The Fifth Magic (Book 1) (12 page)

The gates to the great hall stood open, and people lined either side, as if waiting to greet them. It was a strange feeling. People Sinjin knew and cared for were among those gathered, but they were also loyal to Trinda now, or at the very least living under her rule. Sinjin no longer had a place within Dragonhold. His belongings had been delivered to him by Trinda and Pelivor what felt like ages ago. Now she had pulled him back in, and he wasn't certain how his former home and people would welcome him.

He realized his goal of keeping things civil was going to be exceedingly difficult when they flew into the hall's relative darkness and Gerhonda released Kendra several hand widths above the stone. Kendra made a loud "woof" when she struck the stone and lay still for a few moments--long enough for the remaining Drakon to land within the hall. Even with their numbers, the hall swallowed them easily and made them look tiny. Gerhonda whined and nudged Kendra with her snout.

Sitting atop her grossly oversized throne, Sinjin thought Trinda looked ridiculous, and yet she exuded undeniable power. Opening her mouth to speak, Trinda silenced the hall--even the dragons--with a gesture. Before she could utter a word, though, Kendra pulled herself from the cold stone. Sinjin and the others remained in their saddles. His grip on the staff tightened, and his fingers caressed Koe.

Kendra turned to Gerhonda, who did her best to look sheepish. "What in all of Godsland is wrong with you? Have you lost the use of your senses? How dare you carry me like nothing more than a plump tuna. What in the name of everything good and right in the world were you thinking? You dropped me in midair!"

The dragon just whined in response and nudged Kendra with her forehead. Sinjin's wife did not appear ready to release her anger.

"It's not her fault," Sinjin said, despite knowing it might make Kendra angrier. "Gerhonda was summoned like the rest of the dragons."

"I summoned the dragons. Yes," Trinda said to Sinjin. "But it is to you I wish to speak."

"And the rest of us?" Kendra asked, her face flushed, her posture aggressive.

"It is difficult to summon just one dragon," Trinda said, holding out her palms in feigned innocence.

Kendra fumed.

"I require your assistance."

It was clear she spoke to Sinjin, which infuriated Kendra even further.

"There are easier ways of contacting me," Sinjin said. "And I'm fairly certain you told me I was no longer welcome here."

Trinda took a long moment before responding. "I had hoped your love of your people would outweigh your hatred of me. The people of Dragonhold are in grave danger."

Sinjin wanted to say he didn't hate Trinda, but his wife came uncorked.

"People wouldn't hate you if you didn't just up and take over people's holds and throw them out and then summon their dragons without so much as a 'please'!"

Sinjin drew a breath to speak, and Kendra stared at him with eyes afire.

"Silence!" Trinda barked, slamming her fist down with emphasis, sending out icy air laced with cold blue fire. At this command, guards moved to close the mighty wooden gates. Even more guards emerged from all around, most carrying heavy crossbows. "Dismount and surrender your arms, and no one will be harmed." Kendra crossed her arms over her chest, daring anyone to disarm her. Trinda, though, wasn't watching Kendra; she was looking at Sinjin. "Surrender the staff and the cat, and they'll be returned to you when the time is right."

Sinjin doubted he and Trinda would agree on when the time was right so he resisted. Kendra gave him a firm nod. He looked for familiar faces among the guards, but Trinda knew better. Most of the men facing the Drakon had the look of the Greatland about them. None would have reason to be loyal to Sinjin. It would be a blood bath. Maybe he and the Drakon could defeat Trinda's forces, but at what cost? Perhaps they could fly in the darkness above them. The massive pillars disappeared in the heights, but Sinjin had no idea how deep that darkness was or if there were anything awaiting them there.

In the end, his temper cooled, and he began unstrapping his harness. The Drakon took that as their order to do the same.

"No!" Kendra shouted. "Don't you dare surrender!"

