Key of Living Fire (The Sword of the Dragon) (53 page)

The shepherd’s face relaxed and even smiled. “Then all is well, Ilfedo. The key is far beyond our enemies’ grasp, and you can count on your sword to be a help to you in the battles to come. As for this young woman whom you have saved, show her the path of righteousness and put her in the hands of those who can heal the wounds to her soul. You have done well—now stand aside.”

As the shepherd pointed the sword down the endless corridor, Ilfedo dragged Escentra beneath the arching doorway to one of the innumerable tomb chambers. He leaned her against the stones and strode back into the corridor. The crystals along the ceiling radiated in the flames of the sword.

A vortex of fire reopened the portal to the Hidden Realm, but the shepherd cut the sword’s blade across the portal, and a glowing ribbon trailed across the portal. The shepherd slashed the portal from top to bottom and closed his eyes as another ribbon formed. The portal flashed, and tendrils of green and black knifed through the flaming hole. The tendrils formed webbing through the portal, and a wave of heat roared out of it.

Ilfedo was thrown into a wall, and his vision blurred. He fell to the floor, then struggled to rise as another wave of heat struck. It felt as if his shoulders had blistered and his face swelled. The prophet fell beside him, and the portal, struggling to its last moments, crumpled like a piece of paper in the webs of energy.

The shepherd pressed the sword into Ilfedo’s hand as he leaned on his staff and stood. “All of the portals have been closed, and the key is safe,” he murmured. Then he walked through the heavy doors, and they thudded shut behind him.

The great white dragon descended from the blue sky. He stretched his beautiful wings of pure white and loomed before Dantress Starfire.

“Father, I have failed you! I waited in the Hidden Realm, waited for Ilfedo to come.” She hung her head and waited for his disappointment.

The dragon rumbled deep in his throat, a rumble that spread through his chest. “Speak, my Starfire. Tell me what transpired.”

She smote her fist against her hip, staring at the ground. “It was the witch. She reached the Hidden Realm before me. I stayed beside the entrance to the Tomb of the Ancients, but she waylaid me. I remember nothing except a glimpse of her face.” She waited for his frustration.

Instead he gazed at the sky and shook his head. “All is as it should be, my daughter. For Patient did meet Ilfedo in the Tomb of the Ancients. Ilfedo told him that another warrior met him in the Hidden Realm, a warrior who secured the Key of Living Fire and threw himself into a portal in order to keep it from the enemy.”

“Another warrior?” She shook her head. “How can we be certain this other individual means to keep it safe? What if Letrias sent him too?”

The dragon was silent for a long while, then he angled his bony head downward and said, “The warrior of whom Ilfedo spoke is none other than our beloved Specter. I believe he followed the traitorous Auron into the Hidden Realm. This means that one more traitor is dead, for I know Specter, and he would rather have remained in that place and died than let Auron live.”

A shiver ran up Starfire’s spine. She clapped her hands, as she would have done as a child. “Truly Xavion guards all that I hold dear! Nothing will harm my daughter so long as that warrior watches from the shadows. Praise be!”

The dragon sighed and shook its head in a slow, deliberate fashion. “I am afraid that is not the way things now stand. Specter will no longer hide in the shadows. His path is his own. If he were to return, it would be by his own choosing and his own doing.”

She felt the ground sinking beneath her and dropped to her knees. “Wh-where is he now? Oganna will need him in the days ahead. He cannot abandon her.” The world seemed to turn on a knife’s edge. “I must go to him. I must bring him back.”

The creature’s pink eyes roved the sky. “That, my dear child, is beyond your power. Only the Creator knows where Specter is now. For Specter took the key into one of the portals, and there is no way of knowing where it took him. Some lead to unknown parts of our world. Others lead to other worlds entirely.”

“Other worlds.” She looked up at the blue sky, picturing the stars night would bring. “You mean to say—he is
up there?
”

The dragon smiled and placed a gentle hand around her shoulders. “I believe so, my child. I believe so.”

“Then I will return to the Hidden Realm and determine which portal took him.”

The dragon shook his mighty head and angled his face downward to face her. “Thy heart is right, child, but your wisdom is lacking. The portals have been closed, sealed by the prophet who first created the Key of Living Fire.”

Realization fell upon her as a warm mist. It surrounded her, making her aware of the grand and deep plan that the prophets had so long ago formed. The plan that today they had brought to fruition. “Patient is the prophet in the legend,” she whispered. “He separated himself from the powers God gave him, creating an intelligence embodied in fire. Living Fire sprang from him—”

“Yes, my daughter, he did. But he only did that after he had used the power of Living Fire to imprison Valorian’s army in unending sleep. Patient sealed the Living Fire in the Hold in the citadel. Then he fashioned a key, a key that accessed the Hold so that if ever needed, the Living Fire could be called upon again. The sword that Ilfedo now wields once rested in the Hold of Living Fire. Patient crafted the sword as the weapon of Living Fire. The sword is the only such weapon, but if the key had fallen into an enemy’s hand the power of Living Fire would have left the sword.” Albino’s scales radiated warmth, and yellow buds formed in the grass around his feet. “Specter has removed the key from this world, and thus the Living Fire shall remain with the sword.”

