Rising From the Ashes: The Chronicles of Caymin (41 page)

“There are two things I must tell you,”
Ríona said.
“Péist cannot leave Inishbreith until he enters the firechamber. If he does not, he will never be able to breathe fire.”

“What is the firechamber?”

“He will know. It is a test for both of you.”

Caymin looked up at the dragon.
“A test of what?”

“Of your bond. Your trust in each other.”
Seeing that Caymin was about to question further, Ríona said,
“Do not worry. You will know what to do when the time comes.”

Caymin frowned but held back the questions that filled her mind.
“You said two things.”

“Other than the mages who have bonded with dragons, no two-leg has ever set foot on Inishbreith. That island has been a sanctuary for our kind for ages beyond even my memory. You must see to it that the two-leg there now can never tell any others about it. Humans who are not bonded to us cannot be trusted.”

“And how do I do that?”

Ríona raised her great head and gazed far out across the valley.
“You must silence him.”

Caymin gasped.
“You mean, I must kill him?”

“You will do what you must to keep our island a secret.”

Ríona lowered her head again.
“You must know, Caymin of Péist, that great things are needed of you. Another war is on the horizon, and you and your dragon will have to end it before it starts, or the damage will be unending.”

Caymin looked up at the ancient dragon.
“How can we stop a war?”

Ríona focused one gold eye on her.
“You must begin by forgiving.”

“Forgiving? Whom must I forgive?”

But the mist returned, obscuring the dragon from Caymin’s view. She called out, but there was no response.

The fog parted before her, and she knew she had no choice but to walk on, following where it led. The mist still surrounded her as she heard panicked voices calling, screaming. She hurried forward and stumbled onto a scene that made her heart go still.

She was in the forest, her forest. The meetinghouse was on fire, and outside it, Niall and Una stood back to back, fighting heavily armed warriors. Swords and staffs sang through the air, landing with clashes and thuds. Una took a blow to the arm and Caymin heard the bone snap as she cried out and dropped her staff. Caymin yelled and ran forward to stand between her and the warrior towering over her, but Niall’s sword jabbed through her from behind as if she wasn’t there – and she remembered she wasn’t.

Helplessly, she looked around and saw Ivar fighting three warriors at once, a sword in one hand, his other conjuring a line of flame to hold them at bay. Two children cowered behind him, holding their swords feebly.

She spotted Daina and Cíana aiming arrows from the cover of nearby trees. One of the invading warriors yelled and fell to the ground with an arrow through his neck. His gurgling cries were muffled by the noise of the fighting going on around him, but Caymin watched his blood soak into the soil beneath him.

A scream to one side made her whirl as Cuán and the other badgers ran snarling from the forest, attacking the warriors, biting and clawing at their legs and feet.

“NO!” This time, the scream erupted from Caymin as she saw a warrior plunge a spear into Cuán’s body. He fell, quivering, his eyes glazing over.

Dazed, she turned and saw Neela standing over a prone form on the ground, her staff shooting jets of light as she fended off yet more attackers. Caymin looked more closely and saw that the crumpled body on the ground was Enat.

She stumbled over, falling to her knees next to Enat who lay bleeding from a gash across her belly. Her bloody hands grasped her middle, but her gaze fixed on Caymin.

“We need you. Help us.”

Caymin tried to reach out to touch Enat’s face, but her hand was no more than smoke as it passed through.

The mist returned, and all sound was obscured. Caymin struggled to her feet, barely able to breathe for her grief.

“You must forgive.”

Ríona’s voice sounded in her ears.

“You will need to gather forces, allies who can help, who will follow a dragon and his mage. You must forgive.”

When Caymin opened her eyes, Péist was awake, waiting for her.

“You went to them.”

“Yes.”
She sat up, dazed. Beanna ruffled her feathers at the disturbance.

Outside, dawn was breaking. The fog had lifted.

“Ríona was waiting for me. She said Ailill is still alive. They have lived for over a thousand winters.”

“What else did she say?”

“You and I must go to the firechamber.”

“I have dreamt of it,”
Péist said.

Caymin wiped tears from her cheeks.

Beanna hopped onto her knee.
“Why do you cry?”

“I saw Enat and Ivar and all the others fighting. Warriors have invaded the forest. War has come. We must go back. And I think I must find Gai and his clan.”

“Why?”

She picked up her cloak and conjured a ball of flame to illuminate the cave as she looked at the crest of those she had always considered her enemies.

“We need their help.”

“Do you know it?”

Caymin paced as Garvan examined her cloak, studying the insignia woven into the cloth.

“Part of it.” He looked up at her. “The wolf is the symbol of the kingdom of the Eoganacht. But the rest, I think, is from the clans to the west, those who claim and protect the coastline.”

He reached down and dragged a finger through the dirt at his feet.

“There is a large protected bay here,” he said, drawing a map that Caymin recognized as Éire. “Just to the south of it, you will fly over three small islands and, beyond them, you will come to steep cliffs that drop into the sea. This is the land you seek.”

He eyed her closely. “What did you see?”

