SummerDanse (15 page)

We walked for what seemed like a day, though it was probably less than an hour. We went down several flights of stairs, then along what must be underground passages. Every so often, they would spin me round, as if they feared I might try to memorize the turnings.

Little chance of that, though. For my mind was busy trying to figure out how to thwart Zhantar’s plan. Could I manage not to speak the vows? Unlikely. If forced to speak them against my will, would they be binding? That might be my only hope, for surely the dragons couldn’t arrive in time. But at least they were coming. I would have to cling to that thought.

We stopped walking. No one made a sound. The dragonmasters let go of my arms. We simply stood there. Forever.

My heart pounded in my ears, and it was the only thing I could hear. In the dead silence it seemed to reverberate. Had they just left me here? And where exactly was I? Was this a test, some part of the ceremony? I tried, with little success, to quell my fear.

BOOM!

I almost leapt out of my boots.

Boom! Boom!

It sounded like a heavy object crashing against a solid wood door. Then a creaking noise followed by a whoosh of warm air confirmed my guess.

A loud bass voice spoke. “Come forth, supplicant.” The words echoed in the chamber before me and the passage behind. I waited for someone to guide me. “I say again, come forth!”

The voice itself, tinged a little with impatience, had the power to compel me, and I took a small, tentative step forward. Then another. What was the point of this? They knew I couldn’t see, couldn’t know where I was going. A few more steps, then my senses told me I had come to a ledge of some kind. I stopped.

“Ah, yes,” said the voice in a satisfied tone. “Let all present take note.”

An odd sighing sound pulsed briefly, then died away into vacant silence again. I swallowed, wanting nothing more than to run away. My hands were bound in front of me; I could take off the hood, the blindfold, and the gag. My leg muscles twitched, waiting for my brain to give the order to flee.

As if its owner read my mind, the voice boomed out, “There is no turning back now.” And with a clang that almost stopped my heart, the doors behind me closed. “Come forward, and delay no longer.”

This time, I perceived that the voice seemed to come from a point below me. Perhaps the ledge I sensed was only a step. Well, if it weren’t and I pitched down a precipice to my death, would that be such a bad thing? I took a shuddering breath, gathered my courage, put out a foot, and took a step into nothingness.

Or it seemed that way for a quarter of a heartbeat. Then there was the ground again.

“Yes,” the voice said in approval, and another sigh swept around the room. “Come to me.”

I summoned my magic and let it fill my senses to guide me down the uneven flight of stairs.

When I reached what I knew to be the bottom, I halted, breathing heavily. There was power in this place, and it beat down on me, making me dizzy and faint.

With no warning, strong hands grabbed my upper arms and lifted me off my feet completely. Startled, I cried out aloud, though the sound was muffled by the gag.

Moments later, they set me down on a chair. It was as cold as marble but quickly warmed. I felt sure it glowed.

“The Seat of the Dragons has accepted her!”

And the people in the room broke into song. I didn’t understand the language, but its tone was joyful and celebratory. It went on and on, though blindfolded and disoriented as I was, I couldn’t tell how long.

When it finally ended, footsteps approached me.

“She is received to be born into her new service,” the voice boomed. The person loosened the drawstring and removed the hood. I took a breath, but the air was filled with an unfamiliar musky odor that left me feeling even more lightheaded than before.

“Her submission to the DragonLord, in perpetuity, is accepted.” The cords binding my wrists were cut. “Her plea is answered and wisdom promised to her.” The gag was removed. “Her eyes shall be opened, and she shall see.” The blindfold was removed.

Somewhere far away, perhaps only in my imagination, someone screamed,
“Nooooooo!”

Arrgghh! No, not again! You have done enough, you have broken my heart and my spirit. Put me back in the pit, and leave me to die.

You are a traitor to all that is good, all that is decent, all that is pure. I beg only that you be consumed by your own fire, and if I am not already dead, I will then die in peace.

I am shamed to think that I was once one of you. Your actions now only prove that I was right in my choice, right to leave, right to deny everything you had to offer.

Go ahead, strike me again, coward. And again. As many times as you like, until my blood is on your hands.

Atop a low dais across from me, on a throne made of gold and encrusted with every kind of gem, sat Zhantar, glorious in his power. Whether it was an effect of the magic that filled the air or a trick of the light, he seemed to be twice his normal size. He looked down on me with a benevolent smile, as if he had just bestowed the moon and her silver light upon me. And perhaps, in his mind, he had.

He lifted his arms, palms upward, and the people began to sing again.

The place was cavernous, filled with tier upon tier of dragonmasters. Most were men, but now I saw that some were women.

