The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 02 - The Gathering (3 page)

Taryn looked
back at the queen and reluctantly sat down, forcing himself to watch the queen
of the elves tremble. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she locked eyes with the orb.

For two long
minutes they sat in silence until the queen's breath caught and her whole body
jerked away from the ball. Siarra caught it as Ayame sank into the couch with
her eyes closed, wrapping her arms around her stomach so tight her hands shook.

Taryn sat
frozen in shock, trying to imagine what the queen had seen and at the same time
afraid to know. The queen had never lost control of herself. Even when she had
heard Siarra tell of the impending annihilation of her people she had held
herself together.

What could
cause her to act like this?

The shaking
abated until the queen relaxed. A single tear escaped from an eye squeezed shut
and trickled down her cheek. Then she sat up and brushed the moisture away.

"Forgive
me, Oracle," the queen whispered, working her jaw and swallowing hard.
"I was unprepared for what you have
Seen
."

Unable to control
himself any longer, Taryn asked, "What
did
you see?"

Ayame's
expression locked on his and he felt a shiver go down his spine at what he saw
reflected back at him.

She held his
gaze for a moment before answering, "I watched an endless tide of evil destroy
my entire race, and then I watched our beloved Oracle fight to the death in a
vain effort to let us survive."

Taryn sat bolt
upright. "So we lose!" He shouted into the small room. "No! We
cannot lose. I will not—"

Siarra's touch
stopped him, and meeting her gaze he found a measure of solace in her
expression.

"We may
not be defeated, Taryn. I simply dreamed what would happen if I stayed at the
city with the gathered races. That is all."

"How did
you put that vision into the sphere?" Ayame asked and gestured at the ball
in Siarra’s hands. "I felt like I was there, like this room was gone from
my sight and I was watching everyone I knew die in front of me."

As the queen spoke,
Taryn was glad to see most of her strength had returned. Her pallor had improved
and her eyes had lost the stark terror that had resonated there before. The
queen’s despair had almost overwhelmed him, and he realized that her unwavering
courage had bolstered his own.

Siarra held up
the ball of glass. "I combined the magics of mind and dreams into the orb.
By placing my dream into this reservoir, I was able to make your mind feel like
you were seeing it."

Ayame's gaze
sharpened. "Can you make more of these?"

Siarra 's
expression became expectant, "Of course, but why?"

"I want
each of the riders to take one." She grimaced and looked away. "If others
see this, they will be unable to refute the words of our message."

The Oracle flashed
a thin smile as she leaned back. "I was thinking the same thing."

Ayame gave her
a resigned nod and turned to the guard next to her. "Send word to hold the
riders until we can add to their parcel."

The guard
bowed. "My queen," he said, before departing.

Siarra rose to
her feet and motioned for Taryn to follow suit. "I will begin at once fashioning
the others. As soon as they are completed I will have the messengers
depart."

The queen
nodded in assent. "You must hasten, Oracle. If what I saw in your prophecy
is anything close to reality . . ."

"I know, Ayame.
If there is anyone that knows what is coming, it is I." Her words would
have sounded condescending, but her tone betrayed the weight of knowledge. For
one brief moment, Taryn considered the thought that Siarra hadn't shown her
everything. The idea caused his hair to prickle, and he wondered what would be
too terrible to share.

At a smile of
acknowledgment from the queen, the two of them left the room. For several
minutes Siarra and Taryn walked in silence down the flowering halls of the
palace. Uncomfortable at the imports of the conversation, Taryn brooded on the
various things they had learned.

As soon as
they were outside Taryn turned towards his sister. "You knew she would
want to send the orbs with the riders, didn’t you?

Siarra sighed and
met his gaze. "Of course I did. I knew she would see the merit as any good
monarch would."

"What else
did she see?" Taryn asked, his voice catching at his own hesitation to
know.

She pulled up
short and he turned to ask what was wrong. The moment he saw her haunted
expression his words died on his lips.

