Part 5 (1/2)
”There's an opening not far below, a cleft in the rock. You can let yourself down. There are footholds. I'll guide you.” yourself down. There are footholds. I'll guide you.”
Rieuk had never conceived of such a cavern, where crystals bloomed like flowers, encrusting the walls and floor, each stone vibrating at its own unique pitch, filling his ears with a symphony of bright sound. There must surely be one among them that was kin to the first Lodestar in its perfection and clarity, one that was fit to contain Azilis and reflect the purity of her song. A crystal that could be both star and lotus...
The song of the aethyr crystals wound itself into Rieuk's brain, enchanting and beguiling him. He touched one after another, delighting as his body resonated in tune with their individual vibrations. Some spread warmth throughout his limbs, others sharpened his thoughts, and others still spread a slow, twilit calm...
He was in his element at last, in harmony with the source of his powers. He lost all idea of time, obsessively pursuing his search as Ormas slumbered within him, until he found a single crystal that pleased him in a way he did not at first understand. He coaxed it from the cavern wall, cradling it gently in his hands. Its facets were so clear that he could look right through them, yet even as he did, it seemed to him that he could see an evanescent trace of iridescence, like sunlight seen through falling rain.
”This is the one,” he said aloud. His voice sounded strange to his own ears. He had not spoken aloud, even to Ormas, in a long, long while. He looked at his water bottle and saw that it was empty.
It was time to go back.
But a dulled weariness spread through his whole body; he had been so intent on his quest that he had not slept in many hours. His head began to droop. Ormas dozed within him. Surely it couldn't hurt to rest for a little while and regain his strength before he set out again to find the Emerald Tower...
”Rieuk! Rieuk!” Oranir stood on the top of the Emerald Tower shouting Rieuk's name into the void until his throat ached.
”Zophas.” He summoned his shadow hawk and sent him out into the Rift. ”Go and find Ormas.”
He stood, his face raised to the las.h.i.+ng of the wind, waiting for Zophas to come winging back.
The look of betrayal on Rieuk's face still tormented him.
How could I tell you that I did it to save your life? For my plan to work, you had to hate me, to revile me. Sardion's moods have become so capricious that if he had once suspected how much you mean to me, he would have had you put to death in the most cruel and perverted way he could devise.
But now he feared that the plan had worked far too well and Rieuk had gone off into the Rift, never to return.
”I can't sense Ormas”-Zophas swooped down, borne on a gust of wind, to perch on Oranir's shoulder-”or any of my brothers. The hawks have gone.”
Lord Estael appeared below, tramping up the hill from the endless forest, leaning heavily on his staff.
Oranir went running down the spiral stairs to meet him, but the instant he saw the grim expression in Estael's eyes, he knew that the news was not good.
”There's no trace of him,” Estael said. ”It's as if the Rift has swallowed him up completely. Or worse still, he's lost his way and wandered into the Realm of Shadows.”
”Let me go.” Oranir tried to push past him.
”I forbid it!” Estael's hand shot out, grasping him by the arm. ”With Rieuk lost, there's only the four of us left.” Then his tone softened . ”Don't throw your life away needlessly. It's not what Rieuk would have wanted.”
”How can you possibly know what Rieuk would have wanted?” Oranir wrenched his arm from Estael's grasp. Was Lord Estael deliberately trying to make him feel guilty? He felt wretched enough already. He had learned far too young that to survive in a harsh world you had to deceive-or be trodden underfoot.
”I wonder how you can still sleep at night,” Estael said, walking on past him with slow, weary steps. Oranir scowled down at the ground. He had his own reasons for betraying Rieuk, but he wasn't going to explain himself to Lord Estael. He had never imagined the matters would turn out so badly, with Rieuk disappearing into the Rift. And as for sleeping... the nights had never seemed so long or so empty without the steady sound of Rieuk's breathing beside him in the darkness.
Lord Estael let out a sigh. ”I fear we are the very last of the magi,” Oranir heard him say, his voice echoing back to him in the void, ”and it will be our sadness to live on as our powers slowly fade away.”
Part II
CHAPTER 1.
Burning braziers warmed the shadows in the crypt of Saint Meriadec's, yet Celestine de Joyeuse could not repress a s.h.i.+ver as she followed Jagu de Rustephan down the worn steps. Although perhaps that was as much due to the sleety snow falling outside as the eerie chill of the ancient crypt. The dusty tombs of long-dead exorcist priests lay in the alcoves below, surmounted by stone effigies, the features eroded by the pa.s.sing of time and the reverent caresses of their grateful paris.h.i.+oners, a reminder, she knew all too well, of the brevity of life.
