Song of the Beast (48 page)

The smiling prince shook his head, raw emotion adding a rasp to his voice. “I was afraid we'd get here too late, but Davyn swore that Lara would save you if anyone could. A number of Ridemark warriors were most displeased when we released Lara, and she insisted on coming here alone while we convinced them we were right. She even left Davyn behind, so he could guide us through the mountains.”

Aidan looked around the shoreline. “Is she all right? There was fighting ... gods, where is she?”

“She's well, I think. But I don't know where she's gotten off to.”

I shrank deeper into the shadows and sank to the damp stone, wishing they would all go somewhere else. I had no place with these people.

Before the two of them could discover my hiding place, Davyn returned carrying a large leather bag. He and Aidan greeted each other as brothers.

“Davyn, have you seen Lara?” said Aidan.

The Elhim looked about sharply, then shook his head. “No. Not since I left for the cavern. She seemed unharmed.”

The prince joined them, and Davyn dumped out the bag—bloodstones. “I think this is all of them, unless he's squirreled more away. I'll bring in other Elhim to search more thoroughly. Your men have rounded up a few more conspirators in the cavern; most of the villains haven't arrived as yet.”

The prince jerked his head toward Narim, who stood watching all this bleakly. “What am I to do with him? Hanging seems appropriate for one who attempts the life of King Devlin's cousin.”

Sorrow shadowed Aidan when he looked on Narim. “Let him go. Let them all go. There's nothing you can do that will compare to what's going to happen. Soon, I think.” He glanced up at the quiet night, and the hair on my arms and neck prickled. For even as he said it, a growing darkness obscured the stars in every direction. Wind rose beyond the heights and lightning licked the clifftops. “I would suggest you all take shelter,” said Aidan. “No harm is intended, but accidents could happen.”

Though looking puzzled, the prince ordered his men to take the Elhim prisoners back to the caves. When the soldiers grabbed Narim's arm, the Elhim resisted, growling furiously. At a nod of Prince Donal's head, the soldiers left Narim by the edge of the water, his hands bound and his feet tied loosely so he could not run. He said nothing more and paid no attention to anyone. I remained in my hiding place at the bottom of the great boulder. Aidan would not follow his own advice and climbed up on the boulder above my head. Neither Prince Donal nor Davyn would leave him. They stood uncertainly only a few steps away from me. And so we waited, though I didn't know for what.

Black clouds drove in from all sides. The wind whipped the lake into froth. Thunder rolled continuously, booming and crashing from the cliffs. Before very long, Narim rose slowly and awkwardly to his feet, craning his neck, scanning the sky. “MacAllister,” he said, his voice choked with horror, “what have you done?”

Dragons! Fifty or a hundred of them gathered over us, blotting out the stars, and as if at a herald's trumpet blast, they released a firestorm upon the lake. The water churned and boiled, filling the air with smoke and steam. In a deafening explosion of wind and water, stone and fire, the rocky dam that held the water in the valley was blasted into dust. First a hissing stream and then a flood poured through the gaps in the rock wall and swept the remaining barrier away. As each screaming dragon released its cache of flame, it circled the valley and disappeared westward.

By the time dawn light colored the drifting fog, the air was still. The only sound was the distant rush of falling water, as the last of the lake drained into the lowlands. One dragon remained, a blot of gleaming copper, perched on the clifftops far across the gaping emptiness.

Davyn and the prince emerged from behind the boulder pile, where flying shards of broken rock and scalding spray had forced them to take shelter, and gaped at the empty lakebed. Narim stood at the edge, stunned, appalled, disbelieving. “They'll never be able to speak with us again,” he said. “They'll grow wilder, farther from us.”

Aidan spoke softly from atop his boulder perch. “They'll never again be slaves to anyone, humans or Elhim. Without the lake water to tempt them, they won't return here. The water was the difference, you know, the reason you were able to bind them in the first place. It wasn't just the jenica you put in it to keep them still. Whatever element of the water enabled them to understand our speech also enabled the binding of the bloodstones. That's why the Riders could never bind a dragon to a new stone.”

