Shieldwolf Dawning (15 page)

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Authors: Selena Nemorin

BOOK: Shieldwolf Dawning
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Samarra dropped into the hole and Brin jumped in after her. "Pull the door shut, please?"

Brin obliged and everything went black. "I can't see a thing."

"No kidding."

Brin clicked his fingers. A small flame appeared in the palm of his hand and illuminated his face. He concentrated on the flame until it grew to twice its original size.

Samarra was impressed. "Wow, how did you do that?"

"My mother taught me." He walked to the other side of the large room.

"Lucky!"

The underground bunker was wall-to-wall rock. To one side was a large wooden door and to the other was an opening to a dark tunnel. Brin took two torches from their resting places on the wall. He lit each one and then blew out the flame in his hand. "It's dark all the way through." He handed a torch to Samarra. "Don't let your torch blow out."

Samarra followed him closely. "You sound like you've been here before."

"I have, but not all the way to the other side of the tunnel."

"Why not?" Samarra trailed her fingers along the cool wall.

"I didn't think it was a good idea to go there on my own. What if I got lost? Who would know where to find me?"

"Smart thinking, I guess." When they reached a dead end, Samarra turned to Brin. "What do we do now?"

"Wait and see." Brin tapped his tail on a blue slab in the ground. A ball of light appeared in the centre of the wall and grew outward to form a door barred shut from the inside. Samarra removed the bar and tried to push the door open.

"I need your help."

After a lot of effort the door swung open. Samarra stepped out of the tunnel and into a ravine. The landscape was cradled in a barrier of snow-tipped mountains that reached into the clouds. Directly in front of her, a crater lake was pinned in place by a rainbow arcing over its glistening surface. The area was restful and calm.

"Where do you want to go? There?" Samarra pointed out the sandy trail to her right. "There?" She pointed to the trail that led to the lake. "Or there?" She pointed to her left.

"You choose."

Samarra checked her holowatch. "We have about four hours before Shieldwolf Longmane returns, so we have time. Let's go that way." She headed down the trail to her right.

****

The path Samarra had chosen wound its way through increasingly dense forest. The air was clean and fresh and the ground cover was slightly damp despite the heat. A pair of snowy griffins sat perched on a fallen tree stump and watched the world with curious eyes. Farther down the path, a school of pixies chased each other in circles. They screamed wildly when they noticed Samarra approaching. The air around them sparkled and the pixies vanished from sight.

"Brin," Samarra said.

"Yes?"

"What were the Shieldwolves talking about in the mess hall?"

"I don't know much about that."

"Well, you seem to know something. Who's Eshgranna?"

"Eshgranna?"

"Yes."

"Eshgranna is the leader of the Ikajarri. She was once a Shieldwolf." Brin took a deep soft hiss.

"I thought the oath to Shieldwolves is for life."

He nodded. "It is. She left the Shieldwolves when she found the Grimoire of Signs during a patrol. My mother told me the flux magic in the book drove Eshgranna mad."

"So what happened?"

"Deserting the Shieldwolves is punishable by death. Battlegroups were sent to find her, but when they reached the cave where she was hiding, it was empty."

Samarra already knew about the consequences of leaving the Shieldwolves. A rogue Shieldwolf, Merganser had said, was a most dangerous thing. Although Samarra was uncomfortable at the thought, she was not surprised at Eshgranna's fate. "Where did she go?"

Brin shrugged. "She disappeared for three years. On the eve of a Blood Moon, Irik dreamt that Eshgranna had phased into the Flux. When she phased back, she brought flux magic with her and attacked Hokken Sol with an army of Watchers."

"What are Watchers?"

"Some say that Watchers are fallen Shining Ones who get trapped in the Flux because of their evil deeds. Others just call them monsters."

"Monsters?"

Brin nodded. His mood seemed sombre. "Monsters."

Tiny goose bumps formed on the back of Samarra's neck. "Tell me more."

"Eshgranna was captured during battle. Instead of putting her to death, the Elders took mercy and sentenced her to a frozen sleep state in Mirabuka Landing, a prison of ice to the north."

"What about the Grimoire of Signs?"

"It's never been found."

They walked in silence. Samarra reflected on what she had just heard, feeling her heart grow heavy as more pieces of the puzzle came together. "I know I've made a big mistake," she said under breath. "How will I ever make it up to Cass?" Right then and there, Samarra vowed to herself that she would do everything she could to make amends with her brother.

Brin tugged gently on her arm. "Look over there."

Hidden by the trees to their right, a big cat scanned the perimeter for prey. Samarra quickened her pace down the path in case it changed its mind and followed them. It was not long before Samarra suspected they were walking in circles. "Why do I think that I've been past this tree stump already?"

"There are tree stumps everywhere. How do you know it's the same one?"

Samarra pointed at the stump. "It looks like two symbols have been carved into it."

"Hmm."

"See?" She traced the outline of a symbol. "This one is of an egg, I think." Brin crouched down for a closer look. She pointed at the second symbol. "And this one looks like a dragon."

Brin growled.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes." He stood up and shielded his eyes to gauge their location according to the position of the sun. "I wish I hadn't left my tablet in my locker. A map would be good."

"I don't have mine either. If we don't find our way out of here soon, things are going to get ugly. Shieldwolf Longmane already hates me."

"He's strict with everyone, Samarra. Not just you."

"I don't know about that."

"Well…" He looked around nervously. "You wouldn't be the only one getting into trouble, would you?"

"I guess you're right. It's easier to do things in pairs."

Brin chuckled. "We should go up that way." He pointed out a trail behind the tree stump. They had barely gone a few metres when a shrill call burst through the trees.

"K
ukkokiekuu
."
The call echoed throughout the area.

