~~~~~
Two nights later, as Niall unfastened his leather vest, he heard panicked screams followed by a dragon’s shriek of a roar. White smoke floated along the corridor ceiling. Niall grabbed his scythe from its holding place and ran out toward the palace pathways.
As he grew closer to the wailing source, a blue dragon hovered over the tier farther along the way and exhaled furious blue and white fire. Blue smoke mingled with the thickening multi-colored haze. The columns caught in the inferno collapsed into a melted mass. Niall saw the tier crumble onto the floor below, where courtiers scrambled away in a raucous frenzy. He ran towards Dorim’s rooms, barely escaping the tumbling mass of stone and steel.
Niall spotted Pontris and shouted out to him. Blood matted Pontris’s hair to his forehead. Not far behind, Kye helped Dorim struggle towards Niall. Dorim’s leg dangled lifelessly from below the knee. There was a gash in his cloth trousers, and red trickled freely behind him on the floor.
“What happened?” Niall hugged Pontris, clasped hands with Kye, and frowned at Dorim’s wound.
“The Monarch was coming from a feast on the lower levels when his dragon grabbed the reigns and yanked him from his seat.” Pontris choked on a stifled sob. “The dragon swallowed him whole as he fell.”
“And then burned my chambers to cinders,” Dorim wheezed out a chuckle. “Ceiling was on my leg before I knew day from night.”
“We need to find Var.”
Pontris shook his head. “Dorim needs a healer, and then we need to find the Controller and ask why she lost her power over the dragons.”
“Likely she didn’t,” Kye said. “And don’t give me that look, Pon. You know she’s been at everyone’s throats.” Kye turned to Niall. “The Controller hasn’t agreed with the Monarch’s policies of late.”
“She’s allowed that privilege, being what she is.”
“Half-dragon or not, threats are threats.”
“Enough!” Dorim hissed when he tried to put weight on his leg. “Where’s Var?”
Niall frowned. Var left on the new moon and never returned. Was this a coincidence? “We need to get a message to Torant. Come on.”
They worked their way through the damaged palace down to the Healer’s Court which rested in the hillside itself, fortified beyond the lowest section of the city’s three walls. Along the way the brothers picked up courtiers, servants, even some slaves, leading them to the Citadel within the Court. Niall prayed Var would be there. Alive.
Through the rest of the night they forged their way through the rubble and out of the palace. As the sun peeked over the mountains, Niall and his brothers walked up the stone street that lead to the Healer’s Court. Bleached stones lined their way, while behind them in the distance dragons of all sizes and colors flew through the city breathing ruin into the morning sky.
Before long, smoke hung over the palace like a burial shroud. Midnight blue flames licked the sides. White, blue, gray, and red fire devoured bits of stone as if it were wood, melting it until a ceiling or floor or wall collapsed.
“We have to do something,” Kye said. Pontris helped Dorim up the hill; Kye walked ahead with Niall. “The guards are few and mostly fresh.”
“They won’t know how to kill a dragon.”
“Do we?” Kye looked at Niall, who sighed. “That’s what I thought.”
“The healers might know something.”
“Doubtful. Only magic can undo itself, remember?”
Niall grunted and walked ahead.
Not long afterward, they reached the Healer’s Court. The citadel had no doors, and the cavern mouth was large enough to allow the grand multi-level carriage house the Monarch was so fond of to pass through, perhaps more. Fortunately, a dragon wasn’t able to fit.
The ceiling of the cave-like building was smooth and bleached like the stones lining the pathway. Two main walkways, also bleached, wrapped around various trees and pools like vines up wall. Symbols carved into the cave’s ceiling glowed with the sun’s radiance, and Niall felt as though he had stepped into a mythical glade and not into a hillside belly. The air was pregnant with that electric spark of magic. Never before had Niall felt so alive.
A woman dressed in a leather vest and breeches walked up to them. A curved sword hung from her belt. She wasn’t at all what Niall expected a healer to look like.
Seeing Dorim’s injuries, she took his other shoulder. “Take him to that pool.” She motioned to a small circle of water just outside of the path. “He’ll need to remove his trousers.”
“Gladly.” Dorim winked at her, and she rolled her eyes.
“I wouldn’t be, sir. Before long these pools will be filled with people.” She glanced at the wave of men and women stumbling into the citadel.
“Do you know anything about the dragons?” Niall asked.
The woman shook her head. “But the Lore Mother might.”
Niall had heard of Lore Mothers. They knew all magic spells related to healing. Rumors among the soldiers said a Mother held all the knowledge of magic in the world, but Niall didn’t know the truth of this.
