Doom of the Dragon (6 page)

“The Uglies are going to dump him in the sea!” he called to them. “You must go find Skylan and bring him back!”

Aylaen saw Acronis walking toward her and she sighed and went back to staring out at the sea. The sun goddess had returned from her nightly wandering to share her warmth and light with the world. Aylaen watched the light spread across the waves.

“Aylaen,” said Acronis gently, coming to stand beside her, “I know the pain you are suffering. I felt the same when my Chloe died, a pain so terrible and wrenching I tried to kill myself to end it. For your sake and the sake of the rest of us, you must face the truth. Skylan is dead. You need to let him go.”

Aylaen stood with her arms folded across her chest, holding herself together, digging her nails into her flesh to keep from giving way to her grief and fear. If once she lost control and fell apart, she might never be able to pick up the pieces.

“If he were dead, I would know it,” Aylaen said. “I would feel it, here.”

She clenched her fist over her heart. Acronis cast a meaningful glance at Skylan's body, pale and cold and still. Aylaen knew what he was thinking, for she was thinking the same. He was dead. Dead. Dead. She would live all the rest of her life without him.

“Aylaen, you don't have to do anything. Farinn and I can—” Acronis began.

Aylaen cut him off. “Are we are on course for the land of the Stormlords?”

Acronis regarded her with such caring and understanding that she wanted to run to his arms as a child to her father, and sob until the burning pain was gone.

Instead she repeated harshly, “Are we are on course?”

“I presume we are,” said Acronis. “We were yesterday. I have not taken my readings today.”

“Then do so and let me know,” Aylaen said.

She turned away, back to the sea.

Acronis stood still a moment, then walked over to a sea chest that he kept on deck. Taking out his instruments, he performed whatever mysteries he performed with them to determine the location of the
Venejekar
in this vast ocean with no land anywhere in view.

Aylaen closed her eyes and leaned against the dragon's neck.

“I don't know what to do, Kahg,” she said. “Acronis is right. Skylan is dead. He died in my arms. I felt him draw his final breath. Yet I know my husband so well, he is so much a part of me, that sometimes I think Wulfe is also right and that Skylan is
not
dead. But if so, what has happened to him? Where can he be?”

Aylaen put her hand on the bone that hung from the nail on the prow. As Bone Priestess, she used the bone, given to them by the Dragon Kahg, to summon him.

“I have prayed to Vindrash, begged her to answer me,” Aylaen continued. “All is silence. I don't understand. The goddess has always come to me before in my time of need. Why does she avoid me now?”

“Because Aelon is searching for you,” said Kahg.

Aylaen looked at him, startled by this sudden and unexpected response. “Aelon is looking for me?”

“Vindrash fears if she speaks to you,” Kahg explained, “Aelon will hear her words and know where to find you.”

“Has Aelon grown so powerful?” Aylaen asked, doubtful.

“Aelon has grown powerful,” Kahg replied in grating tones. “Vindrash speaks through me. The Dragon Goddess bids you to remember the time you cast the rune stones in the house of the old woman you know as Owl Mother.”

“That gives me no comfort,” said Aylaen. “When I was with Owl Mother the mad god, Sund, threatened me, ordering me to destroy the Five dragonbones of the Vektia. ‘Know this, then, Daughter,' he said to me. ‘If you bring the power of creation into the world, you yourself will lack it. Your womb will be barren. No children will be born to you! This I have foreseen.'

“He said my sister, Treia, is carrying Raegar's child. Sund claimed their son will become Emperor of the Oran nation and he will grind his boot into the necks of our people. He said he had foreseen this future and that it would come to pass if I did not destroy the spiritbones in my possession.”

“Apparently his threat did not work, for you have three of the Five and you have not destroyed them,” said Kahg.

“I didn't believe him,” Aylaen said. “He claims to see this future, but the wyrds of men are twined with the wyrds of gods to form a tapestry made up of myriad futures. Sund sees but one among the many.”

“And yet, you cast the rune stones to see your future. Why did you do that?”

“I know it was foolish, but I wanted to know if Sund's prediction would come true, if I would be barren.”

