Echoes (30 page)

Dearra took hold of the sword and ran her hand down the blade. Darius did the same and then tipped his hand to allow his blood to join with hers, both of them careful not to let the blood reach the flames before the appointed time. Darius took the sword and moved it a safe distance away.

There was a high, piercing shriek of agony. Darius looked up in time to see Niada consumed in a wall of freezing blue flames.

Dearra’s throat constricted painfully. The dragon was charging in their direction. Darius ran back to Dearra, and he rested his hands on her shoulders.

Just before Dearra closed her eyes, she saw the Etrafarians. They had arrived too late for Niada, but in time to shield Dearra and Darius with their bodies.

Time slowed down. Dearra could hear the beat of her own heart. She tipped her hand and felt the blood as it fell to the flames below. She even had time to pick out the strange sizzling sound as the blood made contact with the fire.

***

Darius pushed himself upright and waited for the ringing in his ears to subside. The first thing he was aware of was the smell of blood, and hot breath in his face. His vision cleared, and as the whiteness dissipated, it was replaced by another kind of white, only not as blinding, and spattered red.

Reo’s face was only an inch from his own. The wolf had been protecting him, waiting for him to wake up. Darius was concerned that the wolf had been injured. There was so much blood. But then Darius saw Jacob’s body. Darius’s sword was in his hand. The man must have come to first and saw his chance for freedom, revenge, or both. Unfortunately for Jacob, Reo had been quicker.

Dearra stirred beside him, and he helped her to sit up.

“Brin!” she said, and the two of them turned.

He was magnificent, every inch as large as Cifera was. His scales were red, but where the light hit them, they almost shimmered gold. His body seemed unnaturally still, and Dearra staggered to her feet and rushed to his side.

Aesri was already there. Her hands stroked his face, her tears falling like raindrops on his head. Dearra knelt beside her, her own tears flowing freely.

Dearra rested her head against his. “Please, Brin. Please wake up,” she whispered. There was a sharp intake of breath through his mighty nostrils and when he exhaled, Dearra could feel the air, like a blast from a furnace. His eyes opened, and they were the same magnificent gold as the gem that had once adorned the hilt of her blade.

“Dearra? Did we live?” he asked her.

Dearra laughed aloud and swiped the tears from her cheeks. “So far,” she responded, “but the day isn’t over yet, so don’t get too excited.”

He shifted his bulk and stood up. Dearra reached up and wiped a tear from his face.

“Are you all right? You aren’t hurt are you?”

“I feel…I feel…It’s been so long.” Brin sucked in a deep breath. He exhaled a long, slow breath. “I’m free.”

Dearra smiled at him.

“Look,” Aesri said. “They are running away.”

The Breken were indeed fleeing before the Mirin Tor who pursued them.

“Aesri,” Darius said, “where is Cifera? What happened? We didn’t see.”

Dearra and Brin looked at her expectantly.

“After Niada fell,” here, Aesri’s eyes filled with tears again, and she was quiet for some time before she could continue, “we arrived too late to save her. If it had not been for her sacrifice, we would not have been in time to help you, either. My brothers and sisters and I blocked Cifera’s way. She did not seem very strong. It was as though the magic she performed against Niada had depleted her strength. There was not much fight left in her.”

“She said something about that. She said that when she tried to destroy Brin, she was wounded by the wizard, Oke. Evidently, the wounds took a long time to heal, and even now, she isn’t at her full strength.” Dearra tried to piece together what Cifera had said. She still couldn’t understand what Brin’s mother could have done for Cifera to hate her so, seeking vengeance on a dragon who had yet to be hatched.

Aesri nodded. “That would make sense. It would explain why she did not try to destroy Brin sooner. When she saw you preparing the spell, she probably realized she had no choice but to act.”

“Aesri,” Dearra said softly, “I am so sorry about Niada. She was a wonderful person, and I know the two of you were very close.”

“Yes,” Brin said, lowering his head to Aesri’s. “I liked her very much, Aesri. I want you to know how much her sacrifice and yours means to me. I will never forget, and I will do whatever I can to repay that kindness.”

“Dear, sweet, Brin’du Drak’Tir, we owed this to you. Niada knew what she was giving up, and she did so with a glad heart. You have nothing to repay.” She stroked his scales lovingly, and he closed his eyes, enjoying her caress and the fact that he was able to feel once more.

“Thank you, Aesri, but there is at least one debt that I can see repaid.” Brin stretched his wings. When the sun hit them, there was a fiery glow that emanated from around him. “The Breken have caused quite enough misery and pain to last several lifetimes.” He took a few lumbering steps and launched himself into the sky.

