Wizards of Fyre (Island of Fyre Book 3) (14 page)

‘I’m sorry,’
she said.

‘Give him time to consider what you told him. Perhaps tonight you can give him some of the cordial and I can walk through his memories.’

She wasn’t sure that was a good idea, but Dragon needed to know if there was a chance for Arton to change. The young wizard needed to learn what the ones from years past had done
. ‘I’ll try.’

‘He needs to know all.’

Lorana had to agree, but would knowing bring a change in his desire to prove himself to the wizards? She cut meat from the haunch for the evening meal and gave the rest to Dragon.

‘Where should we go come spring?’
she asked.

‘To the clans.’

‘Why?’

‘Since they are kin to the riders of old, I can read some of the clansmen and women’s thoughts. There are many who want the wizards gone.’

Lorana closed her eyes. How could she and Dragon accomplish this? In the hareem she’d heard stories of the clans and their way of life before the wizards had arrived. Could she and Dragon use this to gain allies? She knew many of the guards and the hareem women belonged to the clans and had been captured by the wizards.

She wasn’t sure she and Dragon could win. The wizards had their wands and were capable of killing those who opposed them. She had seen what Arton could do with the wands with colored stones. If he joined the wizards, there was no chance for a rebellion to succeed. If he was more powerful than those evil men, she wanted him to be on her side.

* * *

When Arton fled from Lorana and Dragon, he hid in the dark tunnel beyond the pool cavern. He had to think. How could she refuse to return to the safety of the citadel? What were she and Dragon planning? He could see no way they could remain in this cavern system. He couldn’t see a way to help her. He was a wizard by talent, not birth. He settled against the wall and let his thoughts wander.

He thought of the stones. The other wizards discounted the power of any but the white. His foreign birth could be the reason he sensed power in all the colors of the stones. He also considered the use of ironwood for the wands and how this had extended the longevity of the whites.

Fear for Lorana and Dragon rose. Remaining here would bring the wizards and their wands. They would win.

You can help.

For a moment he thought Dragon spoke in his head. Was that possible? Not unless Lorana formed a bridge. The idea was his. He considered what he wanted. His first desire was to protect Lorana. Even proving himself to the other wizards was of less value. He cared for her. He wanted to be with her again, exploring her body and joining with her.

Options presented themselves. He had to make a decision.
Lorana, Dragon and rebellion against seeking safety in the citadel.

He leaned toward safety. Could they find that here? Mecador would kill Dragon for his pelt. Arton thought of never seeing the dragon in flight again. Sadness brought a rush of regret.

What about Lorana? Had she been right when she spoke about Mecador? He thought of the many times other women had exited the chief wizard’s suite. Sometimes more than one had returned looking as though they’d been savaged during their visit.

He closed his eyes. Making a decision was difficult. He wondered if his help would aid in defeating the number of wizards the citadel could send into a fight. He drifted to sleep filled with dreams. Some of victory and others of defeat.

Arton stretched. His stomach growled. He staggered down the tunnel until he reached the other cave. Dragon filled the opening. Lorana stood at the fire flipping cakes made from ground okala nuts.

She looked up. “Come eat. There’s plenty.”

“Thanks.” He felt guilty. Today had been his time for preparing the meal. He filled a gold plate and dripped honey on the cakes. “Clean up is mine.”

Lorana filled her own plate. She sat across from him. “Where were you?”

“In the tunnel where I found the fyrestones.” He took a bite, chewed and swallowed. “I want to speak to Dragon. You could be right about the wizards, but I need to be sure. Dragon was here when they arrived. He can tell me what happened.”

Lorana stared at Dragon. Her eyes took on the blank look, convincing Arton the pair spoke. The animal left the opening and sat behind them. After they finished eating she leaned against her friend and clasped Arton’s hand.

‘What do you want to know?’

‘About wizards and dragons.’

Pictures flowed into Arton’s head.
Dragons, green, yellow red and blue, soared above the citadel forming colorful and fascinating patterns. The scene changed until he saw dragons flying over the desert and above the hills leading to the mountains. He saw laughing men, women, and children. He watched clansmen and their riding beasts.

Abruptly the scene changed and he saw a flotilla of trader ships. Small boats were lowered from the anchored ships and landed on the shore. Men wearing black robes over trousers with straight legs strode along the beach. The wands in their hands showed white light streaming from the tips.

One of the wizards stepped to the fore of the group. “We claim this land and now become the Wizards of Fyre.”

Dragons flew overhead and attacked. Their riders shot arrows. Men on riding beasts raced toward the wizards. They hurled spears into the black mass. White flames shot from the wands and struck the dragons’ eyes, blinding them. One after another the massive creatures fell. Some fled the scene, heading toward the desert or the hills.

The cries and screams of the dying beasts filled Arton’s head. He clasped Lorana’s hands tighter as more scenes unfolded.

He watched the flight of Dragon’s kin racing for the hills. He saw the caves and heard people talk. Then he was with Dragon alone and afraid, listening as one by one the voices of his kin died. Then came a time of darkness.

“Arton, Arton, wake,” Lorana called.

Tears he didn’t realize he’d shed covered his cheeks. He dropped Lorana’s hands and wiped a tear from her face with a finger. He grieved for the deaths he’d witnessed and the beauty of a mass of dragons in flight. When he finally rose, he walked to the cavern entrance. Snow fell but not as heavy as the blizzard when he and Lorana had set out to find Dragon.

* * *

Cregan paused in front of the door to the council room where he was to meet his father. Through the closed okala door he heard men’s voices. Several were raised in anger. He stepped closer and pressed his ear against the wood.