Zhantar crossed one leg over the other, and resting his arms on the arms of the throne, leaned back. His eyes glittered in the light, which came from thousands of glowing crystals that floated overhead.

I couldn’t guess how many dragonmasters were here. It must be hundreds and hundreds! Far more than I ever guessed even existed. They were, of course, the most powerful magicians in the realm, and the air was almost alight with their power.

Their song swelled to a crescendo, then softened to little more than a whisper. When it finally ended, it took some time for the last of it to fade away completely. The silence that followed in the song’s wake settled on me like the weight of an ocean, making it hard to breathe.

Anazian walked up. I met his gaze and neither flinched nor looked away. He reached out, as if he were going to stroke my face, but at the last second, his hand changed direction and he grasped the wood collar. I braced myself for him to jerk me to my feet, but he didn’t. When he stepped back, he held a stick of black wood. I gasped and raised a hand to my neck. Yes, the wood collar was gone!

Almost by reflex, I opened my senses, ready to embrace my power. Only to be overcome with the blackest dread. Pain! Agony! A craving for freedom, just one second of true freedom before I died in this black hole!

The voices, the terror, the pleas pressed down on me and buried me under their horror. The dragons! I blocked them out before I lost my sanity, drowned in their pain.

Zhantar laughed, and Anazian strode over to him. Zhantar leaned forward and in a low, conspiratorial voice said, “Do you think she has figured it out yet?”

Anazian shook his head. “No, not yet. It will be amusing to see how long it takes for the truth to dawn.”

The DragonLord rose to his feet in a regal manner and descended from his dais. He stood before me, looking down with his clear, green eyes. In a voice that only I could hear, he said, “You will join us now.”

I clenched my teeth and spoke softly. “No, I will never join you. I will die first.”

Half of his mouth curved into a humorless smile. “That could be arranged, but it does not suit my purpose. No, you will submit, or ...” He turned away from me, and his cloak billowed out behind him as he walked the several steps back to the dais and resumed his seat on his throne.

He clapped his hands once and held them out to me. “Approach me, my child.” And his voice took on the loud, booming quality it had before, distorted so that it didn’t sound like him.

Anazian’s eyes sparkled as he watched me, as if daring me to disobey so he could do something about it. I slowly pushed myself out of the chair and walked to Zhantar.

With a broad gesture, he said, “Kneel.”

I paused just long enough to make it obvious that it was intentional, then did as instructed. Anazian came up behind me and put his hands on my head while Zhantar recited a long chant in what I guessed was the same language the songs had been in. My knees ached long before he finished. I needed the hand Anazian offered me to help me to my feet, much as I would’ve preferred to spurn it.

“And now, we go to the Chamber of Vows,” Zhantar’s voice boomed from above. He stood up and descended from his throne, took my left hand, and walked me around the dais, as if to show me to all those gathered there. I burned with anger and shame.

He then led me to a door in an archway under the tiers of seats. We passed through into a passageway lit with candles that burned red flame. The lurid light gave an eerie cast to the walls and to Zhantar’s face. I shuddered.

At the end of the short passage was a wooden door ornately carved with more dragons. In other circumstances, I would have stopped to examine it, admiring the craftsmanship. Zhantar pushed it open without a glance, and we went into the dark room beyond.

With the door closed behind us, all was pitch black. I opened my senses to try to learn about this place. There was the life vibration of at least one other person. Who it might be, I dare not guess.

The silence was broken by footsteps, then the sound of a knife being withdrawn from its sheath.

“You will now swear fealty to me,” Zhantar said.

I took a deep breath and let it out again. I would resist him to the last, come what may. “No. I have said I will not, and I mean I will not. There’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”

“Is there not?”

This was followed by a tiny, frightened squeak, uttered by the third person in the room. At a word from Zhantar, light filled the room. We were in a six-sided chamber with two doors other than the one behind me. And not five feet from me, Zhantar stood with his knife at Mama’s throat.

I staggered backwards against the door. Her ankles were still shackled and had a short length of chain between them, and her arms were bound behind her. She wore a plain dress made of rough, grey fabric. Her whole body shook, held in Zhantar’s grasp. Tears streamed down her face, and her terror-stricken eyes pleaded with me to do something.

But what could I do? To speak vows to Zhantar was unthinkable, but how much did it really matter if I joined the dragonmasters? Would it not be selfish to let my mother die for my own principles?

“Now,” Zhantar said in a perfectly calm voice. “You will take your vows. It really is that simple.”