Her eyes shimmered with tears as she looked at him. She could not tell him of the dragons – no human could know they still existed somewhere to the west. And Ríona’s warning still echoed in her head – the warning that he would have to be silenced.

“War. War has come to the forest where live all those I love.”

“Are you sure ’tis happening now?”

She threw her hands up. “I do not know.”

“You told me you’ve seen things from the past, the attack on your village and the death of your father. Perhaps on these spiritwalks, you can be shown what is to come, or what might come.”

She paused her pacing. “Do you believe that?”

He shrugged. “Why would they ask you to come and help if it was all done?”

For the first time since she’d awakened from her spiritwalk, her heart slowed a bit. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I was shown those things now so that I may have time to alter what is coming.”

“What were they wearing, these warriors who were attacking your friends?”

Caymin frowned, trying to remember. She’d been so focused on the fighting that she hadn’t paid much attention to what the enemy was wearing. “Some wore robes, like yours. Others wore fur capes, like the northmen who invaded our forest last winter.”

Garvan’s expression darkened and he closed his eyes for a moment. “I’ve no magic to offer, Ash, but you have my aid, if you want it. I will come with you and help in any way I can.”

“Thank you, Garvan.”

It was the first time Péist had spoken his name, and his face flushed.

Péist nudged Caymin.
“You should tell him.”

“Tell me what?”

She looked at him. “My true name. The badgers called me Ash, and it was my name for many winters, until Enat came for me. When I went on my first spiritwalk, I learned my true name.” She laid a hand on Péist’s neck. “I am Caymin. Caymin of Péist.”

As it had the night she first claimed her name, the earth trembled. The very air shimmered with their power combined with that of the forest. Garvan looked around in fear and awe.

“Truly, you and your magic must be from the one God,” he whispered. “Never have I seen or felt such things, but I no longer believe them to be evil.” He knelt before her, pressing the hilt of his sword against his forehead and then holding it out to her. “My sword is yours to command.”

Touched, she placed a hand on his head. “Thank you, Garvan.”

“And how does he think we will all get back to our land?”
Beanna asked.

“I am bigger and stronger than I was when we came here,”
Péist said, masking his voice from Garvan’s hearing.
“I can carry all of you.”

“Are you sure? There will be no place for you to rest once we leave Inishbreith.”

“We must, so we will,”
Péist said.

Caymin thought for a long moment and then turned to Garvan. “You promised me your sword. Will you also promise me your silence?”

“What do you mean?”

She considered what she was about to do. “No human can learn of this island. You know that.”

“Aye. I know that.” His eyes narrowed as he regarded her. “You’re supposed to kill me, aren’t you?”

She looked away. “I am supposed to silence you. If you give me your word, that is good enough for me.”

He still knelt in front of her. “I give you my vow. No one will ever learn of this island from me. But you haven’t told me how we’re to get back to Éire.”

Caymin smiled. “You will ride on the back of a dragon.”

CHAPTER 27

Trial by Fire

I
t took two days for them to prepare – two days of worry and frustration for Caymin as she fretted the attackers would get to the forest before they could.

“Remember,”
said Beanna.
“You were shown what might come so that you could gather forces to aid us. There is time.”

Garvan insisted they travel with enough food to supply them for several days.

“You don’t know that you’ll be welcome with Gai’s clan,” he pointed out. “We may have to observe them from a distance or seek help elsewhere. We should be prepared.”

Péist hunted and Garvan fished, and then they spent time drying and smoking the meat while Caymin gathered as many roots as she could.

“It is time,”
Péist said.

“Time for what?” Garvan asked as he built up the fire on his makeshift smokehouse.

Caymin stood. “I do not know when we will return.”

Garvan sat up and looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“There is something we must do before we leave the island.”

Beanna flapped to Caymin’s shoulder.

“No,”
Caymin said.
“You must wait here as well. I do not know what we will face, but it is for dragons and their mages only.”

Beanna fixed her with a baleful eye.
“Very well, but I am waiting in the cave, not with the two-leg.”

Caymin smiled.
“I promise, we will seek you first when we return.”

She climbed up into the saddle and Péist spread his wings, launching them skyward. He soared over the island, circling. She wondered where they were destined when she felt something pull at them, taking Péist into a waking trance. He flew out over the sea. Suddenly, he banked and dove, aiming for the cliff-face. She opened her mouth to yell just as the magical façade of rock in front of them melted away, revealing an opening larger than their cave. Péist flew straight in, flying deeper into the mountain. Torches ignited as they passed, illuminating a tunnel that took them down, down into the bowels of the mountain. The torches became more sporadic, the tunnel darker until the only light was Péist glowing white in the darkness of the mountain.

“It is hard to breathe,”
Caymin said, covering her mouth with her sleeve against the hot, toxic air.

“Just here,”
said Péist, landing with a jolt.

He walked now, still following the tunnel as it angled downward. Caymin was certain they must be far below the island by now. They saw a red glow ahead of them, and a hot wind blew Caymin’s braids off her shoulders.