“By spring the council will be full. I want you to vote now.”

“Your plan is flawed,” one man shouted.

His father’s voice matched the other. “We will conscript the clansmen and use the traders’ ships to carry us to the other parts of the isle. We will rule all three sections. No one can stand against us.”

Cregan heard chairs move across the stone floor. He walked away from the door, hurried down the hall and around a corner. He liked his father’s idea, but he would be the one to lead the council. Before then he needed to learn more about his father’s plans.

He peered around the corner. Eleven council members left the room. Once the hall cleared he left his hiding place and walked to the council room. He stopped in the doorway.

“Come in. Close the door. No one will enter.” Mecador rose from his seat at the table. “This is the best place to continue your studies. I will show you things the others don’t know.”

Cregan did as ordered. How much would Mecador teach him that the other wizards didn’t know? “What’s today’s lesson?” he asked.

“Joining power.” Mecador laughed. “You’ll learn how to take over one person’s wand. I can handle five and direct them where I want.”

“Why not all eleven?”

“Six members oppose my ideas. When you take your seat on the council I will have six plus myself to rule and control.”

Cregan’s hands clenched. There was no way he would be ruled. He would be the one in control. “So that’s why Arton and I are competing. I’m ready to learn.”

“Seek Arton. I will add my power to yours and then take over from you. Pay close attention to what I do.”

“I will.”

“Search for him.”

Cregan carefully built a mind picture of his rival. With the image in mind he sent power through the wand to the white. The fyrestone pointed north and east. Relief washed through him. Arton lived.

A moment later he felt Mecador join him. The added power brought a sense of being invincible. Cregan savored the union. The joined power touched Arton. He wasn’t alone. Mecador seized the meld. Though Cregan resisted, he failed to keep the chief wizard from absorbing his power. Cregan sensed the presence of a third party with Arton. Who?

Fury flooded the joined power. White flames shot from both wands. The flames traveled along the wood. Cregan dropped his wand. He stared at the ashes and blackened stone. “What does this mean?”

“Arton has betrayed us. Lorana is no longer untouched. We must destroy them both.”

Cregan leaped to his feet. “How can I take the seat on the council if he’s dead?”

“You will have your place. When spring arrives you will lead the party into the hills. You will challenge him to a duel of wands. Once you win, you will bring them both here. I will take care of Lorana. Then she will be yours. On that day Arton will die.”

“If she’s been with Arton I don’t want her.”

Mecador laughed. “There will be other women for you. Lorana must remain alive. She is the only one who knows how to brew the poison and the cordial.”

Cregan bowed his head. “If Arton has increased his power as much as you believe, how can I win?”

“You will train every day and your strength will increase, and you will also have the tricks I show you.”

Cregan rose. “Let us begin.”

“Not today. I sensed your fury over me taking charge of the meld. You must control your anger.”

Cregan continued staring at the floor. Anger roiled in his gut. One day Mecador would learn who held the power.

* * *

Lorana sat in the outer cave and stared at the unrolled deerskins. She lifted the knife she’d taken from the treasure room. Though the knife looked like silver, there was no tarnish. The blade remained bright. No matter how many times she’d used it the edge remained sharp. She closed her eyes and thought about making the first cut. Using her trousers and tunic as a pattern she hesitated. She hoped her attempt to replicate the garments worked. Once cuts had been made she used a thin pointed knife to make holes in the leather.

Using thin pieces of hide she sewed the garments. The task took three days for the first and two for the second set. With the clothing complete, she made large and small sacks. Some were lined with stomachs and bladders. These could hold liquids. Arton helped prepare what they would need to carry food and water. Though Dragon couldn’t carry either of them on his back, he could carry provisions. Arton designed a halter for this purpose.

Would Arton come with them? Though he’d shared Dragon’s memories, she wasn’t sure. After helping her with the sacks, he sat and constructed wands of ironwood with stones of different colors at the tips. She feared he made them for the wizards. How many wands did he need?

A sound startled her. She raised her head. Arton knelt in front of her. “I must tell you this. All I have seen and heard from Dragon makes me believe the wizards must be driven away.”

She nodded. “Can you tell me just how powerful they are?”

“There are twelve wizards of the first level. All are powerful, but Mecador is the strongest. Cregan is his student and has the potential to match his father. There are eleven wizards of the second level. They may have as much power as the others.”

Lorana frowned. “Will they work together?”

Arton cocked his head. “I’m not sure. I once heard one of the others say Mecador can meld with the other wand wielders.”

“How many can he control?”

“I don’t know but he challenged at least five of the other council members to gain his position as chief wizard.”

“So he’s the real power.” She rose. “Do you think he has taught his son all he knows?”

“He would show Cregan some of his tricks,” Arton said. “Mecador knows how Cregan craves power. I think he would hold back some of his methods.”

Lorana rose. “With Dragon’s help, we’ll make plans for the spring.” She felt they had a chance to defeat the wizards. Especially if she could find fyrethorn bushes and persuade the clans to join the fight.

* * *

Dragon waited in his lair for Arton and Lorana. The pair reminded him of the red and blue riders. Unfortunately they would never experience the joy of flight. They could enjoy the pleasures of being bonded. Lorana was afraid Arton would enslave her. Dragon wished there was a way to calm her fears and convince the young wizard she was his equal.

Though Arton was wizard-trained, he wasn’t one of the blood. His ability to use the other stones made that clear. Could Lorana use one of them? Dragon had doubts. Her ability to speak to him without aid deemed that impossible. He might ask her to try, but not yet. Not until she felt more comfortable with their plans and with Arton.