The Silent Dragon: Children of The Dragon Nimbus #1 (27 page)

CHAPTER 39

V
ALERIA LISTENED to the discussion about her as if from a great distance. She seemed to view the entire room from somewhere around the high ceiling—such a waste of space, a loft up there could sleep three. Her brother’s words, and those of the girl she presumed was the princess, had an echoey quality to them that distorted the few that were loud enough to reach her.

Lillian’s arm about her physical body was the only thing that kept her from drifting away like a bit of dandelion fluff on a summer breeze. She couldn’t leave Lillian alone. Not ever. They belonged to each other. If she thought about it hard enough—which seemed easier now than when her ailing body weighed her down—she could almost remember when they were one soul, one personality, all contained within one egg inside Mama.

“Valeria, wake up, sweetie,” the princess said, shaking Valeria’s body. “We need you to do something. Something special that will help heal you.”

With a disappointing rush and whoosh of wind pushing her, Valeria dropped back into her body and regretted it instantly. Her blood and bones ached with a chill she didn’t think even Mama’s down comforter and a big fire in the hearth could banish.

Did she truly remember a dragon nest where she’d been warm and free of pain?

“Wake up, Val!” Glenndon ordered her.

With supreme effort she shook her head and tried to escape her body again.

“Not yet, Valeria!” Glenndon continued. “You have to help us help you.”

Lillian’s soft weeping pulled her back to physical form.

Then Indigo nudged her hand until it rested atop his head. His rhythmic purrs, working in time with his breathing, soothed her enough to open her eyes.

“That’s a good girl,” the princess said, smoothing Valeria’s tangled hair, separating the long strands from Lillian’s matching curls.

(Dawn, the time of transition,)
Indigo said. But his voice was full, awesome in the way it penetrated her mind and body, as if he spoke with the authority and the company of all dragons.

“We have to do this now,” Glenndon said. He looked to the princess with questions in his eyes.

“I don’t know how,” she said. “Your blood is linked to hers. Mine is not. I can’t lead this spell.”

“Wh . . . what spell?” Valeria croaked out.

“Val, you have to change,” Lillian sobbed. “You have to become a flywacket like Indigo. You have to let the dragon spirit within you take control. You can’t be my twin anymore.” Tears choked her and her chest heaved with crying.

I will always be your twin. I will always be with you, Lily. Even if we are separated. My mind is only a thought away.
Easier to speak with her mind than her mouth. Like Glenndon. His throat used to hurt horribly when he spoke. The effort to speak made her entire body ache.

(Circle,)
Indigo said. He sounded uncertain.

“A ritual circle, or should we join in a circle, all touching you?” the princess asked. She seemed the only one capable of thinking clearly at this moment.

(Both.)

That sounded right. They needed to contain the spell within a circle drawn and then work the spell with them all involved, all touching Indigo’s soft fur. So soft. So comforting. So easy to fall asleep with her face nestled in the thick luxury of his black coat . . .

(Awake, my child,)
Indigo ordered. His thoughts pierced her mind like a sharp knife.

She came alert with all of the pain and chill in her body that she wanted to escape.

“All will be well in just a few moments, sweetie,” the princess soothed. “I know you hurt, but if you can endure just a few more moments you will feel a lot better.”

Promise?

“I promise.”

Glenndon chanted something. His voice rose and fell, drifted away, and came close again. When he settled in front of her, she sensed more than saw a bubble of magic around them all. Mostly blue and gold, it had lots of purple lines dancing around, weaving patterns of light and dark, adding to the power of the circle.

Valeria wondered if every dragon alive in all of Kardia Hodos was present in that bubble.

She didn’t have long to think about it. Indigo swelled beneath her cheek. First his fur bristled; each hair within his coat doubled in size and trapped air between the tips and his skin—his very pale, almost transparent skin. He extended his wings so that they formed a tent over her and Lillian. The black feathers thinned and spread, looking more like the membranes of a dragon’s wings, transparent except for the indigo-colored veins and tips.

But he didn’t go all the way to full dragon size. He couldn’t fit inside the room if he did. Not even as big a room as this was with the useless extra height to the ceiling.

“Watch Indigo, Val,” Glenndon ordered. He had one hand on the flywacket’s head and the other on Valeria.

She noted that both the princess and Lillian each touched some part of Indigo and herself.

(Anyone can gather magic from a purple-tip,)
Indigo chuckled.