“You’ll find the Mother at the top of the citadel.” The woman pointed at the graceful, curving steps at the end of the cave. They emptied into darkness.
Niall gave a small bow. “My thanks. Pon, stay with Dorim.”
Pontris groaned. “I want to learn dragon secrets.”
“You’re twenty-one. Act like it,” Kye said. He thumped Pontris on the shoulder.
Niall found this ironic, as Kye was only two years older than Pontris, but said nothing. The two brothers made their way to the winding stairs. Oddly, the rail was warm to the touch and left a tingling sensation in Niall’s hand. Was that magic or something else?
A little unnerved, Niall crossed through the dark threshold and into a small antechamber. The walls were as smooth as the ones outside. Row after row of stone was carved from the rock, and countless books rested on them. Most were so covered in dust that Niall wasn’t able to read the titles on the leather spines. In a corner to the side was a desk. On the other side, a woman folded a wool blanket over her bed. As Niall imagined, the woman’s hair was silver, her face sagging and wrinkled. Still, her honest smile gave her a youthful exuberance, and Niall realized he had never smiled like that. At least not in a long time.
“You are Arth’s sons, am I right?” Niall guessed he looked shocked, since she laughed. “I knew your father once. During a battle, he smashed his knee into splinters. Stayed with us for quite a long time.” She had a distant expression. “So long ago.”
“You’ve heard about the dragons?” Niall said.
She nodded. “You want to know if I can help?” When Niall nodded, she shook her head. “The Controller knows the secrets to dragon magic, and she guards it well. Shival is a good woman, but stubborn. What trouble she’s gotten us into.”
Kye scoffed. “How do you know she isn’t causing it?”
“I suppose I don’t.”
Niall sighed. It was a long, weighted thing. “Do you have a Calling Step?”
The Mother pointed to a small, circular pedestal next to her desk. Symbols were etched in circles that grew smaller until they reached a central point, like tree rings. They bore the history of the citadel and the Mothers that continued to carve the symbols into the stone, expanding when necessary. By its size, it wasn’t very old. Niall once used a Calling Step that could hold fifteen men on it at once.
He stepped onto the stones and summoned a mental image of General Torant. As Niall whispered the name over and over, he was transported across the desert valley, across the Samaranthine, through the endless plains towards a large camp. At least fifty-thousand men sat around fires or prepared for the long hike the morning promised.
At last, Niall’s body stopped next to a tall beast of a man. General Torant already wore his massive plate armor, about to shove his helm over his leather cap when Niall’s form manifested in a flash of white. Torant seemed unshaken by this, but
Niall never knew the General to tremble or fear.
“Well, this isn’t an unpleasant surprise.” Torant made to clasp Niall on the shoulder but didn’t touch the translucent image of Niall’s body. “What news of home?”
“You haven’t heard?”
Niall explained the dragons, detailed the conversation he’d shared with the Monarch, the Controller’s disappearance, and her avid disapproval of the Monarch’s decisions.
Torant paced as Niall finished. “Damn that half-dragon.”
“General?”
“I sent the five of you home on a mission, but I gather you didn’t know that. Var must have decided not to let you know until more information was gathered, the careful man that he is. You’ve not heard from him?” Niall shook his head, and Torant went back to pacing. “Then you must know what he did and take up his mission, should he be,” Torant glanced at Niall, “unable to complete it.”
“Kye was right to mistrust the half-dragon. The Monarch called to me on the new moons and whispered his concerns. Shival was starting to realize her goals no longer aligned with the Monarch’s, and she knew she had the power to change that. He bade me return home with our army and didn’t contact again.”
“We were already home when this happened,” Niall said.
Torant nodded. “Allies of the Monarch questioned Shival sooner than he did, and came to me about it. Var knew. He was privy to these calls. In order to keep suspicions low, he asked that he lead you and your brothers on a mission to find out Shival’s intentions.”
“Since he hasn’t been seen since the new moons, we can assume her intentions weren’t honest.”
“When was she last seen?”
“Yesterday morning, according to Kye. He said he happened by her in the corridor. She seemed in a hurry and didn’t acknowledge him.”
“I’m almost to the Samaranthine. By tomorrow evening, we should be crossing at the Great Bridge. Track her, if you can, and see if she knows what happened to Var. Bring her to me alive. We have mages who must know a way to transfer her power to another or force her to calm the beasts. Monarch smile on you in death.” Torant slid his helm over his head. The two horns made him look like a beast come to life to slay his kingdom’s enemies. It was inspiring.