Flameseeker (Book 3) (22 page)

“I am not entirely sure, myself.” Zarya lay her
hands on Omari’s spellbook and spoke a soft prayer, restoring the sopping wet pages
to their dry, crisp state.

“I’m sure one of these fine folks ’ere’ll be able
to fill us in once everyone’s awake,” Nester said.

Kaijin looked over to Jarial and saw that he
hadn’t awoken.
Maybe Master Jarial needs Sable
. Kaijin left his friends
and returned to the pile of junk and began searching for Sable. Miele helped.

After several long minutes, Kaijin spotted
something black and furry caught between two broken crates. He tried to move
them himself, but they were much too heavy. He looked around for Aidan to help,
but the half-Dragon was still sitting with Clarice. The two of them appeared to
be talking, and Kaijin did not want to interrupt, so he called on one of the
survivors next to him who had been scrounging around the junkpile. Together,
they managed to heft one of the crates off, revealing Sable. Her sodden body was
contorted as if she’d been crushed and maimed. Kaijin carefully picked her up,
uncovering Jarial’s spellbook beneath. Sable’s body felt limp and heavy in
Kaijin’s arms. “Sable!” he exclaimed.

Jovi drew over to him. “More animals? How did we
manage to overlook them? Well, no matter. I shall see that this one is helped,
as well.”

Kaijin handed Sable to Jovi, who handed her to Hexi—the
teenaged girl Kaijin had seen earlier go fetch water for her mother—to tend to.
Hexi prayed over the animal and summoned her divine magic. Sable’s body healed,
and soon, she sprang back to life.

Kaijin smiled and exhaled a sigh of relief. He retrieved
Jarial’s spellbook, then continued his search for his own. After several
minutes of searching, he found it under a clothes pile. He snatched it and held
it tightly in his arms.
Oh, thank the gods.
Relieved, he returned to
Jarial.

Sable purred and watched her master. She licked
his wrinkled face, but he still didn’t stir. Hexi knelt beside Jarial’s body and
summoned divine magic in the form of pure white light in her hands that
encompassed the mage’s body. Yet, once she ended her prayer and the light in
her hands and around Jarial’s body disappeared, the mage remained still. Kaijin
swallowed.
No, Master. Please ... Don’t be dead!

Hexi stood up, her face looking somber. “I’m
sorry.”

Sable went from licking Jarial’s face to nipping
his ear. Jarial’s face contorted in pain, and he jerked slightly.

Kaijin’s eyes widened, unsure whether what he saw
was real or not. He knelt on the other side of Jarial and held his hand.
“Master?”

Kaijin felt Jarial squeeze his hand.
He’s
alive!
Kaijin beamed.

Sable meowed and twitched her tail.

Jarial’s eyelids fluttered open, and his
slate-grey eyes stared blankly toward the ceiling for a moment before he turned
his head to Kaijin. He slowly mouthed Kaijin’s name.

Kaijin nodded. “Yes, Master. It’s me.”

Hexi sighed, smiling weakly. “Celestra be
praised!” She wiped a layer of sweat from her brow.

Kaijin looked over at her. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Hexi stood. “Please see my father if
you require anything else. I am very tired.”

After Hexi left, Jarial released Kaijin’s hand and
slowly sat up, grunting. Sable meowed and wove around her master’s arms and
body. With a smile, Jarial pulled her into his lap and stroked her fur.

“I think Sable tried to protect your spellbook,
Master.” Kaijin handed Jarial’s leather book to him. “I hope it’s not
completely ruined.”

Jarial stared blankly at the book before taking
it. “Thank you, Kaijin,” he said, not looking at him.

They were soon joined by Nester, Omari, and Zarya,
who applied her magical mending skills to Jarial’s and Kaijin’s spellbooks.

Percival and Sable greeted each other with sniffs
and nuzzles, then chased each other around the cave, darting amongst the other survivors.
Miele joined in the play, swooping on them both from the air.

“I’m glad to see you are all awake and well,” Jovi
said to Kaijin and his friends. “Terrible, indeed, what has happened....” He
went on to tell them about the storm, and the ship’s unfortunate fate.

“So we’re stranded here?” Zarya asked after he finished.

“Not at all,” Jovi replied. “Our clan will escort
everyone to the Harran tonight. I’m certain the mages there will give you food,
better accommodations, and help to reach Sinan safely. Sinan is about a half a
day’s journey south of here.”

