The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 02 - The Gathering (5 page)

“I know, but that’s
not as strange as him wanting to come with us.”

She chuckled.
“Oh, now that’s obvious.”

Surprised by
her response, he angled his body to look her in the eye. “What do you mean?”

Liri’s grin
widened and she blew out her breath. “Oh Taryn, that’s because you don’t see
certain things.”

“See what?”
Taryn asked, even more confused by her answer.

She laughed
again and then spoke in an undertone, “He’s here because of
Siarra
.”

Taryn’s brow
furrowed, “I don’t understand . . .”

Liri snorted,
her expression shifting to sad. “I’ll let you figure it out.”

Taryn shook
his head, still bewildered as she touched his arm. “You’ll see it eventually,
Taryn.” For some reason her tone kept him from pressing for more information. Instead
he let it drop and returned his gaze to the lake before them. He frowned,
frustrated with himself. Why would Jack risk his life for Siarra? What did he
want from her?

His annoyance
preoccupied his mind enough that he wasn't paying attention to the rest of
Liri's comments, so he was surprised when she rose and departed. The look she
gave him left him even more irritated. Did he say something wrong? It wasn't
the first time he felt he had, and just as before, he wondered what he should
have done differently.

He wished he
had Murai to talk to. His adoptive uncle and the other masters of Sri Rosen would
certainly be called in for the coming war, but Taryn would not be there to see
him. While Murai would be coming to Azertorn, he would be traveling to
Xshaltheria. For the first time he realized that if he failed, it would kill
Murai just as much as if he'd wielded the weapon that slew him. Then his mouth
went dry as another idea struck.

If he failed .
. . Liri would die as well.

Chapter
4: Newhawk

Taryn snapped
awake when Mae touched him on the shoulder. Alert, he scanned his perimeter to
find they were still on the Lake Road. Seeing no danger he yawned and checked
his weapons just in case. Around him the rest of the group were already
breaking camp.

Throughout the
morning Taryn listened to Liri share stories of her time before Sri Rosen—and
before the plague of fear that Draeken’s assassin had spread. The picture she
painted brought sorrow to his heart, even though he’d never seen it.

“This road
used to be a major throughway,” she said at one point, indicating the empty
road before them. “Dwarven caravans, brimming with weapons and armor, traveled
south to market in the human kingdoms. Humans from the south, so prone to
wander, traveled north and were welcomed into the druid and dwarven cities.”
She sighed. “There was a time when the three races mingled without fear, when
it was not uncommon to find a dwarf, elf, or human, almost anywhere.” Her tone
saddened. “It is a time I fear we may never see again.”

 “Perhaps not,"
Siarra said. "When the races gather at Azertorn, they will be forced to
work together.” Her laugh was ironic. “If they don’t kill each other—and if
they survive—then I believe a time of peace could return.”

Mae agreed,
her tone pensive. “It would be good to see such a time again.”

Trin laughed
out loud. “I’d like to see elves and dwarves mingle with humans.” He threw a
sly glance at Taryn. “Although the sight isn’t pretty when they do . . .”

His laughter
was contagious, and Taryn couldn’t help but join in. Yet even as he chuckled he
found his eyes drawn to the east. The mention of his heritage served as a cold reminder
of who he had to face.

They took a
short break around noon and were on the road soon after. Liri continued to
share information about the surface races, as well as the ones that lived
underground or in the water. Taryn was especially intrigued by the description
of the black skinned elves that were the mortal enemy of their surface cousins.
Although they rarely came to the surface, when they did it was to pillage or
destroy. Liri also described the deep gnomes, who were rumored to be just as
vicious as the dark elves.

When Trin
asked how she knew so much about the different races, she flushed and responded,
“My . . . position . . . required that I learn of all the races.”

Taryn smiled,
recalling the conversation when she'd revealed her status in Azertorn. She had
been born a princess, and even though there were three elven women closer to
the Queen, she had still been groomed for leadership.

Liri changed
the subject and went on to talk about the dark skinned tribes of humans that
lived on the central islands of the Blue Lake. Constantly at war with each
other, they rarely ventured out.