Sinjin stepped down from Valterius, knowing there was likely to be blood if ever he and his wife got the chance to discuss this day. Despite his own misgivings, Sinjin laid the staff and Koe at the feet of a guard who kept him at blade's end. The crossbowman next to him kept his bolt trained on Sinjin's chest. It was quite the welcome home.

The guard bent and retrieved the items with leather-gloved hands. When he handed them up to Trinda, blue light leaped between her outstretched hands and the staff. Pulsing light continued, wrapping around her grip. Koe gleamed in her other hand. The child queen drew a deep breath, and gusting winds filled the hold.

With a sick feeling in his stomach, Sinjin wondered what he'd done.

Chapter 11

If it makes your heart sing, do it.

--Barabas the druid

* * *

Standing before the huge stone cylinder, Sinjin didn't know what to think. The gargantuan wheel rotated at dizzying speed, lending credence to Trinda's claims, but he could not see what purpose this wheel might serve. Part of him wanted to scold Trinda for experimenting with things she didn't understand, but he and his were far from innocent, and the hypocrisy stayed his tongue.

"So you're saying you started this machine without having any idea what it does, and now you're worried it'll come apart and destroy Dragonhold?" Kendra asked.

"And a large piece of the Godfist. Yes," Trinda said, her eyes unfriendly, her patience with Kendra obvious.

Sinjin tried to convince Kendra to be silent using nothing more than a look, but that just made her angrier. It was another situation Sinjin found impossible to solve. Though he loved his wife's passion, he didn't want to see it get her killed.

Kendra snorted. "It's big, all right, and it's impressive, but I doubt much more than this immediate area would be affected in the event of a failure."

"You've not read what I've read," Trinda said. "You don't have access to the truth."

Before Kendra could speak another word, Sinjin jumped into the conversation. "I must ask," he said. "What, exactly, is it you think I can do to help?"

"It's . . . complicated. But you have already helped me," Trinda said, smiling in a way that gave no indication as to the thoughts in her head. "Soon I will return your staff and cat to you and I will ask you to help me stop the wheel."

"Then let's do what must be done," Kendra said, and Sinjin had to bite his tongue. "Give my husband back his belongings, and I'm certain he'll do what he can to help--just as I'm certain he'd have done if you simply
asked
him. He did, after all, facilitate the delivery of the stone thrones you so desired."

"Would you please let me do the talking?" Sinjin finally said to Kendra. It was not that he disagreed with her sentiments, but now was not the time to antagonize Trinda. The girl was unpredictable enough as it was, and Kendra's goading wasn't helping anyone. "My wife and I were engaged in important matters when we were . . . summoned," Sinjin said. "Please ask what you will of me and let us be on our way."

"Soon," Trinda said, and she turned and walked away. Her personal guards surrounded her as she walked, and the remaining guards closed ranks behind them, making it clear they were not to follow. A moment later, the guards moved to form an opening once again.

As was her way, even the child queen's gifts were unexpected. When Miss Mariss, his Uncle Chase, and Martik made their way past the guards, Sinjin couldn't help but smile and run to meet them. The three carried platters laden with food, and even Kendra smiled. The smell of sausage breads was unmistakable.

"It's good to see you, my boy," Chase said. "Have you word of my father and Benjin and your grandfather?"

"We saw Benjin, Fasha, Wendel, and Jensen very briefly, just before we were summoned here."

Chase's eyes went wide at the word
summoned.
"I knew she sang, but we had no idea what it was she was singing for."

"Apparently," Sinjin said, "she can sing and summon the regal dragons. She said she needed my help stopping
that.
" He pointed at the stone wheel.

"It's good you came," Martik said. "I fear Trinda's concerns are not wholly unfounded. I've seen an ancient diagram she found, and it looks to me like that giant wheel is not the primary mechanism."

"What is it, then?" Kendra asked.

"A trigger," Martik said. "She wouldn't let me see the other diagrams, so I can't be certain. Even if I'm right, I have no idea what it's supposed to initiate. It could be entirely benign, just like the water system or the central forge, but . . ."

