Condras fire, p.15
ConDra's Fire, page 15
“How will we know if it’s compromised?” The blue Pentharian leader’s gold eyes did not leave her face.
“Jeet will wait at the waterfall to warn you.” She addressed Jordett and Allynae.” Please travel to the Dojanacks. Take the Intersect and inform Yookotay of what has occurred. He will need to prepare a hideaway for Sparrow and Gerolyn.”
“That will leave you here alone.” Allynae’s expression verged on rebellion.
“Paisley and I will manage. Keep your trip to Meos short. If things develop here, you’d better come back via Nemttachenn. Don’t return to the cottage unless one of us gives you the word. Now go. All of you. We have very little time.”
The room emptied. Almiralyn crossed to the window. Four vultures flew over the woods. Allynae and Jordett headed to the barn to advise Paisley of the plans and to begin their journey through the Intersect.
A silence filled with unanswered questions and uncertainty settled over the kitchen. Out of its depths came a message so clear it sent her hurrying up the stairs to her sanctuary. Elcaro’s Eye, emptied of the water that enhanced its power, held her motionless in the doorway. Light from the window made the carved statue’s sapphire eyes glisten. Almiralyn strode forward and gripped the bowl. At the bottom, the tip of the Vesen Crystal caught the sunlight and sent tiny rainbows skating over the fountain’s alabaster sides. “I cannot leave you here to become a weapon in the hands of Lorsedi.”
Warrior instincts sent her to the window. Soldiers are on their way. I can feel it. Returning to the fountain, she moved her hand in a circle above it.
“Elcaro, the all-seeing Eye,
Must be hidden from those who try
To steal it for their evil plan
And use it for their brigands’ band.
* * *
Smaller and smaller, let it be,
So the crystal within stays free,
Until a time when it’s made clear
Elcaro’s Eye may return here.”
One, two, three sharp claps ricocheted around the room. Elcaro shuddered. In the blink of an eye, it shrunk to the size of her palm. Almiralyn picked it up and pressed it to her heart. Tucking it a way in a pouch at her waist, she hurried down the stairs.
On Thera, the narrow, dark space between the two rocks where Sparrow crouched next to Merrilea felt just big enough to hide them both. Above, on the cave’s ledge, she imagined soldiers preparing for their descent down the steep rockslide. Her heart hammered against her breastbone. A shadowed form emerged from the dimness in front of the entrance to their hiding place. Near panic pressed her deeper into the enclosure.
Whoosh… Something touched her cheek, eliciting an almost silent cry. Merrilea squeezed her knee. Sparrow could imagine her soundless “sshhh.” Another soft whoosh made her scoot further back in the crevice. Gasping, she tumbled backwards down what she discovered was a short drop. Cool, moist air rustled through her hair. Surprised and somewhat fearful, she scrambled to her feet.
Merrilea projected a tremulous whisper into the darkness. “Sparrow? Where are you? Are you alright?”
Sparrow turned toward the sound. “I’m fine. Careful, there’s a small drop.” She listened to Merrilea’s tentative approach as she shrugged off her backpack and set it on the ground. Kneeling, she began a search for her lite-stick.
A surprised yelp on the rockslide made her look up. Rocks smashing together and a smothered cry presented the clear picture of a fall. Boulders grated against each other. The rockslide shifted. A resounding crunch left Sparrow immobilized, her mind screaming…The gap is closed. We’re trapped! Her fingers closed around the lite-stick. She pulled it out and thought it on.
Merrilea perched at the edge of the drop off, her face pale in the soft light. “The gap closed. Now what?”
Sparrow offered a hand. Drip. Drop. Drip. The sound of water hitting a wet surface matched the beat of her heart against her ribs as Merrilea clambered down beside her. Surprised wonder replaced her friend’s fear of the previous moment. Holding the lite-stick higher, Sparrow pivoted to follow her rapt gaze.
“Oh my.” She gazed, transfixed.
At the base of a rock-strewn slope, where level ground reached away into nothingness, stalactites and stalagmites of various sizes and colors glinted in the soft light. A pockmarked pattern of pools created over time by the drip, drop, drip of water were scattered throughout. Light vanished—absorbed rather than reflected—on their inky surfaces.
Swoosh. Whish. Whish.