Starfire looked up at him again. “Then I can at last rest in the knowledge that the Living Fire will remain with Ilfedo’s sword?”

The dragon nodded, yet his eyes were fixed on the sky as if his mind wandered through the stars in search of his faithful Specter.

Vectra lumbered through the blinding walls of windswept sand. On her back, Ilfedo held a shirt over his face as Escentra pressed into his back and tightened her hold around his chest. A few tree stumps were visible through the sand. A scattering of roots too. A branch flew out of the whipping sand and struck Vectra’s shoulder. The creature roared as the branch veered off her side and disappeared into the sand blowing behind her.

They passed the corner of a house’s foundation and descended into an extinct stream. Rising to the other side, the Megatrath shoved past a well cover. Ilfedo’s heart felt as if someone had tied a lead weight around it. Resgeria’s sands had progressed deeper into the Hemmed Land. This town used to be the northern outskirts of Bordelin. After the Megatrath Loos had demolished much of the town, the residents had rebuilt, only to be set back permanently by the forces of nature.

The Megatrath carried them through the storm and into the cool and shading trees of the Hemmed Land’s forests. Ilfedo beat the sand off his clothes, and Escentra coughed. He turned and realized that he had shaken his filth onto her young face. But she smiled, wiped her sleeve across her face, and brushed her fingers through her hair as Vectra rocked to a stop.

“Ilfedo,” the Megatrath rumbled, “how far should I carry you?”

He slid off her back and helped Escentra down. He strode around to face the creature and bowed. “I am grateful that you have taken me this far. The rest we can travel on foot.” He pulled Seivar out from beneath his shirt, and the bird spread its white wings, and then flew into the treetops with a screech.

The wind howled south of them. He felt as if he could hear the forest moaning like a living thing. Vectra lumbered around behind his back, planting her powerful forearm in the grass beside him. Yimshi shone beams of light through the treetops, painting the forest floor in golden hues, but he knew that not far off the desert sands ate into the forests. As a ravenous plague of locusts, they swept deeper into his territory, ruining his peace.

Vectra shook her heavy head. “What will you do, Lord Ilfedo, if the storm does not abate?”

“I will seek a new land for my people, Megatrath. I will search for a place that they can call home for a thousand years.” He sighed and drew his sword. As the Living Fire clothed him, he gazed upon the magnificent blade, turning its crystalline facets side to side to reflect the sunlight. “When I was a young man, upon the death of my wife, a prophet foretold these times. He said that this land would no longer sustain my people, and I would need to search for another land. He said I should seek out a dragon called Venom-fier.

Dragon great, dragon fool

One wise, the other cruel

Venom-fier, to man a friend

The other may be his end.

Ilfedo was silent for a time. He could hear Dantress’s laughter in his mind, and he closed his eyes, savoring it. He felt her lips against his, and his eyes watered. He opened his eyes and gazed up at the mighty Megatrath. “It seems that everything good is either taken away or in another way lost to me.”

The creature rumbled agreement. “But do not despair, Ilfedo. You are wise and strong, and your daughter is the jewel on your crown of accomplishments. And I am your friend, always. Call upon me at any moment and you will be welcomed.” She lumbered southward, then turned and said, “The underground city of which you spoke—”

“Yes. The city of Dresdyn,” he said. For that moment his mind wandered down the dim streets of the Dewobin-lit city. He wondered what had happened since his departure. Tall, strong Bromstead—may the Creator be with them until Ilfedo could get back there. And he intended to go there soon.

She slowly nodded and gave a toothy grin. “You will need help when the time comes to bring those people to the surface. Call on me when you are ready for my assistance.” She turned toward the desert and raced through the trees, her feet landing with powerful thuds.

With the distant howl of the desert wind at his back, Ilfedo led Escentra beneath the tree boughs. He looked down at her and realized how thin she was. Wherever she’d been, perhaps under a wizard’s tutelage, nutrition hadn’t been high on the agenda. He would be the father she needed, if she’d have him.

She glanced around at the bright leaves, and her eyes half-closed as she smelled the air. Ilfedo imagined that Dantress was standing beside him. She would be staring at the young woman, nothing but compassion in her dark eyes, saying, “Ilfedo, let’s love her together.”

Knowing how she would have felt, his chest surged with resolution to bring this girl happiness. He could do this, especially if Oganna welcomed her with open arms.

“How far do we need to go before we come to your house?” Escentra’s voice carried the timidity of a mouse and the elegance of a sparrow.