“Her face was calm, your mother’s. When I flew away, her face and emotions were perfectly calm. I always wondered why she felt such peace as I flew away. I always wondered what she was thinking of in that moment.”
“You could feel her emotions?”
Cerralys nodded. “Dragon emotions are vast, and so are elven emotions. The bond between your mother and I had already taken place. I felt her emotions as if they were my own. In fact, it was partly her sense of calm that allowed me to survive the fight with Obsidian. Later, I came to realize that she was conscious of the gift that she was giving. She was more worried for my safety than her own, but shoved it away from her and instead bolstered me with the calm and peace that I needed to think clearly. I raced away that night, hoping to save her life. But, as always, Jenna saved mine.
“After the fight, I fought the winds for hours in my desperation to return to her, but my body had nothing left to give, and the winds finally won. They tore my wing joints out of their sockets, and I too plunged into the waters. The waves over my head were like giant mountains, crushing me beneath their depths. I thought of your mother then. I knew I was going to die, but I hoped that she might live. I hoped that she and the baby would be safe,” he whispered.
“You knew of me?”
Cerralys smiled sadly. “Yes. I knew. I knew before she did. Dragon senses are keener than elven senses. I could smell the new life growing within her.”
He looked at her in silence for a minute, and, as had been happening all night, they spoke without words. She saw his love for her, sudden and consuming. She felt it. It healed something inside of her; something that she hadn’t even realized had been diseased. It was then that she began to get the first intimations of what Nachal had been trying to say at the tiered waterfalls of El`dell. She began to understand how this being changed people’s lives, changed histories and kingdoms, changed darkness to light, simply by being the person that he was. It was no wonder that Watcher from long ago had been drawn there. It was a wonder to her that all of them weren’t drawn there.
Wolf laid his head down upon Cerralys’ lap, and the king rubbed his fur with smooth, gentle strokes. “I awoke to Drashmere towing me toward land. I ordered him to turn around and tow me back to the ship, to Jenna. We argued, but finally he relented. When we arrived at the ship, there was hardly anything left of it. It looked as if a giant hand had grabbed it up and crushed it between its mighty fingers.
“I refused to believe that she was gone. I could still feel her within me. Her heartbeat. Her love. The wreckage was everywhere, strewn over a dozen leagues of open seas. Some of it had already submerged and was buried within the sea’s depths. We searched through it all, but found no survivors. In the end, I convinced myself that the heart I felt beating was only my consuming desire that she still be alive.
“I came here, to Eldaria, and commissioned the building of The Hall. It was to be a monument to her. To the life that I had wanted so desperately with her. But after it was finished, I realized that no edifice of cold stone should memorialize the warm heart and passions of a being that had changed my life, and so many other lives, so completely. I chose not to name it after its conceived name—Jenna Hall—and instead just let it be The Hall. I had started it amidst mindless, endless grief, but by the end of its construction, I didn’t care whether it all toppled down around me or not because, somewhere in the middle, I knew with absolute certainty that she was gone and that everything would be forever changed.”
His voice, which long had been a harsh whisper, now became fierce. His eyes blazed as they swung away from the ocean and found her. “I loved your mother with everything within me. When she died, I died too. I felt as if most of me—my soul, my mind, my body—had been sheared ruthlessly from me. There will never be another who can replace her. She will always be a part of me, and I of her.” He choked on the last words, his voice becoming mangled and torn and then drifting off into silence.
Everything was quiet. The wind had long since died down to a faint whisper, and the sky was just starting to turn pink with the first flushes of the new dawn. With her head on her father’s shoulder, and her eyes locked on the distant Tide Skimmer anchored out to sea, she thought about her mother’s last two years of life. She thought about Valdys’s ships scouring the ocean and his retinue of investigators searching for word of Cerralys. She thought of her mother slowly dying inside from grief, just as her father had been. Somehow . . . somehow she knew that it was at the time of her mother’s real death that Cerralys had finally felt that she was gone. That he knew, finally and completely, that she was dead. He had been right all along. He had felt her. And just as he had felt her life, he had also felt her death.
