Iefyr waited until the barbed tail passed before relaxing his grip on the arrow. His hands were marble-white and trembling. Tiny blood beads formed where the falling leaves had cut him. “I don't have any arrows that can kill a dragon.”
“Then don't. I think it's chasing the cadra. We can wait for them to go away.” I drew another acrid breath and tried not to whimper through the sting.
Another dragon soared overhead, lower than the first. The boughs rippled and clanged. The dragon abruptly shifted direction and an eddy of leaves swirled around us, clanging together like a dropped box of bells.
A loud thump reverberated through the forest, then a chorus of agonized screams. A cadra landed heavy on the road not twenty yards from us. Its silky fur was wet with blood and its broad chest heaved as its four heads twisted wildly. Its wings were bent at unnatural angles and blood cascaded down the feathers to pool upon the road. A large section of the cadra's upper back was missing, its severed spine plainly visible.
The ground quaked as four taloned feet landed in the roadway. The opalescent dragon called to the sky, then stepped toward the cadra. Its talons, each as long as my arm, clicked against loose stones.
Serida huddled against my side. She peeked around my elbow at the great white dragon, then recoiled and tucked her head under my arm. Her small body quivered.
The cadra screamed again and tried to jerk itself upright, but there would be no rising for that beast. Its death could only be hastened, not prevented.
We collectively held our breath as the dragon approached the bleeding cadra. The only sound came from Shan as he continued to hold us in shadow. I doubted his eyes were open. If they were, it was unlikely he'd be able to hold his focus against the sight before us.
The dragon lowered its head and stared into the trees, stared in our direction. Silver eyes narrowed and glared. A scaled upper lip sneered to expose blood-stained and tissue-clogged teeth. Horns spiraled from the dragon's brow, revealing the magnificent and terrifying creature as male.
My heart thudded, a clawed hammer striking my ribs. Please be enough, please be enough, I thought in a powerless attempt to will Shan's shade to shield us. What if the dragon smelled us, what if he heard us? What if Shan couldn't hold the shadows and we were left on full display?
Two of the cadra's heads loosed a sustained scream and the dragon's attention snapped back to his prey. The dragon chomped at the screaming heads, cleaving them from their struggling necks. The remaining two heads dropped to the ground and fell silent.
The dragon's talons gripped the cadra's midsection. He took one last, long, petrifying look into the forest where we hid before coiling his legs and launching himself into the sky. The trees bent and clanged as the dragon returned in the direction from which he came.
We sat in silence for several more minutes as a second cadra shrieked in the distance. Scream, stomp, more screams, then the beating of wings as the second dragon returned to the mountains, prey held firmly in its talons.
The silence and shadow incantation continued well after the dragons were gone. After a while, Ragan shook out his pale and trembling hands and stood. He ducked under branches to walk around Iefyr and me, then knelt next to Shan. He set his hand on Shan's shoulder and gently said, “You can stop now. They're gone.”
Shan's bowed chin snapped to level and his clenched eyelids fluttered open. His bloodshot eyes gazed around, bewildered. “What happened?”
“Well, you saved us from being dinner. You did well. Thank you.” Ragan brushed a violet leaf from Shan's hair, then touched a knuckle to his cheek. “You all right, Shannon? You with us?”
Shan blinked twice and shuddered. “I will be once I get something to eat and a walk around. What were they? I didn't want to wait until I could see them to shield us.”
“Opal dragons. The one that landed near us was a mature drake. The other may have been his mate. I didn't get a good look at it,” Rose said. She crouched next to Shan and embraced him. She kissed his temple and smiled. “You held that shield much longer than I could have.”
“Did they have riders?” Shan asked.
Rose shook her head. “Opal dragons aren't like your little solar dragons. They're born live instead of from eggs, and they don't imprint or bind. They're wild, vicious, beautiful creatures, and we are very lucky that you were here to keep them from noticing us.”
“I didn't know some dragons didn't come from eggs,” I said. I stretched my arms and tried to ignore the tearing pain of my sore ribs. It was worse now than it was before the cadra and dragons. I'd have to remember to use Iefyr's warmed stones for sore muscles trick when we stopped for the night.