She took a
moment to compose herself before responding, "If you still want to see it
after we have finished making the others, I will allow it—but I promise you,
you might wish you hadn't." She stared hard at him until he began to shift
his feet. Then she added, "It doesn’t just show the war, it reveals
glimpses of your own part in that war . . . and perhaps those who you care
about." She broke eye contact and fell back into step beside him.

His mind leapt
to Liri, Trin, and Mae. They had been together since they had left training,
and he'd developed a sense of family with all of them. Liri's soft eyes and
mischievous smile flashed through his mind again. As always, his heart began to
thump awkwardly. Would he see her die in the orb?

Although he
had more questions to ask Siarra, he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth
again. The way she had looked at him left him the impression that she didn't
want him to see his future, but that she was still allowing him the choice. What
could he witness that would cause her so much concern? The scary thought was
that she might not know herself.

For the rest
of the walk back to Liri's home Taryn considered his decision, but as soon as
they stepped inside the House of Runya he forgot about it. Closing the door
behind them, they turned to see a very flustered Liri walking towards them with
her arms full of glass balls.

As with every
time he saw her, he felt a sense of heat rush through his chest. Trim and
blond, she carried all the hallmarks of her elven heritage. As a daughter of
one of the ruling houses of Azertorn, she was also fourth in line to the crown,
a kernel of information that she'd failed to mention throughout the time they
had been in training. Although he now knew the truth of her lineage, he had
seen no sign that it had altered their friendship.

Liri didn’t seem
to notice their entrance and tried to balance the difficult load until she
caught sight of them. With a squeak of surprise she took a step back. Taryn
closed the distance and caught the two fragile balls that had been dislodged by
her movement.

Liri glared at
Siarra and blew a stray hair out of her face. "Took you long enough. I
thought I was going to have to walk all the way to the palace with these."

"Why
didn’t you find a bag?" Taryn asked, stifling the involuntary smile.
Was
he being rude?

Her expression
darkened, but the twitching at the corner of her lips robbed her voice of
anger. "Don't you smile at me. I couldn’t find a bag quick enough. Your
sister made it sound as if I didn’t have time to get dressed."

Siarra stepped
up and reached for one of the orbs. "Sorry, I didn’t have a whole lot of
time."

Liri glowered
at her but allowed the two of them to lighten her load. "Let's take these
to my room. I assume we will need some privacy for us to do whatever you need
with them." Her tone started out stern as she began walking down the
hallway but a yawn softened its effect.

Taryn moved to
follow her but found he couldn’t help himself. "Er . . . could we stop and
get a bag to carry them? I think I might drop one." Of all the people he knew,
why was it so easy to talk to Liri?

Liri whirled,
her eyes flashing, but then bit her lip to hide the smile and ignored his
comment. "I don't know why you had to go with her anyway," she said. "You
could have stayed to help me."

He grinned.
"Good morning to you too."

"Good
morning," she said, her smile winning the fight. "I hope you slept
well?"

He felt
another rush of heat and decided to change the subject. "Have either of
you had breakfast?"

When both of
them shook their heads, he said, "I'll grab some food from the kitchen and
meet the two of you in Liri's room?"

Without
waiting for an answer he turned down a corridor. Half a step away he heard Liri
protest, "Do you know the way?" Even with his back turned he heard
the smile in her tone.

He glanced
back with a grin and waited to turn a corner before trying to figure out where
to go. Directions weren't one of his areas of strength, but he didn't want to
admit what Liri knew already. He did remember the general direction and it
didn’t take him long to find the kitchens again. Grabbing some food and drink
he stuffed them into a leather bag and couldn’t resist putting the orbs into a
second pouch he managed to find.

Five minutes
later he was threading his way back to Liri's personal quarters and soon
arrived at her door. For a moment he hesitated. Should he knock? He shifted for
a moment as he considered whether or not making a noise would interrupt
whatever Siarra was doing. Sighing, he opened the door and slipped into the large
antechamber adjacent to Liri's bedroom.

