“Darek, I knew you would one day discover this room upon my death.
If you are reading this, accept these as my parting gift to you. My most precious books, the sum of all my knowledge. I leave them to you. Guard them well, for they are more valuable than all the gold in the world.
Take these treasures and use them for the greater good. Some of the wisdom in the more complicated texts may escape you for now, but you’ll learn it in time. Most important are the instructions to create new runestones and the dragon amulets. My magic will fade in time and with it the control of the dragons. You’ll find a list of materials and my handwritten notes on how to create your own.
I’m sorry we did not have more time together. Kraton knows I would have enjoyed teaching you everything that I know! There’s enough reading material here to keep you busy for a lifetime. I know you’ll figure them out, and if you don’t, well to Kraton with you!
Take good care of my solaricus. Each of the three weapons of power may help you against the most powerful of enemies.
A final note, beware of the dark arts. Such magic corrupts even the purest of hearts. I have sealed those volumes in wax for a time when you are ready to resist their temptation. Do not break those seals lightly.
Keep longtime foes within arm’s reach. Even dead ones have a knack of turning up at the worst of times, through rain, storm and fire. They live on in our hearts and minds. So it has always been.
That is all. Time is running short. Remember what I have taught you and look after my Islanders. They, along with the Council, are like errant children who’ll need your guidance.
For now, farewell, my trusted apprentice.
Agrippa, Sea Dragon Mage of the First Order, Protector of the Dragonclaw Islands
Darek’s face creased in sorrow and a wracking sob came from his throat. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand.
Bree appeared at his side. “I’m sorry, Darek. I know he meant a lot to you.”
“It’s just like Agrippa,” he said, “to teach me just enough to get myself in trouble and then disappear.” He blinked back tears. “What if I can’t do it?” Even as he said this, one of Agrippa’s lessons came back to him, which he mumbled aloud, as if in a trance:
“When the sea fir was still alive, it was like a willow, surviving for centuries by bending but not breaking. So must a dragon rider meld with his mount, as free as the wind, as liquid as a waterfall, yet ready to spring back in times of danger…”
He forced a smile, recalling the wisdom in the words of his master and the crooked grin on the lips that delivered them. Better to remember that valiant mage this way, with his sage advice and inventive spirit, rather than those last tragic moments at sea.
Bree laid a hand on his shoulder. “We all owe him our thanks for what he did.”
“I remember him telling me once when I was out training with Meira, ‘Don’t ride your dragon like a horse! You’re too busy fighting like a man—you need to fight like a dragon.’ He laughed. “I didn’t even know what he meant at the time.”
He shrugged it off. “I sure won’t miss his harsh training with the staff, or the bruises. Enough reminiscing. There’s work to be done.”
“Memories like these keep him with us,” Bree said. She gave him a hug.
Darek held her for a long moment, then he gave an absent nod. Passing eyes over the dragon amulet scroll, he grew more absorbed with every word. He didn’t realize Bree had left. The merest touch of the parchment transported him back in time, as if Agrippa were here with him. He imagined himself with gray hair, a hundred years old, trying to pass down teachings to a young hooligan like himself. The thought made him laugh—but not for long.
He glanced about. On the wall, under the flickering glow, he discerned what resembled an astrologia with vaguely familiar zodiacal symbols. The device sported a giant clock face immersed in a water-filled glass case where small multicolored fish swam as in an aquarium. Had the fish fed off algae? Fed off each other? Arcane symbols were inscribed along all points of the compass. Agrippa must have been able to track the paths of the stars and planets and divine future events.
On a table caked with dust, he noted various polished bones and glass tubes. Here lay the bones of dragons, bleached and sharpened. Several colored flasks, alembics, and vials surrounded a gleaming white dragon skull tilted on its side. Sharp teeth and polished claws, glistening beads, runestones, crystals, wands… all the trappings of thaumaturgical mystery made the eye dizzy with wonder.