"What was that?" Samarra tried to pin down where the noise was coming from.

"I'm not sure."

"Kukkokiekuu
."

"That's old archeop speak," Brin said. "It sounds like he's calling for help."

"Help? We better check it out."

Brin frowned. "Do we have to?"

"Brin, how could you?" She placed her hands on her hips, her expression disapproving.

"I guess we should help." Brin led the way toward the persistent call until they reached a dead end. Veering off the sandy path, the pair went deeper into the woods.

Chapter Ten

Suthum's Cradle

Finding the source of the echo was a challenge for Samarra. At first it sounded like it was coming from up ahead, then it was to the side or coming from behind. At times the echo even felt as though it rose from the moss-covered ground.

"The echo's bouncing from mountain to mountain." Brin pointed to the rocky crags surrounding them. "The acoustics are good. This place would be great for a concert."

"Please don't sing," Samarra begged under her breath.

"Beg your pardon?" Brin wrinkled his snout quizzically. "Why do you want me to sing?"

"No! I don't."

"Kukkokieku.
"
The call came again.

"Come on, Brin." Samarra grabbed his arm. "It's coming from this way."

They raced down the path and into an open space. Samarra could make out the gaping mouth of a cave through the trees. Long ribbons of seaweed littered the area. The stench of rotten vegetation clung to the air. Standing at the entrance of the cave was the archeop who had delivered the message from Shieldwolf Longmane. His right foot was caught in a trap of vines and roots.

He cupped his clawed wings around his short, thick conical beak.
"
Kukkokieku,
"
he called into the cave. He bent down to grab his ankle and pulled with all his might.

Samarra ran to him. "Are you all right?"

"Do I look like I'm all right?" He glared at her before he went back to trying to free himself. "I'm stuck."

Brin grunted. "Really?"

Samarra wanted to grab Brin's attention, but he kept his focus on the archeop.

"Are you going to help or stand around staring at me for the rest of the day?" the archeop complained.

Brin folded his arms over his chest and studied the cave. His soft growl was deadly.

"You don't have to be so rude." After a bit of a struggle, Samarra pried open the trap and it retracted into the ground. The archeop stumbled free and grabbed Brin for support, but Brin stepped out of reach. His growl was louder than before. The archeop steadied himself and backed away.

Samarra wiped her hands on her fatigues. "You're as free as a bird." She stood up and chuckled at her bad joke. The archeop studied her face in unimpressed silence. Brin scowled.

The archeop moved closer to the cave. He cupped his claws over his beak.
"Kukkokiekuu."

Samarra rushed at him. "Shh!" She clamped his beak shut. "Why are you still calling for help?"

The archeop brushed her hand away with disdain. "I am Whistler Greyfeather." He puffed out his chest. Why would
I
be calling for help?"

"You're not calling for help?"

He shook his head.

"So what
are
you doing?"

"I'm asking Suthum to come out."

Samarra looked at Brin questioningly.

Brin shrugged "They both start with '
kukko
.'
I'm sorry. I made a mistake."

"You should be used to making mistakes by now." Whistler sneered. "After all, you are a platophibian." He cupped his claws over his beak. Samarra knocked them away.

"Stop it," she warned through gritted teeth. "Who's Suthum?"

Whistler pointed at Brin. "Didn't your sidekick tell you about the dragon?"

Samarra glared at Brin. Brin glared at Whistler who had started to laugh. When Whistler noticed he was the only one laughing, he admired the ground and traced pictures in the dirt with his talons.

"I had forgotten about Suthum until I saw the symbols on the tree stump." Brin pointed at Whistler. "And then helmet-head over there started up, so I didn't have time to tell you."

"You forgot to tell me that a dragon lives here?" Samarra asked. "How could you forget something like that?"

The crest of grey spikes on Brin's head stood upright like a Mohawk. "I'm sorry."

"
Kukko
—"

Samarra clamped her hands over Whistler's beak. "I thought I told you to stop it," she said through gritted teeth.

"Why?"

Samarra pointed at the dark opening. "If a dragon lives in that cave, it's going to come out to check on the fuss. When that happens, we're goners. I read all about dragons on the green tablet. They're not the friendliest bunch, are they?"

Whistler was firm. "But I want to see the treasure stashed in there. I might even pocket a souvenir or two." He glanced around as if the trees were hiding a multitude of ears and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I want to know if the stories are true."

He instantly had Samarra's undivided attention. "What stories?"

"The ones about Suthum."

"Tell me." Samarra prodded, eager to know more.

"Suthum is the last gold dwarf female dragon known to the Kairu," Whistler explained. "She lives in this cradle with her only offspring."

"The Shieldwolves have bound her to this area until she dies," Brin said.

"Poor dragon!" Samarra cried.

"Poor dragon?" Brin said in disbelief. "Suthum is dangerous."

"That's what
they
say." Whistler waved his right wing in the direction of Shieldwolf Proper. "Dangerous or not, I want to see for myself. I also want to see her dragonling. Nobody has ever laid eyes on him, not even the Shieldwolves." With resolve, Whistler marched to the mouth of the cave.

"Wait." Samarra grabbed his wing. "Tell me more about Suthum."

Brin nodded at Whistler. "If he knows anything about the dragon, he would know that Suthum eats archeop. He's aware of it, and he doesn't care. It follows, then, that he's a dumb—"

"Shut your gob, plock-face!" Whistler's round head ruffled to twice its normal size. He stretched out his wings to make himself look bigger.

"Come on," Samarra said. "Don't argue."

Brin and Whistler eyed each other with generations of contempt.

"How do you know the stories are true?" Whistler asked Brin. "They're probably made up. Unlike platophibians who believe everything they're told, I want to know the truth for myself."

Brin was seething. "I'm going to—"

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