“My mother was murdered.”
Cerralys stiffened. She could feel his eyes on her face, but it was a moment or two before she could face him. “I’m sorry,” she said sadly, finally turning. “I thought you should know. She lived another two years after the ship went down, and, in the end, she was murdered by assassins. One of her guards survived long enough to tell us before he died. Valdys believes, even still today, that the assassins were sent from his brother Krellys. But Krellys has gone deep into hiding, and, though Valdys has searched and continues to search, has thus far not been found.”
“Krellys,” the king choked. His face hardened. “I too have been unable to find him.”
Auri nodded sadly. She knew the reason that Cerralys had been searching for Krellys.
Nachal.
“I know,” she murmured. “You wanted Nachal safe.” She looked out at the ship again, dipping and cresting slightly with the relentless push and pull of the sea. “Alera hinted to me whose child he is, and he told me that you are his foster father. I knew that you must still be keeping him here so that you can protect him.”
The king settled back on his hands, his expression subdued. “I can no longer protect him. I realized that not long ago. He is a man now, old enough to fight his own battles. For all my experience and age, I had never raised a child.” He turned and smiled at her. “The theory and practice are quite different, you know. I’ve never quite gotten used to the way it consumes my thoughts—doubly so when that child is in constant danger from outside forces.” His face grew sad, his eyes dimmed. “I would have liked to have seen your childhood, Auri. I would give anything if I could somehow force time to give me back all of the years that I’ve lost with you.”
“We have the future,” she said softly.
Pain flashed through his eyes. He looked away from her, and she felt the unspoken words—do we?
“I’d like that,” he murmured just as softly. He turned back to her, desperate hope brimming in his eyes. “Are you . . . going to stay? Or perhaps you would like to return to your home in Torar-Araldyn.”
Her smile was gentle. Her choice had already been made. “I’d like to stay if you’ll have me.”
His eyes lit, becoming fierce in their fervency. “Forever.”
She smiled, putting her head down onto his shoulder again, contentedly watching as the sun finally came up over the water. “I don’t know,” she said with laughter in her voice. “Forever is really almost forever with dragons. You might get sick of me and wish to toss me out on my ear after a while.”
He laughed too, and in that moment it seemed as though the pain of the night was absent, swallowed up by the rising golden sun. “I think the reverse is far more likely,” he said with a wry smile.
They sat in contentment for a long while, perhaps another hour or so, before Auri finally said in a speculative tone, “Perhaps someone should let those on the Tide Skimmer know that they can disembark now.”
Cerralys chuckled. “We will. Eventually.”
Chapter Twenty-Five- All Good Things
Seven nights later, Auri was sitting on the highest point of the cliff—a bluff that was situated with the backdrop of The Hall behind it and a panoramic view of the sparkling Eldrian Sea below it—alone with her thoughts.
Intelligence was coming in every few days, and the reports were sickening. More towns burned. More ports cut off. More people dying. The thought of so much chaos, so much death, made her sick inside. It smoldered and smoldered inside of her, burning away at her heart, eating its way through her mind.
She knew firsthand what death looked like. What face it wore. What cries came from its lips.
She was beginning to feel it.
At first it came in flashes—a sick feeling so strong that it made her want to simultaneously drop to her knees to throw up and huddle in a tight ball until the sobs became only whimpers. Then the flashes grew longer. Then longer. Now she could feel it all the time.
Liran had caught her once, on her knees with tears streaming helplessly from her eyes. He had helped her to her feet and showed her how to distance herself from it. It was impossible to close off completely, but the distance helped. Before he had walked away, she had sensed the fear that he was trying to hide from her.
That was another thing that had come suddenly: flashes of others’ emotions. It was something that she was trying very hard to get used to.
She felt adrift sometimes. Cut off from what was happening to her. Almost as though it were happening to someone else. But then she would look around her and see the fear in the eyes of those closest to her, and suddenly she wasn’t adrift anymore. Because this was real. And this was now. And she had better learn to deal with it or it would eat her alive.
