The inn’s interior was similar to the exterior, log walls and posts and exposed beams. There was no bar and fewer than a dozen tables, only three of which were occupied. A rock fireplace covered half the wall at the far end of the dining room, a flickering fire burning in the arched opening.
“Everyone find a seat. I will speak with the owner,” Salvon said before disappearing through a door at the rear of the room.
The tables were small, so Jace and Rhoa pushed two together, creating enough seating for seven. For how good it had felt to stretch her legs, Narine was surprised at the relief of sitting in a chair. She had never realized how tiring it was to ride for long periods of time.
Salvon reappeared, followed by a short, balding man with a thick beard. Salvon introduced him as Humberto, the owner of the inn. He was a middle-aged man with a large stomach, his tunic stretched to contain it. Walking with one hand against his lower back, the man led them toward the rear of the building. There were four rooms and only one was occupied. Salvon had procured the remaining three for the evening – the largest of which was for the women, another for Rawk and Algoron, the last for him and Jace.
After storing their things, the group returned to the dining hall and sat in quiet conversation while waiting for their meals. The other tables emptied soon afterward, one couple retiring to their room, the others leaving out the front door.
Alone in the dining hall, Rhoa leaned toward Salvon. “When we saw that thing in the sky, you mentioned a shift in magic. What does it mean?”
The old man smiled. “You were always a clever girl.”
He ran his hand down his beard, his eyes narrowed as if seeking the right words. Everyone watched, waiting. The crackling fire was the only sound in the room.
After a full minute of contemplation, Salvon replied. “Think on this… The world is run by wizard lords, each with the power of a god. There are only eight wizardoms, so eight men of such power. Their magic greatly outstrips ordinary wizards, of which there are not so many.” He looked at Narine. “How many wizards would you say live in all of Ghealdor?”
She frowned and considered what she knew. “There can be no more than fifty adult wizards and wizardesses in Fastella, likely half the population for the entire wizardom.”
Salvon nodded. “Exactly.”
Jace rolled his eyes. “You do enjoy riddles, don’t you? Are you going to explain yourself, or do you expect us to guess at what comes next?”
The storyteller chuckled. “Very well. What has occurred over the past few weeks?”
Rhoa replied, “Taladain died.”
“So did Malvorian,” Adyn added.
“Precisely,” Salvon said.
Narine gasped at the realization. “The death of a wizard lord is a rare thing. Two dying in such a short period of time is unprecedented.”
Salvon added, “The full Darkening in Marquithe won’t occur for another five days. Until then, a new wizard lord cannot be crowned. Worse, it will be many weeks before the next Darkening returns in Fastella.” His gaze swept across the faces at the table. “With the power a wizard lord holds and two thrones empty at the same time, wouldn’t it alter the balance of magic in the world?”
Narine nodded. The man had a point. Devotion had ceased in Ghealdor and Farrowen, the flow of magic reduced from a river to a trickle. She had never considered the consequences of such a shift.
The owner of the inn, along with a woman Narine guessed was his wife, entered the room. One carried a tray filled with meat pies, the other a pitcher of water and a steaming pitcher of gravy. The couple served them, placing a gravy-covered pie before each seat, then left the room. Normally, an entire pie was more food than Narine could consume, but not on this day. She and everyone else ate with fervor, nobody speaking until their plates were cleaned. Sated, she leaned back and stared into the fire.
Less than a season ago, Narine had been a student at the University in Tiadd, training to become a master wizardess. She had structure, a goal to pursue. The goal had been achieved, and she returned to Fastella. That was where things had begun to spin out of control.
Caught between her distant father and power-hungry brother, Narine had found herself trapped in a dangerous situation. She wondered what might have happened had her father not been killed. Worse, she feared what her brother would have done to her if she had not fled the city.
What will he do if the Farrowen Army attacks Fastella? What of the citizens? How many will die?
She was concerned for her city and her people, fearful of what might happen should Fastella fall. Worse, she wondered what would happen should her brother rise to the throne.
“Are you all right?”
Narine blinked and turned toward Jace. He placed his hand on hers. She looked around and noticed only he and Adyn remained, the others heading toward the rooms at the back of the inn.
“Yes.” She shrugged. “I was just thinking.”
“You’re concerned about the Ghealdan Army,” Adyn said knowingly.
“I am. I worry that many innocents will die in this power struggle – caught between the Farrowen Army and my brother.”
“Fair assumption.” Jace said. “From what I have seen, rulers put little thought into how their actions affect others.”
Adyn snorted. “You are a thief. Don’t your actions affect others?”
“There are rules in my profession. A Thieves Guild without guidelines is doomed, sure to draw the ire of the city rather than existing in harmony. Wizard lords don’t have such concerns. They do what they want to whom they wish, and none of us can do anything about it.”
Narine turned back to the fire, staring into it as she spoke. “I believe such thinking is what ruined my father. As well as years of loss. Seven wives, twenty-six children, and countless others passed through his life and died, leaving him with only memories. Perhaps men weren’t meant to live so long. Perhaps they lose their humanity, squeezed by human suffering on one side and the lure of unlimited, unchallenged power on the other.”
