Текст книги "Regent"

Автор книги: Brian Rathbone

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

"By the gods," Brother Vaughn said. "What did you just do?" Then he seemed to recall himself. "Never you mind that question, dear. You saved us. That's what you did." Still, when Brother Vaughn found a still-slightly glowing and perfectly preserved herald globe at the center of an area where even much of the black rock had been blasted away, he retrieved it with cautious awe. "Come. We must leave this place. Quickly."

Chapter 13

The true measure of a person can be seen in the way they treat those less powerful than themselves.

– The Pauper King

For Sinjin, reaching the end of the stone bridge was like waking from a bad dream only to find himself in a new nightmare. More howls came from behind, and he grunted with exertion as he did his best to give Brother Vaughn a boost. His strength was fading, and Brother Vaughn had to find what toeholds he could to complete the climb. Trinda was much easier to lift, and Brother Vaughn was there to reach down and grab her, but that left Sinjin standing alone at the bottom of a nearly shear face. Down low, the face was smoother and devoid of toeholds. Brother Vaughn took off his outer robe and held it down to Sinjin. With a running start, Sinjin jumped without a great deal of confidence, but fear and adrenaline brought him close to success. With his second jump, he got a grip on the robe. The sound of tearing cloth was nearly as frightening as the sight of Brother Vaughn nearly going over the edge, but the robe held and Brother Vaughn regained his balance.

Even with the robe to hold on to, it was a difficult climb. When Sinjin finally reached the top, he slid down into a heaving and quivering mass.

"I'd let you rest, m'boy, but we've got to go," Brother Vaughn said, and Trinda showed her agreement by pulling on Sinjin's shirt, her eyes pleading.

Sinjin knew they were right; he could hear more demons coming, and he knew they needed to move, but he could not get his body to respond. He felt Brother Vaughn grab his jacket between the shoulders, and he tried to stand, but he leaned heavily on the already abused monk. Trinda eyed them both with doubt, as if she expected them to collapse at any moment. Sinjin did his best to prove her wrong and, after a few minutes, was able to walk on his own, though he and Brother Vaughn stayed side by side in case either needed help. Trinda walked ahead of them without complaint. The herald globe glowed brightly, as if it had been charged in the sunlight, though not as brightly as it had been when Trinda had fed it her energy.

"Did you give it more?" Sinjin asked Trinda when his strength began to return.

"A little." She shrugged.

"And was it easy to give it just a little and not everything you had?" Sinjin asked, and Brother Vaughn looked up, awaiting her answer.

Trinda just gave him an annoyed look. "I didn't have very much." Her look made it clear she wanted no more questions about that.

Sinjin sighed and wondered if he would ever understand the ways of those with power. It seemed so foreign to him, even though he was part of the most powerful family on Godsland. He'd seen things no one else had, yet he could explain none of it, could feel none of it, and that terrified him. It was a fear he'd carried most of his life, and these days seemed no more likely to bring an answer or solace.

The sights around him would have been met with awe under any other circumstances, but Sinjin barely noticed the carvings and reliefs or the repeating scrollwork along the walls of the gracefully arching halls. Feeling like prey chased into someone else's territory, Sinjin forced himself to move faster, and he found himself offering support to Brother Vaughn, not knowing where he had found the strength.

Walking in a daze, he almost didn't notice the change. It had been gradual, but the light continued to grow until they no longer needed the herald globe to light their way. Brother Vaughn looked as if he wanted the globe back from Trinda, but she put it in the pocket of her dress, and the elder monk said nothing. Hues of amber cast a warm glow on the otherwise cold stone, and Sinjin felt a weight lift from his soul. Even though he could not access Istra's power, he missed the warm radiance of sunlight and, he supposed, the light of the comets as well. His mother always said that the comets were the most beautiful things she had ever seen and that they had not been in the sky when she was young, but for Sinjin, the comets had always been there. Even though there were more than when he was younger, he couldn’t imagine a time without them. They were so commonplace to him, they did not seem so beautiful. Also detracting from their majesty in his eyes was that they seemed more like the force that divided him from his family and had caused most of the bad things that had happened to his mother. If not for Istra's powers, would the Zjhon have ever invaded his homeland?

