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Chapter Thirty-Two
We rest for an hour before pressing on. Angelaria applies a soothing salve to my skin and dresses my abdomen with another bandage. I feel like I've been mauled by a bear, and it's a bit difficult to get up and move again.
With evening coming on, I can make out the hazy outline of smoke wafting its way out of the woods.
"Who do you think won the fight?" Talen asks, pulling me to my feet.
"I'm not sure," I say. "There weren't too many troops in the basement area, at least not any that I'd seen. But there was that really big skeleton fellow. HE was impressive."
"Skeleton fellow?" Angelaria asks.
I nod. "You saw him, didn't you Talen?''
"I'd remember if I'd seen a big skeleton, Kian. But I hadn't quite made it as far into the main hall as you. What'd he look like?"
I pause to think of the words to describe such a creature when Correldon points out a path for us to follow. It's a narrow thing that wends its way betwixt small hills and through a grove of trees with white bark. The broad green leaves overhead scatter the sunlight, breaking it into golden motes that fall around his shoulders making the elf look somehow ethereal to my eyes.
"He was tall," I say a few minutes later. I take up the rear which affords me a better vantage point to relay my story. "Taller than two men with one standing on the shoulders of the other."
"Could have been a bone golem," Angelaria offers. "They're powerful magical constructs."
"A magical construct? He was wearing a crown, and I think it's probably pure gold. It looked quite impressive."
Angelaria replies with, "Bone golems don't wear crowns, at least not any that I've seen."
"Maybe it was a king bone golem," Talen offers.
"No, I don't think so. Dark elves would never give their allegiance to a magical construct. No, it was definitely something else."
"His eyes glowed too," I say, "like...with an unholy light."
"Is there any other kind of glow?" she teases, ruffling my hair with her hand. "I'd hardly expect him to be glowing with a HOLY light. Still, it does seem odd."
After another hour, the sky yields itself to the night. Here underneath the canopy the shadows lengthen, and before long, darkness makes it impossible for us to find our way without Correldon and Talen's unique abilities. Their low-light vision picks out things that I wish I could see. Why did I have to break my suit? Still there's something wonderful about a midsummer night in the woods bereft of such technology. For one, the nocturnal song from crickets fills the space between the trees, and if that weren't enough there's the lightning bugs.
"Angelaria," I start to say but then stop for a moment as a bit of moonlight finds its way to the forest floor. She turns her head and the almost porcelain features of her face make the words lodge in my throat. At last I find my tongue. "What exactly is a magical construct?"
"Some extremely talented wizards with enough resources can make creatures from inanimate materials to serve and protect them. If I was ever to build one, I'd probably start with iron or clay. Necromancers use bones and flesh; their constructions end up as horrific shambling piles of rotting meat."
"Do you think the cleric that attacked us was in control of the bone golem?" Talen asks.
"Hypothetically speaking? No. He was a cleric, which is a far cry from the profession of 'necromancer.' Clerics devote themselves to worship. However, I caveat that a church the size of Modru's would certainly have the resources I spoke of earlier. Even considering this condition, it's more than likely a construct under the control of an ally or even a servant of something we haven't seen yet. It could even be under the control of a necromancer of great power. If this is the case, you can bet he was in charge of all the dark forces at Wraith Watch."
"I thought the green dragon ruled Wraith Watch," I say.
"That's possible, but not probable. I imagine that the green dragon was also a lackey of some kind."
"What could POSSIBLY have the might to control a dragon?" Talen scoffs.
"A wizard," she replies. "Some wizards have created magical items of such great power that it defies imagination. Artifacts they call dragon orbs; imagine a crystal ball capable of enslaving dragons of all kinds. Maybe someone got their hands on one and is using it to control the green dragon that Kian saw in the hollows."
"I need to get me one of those," Talen says even as he leaps a moss-covered log. "It'd be useful."
"You couldn't use one effectively," she chides. "They require intelligence."
"There's no need to get insulting," he says defensively.
I just laugh but not so much that Talen may think I'm picking on him.
The three of us follow Correldon until midnight. During our last break we eat some sandwiches that Angelaria packed away for us before leaving the village of Rendla Fee. The one she hands me is still cold, and I wonder how she accomplished this considering that the day was reasonably warm.
Talen puts a hand on my shoulder and says, "Don't ask. A girl's gotta have some secrets."
A smile and one tasty bite later, I decide it's really not all that important. She's an extremely resourceful girl who's already demonstrated a great deal of magical power.
After my midnight snack, I take a walk down a path that takes me to the east side of the ring of hills we've been following. There's a stream running over rocks and rotting trees at the bottom and there's enough light from two of the moons that I can see pretty clearly. At the edge of the water, I take a moment and douse my shirt in the freezing water. When I put it on again, the soothing cold feels great on my bruised skin. Gingerly, I check beneath the bandages; the purple spot has turned a shade of yellow along the edges.