Narim's grief was bitter. “Only the one in five hundred years, those like you, will ever hear their voices.”

“You needn't fear. I'll pay the price for this as well.”

I wasn't sure exactly what he was talking about; we would all pay for this night's work. The world would pay.

“What about the springs?” said Davyn. “Isn't there still a risk?”

“Keep watching,” said Aidan.

After a while, the lone dragon spread its wings and glided from the clifftop, spiraling down into the fog-filled valley. A blast of white-hot fire blossomed from the deeps. When the fire receded, the dragon soared upward, returning to its distant perch. The bottom of the valley had been melted into a smooth shelf of rock, the springs irredeemably buried.

Narim sank to his knees and buried his head in his hands. How does one face the ruin of dreams carried for half a thousand years? Despite all, my heart wept for him.

Chapter 35

The prince convened a hasty trial for Narim. He took evidence from Davyn and from the Elhim who were a part of Narim's plot. I could not remain silent, which meant, unfortunately, that I could no longer stay out of sight. So I stepped out of my niche, brushed past MacAllister without acknowledging him, and told the prince I wished to speak.

Prince Donal listened carefully to my tale of Narim's tender care for me. I told him how all the Elhim, including the conspirators, had risked the safety of their sanctuary to take me in. I gave no other evidence. Whatever I knew of Narim's crimes—and my own—I left to others to tell.

The prince already knew MacAllister's mind, and only asked if he wished to add anything. MacAllister declined. Weak and foolish, as always. Even if he took no satisfaction in vengeance, how could he not see the rightness of punishment? We must pay for our deeds. Surely the prince would understand that.

I wandered over to the edge of the abyss and peered down on the scorched rocks and dried mud that were all that remained of the lake of fire, waiting to hear the verdict—to hear if my name would be listed among the condemned. After a sober deliberation, the prince announced that Narim would not hang, but that he and his Elhim conspirators would be exiled from Elyria for as long as they might live. Gods, Aidan and his cousin were two of a kind. Naive. Stupid. Who would ever be able to tell if an Elhim wandering the roads of Elyria was Narim or some other?

But the prince called forward one of his aides, his scribe who was charged with marking the wrists of those sworn to the prince's service. While three soldiers held Narim still, the man used his needles and ink to mark, not a wrist, but Narim's forehead with an X, and beside it the prince's own mark. “Wear this mark of infamy forever, Elhim, and be grateful to my cousin and Mistress Lara that you yet breathe. Never was sin healed by betrayal, and never was good built upon the abused honor of a warrior. Begone from my father's kingdom, and never tread its paths again.” The other conspirators were marked in the same fashion.

Narim and the exiles left that afternoon. Ten Elyrian soldiers accompanied the Elhim, both to protect them from assault along their way to the Elyrian border and to make sure they crossed it. My oldest friend did not speak to me before he left and did not acknowledge the hand I offered. My name had not been mentioned in the prince's judgment.

 

Though anxious to take his place at his father's side, Prince Donal planned to remain at Cir Nakai overnight to see to his men. Many were wounded; all of them needed sleep after five days of hard riding and the ferocious action at Cor Neuill. Many had lost their gear in the fight. The prince gratefully accepted Davyn's offer to retrieve the food, blankets, and other supplies worth salvaging that he had found in the ruined Elhim home caverns.

I needed gear, too. The desire to escape consumed me. Aidan knew everything now: I had known Narim planned to reenslave the dragons, and I had known Aidan would have to die. I could no longer pretend that my crimes were only those of a bitter child. Well and good. The temptation to keep up the deception would have been so great as to drive me mad. But I could not tolerate his looking at me, now he understood that I was as ugly inside as out.

As Davyn and a few of the soldiers set out on the shore path, I heard Aidan. “Did you see where Lara's gone?”

“The woman keeps disappearing,” said the prince. “I want to speak with her, too. Recruit her, if she's willing. With what I've seen and heard ... we could use her skills for what's to come.”

As they talked, I slipped around behind the two Senai and joined Davyn on the shoreline path. I asked if he could spare a few days' rations and a blanket or two. “I need to be away from here. Today if possible.”