Nachal was suddenly squatting down in front of her.
“Hi,” he murmured, kissing her mouth. “Can I join you?”
She nodded, grateful to see him. He had been gone all day. Liran had been gone for several. . .
He settled in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she leaned back against his chest. “It’s peaceful tonight,” he said quietly.
“Yes.” The stars seemed close that night, bright and vibrant in the inky sky. “How’s Dhurmic?”
“Eating his way through the larder.” She could hear the smile in his voice, and she tilted her head up to see his face above her. He looked down at her, eyes sparkling. “I think he’s making up for all the meals he lost on the ship.”
“Hopefully, Cerralys can afford to feed him for a little while longer. I’ll miss him when he goes.”
“I think Cerralys can afford a lot more than keeping Dhurmic’s appetite satisfied,” Nachal said dryly. He kissed her nose. “Make sure I’m around when you tell Dhurmic that you’ll miss him.”
She frowned in confusion. “Why?”
He flashed a wicked grin. “I enjoy watching him squirm.”
She laughed, dropping her head to watch the sea again. “You two have the strangest relationship.”
They sat in silence for a while before Nachal asked in a gentle voice, “How are you feeling?”
She didn’t know how to respond to that. Confused. Scared. Alone, despite his company and the constant eyes of the others watching her. Sick from all the death and decay. Weary. Tired. She went with the last one. “I’m tired,” she said with a sigh.
His arms tightened around her for an instant before relaxing. “Why don’t you go up to bed?”
“Can’t sleep.”
She felt a brief flash of emotion from him—worry—and then he pulled her closer to him and tucked her head beneath his chin. “I’ll stay out here with you. Maybe you’ll fall asleep.”
“Won’t you get cold?”
“Not with a dragon to keep me warm,” he murmured.
She laughed, tilting her face back up to him, and was surprised when his mouth came down on hers, silencing what she had been about to say. Another flash—desire—before he lifted his head and stared down at her. “I don’t want you to say it back, because I know that you don’t feel the same way, but I wanted you to know that, whatever happens, I’ll stand by you. I love you, Auri.”
She dropped her head back down, as quiet as the night that surrounded them. The irony of it was she loved him too. Eventually, in the silence, they both drifted off to sleep.
She jerked awake, smothering the scream before it escaped her mouth. She bit down on her lips hard until she tasted blood. Tears choked her vision, spilling from her eyes. She raised a trembling hand and gently lifted Nachal’s arm off of her. Slipping out from beside him, she sat with her arms huddled around her trembling body.
She closed her eyes. Images flashed behind them. A field of blood. Swords flashing in the night. Black wings and inky scales descending. A horrible screech. Armies marching against each other. Valdys. Obsidian.
She opened her eyes and stared at Wolf who stared back at her with his sad, blue ones. It was the way he looked at her when he knew that she was in pain.
“I have to go,” she whimpered.
He rose to all fours, glancing down at Nachal before looking back up at her. His eyes held a question.
“I can’t,” she whispered, anguish etched in every syllable of her words. She stared down at Nachal’s face and kissed his mouth softly. “He can’t come with me, Wolf. If he does, he’ll die too.” The tears streamed down her face faster and she wiped them away impatiently as she tried to think of a plan. She had to get outside the gates. . .
Cerralys awoke with a harsh cry. His pulse thrummed inside his chest as he ripped the covers off of himself and ran to the door. Jerking it open, he ran across the hall to Nachal’s bedroom and ripped aside the curtain surrounding his bed.
Empty.
He ran to Auri’s bedroom and did the same.
Empty.
“Liran, Dhurmic, I need you NOW!” he bellowed.
A door opened almost immediately, followed a few seconds later by another. He was already down the hall and almost to the stairs before Liran caught up with him. “Auri is missing. Find out what happened at the gates,” he commanded.
Liran’s face went chalk pale before he nodded his head once with a sharp jerk and flew down the stairs.
Dhurmic was running behind him. He could hear him puffing hard, straining to keep up with him.
They found Nachal at the cliff.