"Eat," Miss Mariss said, and no one argued. The Drakon waited in orderly fashion for the sausage breads and wine to be distributed. Each thanked Miss Mariss, and she appeared touched by their formality. Sinjin knew Miss Mariss's sausage breads were legendary even among the Arghast, and he wouldn't be surprised if they didn't attempt to take her with them when they left Dragonhold. Knowing they might never leave Dragonhold threatened to spoil his appetite. Deep down, he didn't think Trinda intended them harm.

"There are two things worrying me," Martik said. "First, the wheel moves ever faster, driven partly by the water and partly by the vacuum created by the underground river as it moves through a sealed chamber. However, there must be something else to account for the forces being applied here, and I don't know what it is.

"And though she often speaks in riddles, I don't doubt her words on one thing. If left alone, the wheel will continue to spin faster and faster, and some part of the mechanism will eventually fail."

"And you think this wheel is used to start some larger chain reaction?" Kendra asked.

"From what Martik has described to me," Chase said, "this is not just some part of the hold waiting to be turned back on. It struck me as part of a defensive or even offensive feature of the keep. I doubt very much the application is civil; it has a far more military look about it."

"All of that is but speculation," Martik added, and Chase nodded sadly. "There's no way to know without those diagrams or access to the mechanisms."

Nearby guards monitored their conversation, and no one was foolish enough to ask if there was a way to get those diagrams, but Sinjin knew it was what they were all thinking. For a few moments, they ate in silence, and Sinjin actually tasted his food. It was just as glorious as he remembered, reminding him just how archaic life on the Firstland really was. When they returned, he silently vowed to talk with Kendra about ways to draw talented and experienced people to the Firstland.

"You cannot stop the wheel?" Arakhan asked.

"Not now," Martik said. "Early on, when it was moving slowly, we could probably have stopped it safely by jamming it with wooden timbers, but now there is simply too much energy. Anything we do will transfer that energy to the stone around the mechanism, and something would have to give. If we destabilize the mechanism, it may be worse than allowing the trigger to function normally and initiate whatever it's supposed to do. And if we stop the water, then it will no longer float freely. I believe it would bite into the stone and possibly bind up. I wouldn't want to be around if that happened. There must be a way to bring it to a gradual stop, but I haven't figured it out yet. If only we had more control over how much water flows."

"There's something I don't understand," Sinjin said. "If this thing is a trigger, then how is it initiated?"

Martik and Chase both shrugged.

"Wish I knew," Martik said.

* * *

Standing side by side at the prow, as they had done so many times before, Benjin and Fasha sailed the winds in silence. Neither wanted to voice the fears churning in their guts; there was no need. The Drakon had gone from the Firstland and hadn't returned. The crew of the
Dragon's Wing
had done the only thing they could, which was to offload the supplies and goods they carried. An empty ship was far easier to fly away from Windhold.

Kendra's idea for an airship dock had merit, but Benjin would stick with water landings and more traditional methods to transport goods inland. The dragons were supposed to be there to help guide them away from the dry dock and to keep the prevailing winds from smashing them against the hold itself. The memory of their departure from Windhold was something none would soon forget. The fact that the
Dragon's Wing
was in one piece was the result of good fortune as much as anything else, which wasn't the most comforting thought.

Few of his thoughts were pleasant. Not long ago, he'd believed they were making a new start. He'd hoped for a peaceful existence. He'd been wrong.

The path the Drakon followed had been unerring, and the
Dragon's Wing
now soared along the same path. No one knew what they would find, if anything. Their only information came from the general direction the Drakon flew: toward the Godfist.

This did not bode well, and Benjin was reminded of the events leading up to Trinda's taking Dragonhold. He did not like the conclusions he came to, and he was certain the rest on board felt the same way. Pelivor and Gwen kept the ship in the air with perhaps unhealthy dedication and commitment. Benjin didn't want them or any other crew member to burn out. Jessub Tillerman was now the backbone of his crew. The young man knew how to work hard and did his level best to keep up with Pelivor and Gwen.