"It is
unfortunate," Siarra sighed, "because united the Azüre people would
be one of the strongest nations. Ultimately, their pride prevents them from
achieving such a feat."

"What do
you mean 'their pride'?" Trin asked.

"Each
tribe is distinct, with their own hierarchy and leadership." She shrugged
and raised her eyebrows. "No one wants to give up their power."

"But
didn't we send a runner to them?" Taryn frowned, thinking of the elf's
chances.

"Indeed,"
Siarra replied, "But I fear his effort will be in vain. Even if there was
one leader he could deliver the orb to, it is doubtful he will make it onto the
islands." She paused and her voice tightened. "Outsiders tend to be
executed."

The Oracle's
tone discouraged further conversation, and for a while they rode in silence. As
the afternoon sun began to descend, Trin asked, “What about the races to the
north?”

Liri’s brow
furrowed and she shook her head. “Truthfully, I don’t know much about the far
north. I do know that orcs, gnomes, and trolls live in the large plains and
deserts north of the lake. I have heard that the gnomes live to the northeast
of the dwarves. I am not sure about the others.”

"Most of
the orcs and gnomes live together in Ryazan," Jack said, entering the
conversation for the first time.

Taryn swiveled
in his saddle, but Jack just shrugged and added, "They can be a rowdy
bunch, but on occasion the city is worth visiting."

The
disinterest in the thief's expression didn't match the ghost of a smile that passed
on his lips, causing Trin to snort. "Did you get anything good?"

This time Jack
laughed, "Of course."

When he was
clear he didn't intend to explain, Mae asked, "Do you know anything about
the trolls?"

"They
don't have much of value."

Taryn hid a
smile and turned forward, recognizing that Jack's motivations were—at least on
the surface—fairly straightforward. After considering his words though, he
realized that Jack hadn't answered the question. Did he know more about the
trolls?

Trin was still
laughing at Jack's comment, but said, “We had quite a few problems with trolls.
They liked to travel through the northern foothills that marked the border
between our lands. More than half of our entire army was stationed in those
forts, my father and brother among them—” He blinked and spun towards Taryn
"—Wait . . . when we passed the refugees from Terros I didn’t see any
flags from the northern garrisons!” Hope infused his tone and he sat back in
his saddle, biting his lip.

Siarra
hesitated, and then asked. “There might be a way to find out if the northern
troops were killed—but not yet.”

Trin's mouth had
opened, but it closed with a click, and the light that had blossomed on his
face evaporated. "Why not?" He demanded.

"The
distance is too great. When we get closer, perhaps I can use my magic to
discover if they survived." Her brow furrowed. "But the fiends have
already invaded Griffin . . . so it may be too late."

Trin's eyes
brightened, but the set of his jaw betrayed his tension. The expression was
uncharacteristic for his normally light attitude, and it surprised Taryn. He
hadn’t realized how hard it would have been for Trin to see Terros destroyed
and not know if his family had been among the dead. Then he considered if it was
Murai, and the tightening in his throat told him exactly how Trin would feel.

 “We have to
reach them first,” Trin said and Taryn echoed his statement.

“We will,
Trin,” Siarra replied. “If we hurry we may reach them in time.”

Trin's
expression hardened into determination, and he unconsciously flicked the
reigns. Taryn couldn’t help but smile and push his steed to catch up. Within
moments their entire party had picked up the pace and followed the road as it
curved away from the lake and into the trees. Now heading west of north, they tightened
the ranks to follow the narrower road. On either side the trees grew thick, and
their canopies blanketed the road in shade.

Taryn’s first indication
that they had found the druids was the sensation of being watched. Scanning the
area, it took several minutes to spot what was out of place. When he found the
first he continued looking until he found the others.

An eagle,
perched on a branch high above, sat too still and its position only gave a good
view of the road—not a place to hunt. To their side, a glimpse of the outline
of a jungle cat shadowing their path caused him to bite his lip not to smile.
Each of the animals watching them would have fooled almost anyone, but not
their group. Meeting the eyes of his well-trained companions, he saw none of them
were fooled.

