Embers at Galdrilene (2 page)

When it was over, she climbed unsteadily to her feet. Wiping at the tears that ran unchecked, she looked down at herself, half expecting to see blood running in rivers. There was none. There wouldn’t be. The wounds Separation made ran much deeper than skin and muscle. Still shaking, she looked around her. She was in the Hatching Chamber. A small table stood against the wall under the dim glow of an orb. A book lay on the table. No, not a book. A journal. Bardeck’s journal. It was open to the pages in the back and covered in dust.

Mari spoke for the first time, her voice barely above a whisper, “He wanted you to find it. He wanted you to read it. I didn’t know…I didn’t know where to go. So I came here.”

“Why is he not here to tell me himself?” Emallya asked. Bardeck wasn’t there in her mind either and the pain stopped her from reaching for him. But why was he not there? Why did he leave this damaged mage here where he should have been? She tried to ignore the tendrils of fear growing in her stomach and tightening around her chest. She blew the light film of dust off the pages and squinted at the script in the dim light.

It detailed the plans for a major battle; told of a gathering of dragons and their riders, of the protections they had laid on a large clutch of eggs. It told how they placed her in the Hatching Chamber because it was one of the deepest in the hold, in the hopes she would survive as a guard against the future.

Turning, she peered into the semi-darkness. In the shadows in the middle of the chamber, covered in their own sheet of dust, lay a large clutch of eggs. Among them were the last her dragon had laid. Tears stung her eyes at the sight of them and she returned her attention to the pages of the journal.

Dread settled over her as her eyes moved over the writing. It told of a future, one both beautiful and terrible. It told of doom and possible salvation. A future she had foretold. The vision that spawned the forewarning exploded into her mind and swept her away. Someone was screaming. Was it her? The images rolled over her, one flowing into the next. Her mind tried to block the vision, but without her dragon as a buffer, she had no control over it. It overwhelmed her and pushed on, carrying her with it until its conclusion.

She was on the floor next to the table. She reached for Ilyana before remembering her bond-sister was dead. Desperately, she reached out for Bardeck, pushing past the pain, and found…nothing.

She scrambled to her feet with Mari’s help. She grabbed the woman’s arms in a tight grip and looked into her eyes. “Mari, where is Bardeck? Where are the other riders?”

Mari’s lower lip quivered, tears swam in her eyes and her voice wavered, “There is only…there is only you, Di’shan.”

Emallya’s heart pounded as she ran for the door of the Hatching Chamber. “Oh, no. Please, no!” Yanking the door open, she threw herself into the hall. Stumbling, she half ran through the Dragon Hold. Fear coiled in her stomach. Rubble and rock were strewn across corridors. The dead lay in twisted piles that she tripped over in the near darkness. Weeping from those still alive echoed down the halls.

Even in the Great Hall, the light was terribly dim. In one direction, the doors leading to the inner terrace were torn from their massive hinges. In the caldera beyond, the bodies of dead draclets lay strewn across the grass by the lake. She choked on a sob and turned the other way. The entrance from the city was almost completely buried in collapsed rock.

Her breath came in ragged gasps that tore at her throat as she scrambled up the sharp rocks of what had once been a mighty arch. Uncaring of the scrapes that made her hands and feet bleed, she pushed herself through the narrow hole at the top. Losing her hold, she fell down the far side. Her bruised and battered body came to rest on the broad terrace at the top of an enormous, sweeping stairway of stone.

Lying with her forehead pressed against the gritty stone of the terrace, she trembled. She didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see what she knew lay beyond. She fought for control of her emotions, her mind and her body. Everything in her screamed for release from the horror her world had become.

Slowly, she raised her head and looked out at a scene of utter devastation. The city of Galdrilene was no more. The six mage towers stood broken and burning. The ground itself was churned and blasted. Fires raged uncontrolled, feeding off the remains of what had once been a beautiful city. In desperation, she again reached for Bardeck and Mernoth with her mind and was greeted by a bleak void. The burning city echoed with her screams as fear and aching loss rode in with the next wave of Separation.

She wanted to die, wanted to follow her dragon. There was nothing left for her; except the eggs. Rylin’s eggs were there and they needed protection. Mari scrambled down the rubble of the doorway to her. There were other survivors, too. They needed her. And the future needed her. Galdrilene was in ashes, but her vision spoke of embers that would fan flames into the future. Embers. Future riders. Somehow, she had to be here for them.

V
addoc walked alone through the dark, shrouded streets. He paid little attention to his surroundings or the dense blanket of fog, uncommon for Marden, the capital city of Shadereen. Something about the fog tickled the back of his mind, but was pushed away by the turmoil in his thoughts. Sooner or later they would realize he had been the one who used magic. Then he would die.

The penalty for the crime of magical ability remained the same as it had since the War of Fire ended some five hundred years before. The nations had worked too long and hard rebuilding after those insane magic users and their dragons turned the world to ash before destroying themselves. None would take the chance of it happening again.