Merrilea gave a startled gasp as a dark shape landed on her shoulder. Whipping her head around, she could only stare.
“Karrew? Is that you?” Sparrow offered her arm.
The big, black raven hopped down from Merrilea’s shoulder and cawed, “It is.”
Merrilea gave a nervous laugh. “You scared me to death. Next time, warn me you’re preparing to land on my shoulder.”
“We’re so glad you’re here.” Sparrow blew out a relieved breath. “How did you find us?”
Ignoring her question, Karrew cocked his elegant head to listen. “We need to go.”
A sound akin to the rustling of autumn leaves moved in a wave across the cavern. Goose bumps raised the hair on the back of Sparrow’s neck. “What the…” She grabbed her backpack and slung it around her shoulders. “Where are we?”
“This isn’t Vascorrie, is it?” The trepidation in Merrilea’s voice did nothing to allay her fear.
“Quiet.” The raven’s terse tone reflected his alarm. “Extinguish the light and crouch as low as you can. Stay close together.”
Sparrow dropped to her knee, her hand resting on Merrilea’s backpack. The lite-stick flicked out, pitching them into abrupt and complete blackness.
Karrew’s great wings wafted through the air above their heads. “No matter what happens, don’t move.”
Sparrow’s hearing, made more acute by the lack of light, picked out Merrilea’s rapid breathing, the steady drip of water, wings pressing against air…not just Karrew’s. Wings, too many to count, beat against the cool moistness of the cavern and circled above her head. “What in the name—”
“Don’t even breathe.” Merrilea pulled her lower, her whisper hoarse with fear.
End - Chapter 18 of 58
ConDra’s Fire - S.K. Randolph
* * *
19
DerTah
Torgin, half blinded by wing-whipped sand, could barely make out the blazing form of the Fire ConDra, where it hovered above them. Through squinting eyes, he tried to bring it into focus. The massive breadth of its wings pulsed, whisking the sand into a swirling cyclone. Fire-gold eyes reeled him into its hypnotic gaze. More fascinated than scared, he watched the vicious beak smoke like a volcano ready to erupt. It shrieked and plunged toward him, its fiery tongue licking the air. Sand stung his cheeks. His eyes watered in defense against the light blazing around him. All he wanted—home—safe, comfortable, boring home.
Brie stepped away from him. A high, sustained sound flowed from her throat and burst into a cascade of quivering notes. Her body faded until it glistened translucent, then vanished altogether as the Water Condria lifted into the air. He gasped and grabbed Ira’s arm.
“ConDria rises.” Her hood thrown back and eyes never leaving Brie’s shifted form, Nichi rose.
Soaring up to meet her foe, the Water ConDria’s silver body soaked up the red of the desert. The two ConDra met and danced a wild dance…a quick step…a swooping and soaring grapevine that wove its way across the late afternoon sky.
Torgin’s ear tuned to the sung chorus that passed between the two magnificent creatures. One song filled with watery changes of key melded with the other steady burn of notes. “What are they doing?”
“Why ConDria not destroy it?” Nichi cowered beneath her kcalo hood.
Ira shaded his eyes with a hand. “Just watch.”
Desert light changed as the sun followed its cycled-course, withdrawing reflected color from the Water ConDria’s form as it went. Phosphorescent silver and fire-orange soared side-by-side in a wide circle. Wing stroke for wing stroke, they matched each other in another intricate pattern of loops and arcs.
Torgin watched the breathtaking pas de deux with rapt attention. When they dropped out of sight behind a dune, he felt an acute sense of loss. “Where are they?”
Nichi pointed at the top of the dune, where two back-lit figures appeared in silhouette.
Torgin stared, rubbed his eyes, and stared again.
Ira gave a low laugh. “Well, I’ll be…”
Together, the figures descended the dune, taking on substance and form as they exited the sun’s lingering light. Brie’s face glistened where sparkling stars of water clung to her fair skin. Beside her walked a Pentharian, tall and proud, his eyes glued to Torgin.
“Yaro! Yaro, is it you?” He ran forward to meet his heart brother. In the ways of ReTaw Au Qa, they touched palms, then foreheads, and then each other’s heart. “How did you know we needed you?”
“I came to discover you, my brother, and to help rescue Esán. Rumors suggest a ConDria has risen in the desert of Fera Finnero.” He bowed to Brie and smiled at Ira. “I have also been told the tale of Ira.”
