The Sorcerer's Destiny (The Sorcerer's Path) (17 page)

Her artificial winds kept her aloft and speeding toward the Great Barrier Mountains far to the east. Sandy could feel the power stored within the runes had not fully recovered from her colossal outburst yesterday, so she took a more conservative approach to their use. Summoning the guiding winds proved to be a simple task and did not tax her strength. As long as she did not throw a giant, fiery tantrum, she could keep the winds blowing for some time.

The voice drew her like the needle of a compass. Sandy flew onward, never deviating and never losing her way. Soon, the towering peaks of the god-forged mountains loomed over her. She had never felt so small and insignificant in her life. Hundreds of peaks stabbed into the sky so far that if one could stand upon their crests, they would be cast in perpetual twilight.

Sandy heard the voice coming from above her, so she pumped her wings and soared upward where the air thinned, and it became a challenge to breathe. Her wings found less and less resistance, and she surely would have faltered without her summoned wind to lift her like an invisible helping hand. She blinked hard when an enormous section of the cliff face wavered in her vision. For a moment, she feared the lack of air was affecting her senses, but then the stone vanished and revealed a gigantic cave dug into the side of the mountain. Sandy knew this was from where the voice came.

Gliding into the cavern was easy. It was so wide, even her fully outstretched wings did not come close to brushing the sides. Sandy hesitated and examined the cave’s surface. Most of the stone showed clear but greatly aged claw marks, and the floor was worn smooth except for some deep gouges left by taloned feet. The deep layer of dust indicated that even the most recent of those marks were made ages ago.

“Come inside. No harm shall come to you, child
.”

The voice came to her from deeper inside the cave and not from inside her mind. Sandy shuddered as the awesome power of the voice made her scales—her mutilated scales—vibrate. Dangling the two elk from her mouth, she slowly walked deeper into the cavern. The shaft remained straight and uniform, giving evidence to its constructed nature.

Only when Sandy had walked hundreds of yards into the mountain did the tunnel begin to widen into a great cavern. As she approached the chamber, a deep inhalation came from farther inside. She could feel the breeze it created caress her scales as some titanic creature drew in a great breath.

“You are younger than I had suspected; decades from a respectable mating age. I suddenly find you slightly less interesting.” A soft chuckle echoed through the chamber.

“Who are you,” Sandy asked.

“You are a guest in my home. Proper protocol dictates you give your name first.”

“I’m sorry. I did not know.”

“It is all right. The stench of humanity is heavy upon you. I suspect you have had more social experience with those crude creatures than with your own kind. What is your name?”

Sandy growled out her dragon name and felt the lie it now was catch in her throat. “My friends call me Sandy.”

“Beautiful One Whose Scales Shine with the Glory of the Morning Sun. I should like to see such beauty. Sand dragons always were lovely to look upon.”

Soft light illuminated the colossal cavern, and Sandy gasped at the sight of her host. Near the back of the chamber reclined a summit dragon older than the mountain in which it dwelled. Its mass was awe-inspiring, dwarfing Sandy the way her mother did when she was just a hatchling. His body was stark white and mottled with grey like stones jutting out of a snow-capped peak. A wave of ancient power and wisdom washed over her and made her knees buckle. The sudden anger she felt radiating from him made her flatten herself to the floor.

“Who has defiled you?” the venerable dragon demanded in indignation when he beheld the child’s magically etched scales. “I sense the hand of a human involved, but something else as well. You have been touched by one of the elves’ Guardians. What human and Guardian desecrated you?”

Sandy’s mind was awash in confusion and uncertainty. Was Azerick her friend, her surrogate father? A few days ago, the answer would have come readily to her lips, but everything had changed so fast.

“Forgive me, child. My momentary anger has caused me to break protocol. I am One Whose Power Makes the Mountains Tremble. Now that formalities have been properly established, you may refer to me by my familiar name of Mordigar.” Mordigar smiled at Sandy stretching submissively on the floor. “Relax, Sandy, I am not angry with you. You do not need to fear me. I imagine there is a long tale leading to your condition. Humor an old dragon and tell me about it.”