To the side loomed a pair of dragon wings, real from what he could see, attached to what resembled a complex engine with wheels. The device seemed to be powered by dragon eggshells. A half-finished flying machine?—Kraton, but the old man had an imagination! A chill fluttered up Darek’s spine. Things here had an eerie, almost surreal cast, as if Agrippa had an alter ego, unlike the Agrippa he knew. Then again, Agrippa had been the one to teach Cyrus, though the old mage spoke little of that.
Darek wondered if the only difference between Agrippa and Cyrus was that his master knew when to stop, whereas Cyrus had sought power above all with no conscience. It seemed a thin line to walk between good and evil. He could see where Cyrus had been tempted and he must be wary not to fall into the same trap.
He saw some dried flakes in a covered bowl on the table and dropped a handful through the stoppered top of the astrologia’s aquarium, figuring the fish would appreciate it. They did, and devoured the sustenance, darting about, casting him grey-eyed stares.
A small dog-eared book with a leather-bound cover caught his eye and he flipped through the pages. The title read Nemestomis. His finger rested on a section detailing communing with the mind called, ‘Telepathy and Dream Magic’. It was a subject his master had mentioned. He could communicate with his dragons easily enough, but not with people. Agrippa had been the only one able to converse with him by mental link. The dreams he suffered were getting worse, as if an evil presence invaded his mental space. Could someone be using dream magic against him? He needed to protect himself, but his skills in that area were sadly lacking.
He sat down to read, his face lighting up with relief to see a section devoted to runestones. A set of ruby runes glittered on the table beside him and two dragon amulets hung on the wall from a stout cord. He could make use of those. For the little he knew of amulets, they could as well have been rocks from an alien planet. He knew he had to master the skill and learn to forge new ones to control the dragons.
For nearly an hour Darek struggled with the complicated art of runestone transmutation. Perhaps if he learned some lesser spells first? He recited several stanzas from Agrippa’s old phrasebooks while trying to understand all the nuances of the higher teachings. With sweat breaking on his brow, he bungled his way through old dialects and tongues of the mages in a time before cannons and harpoons existed and when dragons ruled the sky.
His vision began to blur. The strain taxed his brain and he realized there were too many things to absorb in one day. With care, he selected several of the books and wrapped them in sharkskin leather along with the runestones and the dragon amulets. Their secrets would reveal themselves in due time.
Darek’s mind drifted back to the stanza, “Keep longtime foes within arm’s reach. Even dead ones have a knack of turning up at the worst of times, through rain, storm and fire….” Why would Agrippa write that? What was the deeper significance?
He pondered the phrase, wondering anew about the mysterious figure who had assaulted him in the public square. He sat down and meditated on what he had sensed that day. The presence was so familiar—could it be…Cyrus? He shook off the chilling thought. With his own eyes he had seen the mage consumed by the whirling tower of water. But if the knave had somehow survived—all of Dragon Sea was in terrible danger.
He must make sense of these inventions as soon as possible!—master what spells he could, and take whatever steps necessary to ensure the safety of the Dragonclaw Islands.
A sudden voi
ce called from the gloom. Darek nearly jumped out of his skin. Bree had snuck back down the stairs.
“Don’t do that,” he hissed.
“Any luck?”
“Made sense of some of this lore. But there’s more than a lifetime worth of reading here.”
Bree gave a sardonic smile. “Should I start planting a garden then?”
Darek shook his head and laughed. “I might have a few sleepless nights ahead of me, Bree, but I’ll uncover what we need to fix all this.”
She clicked her tongue. Rubbing her arms to ward off the chill, she shivered. “It’s cold as a crypt down here.”
Darek looked around, realizing at last what was missing. “The forge is cold.” He added fuel to the broiler and squinted in the shadows. His eyes discerned a tiny pipe leading to a burner. He lit it with pieces of tinder, hoping for a flame. His fingers found the pressure valve and gave it a firm twist. The boiler roared to life; with it blossomed a small flame. “It’ll take hours to reach full strength—unless…”
He nodded at Bree. He pointed to three waist-high contraptions, squarish in shape. “Agrippa used this solaricus device to help it along. With a spell, of course.” A reflective shield of polished silver ran down one side. Was it silver? It seemed harder and heavier. The main bulk consisted of a box with tubes and liquids within the tubes. A short black rod stuck out opposite the shield, some kind of firing mechanism and here Darek tugged at his stubbled chin.