The beauty of what lay ahead tore Sinjin from his melancholy thoughts. First came the sound of moving water over the rush of a distant fall, then the smell of lush grasses and apple blossoms. Before them waited an underground world that was full of life and wonder. White birds glided in the air over trees that were far wider than they were tall. Though the mighty cavern could have held greatoaks, it seemed most of the vegetation remained closer to the ground. Looking up, Sinjin's breath caught in his chest. A latticework of giant amber crystals formed a vaulted ceiling for the chamber, and these crystals acted as lenses, gathering and intensifying the light from above.

A herd of small deer gathered near a shallow pool for a drink. At first they looked like fauns to Sinjin, so slight were their forms, but several bore small but fully developed racks of antlers. Sinjin wondered what other strange creatures roamed the caverns and how they had come to be there. Then he looked at the waterfall, which cast rainbows about the cavern, and he knew that the river would bring life, though he still wondered about the deer and birds and whatever else might be alive in this place. The land and trees appeared almost manicured. Shadows occasionally moved within the trees. Sinjin did not know if it was merely his imagination, but as they moved closer to the water, his anxiety grew. Still the chance to get a drink of cool, clean water was too good to resist. Mostly ripe apples waited on a nearby tree, and Sinjin picked three, feeling like a thief. As he did, he noticed no apples on the ground nor stray leaves or sticks.

Trinda eyed the apple Sinjin handed her with suspicion and waited for Sinjin to take a few bites of his before she ate it. He couldn't blame her. There was something curious about trees growing inside of a mountain. He wasn’t sure what apples grown in such conditions would be like, yet they tasted delicious. When they had finished the apples, Sinjin wondered what to do with the core. Brother Vaughn looked to be having a similar quandary, but Trinda just finished off her apple and threw the core on the grass. Sinjin and Brother Vaughn eyed it as if they might be punished for their disrespect of this place.

Trinda just put a hand on her hip. "Don't be silly. The deer will eat it."

Not knowing how long she'd slept, Catrin felt thick and groggy when she woke. The cries of gulls filled the air as they feasted in the shallows during low tide. Her skin felt coated in salt, and her hair lay in ropelike clumps. Black sand clung to her leathers and her exposed skin, and she wiped it away, trying to clear the fog from her sleep-addled mind. The sight of the endless horizon brought fear and anxiety, as if she were the only person left on Godsland. Looking around for Kyrien, she found nothing but empty beaches and bare fields of black stone. If not for the gulls, she would have been truly alone.

Tears gathered in her eyes as she felt the guilt of leaving her son and her husband and all of her people to their fates. Though she knew Prios would protect Sinjin and that Chase and Morif would do their best to protect them, she knew what was to come; she'd seen it in visions she prayed would never come to pass. Standing on a lump of rock in the middle of an ocean, she could not have felt more useless. Forcing her tears aside, she climbed to the highest point of the dormant volcano, the only sign of volcanic activity the still glowing gashes in the field of stone and an occasional burst of steam from the far shore. Standing at the edge of the crater, she scanned the horizon and still saw nothing. Within the crater itself, grasses grew, and Catrin was surprised to find berries and leafy greens growing among porous rock.

While she ate, Catrin began to sense the land pulsing with life beneath her feet, and in some ways, she felt closer to the land than she ever had before. Similar to the feeling she had when standing in the Grove of the Elders, it was as if she could reach into Godsland itself and draw upon its power. She let the land guide her to a place near the center of the crater, a place where moss carpeted rounded stones. Here she rested. Composed and calmed, she moved with the pulse of the land, swaying and breathing deeply.

Using the technique Benjin had once taught her, Catrin focused on her center, which rested within the Grove of the Elders as it existed in her memory: a mighty field of black stone surrounded by twenty-one towering greatoaks. At the very center stood the Staff of Life, still blooming in the place where Catrin had planted it more than a decade before. At no time in history had the grove ever looked exactly as Catrin pictured it, at least not all at one time, but Catrin remembered this place the way she wanted it to be: a place of ancient power untouched by the mistakes of a young girl. Old guilt shrouded her heart despite the fact that she had done everything she could to rebuild the grove. Now only time would return it to its previous glory. The crater reminded her a bit of the grove in the way that the power of the land seemed more acute here. It also reminded her that the Staff of Life rested in lands now occupied by dark forces.