Jace squeezed her hand, drawing her attention. “Would you care to go for a stroll? Perhaps some fresh air before bed will help clear away those heavy concerns.”
Narine glanced toward Adyn, seeing her smirking. Arching a brow, Narine asked, “No objections?”
“From me?” Adyn said. “Why would I object?”
Narine snorted. “You rarely allow me out of your sight.”
“You are a master wizardess and can take care of yourself. Isn’t that what you tell me?”
“Yes, but…” Narine’s gaze flicked to Jace, then back to Adyn. “It wasn’t long ago you would watch Jace as if he were a wolf about to raid a henhouse.”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
“Before I grew to like him.”
Jace smiled. “You like me?”
“You have your faults, but you did save us from Charcoan’s men back in Starmuth and have proven your integrity multiple times since.”
A hurt look appeared on his face. “You take that back.”
Adyn laughed and stood. “You two enjoy yourself. With all the craziness happening in the world, you had best grab a bit of happiness while you can.”
The bodyguard turned and walked away, leaving Narine alone with Jace. She felt nervous sweat trickle down her ribs. Her heart began racing, her breath increasing.
He stood and pulled her to her feet, taking her hand and leading her toward the front door, Narine following in a daze.
It was quiet outside, the sky dark and dotted by thousands of stars. Light from the full moon shone down, illuminating the roadway, which appeared as a pale ribbon stretching in both directions. Her hand still in his, they turned and headed south through the tiny, sleepy village.
They reached the far end, the village giving way to a meadow, a split-rail fence dividing it from the road. In the distance, across the field, were dark silhouettes. The herd consisted of dozens of cattle, all standing still. One cow was
far closer to the road than the others, its hide black, tail drooping lazily.
Jace bent and scooped up a rock from the side of the road. He threw it, striking the lone cow in the rear, waking it and eliciting a mournful “moo”.
“That wasn’t nice,” Narine chided.
He gave her a sidelong look. “Watch.”
The cow began crossing the meadow, strolling lazily toward the herd.
“I figured it fell asleep, then the herd moved away, leaving this cow alone. It didn’t seem right. I woke the cow so it could join its family.”
She blinked. “Huh.” That was actually…thoughtful.
A gust of wind came from across the meadow, and Narine shivered. She had forgotten her cloak at the inn.
“You are cold,” Jace said, placing his hand on her arm.
She shook her head but knew he could feel the bumps on her skin. “It’s nothing.”
“Nonsense.” He dropped her hand and put his arm about her, wrapping her inside his cloak.
She felt the heat of him against her and didn’t mind his hand on her hip. In the past, she had fought against such closeness, especially from the opposite sex. Having grown up with neither physical affection nor adult role models to emulate, Narine had often recoiled from the advances of others. She was determined to do better, to allow herself to enjoy the contact. So she rested her head on his shoulder as they strolled down the road.
His heart pounded, Narine felt it against her cheek, but his outward appearance was calm. She wondered if he were nervous or if his racing pulse was a reaction to her. She was unsure of which she might prefer.
“I have been wishing we could spend time alone,” he said.
They stopped. Anxiety twisted her stomach. Or is it anticipation? Perhaps both. Be bold, Narine. Take a chance.
She lifted her head and looked at him, her voice breathless. “We are alone now.”
His hand slipped along her cheek and into her hair until he held the back of her head. The other hand went to the small of her back, drawing her close. Their lips met, the kiss tender, lingering, repeating.
Something inside her bubbled up. With unexpected urgency, she pushed her lips against his. He responded, opening his mouth, his tongue stroking hers. Rather than fight it, she embraced him more tightly, his firm body pressing against hers. It was bliss.
A squawk, deep and throaty, echoed in the night, followed by a heavy thump.
Narine opened her eyes and turned toward the sound.
A hulking shape had landed in the middle of the meadow. The cow beneath it released a high-pitched “moo”, struggling as a beast twice its size grappled with it, tearing at the cow’s neck. The cattle across the meadow woke from the disturbance and burst into a stampede, racing into the forest. The cow under attack fell quiet, and the creature turned to give Narine her first good view of it.
Standing the height of a horse but with a body twice the size, the monster had the head of a lizard, long and angular. Giant, bat-like wings stretched from its body, claws digging into the cow. It had only two legs and a long, curled tail with a crest down the spine.
A dragon… They exist. Narine was frozen in shock, unable to comprehend the sight of the legendary beast.
Jace grabbed her and pulled her to the ground between the road and the fence. She landed in the long grass with a grunt. His hand covered her mouth.
“Shh,” he hissed, covering them both with his cloak.
Silence.
Heavy footsteps in the grass followed, drawing closer until she could hear the dragon’s breathing. Through a gap between the cloak and the grass, she saw the monster’s head blot out the sky. It stopped just shy of the fence and looked out into the night. The dragon’s jaw was covered with blood, nostrils flaring, eyes dark slits on a field of yellow.
Narine held her breath, praying the monster would leave them.
It released a huff and turned away. The thump of rapid steps followed, and she heard the beast tear into the cow. Jace lifted his head, watching the beast take flight, the heavy flapping of its wings like a pulse in the night. Half the cow dangled from its claws. It sailed out over the forest, then was gone.