Vaddoc wondered if it really mattered. Lenyi was dead. His magic hadn’t saved her, only condemned him. Maybe that was just as well. Then he could find his love in Maiadar, the realm of the dead. In his mind, he heard a growl of protest. He ignored it.

He’d been hearing a hum in his mind for several months. But he didn’t know he could use magic. Not until the moment the hum turned into a roar in his mind and all he could think was there needed to be a shield between Lenyi and the towering, horned beast bearing down on her. For a moment, a shield of light had shimmered around her, then it was gone. He would never forget the look in her dark eyes when the sword of the Kojen took her life.

The growl softened to a hum again and crooned comfortingly. He wished it would go away. What was he thinking? Magic was too dangerous and he didn’t want to go insane. The hum came close to growling again. Vaddoc tried to ignore it. The hum didn’t want him to turn himself in, he could feel it, like the mind of another being sharing his head. But it was his duty to turn himself over and accept the death sentence with honor. Just like his Watch was his duty.

His Watch. He thought of the inscription in the stone above the gate to the city.
“The Three Sisters stand shoulder-to-shoulder as a barrier to the east. Their soldiers the first line of defense. They watch and wait. Always ready to defend against the shadows in the sunrise.”

The words of his Sword Master rang in his memory, reminding him of his oath,
“You are one of those soldiers. You took the oath of a Border Guard, you agreed to lay down your life for Shadereen and everyone who lives to the west. You agreed to take on a Watch. You will be ever vigilant of the Kojen who come out of the east. You will never walk away from your Watch. The Watch can never be surrendered. There is no greater shame than failing your duty.”

Vaddoc shook his head and walked faster as if he could escape the memory. He turned a corner and nearly ran into a woman. Even in the dark, Vaddoc recognized his aunt. He started to apologize when she reached out, grabbed his arm and said, “I have been looking all over for you. Why didn’t you stay put as my note told you to?”

He remembered the note brought by a messenger that morning. “You sent that, Arnya? Why? What are you doing out here in the dark?”

She pulled on his arm, leading him further down the street. “I might as well not have bothered. I sent it so I wouldn’t have to wander all over looking for you. This fog isn’t going to last forever and Emallya wants to get you out of here under its cover. The Members of Peace are already suspicious. They’ve been ordered to bring in your unit. They know one of you used magic.”

He stopped. “What does that have to do with me?” Why didn’t he just admit to it?

She looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Don’t play stupid with me, young man. There isn’t time for that. I know what you can do.”

Suspicion filled him. “Why are you helping me, then? Shouldn’t you be turning me in?”

Arnya sighed. “I can hardly turn you in for something I can do, as well.”

Vaddoc’s breath left him in a rush and he stared at her in the darkened street, stunned and uncertain. “But…what…how?” If what she said was true, if she could use magic, wouldn’t she be insane by now? Everyone who used magic went insane. Every child was taught that from the time they were old enough to understand. But this was his aunt, he had known her his whole life. She wasn’t insane…was she?

She said they were bringing in his unit. They knew. Sweat broke out on his forehead, despite the cold, desert night. They would find him. He wanted to be sent on his way to Lenyi, yet at the same time the hum demanded he live. The two opposites warred with each other as he stood in the dark with a woman he should be able to trust, except…she could use magic.

The hum sang in his mind. It wanted him to trust her.
Shut up. Whatever you are, shut up and get out of my head.
Something shared his head and his aunt used magic. Maybe he was already going crazy.

He looked at Arnya, who stood tapping her foot, waiting for him to follow her. Suddenly, the heavy mist took on a new meaning. She’d said it wouldn’t last forever, but it shouldn’t be here at all. “You made the fog.”

She nodded and looked past him out into the mist as if making sure they were alone. “It certainly didn’t happen by itself. Even if some strange twist of the weather managed to bring in fog this time of year, it would never be this thick.”

Vaddoc felt the thick moisture against his face and he eyed her warily. Maybe the Members of Peace sent her to lure him in. He shook his head; that was ridiculous. “How did you make fog this time of year?”

She laughed softly. “Well, it was not easy. I’m a fairly strong Weather mage, but creating this on the edge of a desert truly tested my abilities.”

“Can you do other things besides make fog?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You mean, prove to you I can use magic, so you can feel assured I’m not double-crossing you?”

He hated feeling suspicious of his aunt, but he couldn’t help it. Arnya nodded. “Very well.” The air thickened and tightened around him until his arms were pinned to his sides. He struggled against the invisible bonds. His magic waited, the power flowing like a river, but when he reached for it, hoping he could use it to break free, it slipped away.

He stopped struggling and glared at her. Fear clawed at him. “Let me go.”

“Are you sufficiently convinced?”

He nodded and the bonds disappeared. He flexed his arms and touched the hilts of his swords. His heart hammered in his chest. It had been a long time since he felt true fear, but he felt it now in the face of her magic. It churned his stomach and made his mouth dry. He could stand against a charge of massive, horned Kojen, but his swords and training were useless against air.

“Where…” He swallowed hard. “Where did you learn to do it? Did somebody teach you?”