Faith Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 2) (34 page)

Ren tried to reach him, but the force of Nigel’s emotions threw him back. The sword glowed with an intense silver light, but the hate stone pulsed with black heat, marring the silver brilliance. The black heat began to grow more intense, eating away at the silver light until Nigel’s form was completely concealed behind a wall of sable.

Then, as quickly as Nigel’s screams had come, the night was immersed in silence. The black light blinked out. In its place, white, clear and black lines merged to one, forming a solid silver triangle. The sword faded into the darkness, but the light of the triangle remained.

Nigel collapsed on the ground. His lips were chalk-white and his skin shimmered with sweat. Ren wrenched the sword from his grasp and stumbled backwards as the power of the blade roared through him: rage so hot it burned his soul, pain so intense it ripped his heart, love so deep it shattered his resolve. They became richer, fuller, brighter, and darker. He strained with effort, feeling his insides smoldering with the severity of the internal elements.

He ached everywhere. The love was so powerful it hurt, it seared, and it burned. The pain was so intense it gouged, it tore, and it ached. He saw Kyra being skinned alive, Manda raped, Sherri and Megglan stabbed, Aidan falling …

Hate filled him. It was a hate so intense he panted with its power. And in the hate there was no more pain. He felt himself begin to lose control. The hate was seduction. It was strength. It was domination. He screamed with effort, knowing he had to release the sword, but almost yearning to use the hate Nigel had just released into the blade.

The horror of it was that he hungered to wield the blade for hate itself. The warnings of the Oracle stole over him like a shadow.

Hate was easier to feel. It sheltered you from pain.

Ren fell to his knees and sheathed the blade. The emptiness he felt without the emotions left him slightly off balance, and then his own pain welled within the pit of his gut. After the hate, it was all the more painful.

He looked at the others.

All eyes were on him, but no one moved. Fear was etched in every face. Ren turned from his friends’ terrified faces when he remembered his sinister eyes in the Oracle.

The three stars were now in perfect alignment. The middle one glowed with a brilliant intensity. Ren wondered where the others were. When he closed his eyes he only felt Nigel’s mien, but then Nigel was beside him. He walked a short distance away and focused on Chris and Aaron. Their connection wasn’t as strong, but he could sense them somewhere in Crape. Instinctively, he knew they felt him too. Turning, Nigel nodded. Nigel was aware of the others as well.

The synergy was complete.

On instinct, Ren looked toward the Raven. It had grown bigger, but they still had time before it would overcome the synergy. Neki followed his gaze and turned to him with a poignant stare.

“Its growth has happened in the past day. If it continues at that rate it will engulf your constellation within one week.”

Ren’s hopes withered. That quickly? He looked back at the unconscious wizard and fingered the hilt of his sword, remembering the hate. He needed to learn how to use the elements and only Zorc could teach him. They all were thinking the same thing as they climbed back on their horses: if they only had a little more time.

- - -

In one heartbeat the air was being sucked from his lungs. In the next it came back in a maddening rush. Chris opened his eyes. Aaron stood above him, sword in hand. They had returned to the Crape castle. Ren had found the third defender and formed the stone.

When the realization flooded into Aaron’s eyes, he lowered his blade. Chris rose from the bed and looked around him. They were in the marriage suite. He had little recollection of what occurred here, but he did recall the emotions: the pleasure, the pain, and the rage. He especially recalled the rage.

He almost yearned for those emotions to rekindle: the biting flame of pleasure, the cutting blade of pain, and the searing scream of rage. But they only smoldered deep below the surface. Now all he had was the memory, the resonance. It was nothing compared to the emotions he had felt before. No pain could ever match the agony he had lived. No pleasure could ever compare to the ecstasy he had suffered.

From now on any emotion that claimed him would be drowned in the memories and washed away. He would be surprised if he ever felt anything again. He was a shell, nothing more.

Aaron hadn’t spoken, but they needed no words. Both knew they had to reach Ren. Chris could feel Ren’s mien. It was a beacon in his mind, calling him to hurry. That beacon was moving toward Zier.

When Chris looked at Aaron, Aaron made no move to leave. Golden eyes held his own with an understanding so rich, so deep, Chris could only nod. Aaron knew Chris couldn’t leave the castle until he had found Alezza and destroyed her.