“Watch how Indigo collapses himself, drawing all of the light his pale fur and wings reflect back inside himself,” Glenndon said in that strange chanting voice, almost as if he sang the words to an old dance tune she’d heard in the village.

“Watch,” Lillian added her command to their brother’s.

“Watch and copy, sweetie,” the princess said, her voice penetrating the fog of Val’s mind better than the others. “Copy what he does. No, don’t think about it. Just do it!” She sounded so much like Da when he taught her how to reach deep into the Kardia and draw forth the energy of a ley line, Valeria had no choice but to obey.

Without thinking too hard, she sent her magic deep, deeper, deeper yet through all the levels of stone and thick plank flooring into the dirt and native rock beneath, then outward, seeking a silvery blue line that pulsed with power. She rejoiced at the abundant lines, fat and luscious and eager to bleed off a little of what they were. If she took all she could absorb and then some, she barely touched the amount of energy they offered. She had no fear of exhausting the lines, didn’t have to take a dab here and a drip there, never enough to sustain her or feed the dragon spirit within her. It all came to her with a jolt and a heady rush.

Dizzy with excitement she found Indigo’s mind, saw how he transformed, even this partial change within the confines of an artificial building. Easy to mimic his actions. The simplest thing in the world now that she knew how and had all the ley lines in the world converging into one vast pool to feed her.

She didn’t even mind the grinding and crunching sensation in her bones as they distorted and changed angles. She wanted to laugh at the tickles from sprouting fur.

And then she allowed the dragon spirit to surge forth and let her own mind drift in the background. For a time she’d let the dragon have dominance. But only for a little while, until she healed.

Her throat rumbled with new tones as she drifted to sleep, deeper tones, more authoritative.

Indigo spoke,
(The balance of twins is restored. Now, I need a strong dose of Tambootie.)
Then he disappeared in a cloud of sparkling light.

CHAPTER 40

“S
TARGODS! I HAD NO IDEA old Lyman was such a strong personality,” Glenndon sighed as he plunked down on the floor, his legs no longer capable of holding him up, even kneeling. The cold planks seeped a chill into his butt and down his thighs that felt almost good.

The protective bubble of magic shredded, the purple lines of power remained visible longest. Eventually even they crumbled to dust and fell to the floor. A glittery sheen remained. It too faded quickly, leaving no trace of the magic except . . . expect Valeria was gone and a new black flywacket lifted its head from being tucked between curved front paws. It blinked sleepily and peered back at him with bewildered magician blue eyes.

Lillian held tight to the ball of black fur, crying copiously.

Glenndon had no idea where Indigo had gone.

(The balance of twins is restored. There can only be one flywacket at a time, just as there can only be one purple-tip at a time. I can remain the purple-tipped dragon now.)
He sounded quite proud of himself as his voice moved farther and farther away.

(I will not desert you, my brother. I am only a thought away from you. Always.)

“Lyman? Who is that?” Linda asked. She looked almost as tired as Glenndon felt, and she had not carried the weight of the spell. Or had she? Their bond was strong. They’d been linked to each other and to Indigo since he’d drawn the spell circle.

“He was the oldest of the old magicians. I surmise, from what I’ve seen and heard over the years, that he was born a purple dragon, long, long ago. He was the twin who chose to become something else at the age of two.”

“He took over the body of a dying child,” Linda whispered. “He saved a loving couple the grief of losing a child.”

Glenndon had to gulp at that, knowing how many children Linda’s parents had lost before they were born. He shared her sadness for a moment.

“But it was Valeria’s body that was weak, not her spirit,” Glenndon said on a deeply indrawn breath. “I think one of the reasons she was always so sickly and fragile was because of her constant battle to dominate the dragon spirit within her. She didn’t have much left over to ever let her body rest and heal.”

“If I hadn’t just witnessed what I did, and heard Lyman’s voice in my head, I don’t think I could believe such a strange tale,” Linda admitted. She listed a bit as she joined him on the floor. They leaned against each other, perfectly companionable in the silence.

“Glenndon! Where’s Val?” Da demanded bursting into the room. The door bounced against the wall and nearly slammed back into him on the rebound. He thrust it aside again and stormed into the room with long strides and deep fear creasing his face. He’d managed to loosen his queue enough to relieve the stark uplift of his eyebrows. Mama always plaited his queue too tightly.

Mama.

