Faith Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 2) (17 page)

“Why should I believe you? What proof do you have?”

The small, greedy-looking one scowled. “Aren’t we proof enough, Chosen? A Druid hasn’t been out of the Obelisk in years.”

The leader released his “prayer” and held one hand in the air, demanding silence. His dark eyes turned to Ren. “Forgive Avalon. He is too defensive of our line.” He paused. “We have no proof to give. The proof is inside you.”

Galvin shifted with impatient energy. His silver teardrop danced with fury. The three Druids didn’t even bat an eye in his direction.

Neki raised an eyebrow. “If you have the One why didn’t he come with you?”

Avalon was about to say something but decided against it. The leader’s eyes flickered to Neki and studied him in silence. He glanced at Neki’s sword, eyes betraying slight emotion, but when he looked back at Ren the Druid once again wore a calm mask.

“The One is the One, meaning he’s the only one. If he were killed where would that leave the Chosen? The One is safe in the Obelisk. He needs you to come to him. That’s the only way.”

Although what the leader said made sense, Ren’s gut told him something was amiss. He had learned to trust his instincts long ago. But it would be next to impossible for the Druids to know about the One unless he was actually there.

“What will the One do?”

The animosity in Galvin’s voice surprised Ren. He turned to look at his friend. Galvin stood as if the forces of the Abyss were trying to claim him.

The leader’s gaze lingered on Galvin. “Insist the Chosen go behind the door.”

“Morrus!” Avalon exclaimed.

Morrus held up his hand for silence. “I won’t lie to him, Avalon. What he has to do is for the Lands. I have faith the Chosen knows this and will come in spite of what this could mean to him as an individual.”

Ren looked between Avalon and Morrus. Go behind the door? He was the Chosen. If he went behind the door it would solve nothing. He would be unable to recall friends, relatives or entire years of his life. He may be unable to remember his own name. He had to destroy the darkness. How could he destroy the darkness without the Quy’s power?

Then he heard Fate’s voice echoing in his mind.

“You must destroy your soul.”

And with a surety he couldn’t describe, he knew.

Fate had ordered him to go behind the door.

The haunted eyes of the portrait in the Oracle seemed to loom in the air, staring into his heart. Those were the eyes he would have, eyes of a man without memories.

Neki stepped forward, brandishing his sword with frightful enthusiasm. “The Maker curse it, do you think we’ve lost our minds! If Ren goes behind the door he’ll be unable to defeat what he needs to defeat. All three of you are mad! Burning cinders, Ren, tell them no!”

The leader’s eyes remained on Ren throughout Neki’s remonstration. “It’s either go behind the door or become Barracus.”

Ren thought of the other portrait, the one with half of Barracus’ body as his own. He hesitated, confused as to how the portrait could become reality. His breath caught – the Red Eye.

Morrus stepped forward. “The Red Eye can pass spirits through to this realm. Spirits who had the Quy in life need a vessel with the Quy in order to use their power. The vessel in which they pass determines the strength of their power. If the vessel is weaker than the spirit the spirit will be hindered, unable to use its power to the fullest. If the vessel is stronger the spirit can thrive. The darkness the Chosen has to defeat is a force only he can bring. The only way to stop the darkness, the threat of Barracus entering his body, is to go behind the door. If Barracus enters through another he’ll be defeated. If he enters the Chosen the threat will be too great to be crushed.”

Ren remembered his dream: the darkness forcing him out, the fingers squeezing his soul and the terror as his skin bubbled into a horrible monstrosity.

When Galvin read the truth in Ren’s eyes he gripped Ren’s arm so tightly Ren thought his bone might shatter. “Ren, you must not. I don’t care what the Oracle told you. This isn’t the way.”

“It is, Galvin. I’ve been having dreams of becoming Barracus.”

Galvin’s eyes filled with desperation, but before he could speak the Druid leader stepped closer.

“You don’t want to become the darkness.”

The dream flashed through Ren’s mind again: the terror, the bubbling flesh, and the grip of fingers on his soul. No, he didn’t want to become the darkness.

“I won’t remember my life, will I?”

“I’m sorry, you may not. You may remain somewhat whole, but you will lose some of your memories. There’s no way to be sure until the door is shut.”