Chris opened the door to the suite and gazed down the stairs to the halls he had once called home. Everything had changed. The preposterous array of colors Valor had lavishly thrown in every haven was gone. Instead, rich reds and verdant greens, the colors of Quar and Crape, carpeted the castle’s interior. Splashed amidst the new textures were ornaments displaying Zier’s colors of black and gold. The entire castle was a celebration of Alezza’s triumph.

Chris’ eyes shifted to the wall directly opposite him where a large, detailed painting of Alezza now hung. Her eyes sought the painter with a flirtatious glint. Her lips opened in a slight smile. Her hair twisted sensually down her back. The painting was a masterpiece, but the beauty that radiated from its strokes faded under Chris’ glare.

Beneath the surface, Chris felt his hatred boiling, but that hate was only a distant cry. His eyes swept the room, surprised to find none of Alezza’s guard in sight. Only green uniforms ambled below. The gold-braided uniform marking Harman’s high rank glittered in the torchlight.

A servant girl glanced up at Chris and gasped. When Harmon turned to see what had caused the girl’s outburst, shock riveted across his face.

Chris started down the steps, Aaron close behind. The hall filled with a tense silence as servants stopped and watched their descent.

When Chris reached Harmon he spoke only one word, but that word was so biting it seemed to pierce the air like an arrow. “Alezza.”

His voice was odd to hear now that he knew his identity, for it had changed. Where before his voice held slight buoyancy, now it was as flat as a blade was straight. It was a voice of a shell of a man. That fact brought neither sorrow nor pain. It brought nothing.

Harmon cleared his throat, eyes still shimmering with surprise, but beneath the surprise joy bubbled to the surface. “Gone, my lord. After Manda told me what she did I thought it in everyone’s best interest she leave until the mystery was solved.”

Chris nodded. The fact brought him neither disappointment nor joy. “Harmon, I leave you in charge of the castle.”

Harmon’s brow furrowed in confusion. “My lord, where are you going? We need you here. You’re the new leader of Newlan.”

“No, Ren is still the leader of Newlan. Soon he’ll return, and when he does I’ll return Zier to him. I’m riding to Zier, Harmon, to war.”

Harmon studied Chris in the soft light before he nodded, as if what he had seen had answered all his questions, but when Chris turned to leave Harmon spoke again.

“My lord? What of Alezza? Do you want me to send word for her return?”

Chris’ eyes flickered to Alezza’s portrait. As soon as his eyes grazed it, it exploded. Everyone but Aaron and Chris cowered on the floor and covered their heads as shards of wood rained down upon them.

In the lingering silence, Aaron and Chris walked from the castle. In the far corners of his mind Chris heard Harmon shouting orders for the troops to prepare.

They were riding to war.

They rode hard through the night, the next day and the next night. They were exhausted, but they could afford no sleep. The darkness was growing in the sky. Each time Ren looked at it his skin prickled.

Ren spurred his horse into a gallop and careened down the steep cliffs toward the entrance to Grauss’ hideaway. Neki overtook him and led them down, finding footfalls and avoiding crevices that couldn’t be seen by the naked eye. A few times Ren heard a horse stumble behind him, but no one cried out, and before long they were standing in front of Grauss’ hideaway.

“We all go in this time,” Ren said.

Neki didn’t argue as he took Markum and placed him behind a large bolder. Ren tethered the horses out of sight. Morrus untied Zorc and motioned to the others. “I’ll carry the wizard. His weight won’t bother me.”

Ren nodded and within heartbeats the five of them slipped quietly through the crack in the mountain.

The only sound was the running water far below, now a steady drumming instead of the soft trickle it had been before. The fall rains had come early. Soon the rift would be filled with winter runoff.

The nightmoss shimmered brilliantly, so much so their torches weren’t needed. They walked in silence, each knowing how much depended on Grauss’ wisdom. Just before they reached the sage’s cavern, they heard Grauss’ scream.

Neki ran down the remaining path at full speed, calling his grandfather’s name. Ren and the others followed as fast as they could. When they finally stood in the cavern, Ren found Grauss swinging from one of his dangling chairs. By its movement, Grauss was frantic.

“Grauss?” Neki said again, a slight nervousness to his voice.

Grauss turned and surveyed them with a blank stare. His skin matched his white hair. He blinked a few times before recognition came to his face.

