The Grand Crusade (4 page)

The puppet’s fingers curled up and inward, sinking into the ball. Kerrigan caught a hint of magick, then the hand opened again. “There, I think that should work. As a device, it allows one to concentrate. The figure you created is something you remember?”

“Based on a statue I saw at Fortress Draconis, yes.” Kerrigan shifted his shoulders. “What am I supposed to do with the thing, just make models?”

“No, no, quite a bit more.” The puppet tossed the sphere to him again. “When you penetrated Bok’s spell, you made a connection with the ball. The magick in the ball drew strength from you to allow itself to function. You found that taxing, yes?”

Kerrigan nodded. “All spells require energy to make them work. You have to be careful in case you exhaust yourself and collapse.”

“Because your body produces the energy you use to cast spells?”

“Exactly.” Kerrigan answered quickly, but realized that he’d given the rote Vilwanese answer. Though he had learned to parrot such things to his tutors, he had secretly questioned the source of magick. The difficulty was that on Vilwan no one believed magick functioned any other way.

The puppet folded his arms over its chest. “You realize there is a flaw in your description, don’t you?”

The young man’s brows furrowed. “You think it is obvious. Not to me.”

“Permit me to show you. If you were to go out and run up and down the mountain here, you would expend a lot of energy, wouldn’t you? You’d feel exhausted.”

“Of course.”

“And what else would happen?”

Kerrigan thought for a second, then patted his stomach with his left hand. “I’d lose some of this.”

“Exactly, and yet, you, the most powerful magician humanity has known in ages, waged a near-constant thaumaturgical battle at Navval and lost not an ounce. How is that?”

Kerrigan started to answer, then frowned. “The energy doesn’t come from

me?“

The puppet shifted its hands to the small of its back. “It is possible for you to produce energy to work spells, though it should not be used directly to cast them. This is the grand error taught on Vilwan, and you were well instructed on your limitations there because of this presentation. What your masters did not tell you is that while they have studied how much energy a body produces, the simple fact is that even human magickers can use more energy than that.”

The young man frowned. Rymramoch had informed him that in the days after the time of Kirun, the creator of the DragonCrown, the teaching on Vilwan had changed. Kirun had been from Vilwan and, in order that the nations of the world would not destroy the Vilwanese sorcerers, they chose to hobble their disciples. Because of the threat posed by Chytrine, Kerrigan had been taught forbidden knowledge and spells, progressing well past anyone else on the island. But evenhiseducation was flawed.

“If what you are saying is true, there is another source of energy.”

“No, it is the source of magick.” The puppet gestured and the silver sphere flowed like water through Kerrigan’s fingers, then pooled on the floor. “Magick is most easily seen as a river, though it is far more vast and varied. It has currents and eddies, cool flows and hot, fresh, brackish, and stagnant aspects to it. It pervades reality—all realities—in some places being weak and in others very strong. Here it is moderately strong, and just being here one soaks it up, much as cloth will drink in humidity. It is this ethereal moisture that is the extra energy humans wield.”

“Then why do we become tired, if it is all around?”

“Why does the man who lives near a river feel thirst?” The puppet laughed easily. “The energy you expend is the energy you use to divert magick into your spells. There are times, Kerrigan, when you have drawn magick into you without thinking, and the energy came effortlessly. It is easier and more likely to happen with Elder magicks, but that you can do it at all marks your intuitive talent for magick.”

Kerrigan shook his head. “You mean there is no limit to the spells I can cast because I can draw on this river of magick?”

“I did not say that, and that belief is one that has doomed many a foolish sorcerer.” Rymramoch shook his head. “You have seen rivers. What happens to the stones in them?”

“They are worn smooth.”

“They are wornaway‘’With a flick of a finger the puppet commanded the pooled silver to re-form the sphere. ”A dragon may be granite to magick, but you would be sandstone. Plunge yourself in without caution and you shall melt away to mud. Mind you, what youwillbe able to do will be beyond the ken of humanity, and perhaps even the elves and urZrethi. It would even amaze the Oromise, but not me, not dragons.“

“Oromise?” Kerrigan shook his head. “What is an Oromise?”

