Embers at Galdrilene (47 page)

There was silence around the table as everyone took in the implications. “So,” Kellinar said, “we could just go anywhere in a moment when we fly tomorrow?”

Bardeck shook his head. “No. Not tomorrow. Dragons begin to Slide about the same time they can flame. Usually around maturity which is two to three years. Your dragons I wager should be able to flame and Slide by the time they are a year or so old. Once they are old enough, you then have to practice. It’s possible to become lost in the fold if you don’t have a clear picture of where you are going.”

Vaddoc leaned forward. “Not so simple as it sounds at first, like most things. I take it that you can only Slide to places you have already been to.”

Emallya nodded in assent. “Or places that your dragon has seen. If say, Mckale and Tellnox have been someplace you have not, Tellnox can project the image to your dragon who can then share it with you.”

“Why can’t we go wherever we want to? Why does it have to be someplace we, or another rider, has been to?” Kellinar asked.

Emallya regarded him. “How can you Slide to a place you have never been? If no other rider has been there so their dragon can project a detailed picture, what will you base the Slide on? You cannot simply tell the fold where you wish to go. Your dragon must know exactly where it is headed. However, once you know where you are headed and your dragon is able, it is quite simple. It is something your dragon is hatched being able to do and as natural to them as flying or flaming.”

Serena asked, “You said they can do this while flying. Is that the only time?

Bardeck nodded, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. “Yes, they have to be airborne. It can be done when they are only a few paces off the ground, but it’s best if they do it from a good altitude. Opening a Slide near the ground can be dangerous for anyone around you. The edges will cut through nearly anything.”

They lapsed into silence while everyone finished their meal. When the table was set with coffee and tea, the conversation sprang back up. Kirynn paid little attention. While her companions talked about the thrill of flying and the possibilities of Sliding, she turned her mind to her next thrill.

After they finished their drinks and bathed, each retired to their respective lairs. Kirynn pulled off her clothes, wrapped her naked body in a thick, floor length robe and strode down the corridor to Vaddoc’s door. She paused before knocking.
“Syrakynn, can I have some privacy for a while tonight?”

“Certainly. I will be up on the ridge, contact me when you need me.”

“Can you pass the word to Namir?”

“I already have. He will join me on the ridge,”
Kirynn felt Syrakynn withdraw from her thoughts and her mind. The sudden absence would have been worrisome if Kirynn couldn’t still feel the dragon’s presence.

She knocked on the door and heard Vaddoc’s voice on the other side permitting entrance. He wasn’t in the room when she entered. She walked past the large bed and wardrobe to the doorway that led to Namir’s lair. The orange cat, always near Namir, blinked at her from the stone sleeping bench. Vaddoc stood on the ledge outside the lair looking up at the rim.

“Is something wrong?” Kirynn asked him.

He didn’t glance at her but continued staring up at the ridge. “For some reason, Namir just left my thoughts and flew up to the ridge. He has completely walled me off.”

“I know. Syrakynn has done the same with me.”

“Why?”

“I asked her to and she asked Namir to do the same with you, for me.”

Vaddoc turned his full attention to her. “Why?” he asked softly, confusion in his expression.

“I wanted a bit of privacy tonight.” She let the robe fall to the floor. The frigid night air made her skin pebble. She knew full well, even in the darkness, his bond sharpened eyes could see every naked curve of her body.

Vaddoc stood as if frozen, his eyes on her. “You are sure?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

He didn’t hesitate. He crossed the lair quickly; his arms went around her, lifting her feet from the floor. His mouth came down upon hers and she wrapped her legs around him as he carried her to the bed.

T
aela paced around the court garden in short, quick steps, unable to find pleasure in the first blooms of spring. Her mind raced as she tried to think of a way out of the marriage to take place in two days. She pushed away the strands of black hair brushing against her face. The cool breeze blew them back.

Only eighteen years of age, she didn’t want to be the seventh wife of Sehlas, first prince of Turindar. He showed no regard for even his first wife, never mind the others. In his house, she would be nothing more than the lowest ranked broodmare.

For a brief moment, she heard a soft crooning in her mind. It felt as if some other being tried to soothe her. The croon and the feelings had come before, always faint and always fleeting. Like the other times, she tried to reach out and connect with it, but it sputtered and died like a spent candle before she could hold on to it.

She could feel the emotions of others, sometimes even hear their thoughts. It seemed she had always felt others to a small degree, but the ability had become stronger and more pronounced since she first heard the crooning two months before. Her ability to feel others had something to do with magic, but what she did seemed so inconsequential, how could it harm anyone?

Taela stopped in her tracks as Sehlas rounded the far corner of the garden in the company of his man-servant. Three of his wives trailed behind him, all silent, eyes on the ground in front of them.

Everything in her being rebelled against such restraint. She didn’t care how well her marriage to the man would cement the relations of their nations; she would die if subjected to such a life. There must be a way out. Perhaps she could get him to change his mind, make him decide he didn’t want another wife right now.

