Drashmere could smell it? Auri blinked rapidly as sea-spray splashed her eyes and stung them. She buried her face against the dragon’s neck and closed her eyes. The seas were getting rougher; the waves higher. She tried to look upward to the skies, but couldn’t see through the mists. Perhaps a storm was coming. . .
Thou hast left another back on thy ship who cares for thee as well.
She sighed against Drashmere’s slightly warmer body, feeling the warmth of his scales wash over her. She kept her face tucked into the side of his neck as she answered. “Nachal. His name is Nachal. I know nothing else about him aside from the fact that he stole onto the ship, and hid in the cargo hold for nearly a se’nnight.”
Wouldst thou like me to tell thee about him?
“Didn’t you just meet him as well?”
I know him, now that I have met him.
She thought about that statement, and how it must mean something different for Drashmere than it did for her. “Do you mean that you know everything there is to know about him now?”
I touched his skin, and coiled warmth within his heart. I know him.
She sat in stunned amazement. He knew all about a person as soon as he touched them? “Is that normal for dragons?” she asked.
I am not a normal dragon, and my history is a lengthy one that I will share with thee at another time if thou wishes it. For now, know that I have been blessed by elven-kind. That, coupled with my natural abilities as a dragon, enables me to know in this manner.
Auri nodded against the warm, smooth wetness of his scales. She cracked one eye open and glanced at Wolf. He was struggling more in the rougher waters, but still keeping up with them. “Tell me,” she said.
I will tell thee what I feel are the pertinent parts, blessed one. If thou hast questions, couldst thou please hold them until the end?
“Agreed.”
His heritage is unknown to me, because it is unknown to him. He has been raised a prince, adopted as a fosterling by the great Dragon King Cerralys.
Auri’s mind buzzed at that title, but she held her tongue.
Drashmere chuckled. Thou hast control. That is good. Then he continued. Nachal has been raised by dragon-kind, for the Dragon-King Cerralys is also the head of the council of the Luminari, or, in the common tongue, the Dragons of Light. Because of this, he is a being from two different worlds: the human world and the dragon world. He finds it hard to fit in with either, being neither completely one nor the other. Do not misunderstand me, he is fully human. But because he was raised among dragon-kind, he has a duality of nature that creates friction and uncertainty in his life.
The rumbling voice inside of her mind went silent and she thought about the information that she had just been given. Nachal was a human prince, raised among dragons: two separate worlds. Her heart squeezed in sympathy. She understood what that felt like.
Except for him it was probably the opposite. He would, because of his lack of a dragon’s natural abilities, feel the need to prove himself and fight harder to fit in amongst the dragons that surrounded him, while she had been content to hide herself away, neither caring nor believing that she would ever fit in amongst the humans of Ardalan’s courts.
“Is he a good man?”
Yes . . . but he is young, both in body and in mind.
“I am young.”
Thou hast other abilities that give thee a natural wisdom and grace that he lacks.
“What does it matter that he is young? What does that have to do with being good?”
It has nothing so much to do with being good as it has to do with his reactions and the depth of his thoughts and emotions. I am just cautioning thee.
She thought about that for a while. “Can you tell me why he cares about me? Even with all that you’ve explained, it still seems so hard for me to understand. I’ve just met him.”
Drashmere was quiet for a long time. When he started speaking again, the rumbling voice that echoed within her mind was subdued with pain.
For some time he has dreamt of thee. I am unsure why this is. The dragons have the Gift of Dreams, given to them by the elven queen, Queen Alera. But as a human, Nachal shouldst not have this. Through these dreams, he has come to know thee and come to love thee.
“He dreams of me? I don’t understand. What sort of dreams?”
His dreams are of battle and bloodshed, and much loss.
Her heart seized. Loss? She felt a thrumming vibrate through Drashmere’s skin again as he tried to offer her silent solace. She took it, curling further into the protective cove of his body, closing her eyes tighter against the wind and waves that heaved around her.