“Whatever we have is yours,” he said. “You've no need to ask.”

As we hurried down the shore, a voice called after me. “We need to talk, Lara.”

I called back over my shoulder. “We have nothing to say.” Then I fixed my eyes on Davyn's back and put one foot in front of the other.

 

Davyn and I returned from the burned-out caverns just after dusk. The retrieval work had taken much longer than we'd thought, and all my plans for leaving this damnable valley before nightfall were confounded. We rejoined the prince and his men, who were roasting rabbits and birds over small cookfires, the soldiers casting nervous glances westward. No dragons were in sight. As he devoured his share of the meal, the laughing prince reported that, after an afternoon of listening to him babble like a five-year-old, Aidan had fallen asleep atop the boulder. The Elyrians retired to the caves early, anticipating an early start the next morning.

After my week in Garn MacEachern's dungeon in Cor Neuill, I couldn't bear to be anywhere but under the stars. So I settled beside a rock at the edge of the abyss, well out of the circle of firelight, wishing I dared walk away in the dark. My pack was beside me, loaded with food and water, ready to leave at first light. I would just have to stay out of sight until then.

Sometime near midnight, Aidan climbed down from his perch. He yawned and rubbed the dark stubble on his head as if to rid himself of a year's cobwebs. Davyn offered him tea and the food that had been set aside for him. As had happened earlier, the Senai's answer was indecipherable. Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, he tried again. “Thank you,” he said on his the third attempt. “I'm as hollow as Cir Nakai.”

“Will I see you in the morning?” asked Davyn. “The prince leaves at dawn.”

“I'll be awake. If not, throw a rock at me.”

“Will you accept his protection and come with us? The world will be a dangerous place for the one who has undone the power of the Ridemark.”

Aidan drank his tea and shook his head. “Not for a while. I've things to do first.”

“We own a part of each other's lives, Aidan MacAllister,” said the Elhim. “And I've had enough grieving.”

“We'll see what comes about. What of you? Are you going to watch over my young cousin the way you've watched over me?”

“He told you he'd asked me to stay with him?”

“It could be a very good thing for the Elhim—and for Donal—and for you. There's so much healing to be done, and plenty more wounds to be suffered before we can begin, I'm afraid.”

“I'll consider it.” The Elhim glanced my way. “We must all consider what will heal our hearts. But for now I'm off to examine the underside of my blankets. Good night, Aidan.”

“Good night, my friend.” The Senai was left alone, idly poking at the fire and drinking the tea Davyn had given him. He didn't seem to have noticed me in the dark. Good.

I forced myself to look at the sealed basin of the springs, the stars, the sand and shingle, anything lest he feel my eyes on him.

My strategy didn't work. “We need to talk.” He had moved as quickly and quietly as a fox and now stood over me, his face unreadable in the dark.

“You keep saying that, but mostly when you're drugged or mad or half-asleep. I don't think there's much to say.” Gods, why would he not leave me alone?

He sat down cross-legged in front of me, unsmiling, his brow creased. “Roelan wants me to go with them.”

“With the dragons? Go where?” I could not pretend indifference.

“Wherever they go. Deeper into the Carag Huim. Beyond the mountains to the lands where they once lived.”

“You'll fly. ...” The words crept out unbidden.

“No. I suppose I'll just slog after them on foot. I'll never fly.”

“But you sent him to rescue the prince.” My words sounded childish, leaving me wanting to bite my tongue. I hated the way he made me feel—this unsettling confusion, as if I would fall off the edge of the world, if I took one more step.

“Donal didn't ride. Roelan carried him in his hand. But even if Roelan was willing, I couldn't do it, any more than I could put a harness on Davyn.” Holy gods, he was apologizing to me! What was wrong with him?

I struggled to keep to mundane matters. “How will you live? What will you do?”

“I don't know. They won't let me starve. But Roelan is the only one who can communicate with me right now. The others are wild, lost. They need me to help them remember what they were. To help them shape words again until they can do it on their own.”