Sandy stood back up and forced herself to meet Mordigar’s eyes. “I brought something to eat. Would like it?”

“Ah, how very appropriate of you. There is a bit of dragon in you after all. It has been centuries since I ate, and I admit it has been difficult for me not to be rude and snatch those lovely creatures from you.”

“Take them both,” Sandy offered. “I gorged yesterday, and I am still full.”

“Guests must share in meals for protocol’s sake.” Her host severed the haunch from one of the elk with a deft slice of one claw. “Tell me of how this human and Guardian came to violate you so horribly.”

“I was young, only two years old when my mother died. Azerick found me when he came into my cave for shelter. He shared his food and water with me. He was kind to me, and I followed him.”

“If he was kind, why would he disrespect you and your mother in such a way?”

“The Scions took hold of my mind. I tried to resist them, but I could not. Azerick and his son Raijaun, he’s the one with the Guardian magic, made the runes to protect me from them.”

Mordigar studied the glyphs for a moment. “Now I see, but there is far more there than needed to protect you.”

Sandy nodded. “He wanted to make me stronger so I could protect myself better. That’s what he said.”

“You think he sacrificed your beautiful scales to make you a better weapon to use against the Scions?”

“I—I don’t know. Partly I guess.”

“It certainly would fit their nature, but you say he has been kind to you for years. Had he used you for his own sake in the past?”

“No. He even died to rescue me and his human foster daughter from other humans who wanted to use us as weapons.”

“He died?”

“It’s another long story. He is a very powerful sorcerer. Death was mostly an inconvenience for him.”

Mordigar chuckled. “As much as I distrust and dislike their kind, only humans are defiant enough to oppose even death and somehow triumph. Do you think he was remorseful about what he had done to you?”

“I think so. Does it matter?”

“That is something you must decide. Only you can decide what is more important to you. Is it your departed mother and the name she gave you, or the man who raised you, loved you, and even sacrificed his life to keep you safe?”

“It just hurts so much,” Sandy said sadly.

“Only true love does. Give it time. Answers often elude us until we stop trying to seek them out.”

Sandy listened to her elder’s wisdom and tried to absorb his words, but her pain ran deep and hot. She needed time to let it cool before she could search through the ashes of her emotions for answers.

“I told you about me. What about you? You must have seen so much in your lifetime. Why are you not under the Scions’ control?”

Mordigar stared past his young guest and back up the river of time to an age long ago. “I have indeed seen and done much. I was there when the races rebelled, and I saw enough slaughter to dread the Scions’ return. Like many of our kind, I isolated myself from the world, partly in fear and partly in shame of my actions. I entered the long sleep only a few centuries after we were freed from the gods’ control. We knew our kind was marked for extinction, so we hid and slept. It was the Scions’ call that woke me just days ago. Then I sensed your power and pain being unleashed and called to you.”

“But the Scions cannot control you now?”

“My pride says it is because I am too powerful, but I think I am simply too stubborn. Their voices are muted, and the Scions are only able to command the young from behind their prison walls, but that will change once they break free and come fully into our world. Then, not even my cantankerous nature will provide a defense against them.”

“What will happen then?”

“I will seek the destruction of the small races. If you choose to align yourself with them, then you and I shall be enemies. You will have to kill me to protect those you love.”

“I could not kill you!”

“You can and you must if you and your family wish to survive. Do not look so forlorn. I am old, and I have no desire to be anyone’s slave. Most every dragon you slay will thank you for their freedom. It is the way of our pride. Better to be dead than relegated to the duties of a cur.”

“Morality and sentimentality aside, I do not have the power to kill someone like you.”

“You have more power than you know. Sand dragons are far from the biggest of our kind, but your natural tenacity is practically unmatched. Your runes contain an awesome power if you learn to use them to their full potential. I can help you in that endeavor, though I fear our time together will be brief.”

“You would help me kill our kind?”