“I am in the battle?” she asked in a small voice.
Yes.
“Do I survive?”
That is . . . unclear.
Unclear. Her survival was unclear. Her body started to tremble as she clung tightly to Drashmere. Hot liquid poured from her eyes. She wasn’t afraid of dying, but the timing seemed so unfair. Not now, when so much had come into her life that she wished to live for.
Drashmere stopped swimming and craned his neck so that he was looking at her. He cradled his cheek against hers and hummed his lullaby deep within the mountainous caverns of his chest.
That moment was one that she would remember forever. Stopped in the middle of the Eldrian Ocean on the back of a sea dragon, her cheek pressed against his, hot pain and anguish burning inside of her still-aching chest, the wind and waves tossing and crashing against them as she listened absently to the sound of his bass, throaty hum, and then feeling the warmth again as it began to fill the cold cavity of her heart with peace.
“Drashmere,” Auri whispered.
The humming stopped; the opaque eyes opened. Yes?
“Thank you for coming to get me. For everything.”
He sighed deeply, and rubbed his warm snout against her cheek. Shall we continue toward El`ness Nahrral? Thy wolf feels exceedingly bedraggled and weary.
Auri nodded, looking over at Wolf trying to tread water in the turbulent waters beside them. “Do you mind if Wolf climbs up? Will he hurt you with his claws?”
I do not mind. He will not harm me with his small claws; my hide is very thick and my scales are strong.
She called to the wolf across the wind and the waves. “Wolf, climb up on Drashmere.”
After a moment, Drashmere chuckled. He is indignant. I believe his feelings are very far advanced for one of his kind.
Auri glared at the animal in frustration. He would drown himself, it seemed, before he climbed up behind her to safety. Was everyone she met from here on out going to be so stubborn?
Dost thou want my help?
“Please,” Auri replied softly. She held on tight as Drashmere stretched out his long neck and plucked Wolf from the seas, putting him carefully down behind her. Wolf growled low in his throat, shaking the water droplets from his fur and showering her with them.
“Hush,” Auri said, as he curled his still drenched body up beside her. “It’s better than drowning.”
Chapter Sixteen- Vi`dal
The waves grew calmer the farther they swam, until they were almost completely still, like blue-grey glass. Then, suddenly, Drashmere stopped. Auri uncurled herself from around his neck and opened her eyes, only to have her breath whoosh out of her in surprise.
I can take thee no farther. I must resume my watch. He nodded toward the isle with his long snout. They will escort thee to the Elder City, El`dell.
“Who . . . are they?” she asked in awe.
The Vi`dal.
She stared in open mouthed astonishment. At least fifty elves stood on the beach awaiting them. They stood in a straight line, arms stiff at their sides, faces fierce yet beautiful. Every single pair of eyes was locked on her. As she watched, they all brought their hands to their hearts in synchronous movement, clenched their fists over their chests, and dropped their heads, looking down at the glittering bronze sand beneath their bare feet.
“Wh
at are they doing?” she whispered.
Drashmere chuckled in answer. She didn’t take that as a particularly good sign.
They have calmed the waters for thee, blessed one. Swim ashore to thy home. I will see thee again very soon.
He twisted his neck and nuzzled her face gently with his warm snout. She clutched him to her tightly for a minute, and then released him with a sigh. “Why do I get the feeling that you know more than you are willing to tell me?” she asked quietly as she climbed down and slid into the cold waters.
Because thou art intelligent and astute.
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she said with a smile.
Drashmere laughed. It got me a smile. Go. I will see thee soon.
She flattened out her body over the water, and brought her arms down to slice through. After a few strokes, she stopped and looked back. Drashmere was still there, watching her with a gentle look on his face, his sightless eyes pinned exactly to her position. She floated casually in the shifting currents of the cold water as she watched him. Then she gave a little sigh and turned around, making once again for the shore. When her feet could touch down, she stood and walked slowly forward, uncertain of what she was walking into. Wolf was already ahead of her, shaking a mass of droplets from his fur. When he was done, she dropped her hand down to rest on his neck, and they waited.