Torgin almost laughed at Dansgirl’s expression. Then he remembered seeing Yaro for the first time in the Dojanack Mountains on Myrrh. “This is my heart brother, Nichi. He is a Pentharian from the planet of ReTaw Au Qa, and he is our friend. Yaro, this is Nichook, Atrilaasu of the Desert od DerTah and our guide.”
Yaro bowed his head and smiled at the wide-eyed girl. “Thank you for helping my friends, Nichook.” He grew serious. “I have much to share. Our danger is greater than you know.”
Torgin’s excitement at seeing Yaro backslid into dread. I want to rescue Esán and return to Myrrh. Why do I think this will be harder than it sounds?
The results of his search of DerTah’s desert made Esán’s heart sing one moment and plunge into the depths of despair the next. The twins and Torgin travel this way. My rescue is their goal. Wolloh also knows, and he wanted me to know. Why? I sure could use Corvus’ advice.
Repeated knocking interrupted his racing thoughts. Seval pushed the door ajar and peered at him. “Master Wolloh would like you to join him.” His eyes, bright with excitement, noted Esán’s red robes lying on the bed. “Please wear your robes. I will help.” He scurried across the room.
Esán scowled and scrambled into his Tyro costume.
“He’s here.” Seval tied the gold sash with a flourish. “He’s here, and you are to meet him.”
“So, the mystery guest has arrived. Who is it?” Esán felt a rush of expectation.
Seval’s face dropped. Excitement melted away in a blank, lost look.
Esán touched his arm. “It’s okay, Seval. I’ll know soon enough, and then I can tell you. Take me to Master Wolloh.”
Seval seemed even more confused. “You must go to the inner garden.”
“Aren’t you supposed to come with me?”
The boy shook his head. A tear slid down his cheek. He flicked it away and stared at his wet fingers. Blood drained from his face. “I must go. Corvus says to be careful. Give nothing away.” He opened the door and motioned Esán through.
“Wait, Seval, when did you see Corvus?”
“Later.” He sidled past him and padded away toward the back of the large, ranch house.
Esán watched him go with his usual mixed feelings. It’s time to find out who this mysterious guest is. He masked his mind. I wish I had discovered my friends after this meeting. No one else must know they’re here. He squared his shoulders and strode down the hall.
Two uniformed soldiers stood guard at the double doors leading to the inner garden. He approached them with some misgiving.
His uncle, who waited beyond the door, talking with Baroh and several official-looking men, caught his eye. Nomed excused himself, spoke with a guard, and then beckoned him forward. “Hello, nephew. You look charming in your robes.” The hazel eyes held a knowing gleam.
“Wolloh ordered me to wear them.” Esán wrestled with his growing annoyance.
Nomed laughed. “We all dance to his tune, you know. Shall we find a spot where you can take stock of the situation? Being forearmed is always an excellent strategy.” He led the way to a quiet, shaded corner of the garden. “I’ll leave you here. Take time to observe the guests and then join me.” Nomed waded through the crowd to the Dreelas TheLise’s side.
Alone, at least for the moment, Esán surveyed the area. Body language spoke volumes. The posturing of everyone in the garden magnified the undercurrent of tension. A serious game enacted by a serious group of players held everyone in check. He let his gaze wander. Dreelum, positioned strategically around the garden, intermingled with dignitaries from DerTah and elsewhere. Esán noted several women. Soldiers guarded all entrances.
Wolloh’s sightless eye found his corner. “Ah, my dear Tyro, join us.” He spoke from the midst of a group gathered near the garden’s center. “I have a special guest for you to meet.”
Esán wove his way through the crowd, his eyes fixed on the back of a tall man who wore power like most men wear their own skin. Authority hung, chiseled and sharp, around him. Everything—the way he moved his head, the wave of his hand, the carriage of his solid frame—suggested complete control. The set of his shoulders implied a man used to getting his own way. He inclined his head as though listening. His laugh, hard-edged but full of charm, made several others in the room cast a furtive look in his direction.
Aha…Wolloh’s guest. Finally, I’ll find out who it is.
The man tensed, then turned. Esán fought to catch his breath as dark, penetrating eyes fastened on his face. Red hair flashed in the light. A trap ready to snap shut touched his mind. Sheer will power kept him still.