“My Lord Jaylor,” Linda said, not moving from her post beside him. “Indigo is gone back to the dragons. Valeria is now the flywacket, Lillian’s boon companion for as long as needed.” She related the necessary information without embellishment or apology.

“Your mother let you go through with this?” Da demanded.

Mama.

“We decided we did not have time for her to respond. Valeria’s body was nearly dead. We brought her back in the nick of time. In such a dangerous situation, we thought it best to tell Lady Brevelan after the fact,” Linda interceded again.

Da
harrumphed
and grumbled under his breath. “We’d best get that painful chore over with.” He stumbled forward, one hand reaching for Lillian, the other to rest upon Valeria’s head.

The flywacket sat up and preened, leaning its face into his hand, demanding chin scritches. How many times had they seen Mama’s pets do the same?

But this was no pet. This was his sister, Valeria. Already a brightness that had been missing since she was born infused her eyes.

How much of that was Valeria healing and Lyman assuming dominance in their dual spirit?

(Where is the nearest Tambootie tree?)
Lyman demanded.

“Um . . . Indigo told me that the Tambootie is no longer filled with nutrients essential to the dragons,” Glenndon said apologetically.

“He told you that?” Da asked. His voice finally fell below the level of a roar.

“Indigo tells me many things,” Glenndon defended himself. He still didn’t have the strength to stand and face his father—his Da—as he should.

“And what do you intend to do about it?” Da asked, new respect in the way he surveyed Glenndon. Then he shifted his gaze to Lillian and Valeria. His countenance softened. “I never would have thought of this as a solution.”

“It is only temporary. Make sure Mama knows that,” Glenndon pleaded. “We have not robbed her of Val, one of her children. Just . . . I’m not certain how to describe it, but we’re sure, that as soon as Val rests in body and mind, she will surge forth and demand her body back.”

“If Lyman lets her,” Linda said very softly. Glenndon wasn’t sure Da had heard her.

He underestimated the Senior Magician.

“Is that what the problem has been all along? Val fighting Lyman for dominance?” Da roared again. High color stained his cheeks.

Glenndon was sure he’d roused the entire palace with that question.

The flywacket pressed itself deeper into the chair, almost hiding behind Lillian, who still cried abundantly into its fur.

“Lyman?” Da asked in that tone of voice that made apprentices quail and master magicians look for places to be elsewhere.

(Er, um, I may have caused the girl a little distress.)

“What’s it going to take for you to give up and finally allow yourself to die?” Da reached to grab the flywacket by the scruff of its neck, but Lillian threw herself over the top of the animal.

(This time, I promise I will finally join my ancestors in the void when Valeria is ready to kick me out.)
He sounded repentant. Maybe. Not really
(Unless there is another child in need of the breath of life from an old dragon. I’ve been around so long I am weary of life. But it is a habit that is hard to break.)

Linda prodded Glenndon’s shoulder.
That doesn’t ring true. But Lord Jaylor needs to think it is.

You think he’s lying?
He sent back to her on a tight and private beam.

She shrugged, mimicking his own gesture.
Everyone lies, some more than others.

Why did Lucjemm’s face flash from his memory to hers?

“I’d like to hear from Valeria,” Da said, back to roaring. His eyes narrowed in pain. “Lillian needs to know that her twin still lives.”

(Here, Da. Tired. Hungry. Here always. I promised Lily.)
The mental voice was very much Valeria, just weak and distant. Distracted.

Da grunted something approaching approval.

(About that Tambootie?)
Lyman asked, mentally clearing his throat.

“Not much anywhere near Coronnan City, even if it were still viable,” Da said. His eyes narrowed like he didn’t trust the old man either.

(Then I need to visit the Well of Life. I shall draw sustenance there for a time.)

Glenndon’s attention perked at the mention of his personal quest.

“If you can find it, you are welcome to drink from it, long and deep,” Da said. A bite of sarcasm edged his words.

(Come, boy, I’ll show you where to look.)
The flywacket edged away from Lillian and poised to jump down from the chair. But Lillian threw herself across his back in a new spate of tears.

“You don’t move without Lillian,” Da ordered. “She and Valeria are inseparable. You will cater to her needs as long as you are here.”

“I think we all need to wait on that quest until we’ve eaten,” Linda said, very much in control of herself and taking command of the situation. “My Lord Jaylor, feel free to do what you must to inform Valeria’s mother of the state of things while the rest of us prepare to face the day, and what’s left of the court. I shouldn’t need to remind you that my mother should hear nothing of the night’s alarms and dramas from anyone but her husband.” She crawled upright, using Glenndon’s shoulder as a brace, but nearly sagged with fatigue when she got there.