Anxiety poured unbidden from the depths of her soul, fears so dark and personal that she could not face them. In her most terrifying visions, she'd seen herself become the face of death, a wielder of such weapons that all would cower before her, and she had fought to become something else ever since. When making the herald globes, she'd been a creator, yet it seemed as if her true destiny was to be the destroyer. Perhaps in that the old prophecies had been right. Perhaps she had no choice but to become an avatar of death.

Is a sword only used to kill?

The thought echoed from Catrin's subconscious, distant and faint but nonetheless poignant. Catrin had used that very argument to convince Strom to make her a weapon: the sword that lay in her lap, gleaming in the preternatural light of Catrin's meditation. It was a tool-a deadly and dangerous tool. It terrified her. Always she had questioned her right to end the life of another, always she wondered what made her life more valuable than the other’s, and always she felt unworthy of those who had died so she could live.

Your work is not yet done.

That thought came from a memory of the druid Barabas and his farewell to her. He'd given his life to save hers, and his parting words frightened her more than anything else. She had yet to earn that sacrifice. Her greatest challenges lay before her, which meant there was the chance she would fail, that she would dishonor those who had made the greatest sacrifice. Fear that she would fail all those who were counting on her came to the fore and threatened to smother her, but Catrin was no longer a little girl, and she would not let fear rule her. Something had happened to her when she became a mother; her own well-being had become somehow secondary to the needs of Sinjin, and as long as he lived, she would have everything she needed to overcome her fear.

Thoughts of Sinjin drew Catrin out of the grove, and her consciousness soared. In the past she had astrally traveled and had visions, but what happened next seemed more like a mixture of the two. Unlike past visions, she could exert control over where she was, but unlike astral travel, she felt uncertain of whenshe was. Something about what she saw made it seem unreal. It rippled and shifted as in dreams, and her thoughts influenced all that she saw. Her heart was drawn to the Godfist, and she soared over the seas faster than the swiftest bird. The Godfist rushed toward her, accompanied by a heavy feeling in Catrin's chest. Smoke rose over parts of the island-her home-and armies of demons and giants clogged the valleys, some even spilling out into the Arghast Desert. Black ships filled the harbors, and the entrances to Dragonhold were infected with darkness. To the south, everything burned; when she soared over the landscape, nothing moved. Then she saw them: feral dragons sunning themselves along a ridgeline, looking almost serene. Catrin knew better.

Desperate need pulled her back to Dragonhold, deep into the stone. There she felt a pulse of life, and it spoke to her, "Mother! Please help!"

Every ounce of Catrin's energy became focused on finding Sinjin and helping him. Nothing mattered more than being there when he needed her most, yet she could not prevent the present from pulling her back, from making her experience the now. When Catrin's eyes opened, she had no idea how long she'd been gone, but the sun was already dipping into the water.

A sudden, pounding thought from Kyrien forced all else aside.

Prepare yourself!

What Catrin saw on the horizon shocked her to her core, something she'd never thought to see, at least not from this vantage point: a flying ship! And it was not just any ship. Like a lover come home after far too long, Catrin recognized the Slippery Eel, her normally submerged battering ram now cutting the wind. This alone was enough to rock Catrin back on her heels, but the air around the Eelwas filled with dragons, lightning, and fire. To add to her horror, the backs of the ferals bore riders who reeked of power. It was these men who cast lightning and fire at will.

Kyrien crashed into ferals, his saddle no longer on his back. He was not alone, though, and Catrin nearly shouted in triumph when she saw the other regent dragons coming to Kyrien's aid. She'd not seen another regent dragon since her flight from the Firstland many years before, but their beauty was unmistakable, even from afar. The ferals had their own fierce splendor, but the regents nearly glowed and shifted colors in the changing light.

Catrin drew a deep breath and prepared to face her destiny. Opening herself to Istra's power, she focused on becoming the sword Strom had made for her: sharp and dangerous but finely tuned to work for good. She found the sword in her hand and raised it high, issuing a battle cry from the core of her being. From the deepest part of her gut, she released all her frustration and channeled it into deadly intent. Energy crawled over her body as she waited, knowing Kyrien would guide them to her.

Soon Catrin could see the crew of the Slippery Eel,and she smiled at the thought of fighting alongside Kenward and his shipmates. Tempted to swim out to meet them, it was all Catrin could do to make herself wait.