"We must fish," Fasha said without preamble. "Set us down."

Gradually Gwen reduced the thrust, and the ship eased lower. His flightmaster and thrustmaster had more than earned their titles; they had gone beyond proficiency and now practiced flight like an art form. It required the two to work together, almost like a dance. Pelivor was leading, but without Gwen, the dance was incomplete. Either could act on their own to both fly and propel the ship, but when they worked together, the
Dragon's Wing
was the fastest and most nimble ship on all the seas and skies.

Benjin was reminded a moment later, though, they were not the only ship sailing the wind. Just moments before the
Dragon's Wing
would enter the seas, Jessub cried out from the crow's nest, "The
Serpent
to port!"

Though he'd seen Kenward's airship only once, the thing had managed to offend just about every one of Benjin's senses. Everything about it just felt wrong, yet he'd seen the thing fly. Now he had inescapable evidence the ship was still flying. It wasn't that he wished any ill on Kenward or his crew, but the
Serpent
had been designed to never touch water. The roughly carved masthead modeled after his own ship did not sit well with Benjin.

Though he flew the
Dragon's Wing
without reservation or fear, the thought of getting on the
Serpent
made him physically ill. He'd known those on Kenward's crew were less than sane from his days aboard the
Slippery Eel.
Many proved themselves fearless by boarding the
Serpent.
At least a few had shown good sense. They had been replaced.

Distant shouts drifted over the winds, fragmented and distorted.

"Bring us back up and make for the
Serpent
!" Fasha commanded.

Once again demonstrating their skill, Gwen and Pelivor aborted the water landing. The maneuver required a great deal of thrust, which sent Wendel to his knees, but he soon regained his feet.

"Sorry," Gwen said once they were gaining altitude. Wendel waved off the apology. No one could expect the two to have mastered things no one else had ever done.

The closer the
Serpent
got, the more detail was visible, and Benjin had to admit the roughly carved masthead was a suitable tribute from a distance. There was no way the flakewood airship could ever match the polished sheen of the greatoak.

Another problem arose as the two ships approached one another: speed. Though Kenward did his best to keep it a secret, the
Serpent
was propelled by more than just wind and sail. Still, the
Serpent
was far slower. The
Dragon's Wing,
which was heavier, needed to move faster than the
Serpent
to stay in the air.

"Bring us down," Fasha ordered after they had flown three circles around the
Serpent
without being able to communicate clearly. Gwen and Pelivor swiftly complied and brought them in for the softest landing one could expect when dropping into rough seas.

The ship's motion was like an old friend yet was foreign after so much time. The adjustment always took some time. Kenward proved his ship did have some advantages over the
Wing;
he could effectively hover as long as the winds cooperated. Though the seas were choppy, the winds were consistent and allowed Kenward to bring the
Serpent
in close.

"Not too close," Fasha shouted and frowned when Benjin chuckled. She shook her head, knowing the joke. Kenward had been making her think he would sink her for most of their lives. He hadn't actually done it yet.

He had managed to sink one ship, and another lay in the high reaches on the Firstland, which wasn't exactly comforting. Benjin admitted Catrin had a lot to do with the loss of the
Slippery Eel.
Thoughts of Catrin were painful, and he pushed them away.

"Hey, Sis!" Kenward shouted. Benjin couldn't help but smile.

"Have you seen the Drakon?" Fasha shouted back, never one to waste words.

"We saw them," Kenward said. "They're headed to Dragonhold."

"Why?" Benjin shouted before Fasha could take a breath.

"Trinda sang!" Brother Vaughn shouted from the place where he had quite thoroughly tied himself to the
Serpent.
"I think she must have summoned the regal dragons in the same way she once summoned the ferals."