Rose looked at me as if she had forgotten I was there. “I've heard of a few varieties that have live births. None of them can bind with people, so they were driven to the wilderness long ago. Opals stick to the mountains above the Mala Basin. They never come down into the basin, but I remember they sometimes terrorized the livestock that grazed in the lower mountain elevations. Apparently, they also hunt cadra over the Crystal Forest.”
Shan shivered and crossed his arms over his chest. “We need to leave. I've attracted the attention of the trees and what they're whispering will bring me nightmares.”
∆∆∆
We reached the eastern border of the Crystal Forest just after nightfall. We stood at the edge of a rocky slope leading downward into the Mala Basin and breathed in sweet, fresh air. Moonlight illuminated dozens of sharp peaks poised to swallow the elongated, heavily-forested valley below.
“Welcome to the heart of the Faelands.” Rose frowned as she surveyed the landscape and the rest of us set up camp. “I expect to see a lot more people once we complete the descent. Mala is an artery rife with villages, and we have to cross all the way to the east to get to Belise. Don't expect the Fae here to be as hospitable as our Owlfae friends.”
“You sure we can't go around?” Ragan asked. He stood next to Rose, his hand to his mouth and his broad shoulders rounded.
“We can't cross hundreds of leagues of mountains on horseback. We have to go through and get on the passes out of the Faelands and into the Diamond Realm. Belise and Anthora aren't far apart. Five days, maybe a week.” Rose squeezed Ragan's hand and sighed. “You'll be all right. Be careful and you'll be all right.”
“I hope that's true.”
I set up a makeshift tent next to a boulder and tossed my bedding inside. The chilled wind slapped at my face and prickled my skin, but there would be no fire to warm myself beside and no heated stones to ease my sore muscles. A campfire would give away our presence to anyone looking up from the valley below, so it was best to spend the night eating cold rations and shivering ourselves to sleep.
Ragan returned to the camp circle while Rose lingered on the bluff. He straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat. He nodded at me and asked, “Where's your brother?”
I pointed to a tent beneath a bent and twisted cedar. “He and Lumin ducked under there as soon as he tied it up. Marita got the horses settled and joined them.”
“He's very skilled for someone so young, far more skilled than I am or ever will be,” Rose said, her back still to us. “I didn't teach him how to do that, and the warlock Masters at the University are more concerned about theory than practice where their early year scholars are concerned, especially when it comes to defensive spells. They might teach a little self-defense but certainly not group defense. Do you know who taught him?”
“No.” I fumbled with a pouch of roasted acorns the Owlfae had left for us. My fingers were too cold and tired to maintain any sense of coordination. “I know someone had to be helping him, but I don't know who. He can do other things, too, things that seem a little strange to me. He can shade other magic users and prevent them from using their abilities. He did it to the Jarrah in the dragon forge, and that's how Mom and the Foxfire orcs were able to beat them. He also has this useless little trick where he throws shadow puppets on the walls and they act out stories i
ndependent of his hand movements. He can even make them spring from the wall and move around as three-dimensional illusions. It seems like nothing, childish entertainment even, but I overheard one of the Masters tell Daelis that he'd never seen that spell before. He made and enchanted the pendant he wears—the creepy thing with the eye and the wings and the resilience charm—and I didn't think warlocks could create magical objects like that. I don't know what else he can do. We've always been close, but he likes to keep secrets from me as far as his magic is concerned.”
“He was ashamed of his skill when he was a child.” Rose sighed heavily and her shoulders tensed. She spun toward us and walked to Ragan's side. He handed her a length of dried meat and a waterskin. “Thank you, my dear. Tessen, I always had a feeling that your brother's personality was in conflict with his innate gifts. He was outgoing and friendly, but he wanted to hide his skill instead of developing it, and all I could do for him was teach him control so he wouldn't unintentionally hurt himself or someone else. He's more willing to learn now, but he's no longer a child and I think he's begun to understand the importance of what he can do.”