“Choice!” he shouted with glee as he reached above him and pulled the lever. The chair moved down the rope with incredible speed. Before it could land, Grauss jumped to the floor and ran to Nigel.

“Choice!” he said again as he clasped Nigel’s face with two bony hands.

The Black Knight looked surprised before he grinned. “Grauss the Sage. Now I know you’re more mad than I even dared dream.”

Grauss chuckled before turning to Ren, face suddenly serious. “I don’t see Chance or Fate.”

“They’re coming.”

“Coming? Have you seen the Raven? My boy, there isn’t much time!”

Ren looked down at Zorc’s limp body. “I know. That’s why we’re here. We need to wake the wizard.”

Grauss peered at Zorc as if he were death come to life.

“We don’t know what happened to him,” Neki began, relaying the story of Dresden. With each sentence, Grauss turned more serious. Soon a frown consumed his entire face.

Grauss ushered them inside and pointed to a nearby table. Morrus gently laid Zorc down as Grauss ran to a large crate. After throwing out the top layer of gizmos the sage buried his entire torso in the crate and selectively tossed more things over the side.

Ren stooped over him. “Can I help you find something?”

Grauss jumped, hitting his head on a large round metal device. After some exclamations and curses Grauss’ head reappeared. “My dear boy, don’t speak while I’m in the midst of something. I forget people are here. Silver dust is what I need. I know I have it in here somewhere.”

Ren reached into his pocket and withdrew the small bag of silver dust he had carried since Michel and Galvin had recovered the bags from Ista’s camp. “I have some.”

Grauss pushed himself up and peered at Ren as if he had gone mad. “Well, why didn’t you say so, my boy?” he asked, snatching the bag out of Ren’s hand and scampering back to the wizard.

“What’s wrong with him, Gramps?” Neki asked.

Grauss plopped the bag of silver dust on Zorc’s chest. “Nothing’s wrong with him. He just used a simple trick called the ‘wizard’s defense’ to avoid whatever magic was in that bottle.”

Nigel moved out of Grauss’ way. “And that is?”

“Sleep.”

“Sleep?” Neki and Ren asked in unison.

“Yes, sleep,” Grauss said, peeling the wizard’s eyelids back. “Some magic is so powerful it can only lock onto something or someone with a great deal of strength or learning. From what you tell me, the bottle the High Priest broke was made specifically for Zorc. It would have been extremely powerful. In order to divert it the wizard went to sleep, for that is when they are at their weakest, hoping the magic wouldn’t catch hold. And the magic, without its true maker present, didn’t know where to go, so it died out.”

“But he’s been asleep for days,” Nigel said in frustration.

“Yes, dear boy,” Grauss said. “Wizards fall into the wizard defense only in desperation for they never know if they’re going to wake up in greater danger than they were in before. Most wake within a sun’s click, but this wizard is different. This wizard is – ”

“Four centuries old,” Ren finished.

Grauss smiled, pleased the synergy had found the answer before it had been revealed. “Yes. He hasn’t slept in almost four hundred years. He can’t wake up. He’s making up for lost time.”

They all stared down at Zorc.

Nigel frowned. “Why hasn’t he slept in all those years?”

“No need. If he’s survived since the Wizard War a time weave was placed on him, and there’s no need of sleep during the duration of the weave. Now that time has once again started turning for him, his body is slowly starting to need more things, like food and sleep.” Grauss looked at his grandson. “Has he slept before this?”

Neki shook his head. “No time.”

Grauss grunted his confirmation.

“So that’s why he refused all food. His body was adjusting?”

Grauss nodded.

“No wonder he’s lost so much weight,” Neki said.

“The wizard’s defense is the most powerful sleep there is. Because he hasn’t slept in four centuries it will be nearly impossible to wake him until he’s slept his fill.” Grauss peered at the wizard. “He’s in dire need of food. He’ll starve if we don’t wake him soon.”

Ren heaved a sigh. “What can you do for him Grauss?”

Grauss blinked up at him. “I can’t do anything. One of you has to wake him. Mere noise or slight physical disruption won’t even cause him to stir. Magic needs to be used, hence the silver dust.” Grauss held up the small bag before plopping it back down on Zorc’s chest. “It’ll help intensify whatever you decide to do.”