Cerralys knelt beside him and touched Nachal’s forehead gently with the tips of his fingers. The boy was sweating profusely, yet his skin felt cold and clammy. “No,” he whispered. His eyes were wide, staring down at his son. The beat inside of him, the brush of wings against the confines of his mind, stretched and stretched until he wanted to scream.
Dhurmic finally reached him. “What’s wrong?” He looked down at Nachal and then up again, his black eyes flashing fear. “Is he ill?”
Cerralys didn’t answer him. He stood quickly. “Find someone to help you carry him to his room. Liran will join you in a minute.”
He walked quickly away; the beat, beat, beat of the wings against his mind felt like they were beating against a cage of rotted iron. He rounded the corner into the east courtyard, and Liran was suddenly at his side.
“The guards at the gate said that she told them she had an urgent message to deliver to me. A message that you sent. They tried to send an escort with her, but she lost them once she hit the trees. They’re searching for her now. Permission to join the search, sire?”
His voice was hard, but Cerralys well knew the terror raging through the elf right now. He felt it himself. “You cannot stop an army single-handedly, Liran. Not even you are that good.”
“You know where she is?” Liran growled. “Tell me. I may not be able to stop an army, but I might be able to get her out alive!”
Cerralys stopped walking abruptly and looked at him. He saw the love that the Watcher felt for his daughter. The love that he tried so hard to keep hidden. The beat of the wings against the confines of his shell, against the confines of his mind, grew more burdensome. “You already know where she is, Liran, if you stop to see her.”
He watched Liran close his eyes, searching for her with his graces. A moment later, the pallor of his skin went stark white, and when he opened his eyes they were like twin beams of pain and
terror. “She’s almost there,” he whispered as though tortured. He whipped around suddenly, heading for the gates, but Cerralys reached out and gripped his arm tightly, stopping him.
“I need you here,” he said harshly. “You won’t be able to reach her in time. Nachal needs an elf’s skill of healing, and my daughter needs a dragon. She needs me.”
Liran’s head turned slowly, ever so slowly, to stare at him. Their eyes locked. Held. Then he nodded. “What do you need me to do?” he asked quietly.
“First, I need you to telepathically contact the Luminari. Tell them what’s happening.” Cerralys brought a picture of the plains into his mind and said, “There’s a place in my mind. Memorize it and give it to them. Tell them to meet me there if they can get there in time, but to be cautious. I’m most likely flying into a trap. Next, I need you to go to Nachal’s room, and tell Dhurmic to rouse the entire garrison, high alert status. And then—ˮ His voice broke. He swallowed. “And then I need you to try to keep my son alive until I return.”
Nachal’s eyes opened to walls of fire.
It wasn’t until he looked down at the feet flying over the earth that fear crackled like lightning up his body.
Auri’s feet. Auri’s heart that beat inside of his chest. Auri’s terror that was clawing its way into his heart and mind. Auri’s eyes that he was seeing everything out of. Auri’s lungs that choked and burned. Auri’s pain . . . but his as well. It had swelled, splitting into two and then merging again as one. His pain had joined hers. He was sharing her body through a dream. The dream. The dream that had started this all.
This time he knew it was different, knew that it was real. There was no mistaking the smoke that saturated the air, choking them, no mistaking the sounds of men dying, of shouting, of chaos, and there was no mistaking her fear. She was choking on it, nearly paralyzed with it. And yet her feet kept moving forward. They flew forward over the scorched earth, running faster than anyone he had ever seen. Wolf was running with her, struggling to keep up.
Walls of flame were everywhere. Trees and brush were blackened, eaten alive by iridescent, glowing fire. Soon, it became an inferno, consuming everything in its path. She dashed around a boulder, dodging a falling tree. Another wall of fire, this one much higher and hotter, blocked her path. She shrieked as the whole wall seemed to crumble and it toppled towards her. She and Wolf jumped, trying to get out of the way, but she couldn’t move fast enough. It tumbled around her, blocking her in. She looked at Wolf through the flames and then turned to watch the circle close in on her with a racing heart. Fear sizzled through her veins.