Jace looked down at her, the shock on his face slipping away and turning into a grin. “Since we are already lying together…”
“Jace… We just saw a dragon, a beast from legend, tear a cow apart. It could have killed us.”
“You don’t know if that was a dragon. And even if it was, why do I care?”
Her voice rose in pitch and volume. “You want to bed me here in the grass just strides away from the poor, dead cow? What if the dragon returns? What if there are more of them?”
His brow furrowed. “What if I promise to be quick?”
Aghast, she grunted, “Ugh,” and pushed him off her. Rising to her feet, she began pulling strands of grass from her hair. “We need to go back and warn the others.”
He lay in the grass, propped up on an elbow while looking up at her. With a sigh, he shook his head. “You are the most frustrating woman I have ever met.”
She put her hands on her hips, waiting for him to stand. “Do you care for me?”
Jace blinked as he shook debris off his cloak. “How can you ask that?”
“Answer the question.”
“Well, I thought it was clear.”
“Why did you kiss me?”
“Why all the questions?”
“I want to know.” She arched a brow, waiting.
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. I have been attracted to you from the moment we met. Since then, I have found other things about you I like. I thought… I guess I thought it might be worth the effort.”
She smiled. “Was that so difficult?”
“As for the kiss…” He held up a finger and pointed it at her. “It was you who kissed me.”
“I did not.”
“Did so.”
Irritated, she glared at him. “Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.” Narine spun and stomped down the road, back toward the inn.
24
Trepidation
Rhoa was exhausted after a sleepless night followed by a long day in the saddle. She finished tugging the snarls from her dark hair and handed the brush back to Adyn. “Thanks for letting me borrow Narine’s brush.”
Adyn accepted it and stuffed it into a pack as Narine burst into the room, panting, eyes haunted.
“Follow me. We need to talk.” Narine spun and disappeared into the corridor before anyone could reply.
Rhoa glanced at Adyn, who shrugged and walked out the door.
In moments, the men had joined them in the dining hall, all seven surrounding the table they had occupied during dinner, everyone sitting save for Narine. Rawk and Algoron appeared heavy-eyed, probably already sleeping by the time Jace woke them. In contrast, Salvon seemed focused, evidently interested to hear why they had gathered so urgently. Oddly, Jace had his arms crossed, face locked in a scowl.
Narine spoke first. “I suppose you are wondering why I called all of you together. This may sound unbelievable, but we just saw a dragon.”
Rhoa’s jaw dropped, her eyes wide. Nobody else appeared fazed by the news.
“Hmm,” Salvon said as he stroked his beard. “Rather than jumping to conclusions, I would like to hear the entire story.”
“Yes, of course.” Narine sat and recited the tale of what she and Jace had seen.
When finished, Salvon shook his head. “You did not see a dragon.”
“You don’t believe me?”
The old man chuckled. “I do believe your story, but the description of what you saw does not match a dragon.”
Narine’s brow furrowed. “What was it then?”
“I would guess a wyvern.”
Rhoa asked, “What is a wyvern?”
“They are smaller, less impressive relatives of dragons. They are reputed to hunt at night, their eyes overly sensitive to light. More importantly, they hunt by movement. If legend holds true, while remai
ning still, they will not notice you even when you are just strides away.”
“That’s why it passed by us and attacked the cow. Jace and I were…” Narine’s gaze flicked to the thief. “We were not moving at the time.”
Adyn arched a brow. “What were you doing?”
Narine’s cheeks grew flush. She shook her head. “Never mind that. Don’t you see? We could have been killed by that monster. Where did it come from? How many more are out there?”
“I explained about the shift in the balance of magic,” Salvon said. “Like dragons, wyverns are creatures of magic. I suspect others will appear as long as the balance remains shifted. As for how many…” He shook his head. “I cannot guess.”
“Where did it come from?” Rhoa asked.
“Good question, Rhoa.” Salvon’s eyes narrowed. “I recall stories mentioning a land of myth residing beyond the Great Peaks. Of course, that mountain range is so tall, nobody has ever crossed it. The air up there is too thin, causing you to faint before you can breach even a saddle between two peaks. Thus, I have never seen any evidence of such a place, but if monsters of legend have returned, they must come from somewhere. For a being who can fly, the Great Peaks are not so far away from here.”
A silence fell over the room. Creatures of legend returning, Rhoa thought, her imagination conjuring up beings from stories she had heard from Salvon in years past. She could not stop herself from looking toward the window, wondering what other creatures might lurk in the night.
“Something bothers me,” Jace said, breaking the spell. He pointed toward Salvon. “You mentioned these things, these wyverns, were smaller than dragons. This monster was still bigger than a horse, not including its wingspan. Just how big is a dragon?”
“Now that is something I can answer.” Salvon smiled and touched the side of his nose with a nod. “I have been retelling stories of old for quite some time. Many of these involve dragons. In them, they are described to have a body the width of a carriage, the length twice that, not including the neck or tail. Unlike wyverns, they have four legs and can breathe fire. Most importantly, dragons are intelligent.”
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