Omari blinked. “The
Harran
? Then that must
mean we are ... And, this place is—!” He sprang up, looking around at the rest
of the cave.

Kaijin watched him curiously.

“But ... Dragons ...” Omari muttered. “He always
talked about the Dragons....”

Jovi smiled wryly at Omari.

“Omari, what are you rambling about?” Jarial
asked.

Omari glanced at Jarial, then looked toward the
exit. “The Harran. My father is there.”

XXIV

Early that evening, after the sun had set and Ankhram’s
dry climate had cooled, Kaijin, his friends, and the seventeen other survivors
followed Jovi, Hexi, and Graask, who were still in their human forms, to the
mountain, while the remainder of the Dragon clan stayed behind.

Kaijin walked in silence, listening to the conversation
of his friends and the survivors around him as he took in the new lands. It was
just as he’d remembered seeing in books: clear skies, a sea of wind-rippled
sand dunes, and very little water and vegetation. His mother had once told him
she had come from this country.

Miele screeched, and Kaijin glanced upward,
spotting her rapidly fluttering wings against the starlit sky.

Kaijin looked sidelong at Jarial, who had
discreetly assumed his youthful appearance before they left the cave. Sable trudged
alongside him, frequently shaking the sand from her paws as she walked.

“Does your father know anything about what’s going
on, Omari?” Jarial asked.

Omari shrugged. “I am uncertain, but our family
has been quarreling with the Beshara for years. Whether or not my father has
put anything in motion against our family’s rivals has yet to be seen.”
Percival, his ears swiveling about at the slightest sounds, sat atop Omari’s
shoulder and observed his surroundings.

“I am rather intrigued about meeting your father,”
Kaijin said.

Omari snorted. “Why?”

“You once told me a story about him, his travels
to Ghaeldorund, and how he revived the Harran. He sounds like a man with a lot
of wisdom.”

Omari raised his nose up at him. “Of course he is.
But he does not speak to
foreigners.
He is very dignified.”

Jarial rolled his eyes. “You mean a self-centered,
pompous ass? Hmm ... Like father, like son.”

Omari stared at Jarial, open-mouthed. “Do not
speak ill of my father.”

“‘Ill’? Jarial raised his eyebrows. “I am merely
stating fact. If he really
is
so heartless and selfish that he would not
try to aid us all—or at least hear our news about the Beshara—because he
supposedly holds some prejudice toward ‘foreigners’, then he would be a pompous
ass. A foolish, pompous ass.”

Omari huffed then scowled. He strode ahead of
them, setting his pace beside Jovi.

Kaijin looked to Jarial, who kept his gaze locked
on Omari. Kaijin was about to protest Jarial’s harshness toward Omari when he
heard a small rumble behind him.

“Oy! I’m ’ungry!” Nester held his stomach as he
trudged along. “I ’ope they got food where we’re goin’.

Kaijin felt a smile tug at his lips. The thought
of food had him suddenly feeling hunger pangs, as well. “You and me both,
Nester.”

* * *

Aidan and Clarice walked behind the rest of group,
chatting. Aidan had been so intrigued with the woman, he’d lost track of the
time. It was a strange curiosity, meeting someone else like him, yet their
lives had been vastly different. Clarice was seemingly a woman of adventure,
where Aidan preferred to be grounded and consistent.

“So you have not always been a seafarer?” Aidan
asked.

Clarice stared straight ahead and frowned. “No,
but I chose the carefree life o’ the sea to get away from the shite on land.”

Aidan blinked. “You ran away?”

Clarice turned her head and glared at him. “No, I
didn’t ‘run away’, ya dolt! It was time for me to go.”

Aidan tore his gaze from her and stared at the
ground.
Maybe I shouldn’t, but ...
Licking his lips, he looked ahead at
the rest of the group. They didn’t seem to pay the two of them any mind. He
spotted Zarya amongst the group, talking with Hexi. She glanced over her
shoulder toward Aidan, and for a moment, their gazes met. Aidan averted his
eyes back to Clarice, and he asked in a low voice, in Draconic, “If you don’t
mind my asking, what happened?”

Clarice looked at him pensively for a moment, then
nodded absently as though she was trying to decipher what he said. She scowled
and replied in Common, “I
do
mind! It ain’t none of your damned
business.” She must’ve noticed the odd look on his face, because she then added
in a low voice, “My Draconic ain’t as strong as it once was.”