Wolloh’s voice at his side broke the spell. “Let me introduce you to my apprentice, Tyro Esán Efre.” The High DiMensioner’s good hand drew him forward. “Esán, this is the Largeen Joram of the planet of RewFaar and…” He paused, Esán felt sure, for dramatic effect. “…the grandfather of your friends, Brielle and Arienh AsTar.”
Esán’s defenses slammed into place around him as the tingle of a telepathic probe began for the second time. His eyes flashed with anger, but he held his ground.
“My apprentice does not appreciate having his mind probed, Lorsedi. Am I correct, Esán?” Wolloh’s complacent drawl almost made Esán smile.
He looked at the twins’ grandfather. “It is rude and uncalled for. If you have a question, sir, you only have to ask.”
Aware of the hush engulfing the garden, he kept his gaze fixed on the Largeen Joram’s face. Wolloh’s hand still rested on his arm, the fingers relaxed but firm. The tick of an old-fashioned clock marked the slowed passage of time.
A sound filled with discovery broke the tension as the Largeen Joram gave a wholehearted laugh of delight. “Well, boy, Wolloh told me you were full of surprises. It appears we will need to sit down and talk. I am most curious about my granddaughters. For now, let us call a truce and enjoy this gathering.” A smile warmed his dark eyes and dispersed the cool calculation that lurked there.
“As you wish, sir.” Esán turned to greet TheLise, whom Nomed had brought to his side. “Dreelas, it is a pleasure to see you.” He noted the warning in her smile.
“And you, young Tyro. Please introduce me to your new acquaintance.” She bathed the twins’ grandfather in the fullness of her electrifying charm.
Wolloh took charge, allowing Esán to fade from the foreground of the man’s attention. “Dreelas TheLise of the Sea of Trinuge, may I present the Largeen Joram of RewFaar? Lorsedi…TheLise.”
The abundance of red hair flared as the leader of RewFaar clicked his heels together in a military salute and bowed over TheLise’s outstretched hand. “Tinpaca Granier told me of your great charm and your beauty. He did not do you justice.”
A smile, both cool and enticing, accompanied her response. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lorsedi. Welcome to DerTah.”
“And this is Seyes Nomed, Esán’s uncle.” Wolloh’s misshapen face caught the light as he introduced his former apprentice.
Esán observed the twins’ grandfather change tack as he switched his focus to Nomed. His fair face, with its sprinkling of freckles, became more intense. Ruggedly handsome features morphed from charm to conjecture. Taller than Nomed, he gazed down at him with interest. “I understand you have spent time on Myrrh.”
Nomed shook his offered hand. “I have. Are you looking to travel there?”
“Perhaps.” The noncommittal reply masked an interest expressed more fully in his next question. “I believe you have met my granddaughters?”
Esán made his way toward the door. Lorsedi’s power, a vibrant and subtle threat to his defenses, followed him. Holding his thoughts in tight control, he conversed with Baroh and paid his respects to Omudi. Behind him, fragments of conversation held him captive. He glanced over his shoulder.
“How did you find the twins?” Nomed’s question seemed casual enough, but Esán knew better.
The Largeen Joram let his eyes roam the room. They lingered on his face. Speculation curved the stern mouth into a smile before he returned his attention to Nomed. “What do you know of Elcaro’s Eye?”
Esán felt Lorsedi’s focus shift like a release from bondage. Relief almost made his knees weak. He nodded to the RewFaaran soldier stationed at the door and was about to slip out of the inner garden into the late afternoon heat when a languid voice brought him up short.
“Ah, there you are, Father.”
Esán pivoted, letting his gaze scan the room until it came to rest on a tall man who had joined the group around Lorsedi. His hawkish face bore a slight resemblance to the Largeen Joram. Any similarity ended there. Military cut black hair and a deep tan made blue eyes, as cold as the ice on a mountain stream, appear even colder. A well-trimmed mustache curved over a tight-lipped mouth, down his cheeks where his laugh lines might have been, and connected to a square-cut, black beard, which ended below his chin. The total effect gave his face a sinister and intimidating appearance. Esán glanced around the room. No one else seemed to notice the hatred roiling around the man. He crept closer.