“What did the stones tell you?” Kahg asked.

“Owl Mother read them. ‘Five of the stones are blank,' she said to me. This means that only one choice brings victory. She pointed to the sixth that was marked with a single rune. Death. A short time after that, Skylan died.”

“But the runes told your future, not his,” Kahg observed.

“Our wyrds are so tightly bound together that if he is dead, then I am dead,” Aylaen replied. “I need Vindrash—”

“Look to the north,” Kahg said urgently, interrupting. “Just above the horizon.”

Aylis, the Sun Goddess, lit the sinuous coils of three winged serpents that had sprung from the sea. The serpents twisted in the air, darting here and there, as though searching for something.

“Aelon's serpents. They are looking for you,” said Kahg. “Now you know why Vindrash was afraid to speak.”

The serpents dipped down over the waves, whipping back and forth across the ocean, then dove into the water, sending up a great spray. Aylaen waited tensely for them to reappear, but the sea stretched on, empty and endless.

“Ask Vindrash,” Aylaen pleaded. “Ask her what I am supposed to do.”

“Vindrash herself does not know what to do,” the dragon returned caustically. “How can she tell you?”

 

CHAPTER

5

Raegar stood in front of the window of his grand palace, gazing out at the city of Sinaria far below, basking in the light of Aelon that flooded his bedchamber. He was in an excellent mood. He was Emperor of Oran, the most powerful nation in the world. He lived in a magnificent palace, he dined on sumptuous food, he had all the gold he could spend. His people loved him. His enemies feared him. His wife, Treia, was pregnant with his son.

True, there were some dregs in his cup of sweet honey wine. He had lost his grand dragonship,
Aelon's Triumph
, in a battle with the Dragon Kahg, who had set the ship on fire and then sunk it.

Still, Raegar was pleased to reflect, even that disaster had worked to his advantage. He had been the sole survivor, and with none left alive to contradict him, he told the story of a desperate battle against overwhelming odds from which he had emerged the victor. Only two knew the truth: the Dragon Fala, who had rescued him from the ocean, and Aelon.

His god had not spoken to him since, though Raegar had given her temple a valuable, beautiful jeweled chalice in thanksgiving and he been assiduous in his visits to her altar. He was not particularly concerned. Aelon might be angry with him, but she needed him. She would come around.

He poured himself a glass of wine and summoned a slave to dress him in robes of purple trimmed in gold. This done, he ordered the man to bring his breakfast. Raegar was once more gazing out the window, sipping his wine, when he heard the girl who had entertained him last night stirring beneath the sheets.

He walked over, smiling, and was about to yank off the silken coverlet when the girl rolled over. The god Aelon regarded him from the pillow, cool and unsmiling.

Raegar staggered back, shocked and stammering.

Aelon threw aside the sheets, sat up, and stepped out of bed. She was fully clothed in robes of white lamb's wool. Her hair was braided and fastened with jeweled pins. She wore two gold serpent bracelets and a heavy gold necklace formed of seven serpents, each with a glittering ruby eye. Walking up to Raegar, she took the cup of wine from his hand and drank.

Raegar began to sweat.

“Were … were you here all night? Were you … the girl…”

Aelon spat a mouthful of wine into his face. “Are you saying you cannot tell the difference between making love to some human whore and your god?”

Raegar blinked wine from his burning eyes.

“No, no, I … I … I…”

“Shut up,” said Aelon. “Clean your face.”

She turned away, saying over her shoulder. “You swore to me you would be faithful to your wife.”

Raegar mopped his face, cleansing it of wine and perspiration. “Treia is pregnant, as you know, Revered Aelon, and she fears something is wrong with the child. She won't let me touch her. She told me to leave her bed. The midwives think it would be best for her and the child if I don't upset her. A man has needs…”

His voice trailed off.

Aelon stood in silence, drinking the wine. Raegar began to grow frightened.

“All is well with your wife's pregnancy,” said Aelon at last. “I will reassure her.”

Still she did not look at him.

“I know I have displeased you, Revered Aelon,” said Raegar humbly. “If this is about the loss of the ship, I can explain—”

“Ship!” Aelon snorted. “What do I care about ships? Your cousin, Skylan, is not dead.”