“Not a what, but who.” The puppet pressed gloved fingers one to the other, then flatted palms together. “Back in forever ago there was magick, and in that flow resided creatures. Dragons were one such, though in a form we would hardly recognize. When we reached awareness, however, we sought a place to stop within the flow of magick. We tried to create havens, but met with little success for we are creatures of air and fire, and two elements do not a universe make.

“The Oromise are creatures of earth and water. They, too, wished to create a haven, and where their magicks and ours overlapped, we succeeded. Dragons and the Oromise formed an alliance and shaped this universe and this world. Elves came later, for their element is wood and vital for holding the others together. Dragons and the Oromise welcomed them through benign neglect and did not dispute their making our world fertile.”

Kerrigan glanced at the ball. “Can you make it look like an Oromise?”

“Not I, for I was many years yet unhatched when the Oromise last felt the sun on their faces—if, indeed, they had faces.” The puppet shrugged. “What I tell you now is legend. I only have it fourth or fifth wing.”

“How old are you?”

“Veryold. I remember the war to wrest Vareshagul from the urZrethi. I fought in it—sinking most of the island and leaving Vael as the only remnant— and I have resided here since. Even so, the Oromise are but legend to me. They are the nightmares that haunt our dreams, and that a dragon can be haunted should signify much.”

Kerrigan shivered. “But I have never heard of them.”

“That is because there was a war of Dragons and Oromise for dominion over the world. The Oromise were builders and tinkerers. They created machines and creatures. Thekryalniriyou saw in Bokagul and Muroso, these are very like the things they set upon the elves to keep them occupied as we fought. Many other creatures are theirs as well, with a few quite mundane and even beloved, like cats. They created much before the war, and adapted much more for war.”

“But what about the gods making the world?”

Rymramoch shook his head. “Humanity, rising in times well past that of the Oromise, needed to explain things. Gods are convenient when no other explanation presents itself.”

“But Resolute has said that our gods are but dim shadows of the elder gods he knows about.”

“Resolute’s knowledge of things is not without error, and even the elves do not remember the Oromise precisely. They know there was something there, and their facility for the invention of gods is no less potent than that of men.”

“So the gods don’t exist?”

The puppet laughed. “Oh, that is a topic of heated debate among dragons. Does the act of believing and worshipping create an entity that becomes a god? Are there yet other interlopers who have come to our world and assumed that role? We do not know and know of no way to find out. The simple fact is, however, that if therearegods, they played no part in the Oromise war. Dragons drove the Oromise from the face of the earth and deep into its heart. They have been entombed there forever through dracomagicks, but they anticipated us.

“One of their last acts was to create the urZrethi. The urZrethi, led by powerful chieftains, fashioned their own empires and dug deep into the earth. They raised mountains as they went, seeking to free their masters. Dragons went to war with them as well, the last great battle being the one for Vareshagul.”

The puppet plucked an errant thread from the left sleeve of its robe. “Until that time the urZrethi were a patriarchy, with strong males having harems. In order to save their race, the urZrethi shifted the entire social structure. The reason strong males like Bok are exiles is for fear they will again invite the wrath of the dragons upon the urZrethi.”

Kerrigan shook his head. “But if Bok is that kind of threat, why is he here? Why is he your friend?”

“Because Bok is not stupid, nor a servant of the Oromise.” The puppet’s voice took on an edge. “Centuries ago, when I first met him, I knew he would be crucial to setting things to rights again. With your help, I am hopeful we can truly accomplish it this time.”

Part of her wondered if, had she been there, Misha would yet live, but she dismissed that thought as unworthy. Adrogans, though he approached things differently from her, had never been a man to spend troops needlessly or carelessly. To wonder if she could have saved Mikhail devalued his skills and his sacrifice. He was an able warrior and leader, and to have liberated Varalorsk was no mean feat. It had never fallen before and somehow, with his spirit there to guard it, Alyx thought it never would again.

Rubbing her thumb over the broken red wax seal, Alexia seated herself beside the fire and closed her eyes. It took her a moment to become comfortable, then she projected herself away to the Communion of Dragons. When she had done this before, she always appeared on a mountaintop and had to make her way through a cavern and down to a subterranean lake. This time, however, she appeared on the quay, beside the dark boat that would bear her to the island where the Communion members gathered.