”Jagu!” Kilian was warming his hands at a brazier, beside their fellow officer, the taciturn Philippe Viaud. ”And Celestine too? Well, this is quite the reunion of the old team. Any idea why the Maistre has summoned us here?”
”I have no idea what this is about,” Jagu said, stamping the snow from his boots.
Ruaud de Lanvaux, Grand Maistre of the Commanderie, came down the stairs, brus.h.i.+ng the sleet from his cloak; at his side, a slim, dark young man in priest's robes removed his spectacles to wipe the condensation from the lenses.
”His majesty,” Celestine hissed, hastily curtsying. The men bowed, Jagu murmuring in her ear as he did so, ”This must be important for the king to attend in person.”
”Thank you all for coming so promptly,” King Enguerrand said, peering shortsightedly at the a.s.sembled members of Ruaud's elite squad of exorcists. ”Some disturbing news has reached us from Azhkendir.” He replaced his spectacles. ”The Drakhaoul has reawakened.”
Celestine had learned the legend of their patron saint, Sergius, the Drakhaoul-Slayer, as a child at Saint Azilia's Convent. She glanced questioningly at the other Guerriers, and saw that they looked as bemused as she.
”For years we've heard nothing about the Drakhaoul of Azh kendir,” said the Maistre. ”Then, just as the snows began, Eugene of Tielen invaded Azhkendir. The new Drakhaon of Azhkendir, Gavril Nagarian, retaliated. It seems that he used his Drakhaoul to repel Eugene's army, defeating him in what was-by the few garbled accounts we've gleaned-a bitter battle.”
” Used Used his Drakhaoul?” echoed Jagu. his Drakhaoul?” echoed Jagu.
”This Drakhaoul merges with his master to take on the form of a powerful dragon that breathes poisoned fire. Its breath is lethal. The secret dispatch our agents intercepted described how hundreds of men-and weapons-had been reduced to ashes.”
”A dragon?” Kilian said, his voice dry with sarcasm. ”Oh, come now, Maistre, are we really to believe the old legend? Weren't we taught at the seminary, Jagu, that the name 'Drakhaoul' is nothing but a metaphor for the forces of evil?”
”It is our duty, as Saint Sergius's disciples, to take up our patron saint's fight against the Drakhaoul,” said the king earnestly, ignoring Kilian's cynical comment. Celestine saw that Enguerrand's eyes shone as he spoke. She was touched by his fervor although she wondered what they could possibly do against a daemon powerful enough to decimate a whole army.
”With respect, sire,” said Jagu, ”if even Sergius was not strong enough to defeat the Drakhaoul of Azhkendir, what can we do?”
Ruaud undid the top b.u.t.tons of his cloak and habit and drew out a crystal on a gilded chain.
”The Angelstone?” said Jagu. The other members of the squad drew nearer to look. Celestine saw that its clear facets were marred by a trace of midnight shadow, deep within.
”This crystal has been in the Commanderie's keeping since Saint Sergius's time,” said the Maistre.
”Does it mean that the Drakhaoul is close by?” Celestine asked uneasily.
”No,” said Jagu. ”The stone goes dark when a daemon is near.”
”We need to learn a great deal more about the daemon before we make our move,” continued Ruaud, tucking the crystal out of sight beneath his robes, ”and so we're planning to-” He broke off as footsteps could be heard on the spiral stair. Captain Friard appeared, breathless, his brown hair speckled with melting snow.
”I beg your majesty's pardon,” he said, holding out a sealed dispatch, ”but I was told to deliver this to you without delay.”
”It's from Amba.s.sador d'Abrissard in Mirom,” said Enguerrand in puzzled tones. He broke the seal and moved closer to one of the burning torches to read. Celestine watched his face as he read and saw a puzzled frown appear that changed all too soon to a look of bemused anger.
”What is it, sire?” Ruaud asked. Enguerrand thrust the letter into his hands.
”It seems that Eugene of Tielen is indestructible. In spite of his injuries, he has not only taken Azhkendir, but Muscobar as well-and annexed Smarna. He has seized the five rubies known as the Tears of Artamon and declared himself Emperor!”
Celestine glanced at Jagu.