Embers at Galdrilene (20 page)

Emallya sat unmoving under the trees atop the hill as the stars passed overhead. When the first hint of dawn faded the eastern horizon to a pearl gray, she rose and made her way down to the shore of the lake. The sand under her feet was as smooth as the water and she left no lasting impression in it. Kneeling at the lake’s edge, she reached out her hand and slowly lowered it. When her palm hovered just above the water, the surface rose to meet it. She felt the instant pull on her soul. She held it carefully in check as she allowed her power to flow in a trickle into the still lake. The more power she used, the harder the water would pull at her spirit.

Silver tendrils formed beneath her hand, weaving together under the still surface. They glowed and pulsed with life as they reached for the center of the lake and its unimaginable depths. What the water might show her was only a possibility. Even so, she had to try.

A warning rippled across her mind, interrupting the flow of magic before it was finished. She pulled her hand away and stood, letting the magic dissipate. The water settled back without a ripple. The silver threads faded and disappeared. Emallya turned and ran back up the slope and through the trees to the camp. She arrived to find all of the Foundlings on their feet with weapons in hand and allowed herself an inward smile of satisfaction that their training already brought them far enough to feel the warning at the same time she did.

“You stay and hold the horses, Loki,” she commanded. “Serena, Kellinar, you two will have to hang back. You do not yet have the necessary experience with a sword to wade into battle with Kojen. If Vaddoc, Kirynn, and I do not triumph, take Loki and try to get to Galdrilene.”

Maleena slept fitfully, her dreams filled with visions of fire and death all centered around the lake. Through it all she heard the low rumbling of the presence in her mind, almost as if the scenes troubled it as much as they did Maleena. As the dreams wound to an end, other images intruded. Images of Kojen creeping through the grasses near the campsite. The low rumble in her mind turned into a trumpeting warning. It reverberated through her body and she snapped awake, crying out to Mckale in warning.

He already stood braced, his swords drawn, waiting for them to come. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, sadness in their silvery depths. The quiet calm in his voice surprised her when he said, “Run, Maleena. Run as far as you can. I can feel them and there are too many. I will not be able to bring them all down.”

Her heart pounded painfully in her chest and fear coursed through her veins, but she shook her head. “I’ll not run and leave you to die.”

“I will die whether you run or stay. I fight for your life, don’t make me fight without hope. Please go while you have the chance.”

As the words left his mouth the Kojen burst into the campsite, appearing to boil up from the very grass itself. Their bodies were covered in sleeveless leather tunics and chain mail that left the blue-black skin of their arms bare.

“Run!” Mckale threw himself at the oncoming beasts and disappeared behind a wall of the towering creatures beasts. Their curled horns and massive arms made them seem even larger. One horned head snapped back, its mouth open in its broad face as a roar thundered from its throat. The fangs in its mouth made her blood run cold. The odor of rancid sweat washed over her and she gagged.

Terror weakened her knees and dried her mouth, but she stood her ground, desperate to find a way to help him. What could she do? Even if there was an extra sword she wouldn’t know what to do with it. Her cooking knife! Maleena pulled the small blade from the sheath at her waist. Her breath came in short gasps as she backed away, scanning the landscape for anything more substantial to use as a weapon. The little knife would have to do, but what could she do with it?

The frightened whinnies of her horse made her turn. Blain screamed and lunged at the end of his tether, trying to get to the Kojen. She ran toward the massive horse, grabbed the tether as close to the enraged stallion as she could and sawed through it with the knife. Freed, the battle trained horse charged the Kojen surrounding his rider. The stallion grabbed the first beast he came to by the back of the neck. The creature screamed as the animal threw it to the ground and struck at it with his hooves like an avenging shadow in the half light. Dark blood splattered across the ground as the stallion crushed the horned skull under the heavy pounding.

Blain lashed out at another beast. Maleena turned as her little mare broke her tether and ran like a whirlwind toward the lake. Maleena ran after her. The mare ran in blind fright until her hooves struck the sand. She shied violently, spun on her hindquarters and fled the other way.

Maleena stopped on the shore of the lake and turned to look back at the mass of Kojen where Mckale fought. He sustained too many wounds. She could feel it.

Several of the beasts turned toward her. The presence in her mind flared like a torch. She wrapped it around herself, feeling power grow within her. In desperation, she reached out for anything that would help her defeat the Kojen.

Directed by the memories of the presence that shared her mind, she began to weave her magic into a complicated pattern. Power poured into her body. Not all of the energy belonged to her. Some of it came from Mckale. It rippled off him in a stream and flowed into her. More streams came from two women and a man who joined the fight. Who were they? Where had they come from?

