, not you,” the egg screamed in her ear, desperate to make her listen.

  Sweat popped out on Meara’s forehead. It trickled down her face. She shook her head, trying to clear the fuzziness from her thoughts. She could hear the egg, but the pull of the voice was stronger. It demanded she yield to its power.

  “Please,” the egg pleaded.

  Meara stopped. The egg’s desperation trickled through the fog.

  “The Mage doesn’t know you are here. Fight him.”

  Meara nodded. Fight . . . fight the pull of magic.

  The egg’s shell warmed to a burning heat.

  “Close your mind to him.” The egg’s voice was louder, overcoming the mesmerizing power of the Mage’s words.

  Meara nodded again, slowly. She licked her dry lips and blinked. Yes, fight. Resist the command of the Mage’s call. At the inn, she had yielded to its power. She would have told him anything. If Kieran hadn’t pushed the barmaid, she would have handed the egg over to him.

  The egg’s weight burned in her arms. The heat distracted her. It cleared her mind and pushed away the need to obey. With a shaking hand, she carefully parted the branches and peeked through the hole. Now she could see the man next to Rahdon clearly. He looked nothing like the old man from the inn. Still wrapped in the pitch-black cloak she remembered, he was taller, towering over his follower. He was like a menacing shadow on a sunless day. Was this the Mage? She shivered.

  “I have watched the way for you. No one has passed. No one.” Rahdon bowed and bobbed.

  The man sent him a long searching look before sweeping his eyes over the forest.

  Meara’s blood chilled as his gaze slid past her hiding place. The yellow flames of his eyes burned like candles. Long white-blonde hair framed a face as hard and cold as granite.

  “Close your mind, Meara,” the egg said.

  Its egg’s shell cooled under her fingers. Meara closed her eyes and tried to think of nothing.

  The Mage continued, “You did well, Rahdon. And the giant . . ?”

  “Taken care of.” Rahdon fawned again. His hands writhed like snakes in front of his body.

  “You will continue to watch. If you see anyone, you will send forth fire to alert me.” The smile the Mage gave his henchman was devoid of any feeling.

  Shards of ice slid down Meara’s spine.

  He is coming. The memory of the words returned. In her mind, she saw the golden woman again. She heard her desperate cry. RUN. Meara shook her head, suddenly dizzy.

  Rahdon settled onto the path like a dutiful dog awaiting his master’s return. The Mage, if he truly was the Mage, watched for a moment before turning and continuing down the trail.

  Chewing her lip in worry, Meara peered out at the trail. It looked as though she would be trapped in her jail of branches for a while. The heavy rain had no effect on Rahdon. He sat like a statue, water pooling in his cloak, a foolish smile tilting his mouth.

  Meara tipped the bough further, trying see further up the narrow path through the trees. Why bother? As long as Rahdon sat there, the trail would be tantalizingly out of reach.

  Behind her, the branches stirred. Hard hands grasped her, one over her mouth, the other around her middle. She fell back, colliding with a broad chest.

  Flailing against the tight grip, she looked up at the black and white face looming above. One eyelid twitched in the suggestion of a wink. The silent message stilled her struggles. Metreo backed carefully from the foliage and straightened on the other side of the tree. Waving her to silence, he beckoned her to follow.

  Chapter 38

  Danger—be wary.

  Wait—watch!

  In the darkness

  pay heed.

  Translated from the Chronicles of the Egg

  Orlan set a fast pace through the brush. Kieran followed silently. They didn’t need words. Orlan knew his worry. He would lead him to the First quickly. Soundlessly, they passed through the trees, skirting streams and circling past standing stones. At last, they reached a narrow clearing hemmed in by a pile of ancient rocks. The stones gleamed dully in the dim light, their surfaces scoured satiny smooth by the
passage of time. The soft gray cloaks of the men surrounding the First blended with the stones.

  Alion, First Council of Helligon looked grimmer than usual, the hand holding his staff revealed the only sign of his tension. His knuckles shone white against the rich chocolate-brown of the wood.

  Unlike the Mage and his swarm of mercenaries and fanatics, the people of the forest travelled and fought in small bands, each member an expert in weaponry and stealth. The swarm’s passage through the forest sent birds bursting from the trees. Helligon’s people moved in silence, gathering information as they went. It was beyond Kieran’s imagination to believe the swarm could encircle them. If it weren’t for Metreo’s word he would discard the news as the raving of a lunatic.

  The First glanced up and his gray eyes swept his renegade scout. They softened momentarily and then hardened back to stone. Slowly, he stepped away from the clustered men.

  “The Dragon flies and the Mage tries his hand at hunting us. What news do you bring?”

  Kieran paused. As usual, he was tongue-tied in the presence of the First Council. He felt the weight of all eyes watching him, measuring him.

  No. His resolve hardened. The First had to hear about Meara, not listen to his apologies. Excuses would bog them down and put her at greater risk.

  “The egg has bonded. The Keeper brings it to the dragon. We were forced to separate at the caves.” His words spilled out in a rush to explain his decision to send Meara on alone while he led the swarm from her trail. The part about Metreo slowed him down, and he stumbled a little over the explanation.

  “Metreo said the Mage seeks Meara, the girl from the walled town. He said she is more important than the egg itself.”

  “More important! Boy, your brain was addled by your time in the forest. You—”

  The First raised his hand and cut Daalean’s diatribe short. The short red-headed scout watched Kieran, ready to pounce on his next words.