“I would help you free us all. Tell me, do the Guardians still stand their vigil?”

“Azerick says they are all gone. Only his son Raijaun stands as a true Guardian.”

“Then things are truly bleak. What of the small races? Do they stand united and strong?”

“I do not know. Azerick has been fighting to unite them and creating plans to defeat the Scions, but he struggles just to get the humans to work together. I don’t know about the rest of them.”

“It sounds as though your friend is working very hard to save everyone,” Mordigar said.

Sandy dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Many people say he has become obsessed with it. People who once revered him now fear or even hate him. His own family is broken and suffering because he cannot take the time to tend to them properly.”

“Despite what the stories tell us, few heroes are revered or even recognized in their time. It is not until the dust settles and people see the sacrifices a person made by putting others’ needs before their own are they appreciated.”

Although Mordigar spoke of Azerick, Sandy knew his sage words were meant for her. She felt selfish for being so angry with Azerick. He had given up so much for so many people, and she had cursed and forsaken him for a name and pretty scales just like so many others.

“You said you can help me be stronger?” Sandy asked.

“Indeed. You have felt and used some of the runes’ power, but that was only in their most basic of forms. The real power lies in combining them and devising ways to control the elemental forces of nature, often in very subtle ways, to achieve the greatest results. I fear we have little time, but I will show you what I can. But first, I could really use a proper meal.”

Sandy made room for Mordigar to pass and followed the venerable dragon down the passage and out of the cave. Mordigar’s colossal size made it impossible for him to stretch his wings out inside the tunnel. Instead, he threw his enormous bulk over the edge of the cliff and began a heart-dropping plummet to the ground several thousand feet below. He extended his massive wings and soared over the valley long before he came near the rocky ground. Able to unfurl her wings inside the tunnel, sandy had no need to make the free fall but chose to anyway just for the thrill of it.

Just a few hundred feet from the ground, she summoned a powerful updraft to launch her skyward. Sandy quickly caught up with her elder as he glided lazily along the high air currents. She streaked past Mordigar with a loud roar and short burst of flame before circling back and making several tight loops around him as small flares of runic power punctuated each daring maneuver.

Mordigar chuckled at the youngling’s antics with his deep, basso rumbling as Sandy took up a steady position on his left. Sandy felt like a sparrow chasing after a hawk next to him. She could not contain the grin spread across her face at the joy of flying with her own kind. She had never realized how much she missed being with another dragon until now. It felt as though she were truly home for the first time since her mother died. Her smile faltered as guilt washed over her for feeling this way after everything Azerick had done to make her welcome in his life. Sandy felt outright horrified when she looked at Mordigar and thought about the possibility of being enemies one day soon. She pushed the idea from her mind and chose to live for the moment and accept the joy it brought her.

“We will stay close to the mountains to avoid attention,” Mordigar said as they glided high above the base of the towering range. “There, perhaps three hundred feet above the foothills.”

It took Sandy only a moment to locate what Mordigar had spotted. A large herd of mountain goats perched along the narrow ledges and outcroppings picked at shoots of grass growing between the rocks. A lone male called out a bleated warning as he sensed the predators gazing down upon them from on high. Sandy made to dip her wings and dive upon the tensely wary animals, but Mordigar stopped her.

“Wait. There are numerous avenues for them to scatter and flee. I have an enormous appetite, and chasing dozens of goats all across the face of the mountain is needlessly exhausting. Study the terrain, look for areas where you can herd them together, and use your magic to corral them.”

Sandy scanned the rocky terrain below and spotted a deep gulley. “The washout there would channel them together. Once inside it, they would naturally follow its course downward along the easiest path.”

“Very good. Use your magic to get them into the gulch.”

Sandy took just a moment to formulate a plan and plunged toward the nervous prey. The goats instantly bolted in the opposite direction just as he she had expected. Earth runes flared along her body as she conjured pillars of stone ahead and above the fleeing animals, forcing them to turn toward the washout. The goats, seeing only a single route of escape, leapt into the wide cleft and bounded down the mountainside.