Ren saw the Druid’s lie. Morrus was trying to spare him. Most remembered very little of their past. The implications suddenly crashed down on him. He may not even remember Aidan.

“Ren,” Neki said, an edge to his voice. “Let them go. We can discuss this in private.”

Morrus shook his head. “There’s no time.”

Galvin’s hand tightened on the broadsword. “We demand the time!”

Before any of them could blink the broadsword was in the Druid leader’s outstretched hand. The force of its impact caused Morrus’ tuft of black hair to sway in the moonlight.

Morrus’ dark eyes pierced Ren’s own. The forest was bathed in a sheet of silence.

Although the leader displayed no aggression there was a violent conviction in his eyes. He would take Ren by force if necessary.

“Violence is unnecessary. I choose to go freely.”

Neki shook his head. “Ren!”

“Trust me,” Ren said, “this is the only way.”

Galvin turned from him. Ren wanted to say something but there was nothing to say, no words of comfort to be given. In a way he was agreeing to his own death. He couldn’t blame Galvin for being angry.

Ren turned back to Morrus. “But I go on one condition.”

The leader tilted his head, causing his thin length of ebony hair to shift to one side. “What’s that?”

“I speak to the One before you attempt my closing. I have something I must request of him.”

The power of Ren’s tone caused the leader to blink in surprise. “I can’t assure you the One will grant your request, but you’ll see the One before the closing.”

For some reason Ren found himself inherently trusting Morrus. “Thank you.”

“We leave now,” Morrus said, beginning to turn.

“We go where he goes,” Galvin said, jaw clenching in determination.

Avalon turned. “No, you cannot.”

When Galvin faced Avalon, his look was death. “Try to stop me.”

Morrus stepped between them. He handed the broadsword to Galvin and put his hands back into the unanswered prayer pose. Ren noticed he put them closer this time. He wondered if closing his door was Morrus’ current prayer.

“I regret you cannot,” Morrus said, his tone kind, even apologetic. “Our horses have been blessed by the One and can ride much faster than your own. Your horses will never be able to keep the pace. They can try, but they will fail.”

The three Druids turned and walked back the way they had come, expecting Ren to follow. The kota whined beside him. Ren reached over and scratched the tender place under her horn. She leaned her head against him and began to purr. He felt a stab of sorrow. She would try to follow. It would pain her a great deal when she was unable to keep up. He wondered if he would ever see her again, or remember her.

“Stay with Galvin, Keena,” he whispered. The kota breathed a sigh as if she understood but pressed against him with more force. Ren turned and looked into the faces of his friends. Galvin’s eyes were sunken and there was a look of lunacy about him. Ren almost asked why he was so anxious but then decided against it. If he knew Galvin’s reason it might shatter his own resolve.

“It’s the only way, Galvin. Believe me. It’s the only choice I have.”

Neki shifted, looking uncomfortable. “Burning cinders, Ren. Did the Oracle tell you to do this?”

Ren glanced to where the Druids had gone. “In a way.”

“In a way!” Neki said. “Ren, please reconsider. This is foolhardy at best.”

The third Druid came through the trees, leading Ren’s mount. “It’s time.”

Ren nodded and bent to grab his pack. When he had tied it to his new mount’s saddle he absently patted the mare’s neck, whispering greetings, and mounted with a heavy heart.

“We’ll follow when we can and wait for you at Port Vy,” Neki said, indicating the port city close to the island of Dresden.

Ren nodded, unable to look at his friends. He may not remember them after the closing. He knew he should say something but couldn’t find the words.

Then Galvin was beside him, clasping his hand. Ren felt something cold slip into his palm. Before Ren could see what it was, Galvin shook his head. It was a slight movement, but it was enough. Ren nodded, keeping his fist closed. For some reason Galvin didn’t want the Druids to discover his gift. The Druid stopped his horse and turned to watch.

Galvin’s dark brown eyes peered into Ren’s with unmistakable desperation. “Believe in yourself. Remember this,” Galvin said, eyes flickering to Ren’s closed fist.

“May the Fates be with you, Galvin,” Ren said. “If I’m able to retain some of my memories I pray to the Maker you’re among them.”