In front of
him Siarra sat cross-legged on the floor holding an orb in her hands. Her eyes
were closed and she muttered incoherently while bands of light seeped from her
closed eyelids and entered the ball, brightening it more and more until it went
dark.

"How many
have you made?" Taryn asked, astonished at how withered she looked. Since
he'd seen her unbound when she came of age, he'd never seen her appear weak.

Liri answered,
her tone worried, "That's only the second."

Siarra smiled
weakly. "I have to trap my vision into the orb and add enough energy to
keep it there. Energy doesn't store very well you know. On top of that I also
added a touch of prophecy magic. It will make it so the person who activates it
will see glimpses of people they think about. I imagine they will think about
the people that mean the most to them, and briefly see what will happen to them
during the war." Her eyes flicked to Taryn, reminding him of her response
when he'd asked to see the orb.

Without
noticing his renewed consternation, Siarra continued, "This particular
piece of magic will work just once or twice before it's gone. To create a
permanent orb of prophecy would require decades of effort."

"So the
orbs have to be seen first by the ruler?" Taryn asked.

"Correct,
so I will have to make a few more. I believe eight will suffice. Other races
will be driven here on their own, or join groups that have been warned."

"
Can
you make six more?" Liri asked.

Siarra looked
doubtful. "To do this right should take weeks or months." She glanced
at them and saw their concern, so she shrugged and added, "I have to. This
is the only way." Then she caught sight of Taryn and frowned, her eyebrows
twitching. "You need some rest Taryn."

"I'm
fine," he protested, but her scowl deepened.

"Don't
give me that. You haven't slept at all." She rose to her feet and ushered
him towards the door. "We will finish these."

"But—"

"Even a
dwarf has to sleep," she said, and shooed him out the door. "I will
see you in the morning."

The door
closed with a thud, leaving him alone in the dim hallway. Sighing, he trudged
towards his room. He didn't want to admit it, but he was exhausted. After the
wild rush to get to Azertorn, and then the disturbing revelations he'd heard
there, he could barely keep himself awake. Despite that, he wondered if Siarra
and Liri hadn't wanted his help.

Grumbling to
himself, he placed his swords on a dresser, but paused as his gaze lingered on
their hilts. The powerful katsanas were the sole legacy he had of his parents,
and would be his only weapons against his foes. Identical in design, the two
blades were remarkably similar, yet their enchantments couldn't have been more
different.

Engraved with
the name of his father, Mazer hid the magic to cut through almost anything. Its
blue gemstone in the hilt matched the one in his mothers' weapon in size and
shape, but not color. Also inscribed with a name, Ianna carried an emerald in
its handle. Imbued with a morphing spell, it could shift into a magnificent bow
equipped with arrows of solid green light.

Taryn ran a
finger down one of the black scabbards, wishing he knew more about how the
weapons had been created. They had been with his mother when she'd died giving
him his life, but he hadn't discovered their power until the end of his
training. Although the long katsanas were two-handed weapons, he'd been driven
to wield both, and had shaped his technique to do so. Only after speaking with
Siarra did he learn that his dwarven heritage had given him the strength to
accomplish such a feat.

Sighing, Taryn
closed his eyes and rubbed his neck. Yearning for escape, he collapsed into
bed. To his surprise, he fell asleep in seconds, but it didn't feel like rest.
Nightmares of death invaded his dreams, so he was grateful when Siarra appeared
to aid him. Ethereal, she approached him with a package in her hand. Sliding it
into a pocket of his cloak, he felt something hard and round nudge against his
side. Then he heard a faint whisper as the dream evaporated into other images.

"Your
decision to look will affect us all Taryn. I'm sorry I don't know which choice
will save us . . . and which will doom us."

"Choose
wisely brother."

Chapter 3: The Journey Begins

Taryn
stretched again, trying to ease the soreness from of his body. The previous
night's sleep had left him stiff and weary. It felt like every time his steed
moved, his body complained, and for some reason his horse was acting nervous.