Dearra stood in wonder, watching as he soared so high that she could barely see him. Next, he plummeted back toward the earth before opening his wings and rocketing forward like an arrow, shot from a bow. She saw him glide over the heads of the Mirin Tor who were chasing the retreating Breken, and heard cheers as Brin’s mighty breath erased the Breken’s foul presence from the countryside. Again and again he flew overhead, and when there were no enemies left to obliterate, Brin turned toward Maj. When they finally returned home, Dearra did not know what they would find, but she was sure it would not be the Breken. Brin was nothing if not thorough.

“He seems content,” Aesri said. She was smiling wistfully. She continued to look in the direction the dragon had gone, long after Dearra’s eyes could no longer see him.

Dearra wasn’t sure how to bring up the subject. She didn’t want to offend Aesri, but she felt she needed to say something. “Aesri? Where is Niada? There are many who have died, but I think she should be among the first to be honored and remembered.”

“There is no need, Dearra. Rah has already called her home.”

Dearra looked down the hill to the place where Niada had fallen before Cifera. The rays of the evening sun washed over the meadow below, setting everything alight with a warm, golden glow. In the middle of the meadow was a magnificent patch of bright, purple blossoms.

“Just like in Niada’s story,” Dearra said in a hush.

“Yes,” Aesri responded. “When an Etrafarian dies in the commission of an especially selfless or noble act, legend says Rah blesses the ground and from it will grow a mound of purple flowers. Those flowers will bloom there, always. Though the ground may be dug up, burned, or covered with salt, nothing will prevent them from growing new each year. This place will be called Niada Fell, and I, or one of my sisters, will come here each year to honor this place and Niada’s memory and sacrifice.”

“I’m so glad that you won’t be a stranger to us, Aesri. I would miss you if you were to go away and never return.”

“I would miss you as well. We have all grown very fond of you,” Darius added.

“There is little chance of that,” Aesri said. “I still have a sister who lives on Maj, and we would never leave one of our own. And then there is Holly. She is a very special child. There is something about her that…well, that does not matter now. That is a puzzle for another day. I would say that I am quite certain that our journey together is not over. When one road ends, there is almost always another path to be taken.”

Dearra and Darius looked at one another and smiled. Aesri always had a way of saying things that made you wonder what she was really thinking, as though she had a million secrets, and all one could do was to wait for her to be ready to explain.

Darius tucked a flyaway bit of hair behind Dearra’s ear.

“I must look terrible,” she complained.

“Awful!” he agreed. “You’re covered in blood and dirt, your hair is positively frightening, your clothing looks as though it could stand up on its own, and you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Honestly, Dearra, it’s just not fair—how’s a man supposed to concentrate with you around?”

Dearra felt warm all over. She closed her eyes and stood on tiptoe, inviting him to kiss her. She felt his lips touch hers, and she knew that everything would be all right, as long as they were together.

Dearra and Darius kissed under the falling leaves of the golden gnarn trees until the king cleared his throat loudly. Dearra blushed, realizing they’d been making a spectacle of themselves.

Queen Marianne rushed forward. “Let me be the first to congratulate you, Darius,” she said. She hugged him tightly, and he lowered his head and allowed her to kiss his cheek. “And you as well, Dearra,” she said, kissing her also. “You make a beautiful bride.”

“Thank you, Majesty,” Dearra said, blushing more deeply.

“My turn! My turn!” Carly stepped forward and moved Holly to her hip so she could better kiss Dearra.

“Come on, Dearra. If you keep this up, we’ll never get to the food,” Phillip complained loudly.

Zusia elbowed him hard and reminded him to mind his manners.

“What?” he asked her. “I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. It might be her joining day, but it’s Harvest Celebration too, and I’m hungry! We’ve been eating fish and berries non-stop!”

“If mother and father heard
me
talking like that, they would give me what for. Can’t you control yourself for five minutes?” Zusia scolded.

“Not when it involves food. Be reasonable, Zusia, a man’s got to eat!” Phillip patted his flat stomach and looked at her sadly.

Darius laughed. “He has a point, Dearra. Maybe we could go back to the Great Hall and start the festivities. There will be plenty of time for kisses and hugs there.”

“Absolutely!” Daniel agreed. He took Holly from her mother and patted the baby’s back. “Smartest thing the boy’s said all week. Let’s eat!”

Darius tried to pull Dearra towards the keep, but she pulled back.

“I’ll be right there,” she said, thinking of Brin. “I promise.”

“He’s just pouting, Dearra. Leave him and come and enjoy the celebration.”

Darius looked at her and gave her a half-smile, and for a moment she almost relented. She shook her head. She was determined not to be distracted. “Just a few minutes. On my word of honor, I’ll be right back.”