A figure separated itself from the others and came to stand before her. He had long, chestnut-brown hair, twilight colored eyes, and pale, golden skin. His face was angular with sharp cheekbones and slightly tipped ears. He bowed his head slightly. When he spoke, her muscles froze in surprise.
“I am Falvír. I will escort you and your wolf companion to the queen.” His voice was melodic. Not feminine, just melodic. Like notes plucked from an instrument with strings, his voice went up and down the note scale with precision, causing an odd feeling to blossom inside of her, all the way from the tips of her toes up to the crown of her head. Even after he was done speaking, the clear notes continued ringing inside of her head and chest. Why didn’t her voice sound like that?
“I have other companions on their way in a vessel. A human, a dwarf, and another elf.”
Falvír looked surprised, she didn’t know by which, but he kept his mouth closed and gazed once out toward the open sea before turning back to her. His eyes were filled with curiosity, but normal otherwise. They didn’t shine with light as Liran’s did.
“I will leave some of my men here to await your other companions. If I may ask, what is the name of the elf that travels with you?”
Auri watched his face closely as she said the name. “Liran.”
Falvír’s eyes widened in shock, before he quickly composed himself. “I’ll leave fewer men then,” he said, his voice grinding out the lower notes of the music scale. Auri winced at the discord.
“I’m sorry,” she said hesitantly. “But why would you now leave fewer men?”
Falvír looked at her strangely. “Do you not know with whom you travel?” At her surprised look, his eyes dropped, and he murmured an apology. “I am sorry, my lady. I have been out of company for far too long. It has loosened my manners.”
Auri laughed. “Something we have in common then,” she said. Wolf bumped her leg in disagreement, and Falvír’s hand shot out to prevent her from falling. He instantly pulled it back, staring at her arm—the place where his skin had touched hers—as if it were suddenly going to cause him to combust into flames.
He swallowed and turned to look her in the eyes. That was an odd reaction. What? Was something wrong with her? She voiced the thought aloud. “Something wrong?”
“No,” Falvír whispered. “I was just . . . surprised. Your lifetouch is like what touching lightning must feel like, the strongest I’ve ever felt before.”
Auri blinked. “My . . . what?”
Falvír smiled slightly as he backed away a pace. He seemed to do this grudgingly. As if he was following the orders of the soldier half of him instead of the elven half. The elven half still looked slightly awed and . . . hungry. Auri shifted uncomfortably. She shouldn’t have left Liran. She had no idea what anything was or what anything meant. It was like they were speaking a different language.
“Your lifetouch.”
“That word doesn’t mean anything to me,” she explained. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
A swift shadow of surprise flitted through his eyes before he mastered it. “A lifetouch is the force that an elf has on nature. All elves have it to some degree.”
“How do you touch nature? What does that mean?”
His lips slightly pursed in thought. “The sea. My men and I were able to calm it for you once we felt your presence and once Drashmere alerted us that he was carrying an elf to our shores. But it took all of us just for this little section of water.”
Auri tried not to smile. His ‘little section’ amounted to several dozen kilometers of sea. The urge to smile left her completely at his next words.
“With your power, it is my guess that you would have been able to do it without any other help, and probably expanded it to include most of the waters.”
She sucked in a surprised breath—a gasp really—and stared at him in astonishment. It was his turn to look uncomfortable. “Did the commander speak to you about any of this?” He swept his arm back toward the thick, massive forest behind him. She followed the sweep of his arm and noticed the other elves behind him were still staring down at the bronze sand with their hands fisted over the skin of their heart.
“About any—ˮ Her eyes flicked to the other elves again then back to Falvír. She leaned closer to him. “Could you please ask them to relax?” she whispered in frustration. Was this the common greeting for all elves?