“From what I remember, the shield absorbs sunlight and projects a beam from this metal rod. The crafty mage used it like a kind of magnifying glass to heat the forge.”
Bree gave a doubtful grunt.
Turning back to the mysterious spell book, Darek held up a page to the flickering light and started to chant some of the arcane phrases. A foul smoke drifted from the nearby candelabra. That’s odd. He paused and frowned. “Somehow I don’t think that’s what Agrippa had in mind with this spell.” He repeated the last syllable.
Bree wrinkled her nose, waving the brown smoke from her face. “You must have misread. Try again.”
As he did, a humming sound grew from the ceiling. His eyes trained upward to the damp, dark stone. What in Kraton…? He repeated the words with more energy. “Annos Furor Marcheat Dracos. Akron, Vekron, Lumis Summaré!” The torchlight wavered and hissed. A sudden raw spurt of luminosity burst from the nearby astrologia—light in the form of a serpent’s head—ricocheting off the wall and igniting the forge in an explosion of flame.
Bree cried out, her hands shielding her eyes.
The blast had nearly taken off his head, but he had ducked just in time. “Kraton!” he cursed, feeling his hair singed. An acrid smoke curled in the air. Why had the spell taken the form of a serpent’s head?
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Bree quavered. “Maybe we should take a break.”
Darek paled and drew in a sharp breath. She was right. He could have killed himself—or Bree. No wonder Agrippa kept his magic guarded.
He mumbled under his breath, “Help me haul this piece up with us, so we can study it better in the light.”
They struggled to roll and half drag the magical device out to the landing. She peered at it with a distrustful eye, as if expecting it to shoot flame as they hauled it up the stairs. At the top, Darek summoned one of the younger dragons to help drag it the rest of the way.
Silver Eye and Winguard reveled in chasing each other around the ruined courtyard, nipping at each other’s tails while Seavenger circled in low arcs, admiring the sport. Storm watched from a distance through cautious eyes, not knowing what to make of the other dragons.
Darek turned his attention to the solaricus. In the daylight, the metal gleamed a sullen silver. The shield, if that’s what it was, glowed purple around the edges, its arc about two feet in diameter. Exposed to the sunlight, the liquids within the tube bubbled in the device’s core and it vibrated with an odd humming sound when he touched it. Darek stood puzzled. Bree drew back, mistrustful of magic items like this.
Darek waved a hand. “Let’s find out how this works.” He fiddled with the knobs on the side, at last pressing a small, shell-shaped button that seemed important. A greenish-red ray zapped out from the black rod in the center, burning a sizzling hole in an ancient column forty feet away. Seavenger flew higher and Silver Eye lurched back in surprise.
“Whoa, this thing is deadly,” Bree yelped.
“But useful,” Darek mused.
Bree narrowed her eyes, hands on her hips. “You could have struck one of the dragons. Ever think of that?”
“Sorry,” Darek murmured. “If we mounted these on dragons’ backs, riders could use them as weapons.”
“Or get themselves killed.”
Darek’s lips pinched in a wry grimace. “Let me see if there are any more down there.”
Bree gave a soft sigh. “Call me when you’re done playing with your toys. Silver Eye and Storm can round us up some good shoal fish. I’ve got enough gear on Storm for us to fry them up.”
“Good idea.” Darek jogged back down the stairs and continued searching through the many mysterious wonders below. He leafed through a dozen books, litanies of ancient spells and a seemingly endless supply of strange devices that tickled his imagination, yet of whose use he still had no inkling.
So engrossed was he that he completely forgot about dinner. He gave a silent curse. Bree would not be happy. He rubbed his eyes, yawning, having made no more progress than he had hours ago.