"There!" came Kenward's shout across the water, and Catrin waved her arms. "I told you! None of you believed me, but I told you she'd be there, didn't I? Ha ha! I told you all her dragon spoke to me, and you didn't believe me! Now who's the crazy one?"

For a brief moment, Catrin grinned, knowing Kenward's crew would not hear the end of this anytime soon. Her grin vanished, though, when the ship slowed and lowered from the skies into the dark waters. Ferals dived at the ship, and only the maddened defense of the regents kept the ferals from tearing the Slippery Eelto pieces. Unable to contain her energy any longer, Catrin aimed her sword at the nearest feral and unleashed a torrent of energy that crackled with life. It struck the beast in the chest and knocked it from the sky. The seas around the Slippery Eelroiled as dragons continued to strike the surface, some dying, some fending off attacks. Only a few regained the skies and even fewer with riders still in place. Having seen her strike, the regents raised a call that stirred Catrin's blood. They recognized her!

A boat dropped from the side of the Slippery Eel, looking tiny and vulnerable in the frothing waves. Catrin feared it would capsize, but the men aboard knew their business and somehow managed to brave the dragons and the surf to make their way to shore. Catrin recognized Bryn and Farsy. The former was as red faced and freckled as ever. Farsy looked as rugged as the sea, his leathery skin hatched with lines and his graying hair pulled back into a braid. Even his tattoos were faded, but his smile shone brightly.

Racing ahead, Catrin looked for the best place for them to land, a place with more sand than rock, and they made for the same place. As they approached, a rippling wave followed them, a monstrous head rearing from the water. Bryn smacked it with an oar and was knocked backward when Catrin's attack struck the beast under the chin, snapping shut its massive jaws. Moments later a regent struck the mostly submerged feral dragon from above, and Catrin had to concentrate on getting into the boat, hoping no more ferals waited beneath the frothing waves.

The ride back to the Slippery Eelwould haunt her dreams.

Chapter 14

We can reach our full potential only if we are willing to learn, which means we must occasionally admit we are wrong.

– Master Jarvis, teacher

Kenward grinned as he grabbed Catrin by the arm, pulling her onto deck. "Welcome back to the Slippery Eel!I told you all she was here, now didn't I? None of them believed me." In a quieter voice he said, "It's a good thing you're here; I was starting to wonder if I'd gone as mad as Nat Dersinger." Kenward's wink brought back mostly fond memories, but now was not the time for reminiscing, though seeing Bryn and Farsy brought joy to her heart in spite of the darkness that surrounded them.

"How did you do it?" Catrin asked as soon as her boots hit the deck. "How did you make her fly?"

"I thought you might ask that," Kenward said, his grin not fading. "I present you with my flight master."

From the prow approached a lithe man dressed in loose-fitting silks that shimmered as he moved, giving hints and glimpses of his taut form. It was his face that shocked Catrin, for she recognized him.

"Pelivor? Is that really you? By the gods, look at you!"

Stepping forward, he lifted Catrin into an embrace. "I knew we would find each other again. I've learned so much from you, though I've had to do it from afar. Now perhaps you will teach me in person."

"Right now the two of you need to get us out of here," Kenward said, and his words were reinforced by the thrumming of the ship. The Slippery Eelhad come in perilously close to the rocks, and it would take only one strike from a feral to send them onto the jagged formations.

"Would you like the honor?" Pelivor asked. "I'd love to study your technique."

"Actually I've only done it a few times, and that was years ago. Please, show me what you've learned."

Pelivor nodded and Catrin noticed how much more confident he'd become. Not arrogant or vain, he was simply comfortable being who he was and secure in his knowledge and skills. He'd taught Catrin to speak Zjhonlander and how to read High Script, and there was no doubt he was among the most educated men she knew. Seeing him spread his arms and open himself to Istra's power made Catrin beam with pride. In that, too, he exerted calm control.

"You should have seen him the first time," Kenward said, seemingly reading her mind. "He nearly sunk us."

Pelivor turned his head and raised an eyebrow, and Kenward went silent, save a quiet chuckle.