Taela had never tried to manipulate the mind of another. The idea didn’t appeal to her that much, it didn’t feel right. But she couldn’t see any other way. If this didn’t work, she would either have to try running away or condemn herself to a life of misery.

Before Sehlas or those with him could see her, Taela stepped off the path and hid among a collection of carefully pruned and shaped greenery. She peered through the leaves at him and gingerly reached out for his mind and made the connection.

She wasn’t foolish enough to believe he might love her, or even have feelings for her. That was the stuff of books and tales told amongst women, not reality. But was it too much to ask that he thought of her at all? His thoughts were filled with the land rights and possessions he would acquire when they wed. She found nothing about her as a person. He saw her as a means to a gain, nothing more.

What she found, or rather didn’t find in his thoughts, firmed her decision. Taela reached further into his mind, taking firmer control, only vaguely aware of Sehlas stopping on the path to rub his temples. He resisted her urging. She gripped his mind tighter, felt a barrier, and pushed harder. It flexed but held. She needed him to change his mind. Maybe she needed to get the barrier out of the way. She focused all of her attention on it. It stretched, growing thinner. On the path, Sehlas clutched at his head and fell to his knees.

“If you put any more pressure on his mind, you will crush it. This is not the way.”

Taela nearly dropped her connection to Sehlas when she heard the softly spoken words in her mind. Shaken, Taela reached for the voice, tried to follow it to its source, but found nothing. The voice said she would break his mind if she put any more pressure on it, but how did she know it was true? People who could use magic were supposed to go crazy. Hearing disembodied voices in your head was definitely crazy.

She turned her attention back to Sehlas, still on his knees, holding his head while his man-servant fluttered around him anxiously. Would she crush his mind? Was the voice real? Taela took a deep breath to steady herself. She didn’t have a choice; she had to change his mind. She put more pressure on the barrier. It held for a moment then gave. She felt it snap.

In that moment, she regretted her decision to make him change his mind. She wasn’t sure what the barrier had been, but snapping it damaged his mind rather than allowing her to change it. The voice had been right.

She pulled away immediately. Sehlas lay on the ground, his limbs twitching. Her heart started to pound. She hadn’t wanted to ruin him. The man-servant yelled for help. It would arrive in moments. Already, a palace servant ran from the direction Sehlas had come. No one must find her here, skulking in the shrubbery. She moved onto the path intending to run toward Sehlas like everyone else. Not everyone had their full attention on the man on the ground.

The youngest of Sehlas’ attending wives, stared right at her as she stepped from behind the bushes. Their eyes met and a chill ran down Taela’s spine as sweat broke out on her forehead. The woman didn’t even glance at her husband, who lay twitching just a few feet from her. Instead she looked across the garden at Taela with a curious expression on her face. Taela reached out to the woman and felt in her mind a certainty that Taela was somehow the cause of her husband’s condition. The woman wasn’t sure how she felt about it yet.

Taela lifted her skirts and ran. Not toward Sehlas and the group gathering around him, but away from him and his youngest wife. Away from the knowledge in the woman’s mind. Away from the knowledge in her own mind that if she had listened to the voice, a man would not be lying on the ground in ruins.

She reached her chambers, slammed the heavy door shut in the face of a stunned maid-servant, and drew the locking latch down. Her legs started shaking and she had to sit on the short stool next to the door. She was going to die. There was no way she could sneak out of the palace and run away, though her mind raced through several scenarios anyway, each one less feasible than the last.

She put her face in her hands and gave into her terror, letting the hopeless tears come. A brush of cold stale air pulled at her, making her looked up. The sight of the figures standing in the center of her chamber drew a scream from her before she clamped her hands over her mouth. Tall and draped in black robes, their hoods hid their faces but not the glowing red of their eyes. Their sleeves didn’t quite cover hands that looked like bones covered in wrinkled, gray paper.

She stood, drawing a ragged breath. “Who…who are you? What are you?”

“We are Benduiren,” one said in a raspy voice.

“Benduiren,” the other echoed.

The first one spoke again, “I am Dreth, this is Bern, and you...you are in trouble.”

“In trouble,” the other echoed.

“We can help you if you want,” Dreth said. “We can take you away from here. We can give you the means to make sure no one can ever force you into a marriage you don’t desire. We can offer you a safe place to hone your magic so you don’t make mistakes like the one you just made. We offer you…sanctuary.”

“Sanctuary,” Bern echoed.

Fear, hope, confusion and indecision all pulled at Taela. What were these beings? What did they mean? The dark aura surrounding them made her uneasy and stole the moisture from her mouth. But they offered a way out. Maybe…

“No! Do not!” The voice in her head was back. It conflicted with the crooning hum in her mind. The hum encouraged her to accept the offer made by the two shadowy figures.