I washed down a handful of acorns with a gulp of musty water. “Children and the ignorant tell each other stories about how only evil people use shadow magic, and even when those stories are proven false they cling to the lies they learned. I don't think Shan accepted what he was until he figured out how to use shadows to preserve life. Rose, who taught you?”
Rose ran her fingertips down the length of the waterskin. “Cadogan Vale. Ragan's uncle, Mordegan's older brother. We both knew I'd never be more than a middling warlock, but he wanted to practice teaching someone before he worked toward becoming a Master. Fae aren't allowed into any university in Bacra so I didn't think I'd have another chance to learn from someone more educated than a hedge warlock. Cadogan teaches at Jadeshire University now, but only at the upper levels, so I doubt Shan has taken courses from him yet.”
Ragan unfurled a tarp and set it on the ground near the tent Nador already occupied. The chocolate effect was nearly gone by the time we reached the bluff, and she had settled down to sleep nearly as quickly as Shan. Only the three of us and Iefyr remained awake, and Iefyr was busy inspecting the perimeter.
“Cadogan only taught Mom for three years, ages twelve to fifteen,” Ragan said as he strung the tarp up to form a tent. “He left for Jadeshire not long after Mom got pregnant with me. He and Dad never got on well, and that rift grew when Dad moved down to Jadeshire and set up his mercenary ring. They never approved of each other's professions or relationships, and I had to hear all about it every time they were together.”
Rose snorted. “Cadogan prefers the affection of elven men and Mordegan prefers non-human, non-elven women. How many siblings do you have now, Ragan?”
“Dunno. Eight, probably more. I do have the one half-elf sister, the one who disappeared a couple years back, but you're right that none of the rest have elven or human mothers. Dad's latest girlfriend is dwarven and she's given him at least three. Maybe four. Belda's stayed with him longer than any of the others. She was pregnant again last I saw her. ”
Rose smiled and averted her eyes. “I can't say I'm surprised. Seemed like he had a new little half-blood bastard chasing him every time he hired me for a job. He enjoys fatherhood and they're all as well-loved and well taken care of as you were. Anyway, I'm going to find a place to sleep now. You need sleep more than the rest of us, Tessen. Will you be warm enough?”
“I've got Serida. I'll be fine,” I said. I shivered as I willed my heavy eyelids to remain open. The weight of the day was crushing what little energy I had left. “Good night. I guess we'll be in the Mala Basin tomorrow, and hopefully things will get easier since we'll be somewhere less wild.”
Rose winced and turned away from me. “Hopefully. We'll see if my childhood memories align with reality soon enough. Good night, my dears. Sleep well.”
Chapter 35
While the bitter wind whipped at my tent, I slept deeply and dreamed of Serida. It was a mundane dream, a conversation about favorite foods. I told her about my appreciation for a tangy, crusty sourdough bread with a thick layer of fresh-churned honey butter and early summer strawberries. She told me of her love for grasshoppers and crayfish, but her favorite so far was rabbit.
When I woke, Serida was sitting at my feet, backlit by the sunrise. She held something recently dead in her claws and mouth, something small with silken-furred limbs and membraned wings. It crunched as she tore it apart and chewed it. I hoped whatever creature she was devouring was a something and not a someone.
“You seem to be enjoying that,” I said, stretching. My ribs and back were still sore, but not as bad as the night before.
“Chirp?” Serida lowered her prey and tilted her head toward me. Copper-tinted blood dripped from her mouth.
“I assume our conversation made you hungry and you had to go catch yourself some breakfast.”
“Chirp.” Serida nodded.
“Are we learning to communicate better while awake?”
Another nod, then a sickening crunch as Serida snapped apart what little was left of the creature's ribcage.
“Just think, in a couple decades you might be knocking cadra out of the sky to satisfy your need for fresh breakfast.”
“Chirp?”
“Eww. Lumin, what is that? Get it off my blanket. I don't care if it's a gift, take it away.” Shan's startled voice reached across the camp circle.
“Chirp?” Serida lowered her meal and stared into the sunrise. “Chirp?”