Falvír smiled slightly, twisted his neck around, and gave a sharp, barking order in a tongue that she didn’t understand. The elves immediately relaxed with their arms held loosely at their sides, and their gazes out toward the sea, respectfully away from her and Falvír. She sighed in relief and looked back at the commander. “About any of what, Commander?”
His twilight eyes tensed. “I do not hold that title, my lady. The elf that you travel with does.”
Liran? Commander? She tried to remember if he had told her that, but could only remember him saying that he was a member of the Vi`dal, not its commander. “How does a military function without its commanding officer?” she asked in surprise.
“I have been called as temporary leader of the Vi`dal until his return. Is he . . . returning?”
Auri stared at him. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. He nodded.
“Would you like to wait for them before we move inward?”
She turned, searching the horizon for ships. There weren’t any. Drashmere was gone as well. “I think we should proceed. They will catch up with us when they can.”
He nodded, a precise slice of motion, bowed his head, and turned toward the Vi`dal with another quick command. “Elriya oralthay.”
The elves nodded sharply, and moved to surround her until she was completely encased in the middle of them. Her chest felt like it was trying to seize her throat. She cleared it. “Is this really necessary?”
Another quick command and forty or so elves retreated behind her in a perfectly straight line. About ten still surrounded her, blossoming outward to form a looser semi-circle. She breathed again. Better. But still. . . She surreptitiously eyed them, briefly considering leaving them all behind and going by herself to El`dell.
“I would prefer if you remained with us, my lady. Leaving would only necessitate the need for us to track you, leaving you open for possible attack.”
Her face settled into disgruntlement, and Falvír’s mouth twitched suspiciously. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he looked away from her in polite, restrained amusement. Then his body stiffened, forming hard lines and angles as he stared outward to the Sea of Mists.
“The commander comes,” he said softly, his melodic voice subdued wit
h a strange tension.
Auri turned quickly; Wolf turned with her. Together they watched the Tide Skimmer slow as the sails were tacked. The anchor was dropped and it stopped altogether, floating gently on the softly turning waves.
From across the distance she could feel his gaze cutting into her, searching and probing her for pain or discomfort. Falvír looked out of the corner of his eye toward her in mute surprise then backed gently away another pace. Auri sighed. Was it possible for her to understand any of the things that were going on? Questions bubbled like lava in her mind, waiting for the right person to spew out in a cascade of molten magma.
A figure dove into the sea so gracefully that she drew in a surprised breath. His body cut through the liquid as it dripped in arcs, pin-wheeling around his arms as they continued their powerful, fluid movements. The shore where she stood had gone silent. Even Wolf’s breath had quieted. They waited. Her stomach clenched.
A smaller vessel dropped down beside the larger, released from its holding ropes. Two figures got in: Nachal and the dwarf. Her eyes flicked from them back to the elf tirelessly slicing closer toward her with every second that passed. Her heart thudded.
“Now might be a good time to go,” she whispered in a choked voice.
Falvír stiffened and turned to look at her with a shocked eyebrow raised. She flashed him a pained grimace before turning back toward Liran, who was now walking in the shallows with a grace that should have been illegal. His eyes were brightly lit, glowing clearly from across the distance between them. They were pinned to her face. The breath slowly hissed out of her lungs. He didn’t look furious, as she might have expected, he looked . . . relieved. His clothes dripped onto the sand, the droplets sparkling in the sun like miniature prisms. His slightly golden skin was pale. His movements were very precise.
She watched all this and swallowed. “Can I tell you something?” she whispered to Falvír as Liran cleared the shallows and now walked through water that was only a few inches deep.
Liran’s eyes shot toward Falvír in a sharp, cutting gesture. She could hear Falvír swallow audibly. “Maybe you shouldn’t, my lady,” he replied in a voice just as low. Not that it hid anything from the elf who was nearly upon them. The elf who was probably sifting—even though he had told her he couldn’t anymore—through her mind. Searching. Analyzing.