When he looked
at Jack, he appeared . . . uncomfortable. There was no doubt that he'd spotted
the animals, but for some reason their appearance caused him to fidget.
Catching Taryn's raised eyebrow, his expression smoothed into an inscrutable
mask. It was the first time Taryn had ever seen the thief appear nervous, and for
some reason it made Taryn think it wasn't about thieving.

Siarra halted
her horse and raised her arm, which she’d wrapped in a piece of leather. A high
whistle escaped her lips and a hawk dropped off its branch. Gliding towards
them, it swept its wings out and landed on Siarra’s outstretched arm. She
crooned and said, “Why don’t you tell your Joré that we are friends and would
like to enter your village?”

In a very non-birdlike
manner, the hawk nodded before taking off. Within moments a man strolled into
view. His clothes were dark green and brown, and he wore a cloak covered in
blotches of forest colors. His face was remarkably angular, reminding Taryn
that druids took on characteristics of their companions.

Without
getting too close, the man demanded, “Who are you, and how did you speak to
Araz?”

Siarra
inclined her head in a short bow. “I am Siarra, the Oracle.” She then
introduced each of them before turning back to the scout. “We need to speak to
the Guidrian.”

The man
hesitated but most of his concern had vanished. “My name is Agrial. Come with
me, but leave your horses. They will be tended.”

Taryn
dismounted and gathered his belongings. Falling into step behind Siarra the
group disappeared into the forest following the druid scout. Fading light streamed
from above and Taryn noticed that the trees had opened up, leaving enough room
to walk unimpeded.

“Who is your
current Guidrian?” Liri asked.

The man
glanced back with an amused expression at her knowledge. “His name is Newhawk.
Haven’t you heard of him?”

Liri shook her
head. “I have been training with the elves for twenty years.”

The scout
smiled. “Then you wouldn’t know.” Then he turned to the others in their group,
“Do you know about the joining process?” His eyes lingered on Jack, and his
eyebrows twitched.

When each of
them nodded he said, “Sixteen years ago a young lad went into the forest to
summon his Joré. He was intelligent and strong, and speculation abounded as to
what animal he would bond with.
A tiger
, some said,
a lion
others
argued. It was even suggested a tigron would become his Joré. The speculation
became more intense when he didn’t come back. He was gone so long that the
clans began to worry that he’d been killed. Then he returned—not on land . . .
but from the sky.”

Agrial
appeared to enjoy their astonished expressions and waited for a moment until
Trin asked, his voice incredulous, “A
dragon
?”

“Better . . .”
he replied with a glitter in his eye.

“But what
would be better than a dragon?” Liri asked in puzzlement.

Agrial opened
his mouth to answer but Jack and Mae spoke at the same time.

“A phoenix,” they
said.

 The trace of
rancor in Jack's voice caused Agrial's gaze to touch on the thief before commenting.
When he did, he spoke to Mae.

“How did you
guess?” he asked Mae, his eyebrows pulling together.

“A phoenix is
the only other thing big enough to carry a man,” Mae said, causing Agrial to
grin.

“Smart
thinking elf,” he said. “As you might know, a phoenix is just as large as a
dragon, and also sentient. Neither of these great creatures, incidentally, have
ever been joined to a human. I don’t believe anyone thought it was possible.”

Beside him
Siarra murmured so quietly that only Taryn heard, “Not the first time Agrial,
but the dragon joining was too long ago for you to know.”

Taryn was
about to ask her about it, but Agrial was still speaking and he didn’t want to
miss the rest of the story.

“When Newhawk
landed in Keilera on the back of a flaming phoenix, most of us just about wet
our trousers, but there was no danger. The phoenix had answered his call and
became his Joré.”

Taryn cut in
to ask a question that had been bothering him, “But why would a sentient being
join with a druid? Doesn’t the bonding last for life?”

Agrial nodded
soberly, “And phoenixes have far longer life spans than humans. It remains a
mystery why Reiquen joined with Newhawk. Maybe
he
knows, but if he does
he has not said.”