I’m proud of you, little sister.

Likewise, big brother.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Lucjemm asked.

Linda tried to loosen her clasp of his arm, but his free hand lay atop hers quite possessively.

“If we knew what we were looking for we wouldn’t have to look,” she returned snappishly. She was tired and uncertain of many things. As much as she wanted to think of Lucjemm as a friend and potential suitor, the memory of him staring blankly while reciting the story of how the ugly snake eggs came into his household kept sliding over more friendly images.

Everyone lies,
she reminded herself.
Was that story a lie, a memory, or someone, or
something
, manipulating him?

Parading about the city with Glenndon, Lord Jaylor, Lillian, and Valeria/Lyman required that she appear as Princess Royale Rosselinda. She had to wear a gown in the latest fashion that she had dictated, two fewer petticoats and a straighter line to the skirt. The yards of fabric snaking around her legs annoyed her almost as much as the way Lucjemm seemed to stake a claim on her.

She just wanted to be left alone so she could sleep.

What had he and P’pa agreed to last night in their private meeting?

And why had P’pa allowed Lucjemm to accompany them on magician business? The king had not allowed her any private time to ask her questions. He seemed more preoccupied than usual.

“I grew up here. Old Baamin, my other tutors, and my classmates became my family,” Lord Jaylor muttered. “Now this childhood home is occupied by soldiers.” He scanned the protective wall encircling the building. They had walked all the way around the perimeter on the narrow path that separated it from the river.

The old but sturdy plank bridge from Palace Isle to University Isle that they’d crossed an hour ago rose in front of them again.

Glenndon kept his eyes on the ground during the entire trek. The flywacket sniffed everything, more like a dog than a cat. Its ears cocked and rotated every few seconds. Lillian, still weepy and slumped, had no interest in anything but keeping the flywacket in sight, preferably with her hand on some part of it. Thankfully, it kept its wings safely hidden.

Then Lucjemm smiled at her. “Thank you for trusting me with this expedition. I know it involves magic, but since the Council no longer dictates or ignores our laws on a whim, I can fully and openly support your father in this search.” He licked his lips, reminding her of the times they had kissed.

She couldn’t help licking her own lips in anticipation of the next kiss. Linda relaxed. This was Lucjemm, the real Lucjemm, not the enthralled personality of last night. Then she got lost in his warm, brown eyes. She saw nothing beyond his need to be with her, for whatever purpose, whenever she needed him.

“Da!” Glenndon interrupted them with an imperious shout.

Linda had to shake herself out of her daydream of love and companionship.

“What have you found?” Lord Jaylor stepped from the base of the thick wall to Glenndon’s post a few yards ahead, closer to the steep river embankment.

Linda shifted her vision from Lucjemm to what Glenndon saw. Not so difficult a task now as it was yesterday.

Practice makes perfect, little sister.

An entire river of silver blue sprang before her eyes. She’d expected some of the thin webbing he’d shown her earlier, not this massive accumulation.
The Well?
she thought back at him with more than a hint of breathless awe.

We are close. Very close.
His gaze turned to the massive wall. “Da, we have to get inside.”

Lord Jaylor nodded curtly.

“How?” Lucjemm asked. “The army does not accept visitors lightly.” He sounded petulant, as if he’d tried and been rejected.

Hmmmmm. Why would he want to enter the private quarters of P’pa’s army, other than to join them? Considering his rank, and his father’s influence, he didn’t have to join the army. He could raise his own troops (or his father’s) and command them himself.

Who did have command of the army gathering at Battle Mound? Jemmarc? Or someone else?

Every time she convinced herself that she wanted to love this young man, be his friend at least, he did or said something that made her think twice about him and his actions.

She separated from him to stand a little closer to her brother.

“We can’t just waltz in,” Lucjemm said glumly.

Linda and Glenndon looked to each other with a single thought. “Rank has its privileges,” they said at the same time.

Lord Jaylor raised his eyebrows. “Of course, the Crown Prince and the Princess Royale may go where they will. Even General Marcelle would not deny either of you entrance.” He bowed with a sweeping gesture toward the narrow pedestrian gate—only wide enough for one person to enter or exit at a time—beside the central entrance that was broad enough to admit four mounted soldiers riding side by side, or two sledge steeds pulling a full load of supplies.