I grimace and head back to join the others. Shortly after that, we camp for the night.
The next sunrise is more telling as I wake up as sore as ever. Once I blink the pain away though, I notice how magical the morning is. A thick haze drifts lazily through the trees, lending everything a fine shimmering shawl of dew. I stand, nudge Talen awake with my toe, and he sits up with befuddlement in his eyes and irritation on his tongue.
"Must you?" he asks.
Before I can answer, Correldon interrupts.
"There's an interesting thing I'd like the both of you to see," he says.
When I turn my head, the elf's standing there in the mist where nothing had been only a moment before.
Blast, how does he do that?
"Do you think the two of you can be quiet?" he asks.
"Of course," I say, glancing sideways at Talen. "Lead on."
Correldon takes off into the woods. Angelaria, who's just now starting to wake up, waves us off with a hand saying (more or less) that whatever it is, she doesn't feel up to looking at it quite yet.
So Correldon leads us over rock and under fallen tree and across a beaver dam spanning a small creek. The dam looks ancient and huge. When we get to the other side, the elf cautions us to be more careful now, and both Talen and I follow his example by taking a little more time to choose our steps. The mist occasionally parts and reveals bits and pieces of wondrous beauty. That's when I see it: something silver. Beyond several maple trees there are two dragons playing.
One's small, obviously a child or wyrmling. The other's a great beast with a long serpentine neck and red, almost gem-like eyes. The scales of the parent dragon shimmer like molten metal all along its body, and it walks about on four legs. Emerging from its back are two enormous wings, which the dragon spreads with water dripping from the reflective skin. The two magnificent beasts are enjoying the privacy the morning fog affords. The smaller one sits in the creek, allowing itself the pleasure of dipping its head in the water and letting it slide down its back.
We observe the two dragons for a minute or so, and then Cory takes us back to our encampment. Talen's the first to speak out. "Were those silver dragons?"
Correldon nods. "Sometimes they fly down from the mountains to hunt. It looked like they were just enjoying the morning, much like we sometimes do."
"I see," Talen says. "Are they dangerous?"
"All dragons are dangerous," the elf says. "These are not as dangerous as some. I just wanted you to see them because it's rare for someone to come across a thing so beautiful and yet so magical."
I agree with him. In fact I think about the two dragons all morning while rubbing the now polished end of my tongue ring against the roof of my mouth. I have so many questions. Has anyone ever used a dragon as a mount? What do they eat? How old do they live?
Having a dragon like that to carry you around would be extremely cool. I chalk another wish down on my imaginary list of things I want. And boy is that list ever getting long.
The fog burns off by about noon, and the four of us follow Correldon who seems to know instinctively how to pick out the best trail through the woods. Angelaria is satisfied in our retelling of the morning's events; I get the impression that she's seen something similar before and doesn't believe she's missed anything special. Not so much, mind you, that she's gotten jaded by the experience. But, she's obviously seen enough dragons in her time to avoid getting overly excited.
The weather over the next four days is sunny, clear, and about as good as one can expect. On the afternoon of the fifth day, a rain storm catches us by surprise, and we take shelter under the boughs of a huge sycamore that stands in the center of a clearing. By now, the bruise has begun to retreat, and I discard the bandages. My arm has also healed well enough that I'm able to remove the splint. It's a good thing because it's itchy.
I sit down on one of the branches of the sycamore, feet dangling over the edge, and withdraw the Ruby of Destinies from one of the pouches at my waist. I hold it in the palm of my hand with reflections of lightning occasionally flashing like white fire across its surface.
Around me, the pitter patter of rain never ceases. It seems somehow soothing, and I take this moment to gaze into the depths of the jewel. First off, it's redder than anything I've ever seen. The skin of my hand seems even paler in comparison. I search within the jewel, looking for anything I might have missed. Strangely, even though it's a simple stone, its depths appear endless. Each time I look, I feel strangely at ease, similar to how I feel after a long intense run or a night of great sex.
The showers come and go. When it's over we move out and keep the banks of a river (which Correldon says flows straight to the sea) on our right. Three days later we break free of the forest and a flat expanse of knee-high grass stretches to the horizon.
"It's beautiful," Angelaria says, "Don't you think?"
I nod. Truthfully, I've not seen so much grass before. It's like a never-ending ocean of green waves bobbing up and down with the wind.
"It's deceptively so," Correldon utters. "We should shadow the river until we reach the desert city of Kaibar, which lies on the edge of the Balsoran Stretch. Once we get there, I'll take leave of you for I don't wish to go into the desert itself."