“Not dead? Impossible!” Raegar said, amazed. “I threw the spear that killed him. I saw his blood flow! I saw him fall! I
watched
him die!”

“Nonetheless, he is not dead,” Aelon said. “He is not alive, but he is not dead.”

“I don't understand,” said Raegar, frowning. “How can he be both?”

“Some god loves him,” Aelon muttered. She held out her goblet. “More wine.”

Raegar poured the wine. He longed to pour a drink for himself, but he knew he needed to remain sober, keep his wits about him.

“Where is Skylan?” Raegar asked. “Tell me where to find him and this time, I swear, I will finish him!”

“Your cousin has gone where you cannot follow. He is now my concern,” said Aelon. “I will deal with him, his wife,
and
the spiritbones. She has acquired the third, the spiritbone in the possession of the Sea Goddess. The one you promised to bring to me.”

“I can explain—”

“Please do so.” Aelon arched an eyebrow and said mockingly, “From the stories I hear, you were the hero of that battle. Tell me, Raegar, how many men did you kill single-handed?”

Raegar considered the god's taunt unjust. “I had to tell the people something to explain my absence and the loss of the ship, Revered Aelon. I am their emperor. You would not have them lose faith in me.”

Aelon regarded him in silence, then grudgingly conceded. “I suppose not.”

She poured herself more wine. Walking over to a map of the world spread out on a large table, she placed her finger at a southern point on the map and tapped her finger on a spot in the ocean.

“This is the current location of your cousin's dragonship, the
Venejekar
. His wife, that Kai Priestess of Vindrash. Your wife's sister. The one you lust after. What is her name?”

“Aylaen, Revered Aelon,” Raegar mumbled, flushing.

While it was true he had once lusted after Aylaen, he found the thought of her sickened him. Whenever he thought of her now, he heard her accusations against Treia.

Treia made a bargain with Hevis, God of Lies and Deceit
, Aylaen had told him.
She promised to sacrifice someone she loved and in return he gave her the ability to summon the Vektia dragon. She failed to keep her bargain. Hevis will not forget. I would watch what she puts in my soup if I were you.

Her accusations were one of the reasons he had been avoiding Treia. He could have explained to Aelon, but he feared Aelon might think he and Treia had conspired with Hevis together. Once his son was born, he would see to it that Treia would never pray to a heathen god again.

Aelon irritably snapped her fingers under his nose. “Are you listening to me?”

Raegar came back to reality with a guilty start. “Yes, Revered Aelon!”

“I asked you a question. Where do you think Aylaen and the
Venejekar
are bound?”

“I don't know, Revered Aelon,” said Raegar. “Back to Vindraholm?”

“Far from it. Vindrash tried to conceal Aylaen from me, but at last I found her. She is sailing on this course. See where it leads.”

Raegar frowned, puzzled. “That route would take her to the realm of the Stormlords. Why would she go there, to a land of foul wizards?”

“Why indeed?”

Aelon lifted her gaze to meet his, apparently expecting him to know the answer. Raegar was in no mood to play games. He shook his head.

“Forgive me, Revered Aelon, I was up late last night, preparing for a meeting today with these very Stormlords.”

“You were up late, but not for that reason,” Aelon said, her lip curling. “I know where to find the fourth spiritbone and now Aylaen has given me the location of the fifth.”

She tapped her finger on the map.

“The realm of the Stormlords!”

Raegar was astonished at first. The more he considered the matter, the more it made sense. The wizards had been hiding in their secret kingdom for centuries. If one believed the bards, they traced their history back to the time of the fall of the Great Dragon Ilyrion.

“I think you are right, Revered Aelon,” said Raegar. “She would not risk traveling to that dangerous region for any other reason. But she wastes her time. Their city is said to be hidden by powerful magicks. No one can find it.”

“Yet that is what you must do, Raegar,” said Aelon. “Locate the hidden city and find a way to enter it.”

“The Stormlords pay us tribute yearly to be left in peace,” Raegar said doubtfully. “A large quantity of gold and jewels. The treasury would suffer—”