The Slippery Eelgracefully left the water and turned on Pelivor's will, gliding just above the water's surface. Catrin watched him, wide eyed. When she'd first discovered the ability to make a ship fly, Catrin had been able to achieve little more than raising the ship up and riding the wind. What Pelivor did was much more impressive as he seemed to command the wind. Even as ferals continued to swoop and dive, he maneuvered the ship as easily as if he held the wheel but with more agility than any ship's captain could ever have hoped for. It did not seem that Pelivor had access to even a fraction of the amount of energy Catrin could pull from the air around her, yet he exerted such fine control that he did not need as much power to accomplish the task at hand. Catrin felt clumsy and inefficient after watching his precise control.

Standing beside Pelivor, she took his hand. There was no lurch, as Catrin remembered from when she'd been interrupted. Truly Pelivor had found mastery where she was inexpert and required the use of brute force. Slowly she opened her energy to him, and he turned to her, his eyes now wide. "You have so much!"

"And you need so little," Catrin said. "You amaze me."

Slowly Catrin began to see the intricacies of what he did, the way he created a latticework of energy that was equally strong yet required much less effort than Catrin's wing formations had. She considered lending him more energy, but he did not need it. Instead she concentrated on what she could do to make the ship go faster. Her efforts sent cargo shifting, and Kenward held on to the railing.

"Here we go again," Bryn said, and Kenward grinned.

Pelivor observed for a while. Then he interrupted her. "Everything you do is so. . big. Let me show you something. I can't do it for long, but I think perhaps you could. He took her to the stern, where a strange apparatus had been erected. Resting on a pedestal of iron-reinforced timber, a hollow tube of wood looked to have been carved from a single tree trunk. There was nothing else, no moving parts and no ornamentation, just a strangely shaped tube of wood with a flare in the fore opening and a smaller opening in the aft.

Catrin watched closely as Pelivor took a long breath and drew as deeply as he could. Dividing his attention had a negative impact on the amount of lift his latticework structures provided, and the ship seemed more like it was bouncing across the waves, like a flat stone skipping over still water. When he applied his will to the air in front of the flare, things changed. Air clung to air, and as he forced it through the chamber, more came of its own volition, allowing him to compound the amount of force generated.

The effort came at a price, and Pelivor soon had to stop. The Slippery Eelslowed abruptly as the hull once again found the water, and Pelivor dropped to the deck. "Do you see?"

"I do," Catrin said. "I'm sorry I did not help you. Are you well?"

"I'll be fine in a moment. For some reason, I can't seem to do two things at once. Perhaps with more practice."

"You did very well. Already I'm learning from you."

Pelivor smiled.

Kenward watched the skies. "That burst of speed gave us a bit of time, but the dragons are gaining on us."

Catrin turned to see a writhing mass of darkness rolling in and out of the clouds, some attacking and others defending. It was aerial chaos, and the thought of being on dragonback during such a battle made her stomach hurt. Perhaps that was why Kyrien had brought the ship to her instead.

Grubb, the ship's cook, brought Catrin and Pelivor some of his restorative broth, which they accepted eagerly. It was always wise to take what Grubb offered; his skills in the galley were legendary, and Catrin was not disappointed. Though little more than a light soup, the meal warmed her belly and brought clarity to her thoughts.

In a short time, the broth was gone, and Pelivor turned to Catrin. "I suppose I should get us back in the air. If you want to try working the aft, just let me know, and I'll do my best to maintain control."

Seeing Kenward and the crew looking equal parts excited and terrified, Catrin grinned. "Let's do it!" Those words sent everyone into motion. Anything loose was secured, and the crew found places where they could hold on.

"I've waited a long time to say this." Kenward raised his voice and said, "Catrin, Pelivor, let's fly!"

Pelivor exerted his will with the same level of quiet confidence, and Catrin did what she could to emulate his control. Slowly she gathered air and forced it through the narrow chamber. A low howling sound grew in volume and pitch as the stream intensified. Soon it was accompanied by another sound that matched its intensity.

"Woo hoo!" Kenward bellowed as the ship moved forward faster than anyone could have imagined. The sails exceeded the speed of the wind and slowed the ship rather than speed it along, and Kenward shouted for the crew to trim them.

"You're doing it!" Pelivor shouted, sounding triumphant. "I knew it would work!"