The torrent of power seethed and roiled inside her like a storm tossed ocean. Her weaving faltered to a stop. How did she finish it? She couldn’t see how to finish it. She couldn’t let something this big dissipate, it was too formed. If she released the unfinished weave, it would collapse into the Fates knew what. The energy of the magic pulsed in her and panic crept in at the edge of her thoughts. If she didn’t send it away, it would kill her.

Staggering, Maleena stumbled backward until she stood up to her knees in the water. The lake pulled at her. The power tore at her soul, pulling it away. Pain seared through body and mind. It felt as if she were about to shatter from the intensity of it. From somewhere, Mckale yelled her name and the woman she’d seen in her vision raced toward her, shouting something Maleena couldn’t hear.

She screamed out in her mind for help. The presence that shared her being echoed the cry and from somewhere in the depths of the water, it was answered.

A deep call filled the air and the surface of the lake resonated like a struck drum. As the first rays of the sun breached the horizon, the water in the center of the lake punched upwards in a tremendous fountain. The water fell back, cascading off a huge, translucent dragon. Glittering silver in the light of the rising sun, it hung above the water. Its violet eyes blazed with a fury that sent the approaching Kojen tripping over themselves in an attempt to escape.

The pull on Maleena’s soul ceased. She felt the dragon shielding her from the effects of the lake. Power thundered into her body. The small streams pouring off Mckale and the others turned into rivers. A new presence–stronger, older, wiser–entered her mind and showed her the way. Gathering the rivers of power, she bound them together and wove them into the most complicated lace she had ever worked. When she was done, the rivers of power returned to their owners. The weave hovered in the air.

Time seemed to stop for a brief moment.

A shockwave, riding on a pure white ring, exploded from her in all directions with the sound of roaring wind. It slammed into the Kojen, turning them briefly into charred statues before they shattered into millions of motes that floated on the light breeze.

Mckale and the others who fought with him staggered as the wave hit them, but stayed on their feet. It passed over Maleena’s horse and the little mare shuddered to a halt. Maleena watched the wave fade as it rolled out of sight.

Complete silence replaced the chaos of the battle. Maleena turned to look at the ghost dragon, hanging in the air above her. She swayed. Her whispered
thank you
was lost as she collapsed, her body in the water, her head laying at the edge of the sand. Everything faded as dark oblivion reached up to cradle her in its arms.

E
mallya stood frozen, her eyes on the crystalline dragon. Tears coursed down her face. “Rylin,” she whispered, pain and sorrow breaking her voice.

The ghost dragon turned toward her. The massive wedge-shaped head lowered until her gleaming eyes were level with her own. Emallya gasped as the presence of her dragon flooded her mind.

“The Foundling is strong. Only great power and a blood connection could pull me here. For you and for the draclet she will bond, I will continue to shield her from the lake while she is still in it.”

The familiar voice filled Emallya’s head and a strangled sob broke past her lips. Years of careful control shattered in that moment. Her heart felt as if it were breaking in two. How many years had she longed to hear that voice again?

Through the haze of tears, she saw a young man pull the girl from water.

Rylin began to sink back into the water. Emallya held out her hand. How could she stop her? How could she bear losing her again?
“Please stay.”

“Do not grieve. I am always here.”

Rylin’s final words seemed to hang in the air for Emallya. As if from a great distance, a faint keening cry of sorrow echoed on the air and an answering farewell shimmered off the surface of the water as the dragon disappeared back into its depths.

Silence settled over the lake, the water smooth as glass once more. Emallya stood, struggling to control the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm her. A tingle of pain washed through her body, a physical memory of the Separation. After several minutes she found the strength to push her emotions down and bury them deep where they could be dealt with later in private.

Emallya took a shaky breath and wiped the tears off her cheeks. The Foundlings needed her. They would have questions. She sighed, seeking the strength to face questions she hadn’t expected to answer yet. Some she may not be able to answer. How did that girl pull Rylin from the lake? This had to be the one she kept feeling the threads of power from. This girl was the silver she sought. Emallya gathered herself together and moved to the Foundling who had displayed such amazing powers.

The young man knelt on the beach, the girl in his arms. When Emallya approached, he looked at her with anguished eyes. “I cannot reach her. I can no longer feel her.”

Emallya froze in the act of leaning down. “Can you usually feel her?”

He looked down and brushed a strand of chestnut hair from the young woman’s face. “I don’t know how to explain it. I can feel if she is tired, or frightened, or…” He raised his eyes. “Just before…whatever happened, I felt terrible pain and I knew it was her pain. Now I am unable to feel her at all.”