“Well, if Shan doesn't want it, maybe your brother will let you eat it. Go get it, but keep it outside,” I said.
Serida bounded out of the tent, her long tail waving behind her like a dancer's ribbon. I laced my fingers behind my head and listened.
“Damn it! Now your sister's got one, too. Part of one. What are they? Never mind. Just get them out of here.” Shan's tent tarp rustled and his silhouette rose against the sunrise. “I hope that was tasty, Lumin. It had a humanoid head. Don't look at me like that, I saw it. Some sort of bat pixie. Damn it, it was wearing clothes and a gemstone necklace. Can you try not to eat anything else that might be sentient? It's barbaric.”
“Chirp?” the dragons responded in unison. Crunch, crunch, crunch. They were determined to enjoy their meal of tiny someones.
My stomach twisted. What if those pixies had families somewhere? What if they had children waiting for them to come home? How could we do a better job of monitoring what the dragons ate when everything was new to them and they didn't yet understand what was food and what was a person?
Shan stood before the dragons, his hands on his hips. “Dragons. Lumin. Serida. Do not kill anything that wears clothing or speaks to you. Since clothing is optional, to be safer don't eat anything that has a face like a person, even if that thing is small. Understand?”
Crunch. “Chirp?” Crunch.
“That's disgusting,” Shan said with a loud sigh. “Damn it. Of course you don't understand. How am I suppose to teach you two that we don't eat pixies? I know their language is limited and we don't understand them, but they're still basically people, so don't eat them.”
“Chirp?” Crunch!
“Ugh.”
It took some effort to roll myself onto my stomach, then raise my tired body to its knees and craw out of the tent. Once clear of the tarp, I sat on my shins and yawned. “We don't eat people, dragons.”
“Did you see what your dragon had?” Shan asked. He was shirtless and his scarred and tattooed skin reflected the pinks and oranges of the rising sun. His winged resilience pendant flashed silver.
“I saw wings and furry legs. The rest was already gone.”
Shan shuddered, but kept his hands on his hips. “Well, I saw its face. Dead, frozen in horror. Not the sort of shit I want to wake up to.”
I slowly stood and walked toward him. Both dragons sat on the rocks behind him, happily licking the remnants of their brea
kfast from their jowls and claws. I stared at the black inking on Shan's left bicep. It appeared to be a runic inscription set within the outline of a conch shell.
“Aren't you cold?” I squinted at the tattooing. I couldn't make out the details due to the vibrant lighting and distance.
“Freezing,” Shan admitted with a shrug and a shiver. “I was itchy, so I took off my shirt. Why are you staring at me? Stop.”
“How much of what's on your skin have you translated?”
“Not much. It's in at least six different languages, most of them archaic. Tattooing on top of scarring and branding, and all of it with a delicate hand. There is a lot to translate and I haven't had any recent free time to look into it, now have I?”
“One moment. I have an idea, a very obvious one.” I ducked back into my tent and grabbed the spectacles. I put them on before returning to Shan. Every visible symbol on his body transitioned into plain Bacran Common. “I can read you. The arc above the spirals and stars over your heart says Spellkeeper, Guardian of Arcana. Above that is the phrase–”
Shan clapped a hand over my mouth. His eyebrows knit and he forced a swallow. “Do not speak aloud anything you read on me. Even translated, the phrases have power. I heard Ranalae say Spellkeeper more than once. She referred to me as Brother Eclipse, Spellkeeper, when she introduced me to her Jarrah. Sometimes just Spellkeeper Eclipse or Eclipse Spellkeeper. It was some sort of official position within the order, obviously something important or she wouldn't have carved spells into me, but I wasn't with them long enough to know what she intended me to be. I'm incomplete as Spellkeeper, too. I still have a lot of blank skin. She didn't have time to finish mutilating me before I was rescued.”
I took off the spectacles and placed them on Shan's nose. “I want these back before we leave this morning, but I think it would be less dangerous if you're the one to translate your own spells. Maybe I can write down the ones you can't see for you another day, when we're somewhere safer and warmer. The writing on your back is dense, so it will take a while.”
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