Darek stumbled out in the open air, too exhausted to absorb any more cryptic spells. A myriad of stars wheeled overhead. A cool sea breeze brushed his skin, forming goosebumps on his bare arms. He held the torch before him and made his way down to the beach, breathing deeply of the pungent smells of juniper and sea lilac. Bree lay curled deep in sleep wrapped in a blanket with Storm by her side.
A half-eaten codfish sat hardened in a skillet above the coals of a smoldering fire. Darek ripped off a small piece and munched on it, lost in thought. At last, he lay down beside her, glad of her warmth. She made small cooing sounds when he pressed his body next to hers and held her tight. Worming her way against him, she snuggled into his warmth. “Took you long enough.”
“Thanks for waiting up, Bree.”
“As long as you’re done for the night,” she murmured with a yawn.
Yet she discovered him gone and the pallet empty as dawn’s light curled over the sea, the pull of Agrippa’s knowledge greater than the promise of breakfast.
* * *
Bree returned to the workshop after the sun had warmed her bones, detesting the journey back down that gloomy passage, only to find Darek nursing a burnt finger and berating one of the smaller solaricus devices smashed on the ground. His red-rimmed eyes fought exhaustion.
She wrinkled her nose at the stench of magic-laced burn marks on the table. “Trying to make a volcano?”
Darek winced at the reference but he couldn’t help but chuckle. “All power is fraught with risk, Bree, so Agrippa told me more than once.”
She sniffed and laid the rest of last night’s fish on the table. “Thought you’d be hungry. Hope you like it cold.”
“Thanks.” He munched on it as he worked.
“Maybe I should give it a try?” she said with a sarcastic smirk.
“Might as well.” He shrugged, picking up a nine-armed sea star. “This starfish is supposed to be some kind of talisman to ward off magic. Perfect for riders to wear around their necks if they ever have to face a mage like Cyrus again.
“According to the Nemestomis, it also protects against illness. It’s supposed to glow orange, but the invocation doesn’t seem to be working. No whistling sound like it says in the book—” he trailed off, holding the crusty shape to his ear. “And this—” He pointed to the smashed shards on the cold stone floor “—is not working either.”
She watched him for some time trying his hand at the spell.
“You’ve a good heart, Darek, yet
I just hope your curiosity doesn’t get you killed.”
“What could happen?” He laughed, his face breaking out in a cheeky grin. “Magic, serpents, dragons, barracudas. Bring them all on.”
She turned to him with a look of frustration. “It’s not a joke, Darek, you know I worry.”
“All of the Dragonclaw Islands are depending on me. I can’t let them down because you are worried.”
Bree wrinkled her nose. “I’m no help to you here.”
“Jace said we have to stay together. No solo flights, remember?”
“Then come with me!”
Darek set his jaw. “I can’t. You know I have to go through Agrippa’s inventions here and see what can be used and what can’t.”
Bree struggled with her patience. “I hate being of no use.”
Darek looked away, as if guessing as much. “One more day, Bree, I promise. Then we’ll start back.”
She shook her head and turned away. “If you’re going to just spend every day with your nose in a book then maybe I should just leave.”
“Don’t you realize how important this is?” Darek cried, unable to conceal the impatience in his voice.
“Of course. Are you calling me stupid?”
Darek felt his temper rising. Why was she being so difficult? “That’s not what I meant.”
“All I know is we’re wasting time here instead of doing something worthwhile at the Rookery. You said yourself that the solaricus engines could help protect the Red Claw Islands. We should have taken them back already.”
“There’s more at stake here than that, Bree!”
“Fine!” she yelled. “I’ll leave you too it. Meshoar can help me haul the solaricus engines out, then he, Storm and I will take them back to the Rookery.”
Darek shook his head. “It’s not safe, Bree. I can’t let you do it.”
“Let me do it?” Her voice took on a dangerous tone. “I don’t need you to tell me what I can or can’t do.”
“Can’t you see reason?”
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