“Please, don’t stop.” Chris hugged the dark haired woman tighter. They had been riding all day and she had been giving him feelings he both longed for and abhorred, but it hurt to be without them. She shifted in the saddle and leaned back. Her dark eyes drew him closer.

“Kiss me.”

He hesitated, wanting to resist, but when her eyes heated he remembered the pain and leaned into her. Her lips were soft, sensual. Confusion seeped inside him. Why hadn’t he wanted to kiss her? The question quickly dissipated as she sent him a tingling pleasure. His body shook with need, but she only allowed the pleasure to pulse within him, keeping it high enough for him to tremble but low enough for him to be coherent. It was maddening.

“Do you remember what you must do?”

He let her question hang in the air. He had already said yes multiple times but tried to rationalize answering anyway. He felt a doubt form within him and was about to dispute her question when a sharp stabbing pain ripped through him. Why shouldn’t he answer? He didn’t want to die. There was still something he must do.

“I remember,” he slurred as a wave of pleasure engulfed him. When the feelings subsided into a small pulse he opened his eyes and squinted into the sun.

“Who are you, my love?”

“Whoever you want me to be.”

She laughed and reached back to stroke his cheek. He shivered, unsure if her touch was something he enjoyed.

“I’ll give you more intense emotions for the rest of your days if you say your name is Chris Kahn.”

He couldn’t imagine emotions more intense than those she had already given him. He didn’t know if he wanted anything more intense. But if he didn’t agree the pain would come. He knew if the pain came it would be too much. He could be Chris Kahn, the name did sound familiar.

“I’m Chris Kahn.”

She chuckled and turned away. Chris looked to the horizon. They were approaching a castle. A pang of familiarity surfaced, but as soon as it did the pleasure intensified.

“Do you love me?”

His brows creased. Love? No, he didn’t love her.

A sharp pain pierced him, and he smiled, thinking it was the pleasure, but then the convulsions began. No, he didn’t love her. He hated her, but not for the pain. He hated her for something he couldn’t recall. The pain just always reminded him the something else existed.

“You hesitate, my love. If you want me to bring you pleasure you need to tell me you love me.”

He gathered his courage to tell her to go to the Abyss with her pleasure when she sent it inside him again, intense this time. It was too strong. He heard himself murmur his love, praying she would release her hold.

The surges subsided. He opened his eyes. The castle rose before them. The lady was holding his hand and talking to a man in a green uniform. When his eyes met the man’s a look of shock stole over the man’s features. Then there was shouting. It was loud. He wanted to cover his ears but he didn’t want the people to think him rude.

People swarmed around them with tears streaming down their faces. Trumpets blared. He smiled, unsure of what to do. Some screamed and fell to their knees, thanking the Maker for keeping their prince out of harm’s way. The lady raised his hand above her. The crowd went wild. He smiled until his jaws ached.

When they stopped at the gates of the castle a man in a green uniform, trimmed in a brilliant gold, clasped his hand. Tears glistened in his eyes. “It’s good to see you, my prince. I’m sorry about … ” He paused and turned away. “We all loved her. I have some other news, I’m afraid. I fear to tell you with your health deteriorating but I pray I must. Your father has been murdered. You’re the king of Newlan, my lord. We must send word to Zier as soon as possible.”

The lady stiffened beside him, but he barely noticed. The slow pulse inside him wasn’t enough. He began to shake. The man in the green uniform’s brow creased in worry.

“Help him down, captain. He just needs rest.”

The lady turned to him. The pleasure increased but her eyes could shatter stone.

He understood.

As he leaned against her he spewed the words she wanted him to speak. He would have died without her. She had nurtured him for days. Although he knew he wouldn’t recover, he wanted to marry her. The people needed to have hope. He wanted to give them an heir. The man started crying as he helped him up the steps.

The man yelled for a priest. People scurried around him, bowing as they went. He wondered why they were bowing. Something tickled his mind, but then it left.

A uniformed man led them up the stairs. He was so tired. Soon the man in the green uniform with the gold trimming picked him up and carried him through a bedroom and out to a balcony.

The man sat him down but remained beside him, supporting him. The warm breeze felt nice. He turned to look over the balcony. Hordes of people were crying, smiling, cheering up at him. Many waved, calling the name the woman had told him to don. He waved back, perplexed at their fervor. The people cheered.