I hesitated, and he pressed the knife into Mama’s skin enough to draw blood. She squeezed her eyes closed. My rasping breath filled the room. What should I do? Why did my mind have to freeze up now?

Zhantar was right. I had no choice. I closed my eyes to shut out the sight of Mama, and I nodded.

“Speak the words,” Zhantar said.

Hatred filled me as I looked into his eyes. Hatred of him, hatred of what I was about to do, hatred of myself. “I will take your vows.”

A smile of triumph bloomed on his face. He shoved Mama aside. She lost her balance and fell, her head smacking the floor with a dull thud. Then she disappeared in a flash of sparks.

I cried out, but Zhantar said, “It must be humiliating to be so easily manipulated.”

He grabbed my arms and pulled me to the center of the chamber. Two circles, about three feet in diameter, were inscribed onto the black floor with something that glittered silver in the light.

Zhantar pointed at one of them, and I stepped into it. When I did, the inside of the circle flashed into a labyrinthine design. I scarcely had time to notice that it was the Etosian knot, an exact match of the design Rennirt had carved into my face, before everything went black and I found myself floating amongst the stars.

My heart leapt. A sense of release came over me and let me truly relax for the first time since forever. Now, for awhile, I was free of the dark web that had entangled me.

A purple star shot across the sky. Curious, I followed it. Faster and faster I flew, and soon the stars, which had been stationary before, began to dance. Colors and patterns dazzled my eyes, and I soon lost that first purple streak in the blaze of light.

I joined the dance. Reaching out a hand, I felt no surprise that someone—or something—took hold of it and pulled me in. I soared across the sky, leaving a rainbow trail in my wake. Dipping and climbing and turning back on myself, I left my own design across the sky.

“You come to me again, my child.”

The deep, musical, booming voice brought me to a stand-still. The beating of my heart created ripples and waves in my rainbow.

“You are afraid. Tell me why.”

And then my soul was filled with joy. This wasn’t Zhantar; it was Etos! The soul of the ancient wisdom of Stychs.

“I am here, my lord, but how?”

His laugh boomed across the sky in flashes of gold. “What mean you, how?”

“Well, I am in Hedra, not on Stychs.”

“Ah, my child, you were in Hedra. Now you are nowhere in any world.”

I pondered this as we sailed across the sky. A place beyond any world. That seemed to be fitting, for I had never seen Etos, only felt the presence of his soul. Perhaps this was a place of pure spirit. In which case, what exactly was I at this moment?

“As ever, you worry too much. Let go. Ride the danse.”

And I did. I let loose of my cares, finding that it was an easy thing to do in this place. An ethereal music whispered in my ears, and exotic, voluptuous scents tickled my nose. I pulled myself into a ball and spun as fast as I could, laughing when I bumped into a trail of red shimmer that tasted of cinnamon and strawberries.

Eventually, my own reality encroached on my mind again. But now, the recent events were mere facts with no emotion or anxiety attached to them.

I spoke again. “What brought me here? And what will happen when I return?”

“Ah. How you got here is a curious matter indeed. There is that about you which, when it touches my remnants, brings your spirit to my realm.”

“The tree in the desert?”

“Yes. That is one. It is a leftover manifestation of a form I once took in that world.”

“But there wasn’t any tree this time.”

“I do not show myself in the same form in all worlds. Nor always the same form in the same world.”

“I still don’t understand.” My insides were beginning to knot up again. I wished I could stay here with Etos forever, where I could forget all my cares.

“That cannot be, for you are not ready to leave your own corporeal form. There is too much future left in your life.” Did I imagine it, or was there a note of wistfulness in his voice?

“But what were you in my world?”

“Do you remember what happened just before you left your body?”

“I stepped into a circle drawn on an obsidian floor.”

“Yes, yes. In your world, I was a volcano. Many long ages I stored up great power, then released it in a mighty blast of liquid fire. And you stepped into a circle, you say? That is a mystical shape, indeed. Never beginning, never ending, perpetual motion, perfect stillness. A circle holds great power.”

“So does everyone who steps into that circle come here? Everyone who makes their dragonmaster vows?”

More of that golden laughter. “No, no. I said before that there is something unique about you. Can you guess what it is?”

I thought. Once upon a time, I used to insist there was nothing special about me. And though I wished more now than ever that it were so, the truth was that I did possess a mighty power of my own. I’d needed help, but it was my maejic that brought the red dragons back from Sytchs to Hedra.

“No, dear child, it is not your power. Yours is a very, very great power, but it is not unique. Can you think of something else?”

Then I remembered the design within the circle that had flashed. The mark on my face!

“Yes. It is a heavy burden you bear, but it contains its own magic.”