“Fine. Go then, but hurry.” He put his lips close to her ear and whispered, “I’ve waited a long time for this day. He can share.”

Dearra nodded eagerly, before lifting her dress up several inches and sprinting through the forest towards the caves.

So much had happened over the last three years. Darius had come, and her world had changed, irrevocably and forever. A year later, they had set out for Parsaia to recue Phillip. The loss of her father had been like a deep knife wound. It had healed, but the ache was still there, if she thought about it too much. The year after they went to Parsaia, the Breken had come to Mirin Tor. Now, another year later, the war was over. The Breken had been annihilated. The ones who remained in Parsaia were mostly women and children, and it would take them generations to become the power they had once been. Dearra imagined that, of those that remained, many would be lost still, as they fought amongst themselves for status and to establish the new ruling families.

The king had finally relented and allowed Dearra and Darius to be joined. She was sure the queen had played a part in that. He had even agreed to perform the ceremony himself. The fact that the capital had been destroyed made the decision of where to hold the ceremony much easier.

Building had already begun on a new city. This time, Dearra knew that King Jaymes would be much more attentive to city defenses.

Food continued to be an issue, but things weren’t as grim as they might have been. The land provided for them, and fishing became a huge trade, as meat was in high demand.

The mountain tribes had come out of hiding. They felt badly that they hadn’t fought during the war, though they wouldn’t admit it outright. The king wisely decided to accept their aid, and he welcomed them back with open arms. If they were to be reconciled with one another, someone had to extend the first hand, and the king was willing.

A covey of quail took wing, flushed from their hunt for food by Dearra’s passing. She glanced up and smiled at the fat, little birds.

The cave came into view, and Dearra’s steps slowed. She felt Brin’s warmth and saw his red glow as soon as she entered. His back was to her, and his slow, rhythmic breathing seemed to indicate he was sleeping, but Dearra wasn’t fooled.

“Brin, dearest? Are you awake?”

He snorted and shifted his head further away from her.

“You didn’t come to the ceremony,” Dearra said quietly. “Are you ill?”

There was a soft, grunting noise, but nothing more.

“Well, then, are you angry with me? I can’t think of why else you’d want to hurt me so.”

He turned his head toward her and opened his eyes. “It’s done then?” he asked.

“You make it sound like it was a death sentence, Brin. You knew Darius and I were to be joined. I can even remember a few times when you encouraged it. Don’t pout, now. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m not pouting,” he said petulantly.

“Yes you are. What is it? Do you think I won’t have time for you anymore?” Dearra curled up against his side and rested her ear against him, listening to the soothing sound of his heart.

“I’m not needed. When I was your sword, we were together always—well, unless you were stupid and left me behind. But even then I heard your every thought. Now I’m all alone, and…useless.”

Dearra stroked her hand against his scaled sides and smiled at the rumbling purr he made in response. “Strange as it seems, I miss having you in my head. It is a little lonely without you, but how can you say you’re useless? The people of Maj come see you all the time. The children adore you, and we’ve even had a constant stream of visitors from Mirin Tor, all eager to hear stories from the wise and wonderful Brin’du Drak’Tir.”

“Don’t try to flatter me, Dearra.”

“I didn’t think I was. I’m only saying that you have become the heart of our island home, and you’ll always be in
my
heart. We are part of one another, you and I, and I’d be lost without you. How could I rebuild, and run this island, or make wise choices without your aid?”

“You have Darius. You have Daniel. You don’t
really
need me.”

“How can you say that? You know Daniel’s busy with Holly and Carly. He’s busy training our people as well as the recruits for the Mirin Tor army that the king’s sent. He doesn’t have the time to spend with me as he once did.

“And then there’s Darius. You and I both know that I have him pretty much wrapped around my little finger, and that he can’t refuse me anything, not like you, Brin. With you, I know I can’t always get my way. You wouldn’t
really
abandon me, would you, Brin?”

“I suppose what you say is true,” he conceded. “Someone needs to keep you in line.”

Dearra crawled along the stone floor of the cave and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I knew I could count on you, Brin.”

“I just feel like there should be something more,” he sighed. “I can’t describe it, but I feel as though I’m meant for something else. You are right about one thing, though—you’d be utterly hopeless without my magnificent guidance and counsel.

“You should get up now or you’ll ruin your dress. Everyone’s probably waiting for you. Come to think of it, what
are
you doing here? You have responsibilities, Dearra. You can’t go running off anytime you choose. You have guests to see to. Go, on! Off with you!”

“Yes, Brin,” she said obediently. “See? What would I do without you?”

Brin smirked at her obvious sarcasm, but he felt better.

Dearra kissed him, quickly. “Love you, Brin.”

“And, I love you, too, Fuzzy.”