Catrin looked back from the stern, watching as a spray of water rolled behind them, curling in on itself, racing into the space that had held the ship only a moment before. Dragons still filled the skies behind them, but the battle was breaking up; feral and regent dragons alike retreated to the clouds. The sun sank below the horizon, clouds obscured the moon and comets, and darkness enshrouded them. Knowing it would be foolish to fly blind, Catrin eased their speed, and soon Pelivor lowered them back into the water.

"The landings are the hardest part," he said as his shoulders heaved from the effort.

Though she knew she should rest, Catrin's body throbbed with excitement and anxiety. It was a heady mixture that she knew would prevent sleep.

"The seas only know how good it is to see you, Catrin," Kenward said as he wrapped her in a warm blanket. He and Bryn guided Catrin and Pelivor into the galley, and Grubb appeared with food more substantial than the broth they had earlier. Catrin was grateful since flying ships, or even propelling them, gave her a mighty hunger, and hearty fish steaks were just what she needed. From the wonderful taste, she knew Grubb had not gone light on the herbs and seasoning.

"How did you learn to fly the ship?" Catrin asked Pelivor when he'd finished his meal. For the first time since she'd arrived, Catrin saw him flush, and he seemed slightly embarrassed.

"It took quite a bit of time and many tries, but Kenward kept explaining to me what you had done, at least to the best of his ability. Finally I started building models of the ship and I played with them in the wind." This statement seemed to embarrass him, but Catrin admired his creativity. "One day I found something that worked, and after countless failures, I found some success. Kenward, of course, wanted more, and I began practicing every day. Each time, I got a little better. And now. ." He shrugged.

"You've become a master," Catrin finished for him.

"He doesn't drop us from the sky as often as he used to," Kenward corrected. "I almost had to throw him overboard for trying to fly us into low-lying clouds. Who knows what flying through clouds would be like? We'd be blind and we might even drown!"

Pelivor flushed and would not meet Catrin's eyes.

"It's wet, true, and very difficult to see, but you can breathe just fine," Catrin said.

Kenward involuntarily spit out the wine he'd been drinking and broke into a fit of coughing. When he'd recovered, he said, "When will I ever learn not to try to match wits or questionable behavior with you, m'lady?"

Catrin shook her head. Coming from him, that was no compliment.

"Did you really fly through the clouds?" Pelivor asked.

Catrin told the tale of her and Kyrien's flight from the Godfist. It was difficult to get through without crying, but she managed-just.

"We nearly made it to the Godfist," Kenward said, "but Bryn spotted dragons-the nasty-looking black ones-and we turned back. The devils gave chase, and it took everything Pelivor had to keep us in one piece. The greenish ones like Kyrien came not a day too soon. That was when I started dreaming about you being stuck on an island."

"I'm glad you came," Catrin said.

"None of this lot believed me," Kenward said for what seemed the twelfth time, and Pelivor rolled his eyes. "So why are we going back to the Firstland?"

"What?"she said, standing up.

"Well, every time I dreamed about you being on that island-sometimes even when I was wide awake, mind you-I'd always see us sailing back to the Firstland. I figured you'd know why."

Catrin said nothing for a time, every part of her conflicted. Nothing mattered to her more than getting back to Sinjin and Prios, but she had no idea what had become of those within Dragonhold or even if the defenses had withstood the assault. If they still lived-Catrin's chest ached at that thought-her chances of getting inside were dismal. Letting their defenses down to admit her and Kyrien would open the doors for the hoard of demons, and Catrin did not want to put her loved ones in greater peril, yet staying away went against every instinct she possessed. She clenched the top rail of her chair and stared down at the table.

"Do you want to go back to the Godfist?" Kenward asked.

"Yes," Catrin said.

Kenward sucked in a deep breath. "I'm not sure we should do that."

"Then why did you ask?" Catrin snapped. "If you're just going to sail to the Firstland regardless, then don't bother asking me."

"I'm sorry, Catrin. I just wanted to know what you desired while still advising you on the dangers-"

"I know, Kenward. I'm sorry. It's just. . Sinjin. How do I abandon my son? My husband? My people?"

"I don't know," he said, her pain reflected in his eyes.

Not able to look at her companions, Catrin gripped her chair and looked down at its seat.

"I'll take you home if that is your wish, Catrin," Kenward said.

Silence hung between them for a time. Catrin made no move to respond, and Kenward started to stand up from the table.