Though she had projected herself much closer to her goal, she smiled as golden letters appeared in the dark water.The secrets within remain secrets without, for the good of all the world. That warning appeared on the arch over the mouth of the cave, and was repeated here so she could not forget. Those things learned in the Communion could not be shared back in the physical world, though she would remember them and be able to act upon them.

The boat onto which she stepped had been styled after a dragon, with a proud head above the bow. At the helm stood a mechanical dragonman. She nodded in his direction. “Maroth, take me forth.”

The boat slowly began to drift away onto the black lake. That the water appeared to be a starless sky she took as a fitting omen to mark her cousin’s death. But she refused to see it as an ill omen, even though Chytrine’s forces had moved south with the power of a world-devouring storm. The Northern Empress would gobble up the stars themselves if she had the chance, of that Alyx was sure. With deliberations just beginning in Narriz, Alyx was uncertain if the world could assemble the forces needed to stop Chytrine.

Out of the darkness loomed an island. When last she had been at the Communion, it had reminded her of a citadel akin to Fortress Draconis, but gradually its form had changed. It had become more primitive, with tall trees dominating broken towers, and menhirs mocking tumbled stone fortresses. Snow swirled over the grounds, teased by winds she did not feel or hear. Alyx wondered if the island had taken this shape because another member’s will had imposed itself, or if other constructs had been stripped away to reveal something more primal.

The boat slipped up to a small dock and she mounted a set of crude stone stairs. She climbed to the gap in a low wall, then walked down into a snow-laden bowl. A hundred yards on she came to a circle of standing stones with two more individuals at its heart. One, the Black Dragon, she had seen there before. The other she recognized instantly, despite his being only rendered in shadow.

She smiled broadly. “Father Ironwing!” Alyx threw her arms around the Gyrkyme and hoped the Communion would allow her to feel him in her embrace. It did, and allowed her to feel his returned hug.

The Gyrkyme keened a laugh. “It is very good to see you here, my daughter. You are well after your many adventures?”

“Yes, and Peri is, too. We are in Narriz, hoping the crowns will remain united to fight Chytrine.” She released him, then turned and bowed to the Black Dragon. “And you, sir, I hope you are well.”

The man who wore a dragon’s head bowed it in return. “Better now than I had been. I was speaking with Preyknosery here about things he has learned that might have a bearing on your future. While you have been fighting, he and other Gyrkyme have been out gathering information.”

Alyx smiled at her adoptive father. “What have you learned?” The elder Gyrkyme smiled easily. “Of the world, much. Do you recall, daughter, how I taught you to read the seasons? Specifically, do you recall how I taught you to know if a drought would come and the summer would blaze?”

She nodded. “The animals that leave the mountain heights for the winter are slow to return. They remain near water. Birds migrate earlier, other creatures change their range. You’re seeing this?”

“This far north the winter has not loosened its grasp, but by the new year, it

will.“

“That’s month’s end.”

“It is, indeed. Further south animals are preparing for a hot summer of little

water.“

Alyx nodded slowly and the Black Dragon smiled. “You were right, Preyknosery, she catches the significance. As Chytrine’s troops were at an advantage in the winter, having been born in a boreal realm, so they will be discomfited by a hot summer. That will give you an edge.”

“I am thankful for it. Now we will have to strike; all that remains is choosing where and deciding with what. That latter point will be the more difficult, since we do not know what the crowns will decide.”

Preyknosery scratched at his throat with a talon. “Our eyes have seen much of men as well. While the winter and snows make traveling difficult, troops are on the move. Alcida is moving the most, but other places are as well.”

“Companies? Battalions? Regiments?”

“All of them, but not all are directed toward Chytrine’s troops.” The Gyrkyme frowned. “Many borders and passes are being reinforced, especially in the east. Alosa, Vegan, Reimancia, and Teysrol see themselves as bastions to stop the spread eastward. They are also posting more troops on their own eastern frontiers to discourage adventurism.” Alyx sighed. “And in the west?”