Aidan nodded. “Aidan understands. And he is sorry
if he got too personal with question.”

“Bah.” She waved her hand at him.

“So what will you do once we reach our destination?”

Clarice shrugged. “Help my remaining crewmates
find a new ship. We’re not lettin’ one little bloody storm keep us from shovin’
off again.”

Aidan smiled. Her determination was incredible.

“We’ll have to find us a new captain, though.” She
sighed. “I was quite fond of ol’ Tibbetts. He was the one who took me in and
showed me the life o’ the seas.”

Aidan rubbed his chin. “Why can’t you be the new
captain?”

Clarice blinked at him in disbelief. Then she laughed.
“Ya think it’s that easy for some lowly deck-swabber to suddenly become
captain?”

“Aidan does not think you are ‘some lowly
deck-swabber’.”

“Flattering, Aidan, but it is what I am, and it is
what I signed up for when I joined this crew. First Mate Crowley will naturally
become the new captain, not me. He can be a bit of a sharptongue sometimes, but
I’ll deal with it. Besides, he knows I can out-drink him if he ever challenged
me.” She chuckled. “Anyway, I’ll be swabbin’ the decks of his new ship soon
enough.”

Aidan frowned. Clarice had seemed to become a different
woman, different from the brash, confident woman he’d first met on the ship,
who’d beat him in drinking and arm-wrestling. Much of the crew respected her,
it seemed, and those who didn’t, she easily put in their place. It puzzled him
why she’d now become so hesitant—almost fearful—of aspiring to greater things.

“Look, Aidan. I appreciate the thought. I really
do. But that’s just how things work in the seafarin’ world.”

“It doesn’t have to. You should change things.”

Clarice rolled her eyes. “It’s taboo enough that
I’m a seafaring woman, and a half-breed at that. I was grateful when Tibbets
took me in. Now, I don’t want to start trouble where there is none.”

“But you are devaluing yourself. You deserve to aspire
to so much more than this. Aidan thinks you should take that chance and let
your voice be heard.”

“No one’s gonna listen to me, Aidan.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause I’m not captain material! I’m better off
swabbing the decks like I always have. I’m content with that.”

Aidan shook his head. “You don’t have to be. Aidan
thinks you have proven yourself already. You not only know the seas well, but
you are strong in both mind and body, determined, and not afraid to put someone
in their place if they cross you. And if your previous captain took you in and
personally taught you the seafaring ways, then Aidan thinks without question
that you would be perfect one for job.”

Clarice fought down a smile. “Ya not gonna stop
pesterin’ me about this, are you?”

Aidan shook his head firmly, failing to fight down
his own smile. “Not until you accept, or at least think about it.”

She looked ahead and kept silent for a moment as
if she were pondering something. Then, she said, “I’ll think about it.”

* * *

The moon had almost risen to its highest point by
the time Kaijin and the rest of the group arrived the foot of a brazier-lined
mountain path. Jovi stopped, signaling everyone else to do the same. He waved up
toward a cliff near them, to something—or someone. Moments later, a light
appeared at the edge of the cliff not far above the group. The source of the
light came from the top of a thin staff that a robed young woman held. The
light brightened, revealing her stern face.

“Good evening, Lady Leilanna.” Jovi swept into a
bow.

She returned the bow. “Greetings, Jovi. A pleasure
and honor to see you again.” Her voice held a rich accent. “Who are all those
people?”

“Friends,” Jovi replied. “They were shipwrecked in
a storm. I am hoping that your
shak’ha
will be so kind as to offer them a
place to stay for the time being.”

Lady Leilanna assessed the group for a moment,
then she disappeared in a burst of flame. Moments later, she reappeared in
front of Jovi.

Scowling, Jarial inched closer toward them. Kaijin
slowly followed.

“With all due respect, Great One,” she said in a
hushed voice. “
Shak’ha
Amil is too busy to entertain the likes of these
foreigners.”

Jovi chuckled. “Too busy to even see his own son?”
He tilted his head at Omari.

Leilanna looked at Omari, who stepped forward. She
blinked, and then gasped. “Y—Young master? Is it—Is it really you?”

“It is, my lady,” Omari replied with a polite nod.
“I have returned.”

She bowed deeply and repeatedly. “It has been so
long! Forgive me! Forgive me!”