Five days further on, smoke rising from the horizon offers a clue as to why Correldon wanted to keep us close to the riverbank. A wildfire would have caught us with nowhere to run.
"That fire is man-made," Correldon remarks one afternoon while bathing.
"Man-made?" I ask with soap in my ears.
"Why would anyone do that?" Talen asks.
"Sometimes the Daar clansmen start them to burn off areas of dead grass. This stuff near the banks may look green to you, but it dries out quickly."
I examine one of the green blades between my fingers. I swallow uncomfortably, thinking of what I'd do if I was caught by a wall of flame. It happened once before, back in Soulwarden. But that time, magic saved me.
Angelaria appears around the bend and swims over next to Cory and I.
"I think that if I had the time," she says, "I'd dig out a clear area, attempt to make a fire break so there's nothing to burn."
"That's how the Daar control the flame," Correldon says.
"Fire's a strange thing," Angelaria remarks. "It has to eat so if you take away its fuel, it generally goes away."
"You make it sound like it's alive," Talen says.
"Sometimes it seems like it is. Fire reproduces. It needs air to breathe, and it eats like there's no tomorrow. Sometimes it seems to know just what you're thinking because it tries to outwit you. I know it's not alive but sometimes (on a very rare occasion) I think that it's watching me."
I sink into the cool water and finish washing myself.
Angelaria takes hold of my arm. "How's it healing?"
I look down at it. "Good, I suppose. It itches from time to time."
"You're bruises have all but disappeared. I'd say that your 'fit as a fiddle' young Kian Lightfoot," she tells me.
I can't help but kiss her.
At the end of the week, we arrive at the City State of Kaibar.
On our approach, I smell the salty harbor even before I lay eyes upon it. We top a hill and before us is the great Sea of Daryabar, and it stretches into forever. The city's built on the banks of what I now know as the River Cleet, and it's girded by a great wall which towers over the surrounding plain.
On the side closest to us is a barred drainage tunnel. It goes underneath the wall and empties into an oued that winds its way to the harbor. There in the city's elbow are hundreds of ships, some with foreign triangular-shaped sails.
Beyond the city and about a mile or so out from the river, the plain ends and rolling hills dotted with occasional bushes begin. Beyond these, I can only make out the gleam of golden sand shimmering from the baked surface of dunes.
That must be the great desert.
It spreads out like nothing I've ever dreamed. Waves of heat rise from the sun-roasted earth.
We approach the city from the east and circle round to its northern end to arrive on a road that takes us into the main part of Kaibar. The gate's guarded by four men wrapped in black cotton uniforms. Their heads are hidden by turbans. Each carries a kukri: a blade bent to one side. Because I can see little of their faces, there's not much I can discern. Still, I know they spend a great deal of time outdoors. This is revealed in their deeply tanned, almost black skin. Many of them also bear facial tattoos. This leads me to believe that they might belong to some kind of secret order. Either that or the tattoos serve as a kind of rank in their culture.
As we stride past them, the four men speak to each other in a thick guttural accent.
"They're talking about you," Angelaria says. "They've never seen anyone like you."
"Like me?" I ask.
She nods.
"There's lots of people like me."
"She means the blond hair," Correldon says. "They find your blond hair and your fair skin to be unusual. That's what they're talking about."
I smile. It's not the first time I've been noticed for my looks.
Once past the gatehouse, we emerge into a street filled with men and women. They all have dark skin. Some carry baskets filled with anything from exotic fruits to linens and jewelry.
Off to my left, we pass what must be a funeral home. The wall facing the street is sheltered by a wooden awning propped up by a few poles. Adorning the wall is a large tapestry depicting a black camel. The beast bears a human wrapped in white samite up a ziggurat-like staircase above the clouds. The human could've been a man or a woman. I can't tell for sure because the painting is not this specific.
Correldon steers us past another building where I spot a wooden sign depicting two barrels and a hammer, a saw, and a bucket of nails. From inside rings the sound of metal being shaped.
"Here we are," the elf says "We can get good food here."
I glance at the door. Above it there's a sign depicting a blue man with a yellow hat. I later learn this thing's called a fez. Anyway, he's sleeping on a large pile of sparkling golden coins. Next to the entrance is a note, but I can't read it.
Angelaria looks at the writing. "Today's menu," she says, "hot couscous of the djeb, stuffed wild camel, merguez, and grilled shishkebab, homemade chaksukah stew, mint tea, and almond milk."
"That sounds great," Talen says.
I'm just about to add my two cents when I see a familiar face looking at me from across the plaza. It's Talisac, but when I look again JUST to be sure, I find he's no longer there.
Next week I shall post Chapter 33. Thanks once again for reading :)