“‘Young master’?” Jarial muttered, smirking.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Didn’t think the stuck-up bastard actually had some
distinction around here.”

Overhearing Jarial’s quip, Kaijin stifled a laugh.

Omari looked back toward the rest of the group,
his eyes darting about as if he was nervous. He looked to Leilanna and put his
hand on her shoulder to stop her bowing. “Enough. Just inform my father of our
arrival, please.”

“Yes, of course!” She disappeared again in a flash
of flame and appeared back on the cliff. “Please, continue.” Her eyes lit up in
fiery magic, and she bowed her head, placing a finger to her lips. Kaijin
recognized a
message
spell in progress.

Omari turned back to the group, looking guilty.
Whispers about Omari rose from the crowd. Jarial walked up to him, and Kaijin
followed.

“A
shak’ha.
Is that something like a king
in your country?” Jarial asked, his brow wrinkling slightly.

“No, not quite, Master Glace,” Omari replied. “It
is more like the elder’s status at the Citadel.”

Jarial’s smirk returned. “Is that so? And you are
his son? How ironic.”

“Wow, Omari, I didn’t know you were
that
important,”
Kaijin said.

Scowling, Omari crossed his arms over his chest.
“And what in the confounded hells is
that
supposed to mean, Kaijin?”

“Uh ...” Kaijin scratched the back of his head.
“Well, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

Omari took a deep breath. Then, with a tempered
huff, he spun and faced his back to them. “Come on. Let us keep moving,” he
said sharply.

Jovi stepped back from the group. “And this is
where I depart. It was an honor for me and my family to be able to aid you all.
May the goddess protect and guide you.” In a shower of electric sparks, Jovi
transformed into a majestic teal-colored Dragon that towered over the group.
Behind them, Hexi and Graask also transformed, but they were smaller than Jovi.

The Dragons backed from the group a ways, then
they stretched their wings and leapt in the air, drawing up wind and sand as
they took off. They soared soared high in the night sky, the moonlight shimmering
off their scales, and they wheeled toward the coast, disappearing in the night.

* * *

The trip up the mountain path was long and tiring.
Kaijin, walking alongside Omari and Jarial, looked behind them. He could see
the bottom of the mountain, as well as the landscape beyond, toward the
coastline where the Dragons’ den lay.

I wonder how far we’ve traveled?

Miele screeched above him, and Kaijin looked ahead
again, halting his musings.

The Harran’s massive stone building towered before
them, almost comparable in size to the Pyre. Images crafted in gold and silver
embellished the walls and pillars of the exterior. Large flags and banners,
depicting an eye above an open book, hung along the walls of the corner towers.

Kaijin sensed strong magic surrounding the building—an
invisible, protective prism. He was familiar with the simple spell, yet it had
somehow been enhanced considerably.

The landscape around the exterior stood in stark
contrast to the surrounding desert. Lush grasses, shrubs, and colorful flowers
all grew in profusion from the sand and rocky ground, creating a neatly-lined
path leading to the front entrance.

Omari banged the gold knocker of the building’s ornately
carved wooden double doors. Moments later, a blue-robed young man answered it.
His brown eyes widened when he looked at the group.

“A message was sent to the
shak’ha
about
our arrival,” Omari announced. “I am Omari Batsuyou, son of
shak’ha
Amil. May we enter?”

The man scrutinized Omari. “Young master ... ? No,
it—it cannot be ... It has been over twenty years ...”

Omari pursed his lips. “Indeed, I have aged, and I
have returned. If it is proof that you require, then behold.” He held up his
right hand, revealing the obsidian ring on his finger. “This is my father’s
favorite ring that was stolen from him in Ostwyn many years ago, but I managed
to find it again. He will be very glad to get this back.”

The man’s jaw dropped. “The Ring of the Twin
Moons! That
is
his! Y-Young master! It really
is
you! Please
forgive me for questioning you before!” He bowed several times.

Omari touched his shoulder, stopping him from bowing.
“No need for that. Just let me and my convoy through.”

The man lowered his head. “Yes, of course. My name
is Tariq, and it is such a high honor.” He escorted the group inside and led
them through a massive foyer and into a library, where rows of books stretched
as high as the vaulted ceiling. The smell of parchment and old ink tickled
Kaijin’s nose. People in colored robes stepped quietly along the balconies high
above them, holding books in their arms or searching the shelves. A few stopped
and leaned over the railings to watch the group pass.