Rise of the Blood Masters (Book 5) (14 page)

“Too dangerous for me, but not too dangerous for you? You’re barely a child!”

“I’m a grown man.”

She poked her finger at his chest. “Fah! Fah! A little hair on your chin doesn’t make you a man, so don’t be smart with me. Besides, I’m a lot more powerful than ye give me credit for. I saved yer life just a few weeks ago, didn’t I? Or have you forgotten that already?”

Tallin sighed. She was his aunt, after all, and no matter how much she exasperated him, he had to show some respect. “No. I haven’t forgotten. You did save me… and I’m very grateful for that. But this is different. We aren’t fighting a single assassin. Balbor is crawling with them.”

“So I’m supposed to stay here and twiddle my thumbs? Or go back to the dwarf caverns while ye sail over to Balbor and risk yer skin?”

“Well, you did say that you had a responsibility to the Vardmiters,” Tallin countered, his determination wavering. He didn’t sound very convincing, even to himself.

“I’ve got a responsibility to ye, too. Ye’re my nephew, and I promised yer mother I would take care of ye. Believe me, ye could use my help! I’ve visited Balbor before, and I’m familiar with the lay of the land.”

He stared at her.
“You’ve
been to Balbor? When was this? Did you go by yourself?”

“Yes, of course I went all by myself,” she replied, laughter in her voice. “It was about two hundred years ago, when I was a lot younger. That’s when I was still crafting weapons, mind ye. I had an enchanted sword and several fantastic daggers on me. Magnificent stuff, really.”

He raised one eyebrow. “I’ll admit you’ve piqued my interest. Why did you go?”

“To take back my bloody spell book! They stole it from me. The Balborites aren’t just assassins—they’re also notorious thieves. When their priests find out the location of a valuable spell book, they send out their minions to steal it. Long ago, one of their temple assassins snuck into Mount Velik and stole my grandmother’s grimoire. The book had been handed down for generations—it was priceless. I went to Balbor to steal it back.”

The story seemed inconceivable. But he knew his aunt wasn’t lying. “Were you able to find the book?”

“Yes, I did get it back, though it wasn’t easy. First, I took a little sailboat to the island. I landed at night, on the northern shore, where their wards are weaker. From there, I walked to the main city where the temple libraries are located. It took a long time to walk, many days of travel, but I took my time. When I got to the main city, I searched the library for days before I found it.”

“Were you discovered?”

Mugla shrugged. “No. I dressed shabbily and pretended I was cleanin’ the shelves. That allowed me to look at all the books. Eventually, I found it, but I didn’t just take it and leave. I swapped out the real grimoire for a fake! I wanted to teach ‘em a lesson. I put a bunch of false spells in there. I’m sure it took a while for them to realize that the book they had wasn’t real. My little trick singed off more than a few eyebrows, I’m sure!” she cackled. “Two can play at their little game!”

“How did you travel unnoticed?”

“Oh, I posed as a servant. No one suspected me. Some ratty clothing coupled with a bit of humility will make anyone invisible. I just kept my head down. I’ve been spellcasting for hundreds of years and I’ve learned how to hide myself quite well. A single individual can pass through their defenses. Ye just have to stay away from all the mageborns, they can sense other spellcasters.”

A corner of Tallin’s mouth lifted. “You surprise me. It seems I’ve underestimated you once again, dear aunt. I will not do so again.”

Mugla reached up and patted his cheek, her mouth stretched in a toothless grin. “Apology accepted, my dear. Well, if we’re going to do this, we’d best be going. We have several days of hard travel ahead. Let’s say goodbye to Chua and Starclaw. When we get to the coast, we’ll need to commission a sailboat. It’s not possible to fly into Balbor on a dragon. The perimeter of the island is warded. To pass through the wards unnoticed, ye must travel on foot.”

Tallin blew out his cheeks. “That puts a wrinkle in our plans. I wonder why the elves didn’t tell me that important detail.”

Mugla shrugged. “It’s possible that they didn’t know. Or simply forgot. Or didn’t care enough to tell ye. Or the wards might not affect them. A hundred reasons spring to mind. Elves only seem to retain information that directly interests them. They don’t worry about the Balborites, for the most part. I think the elves view them as rather silly and not very dangerous.”

“But the Balborites
are
dangerous. They’ve been a threat to us for years.”

“A threat to
mortals
, yes, but to the elves? The Balborites are not a threat to them. The magic of the elvish lands is too powerful, none of the mortal races can travel there, and that includes the Balborites, even their powerful Blood Masters. Believe me; the elves have only a passing interest in this, perhaps because they’re bored, or because the Balborites are threatening the dragons directly. That’s the only reason why they’ve agreed to help ye.”

Tallin leaned back against a tree, his mind tossing and turning. “You’re probably right. It’s understandable why Carnesîr and his little band of elf lackeys would be interested in this mission. But who knows for sure what their motives are? Queen Xiiltharra may finally want to intercede and save the dragons. She’s never been overly concerned before. But now, with this new nest she may have changed her mind, even if her methods are misguided.”

“Just don’t expect too much from them,” she said. “Elves only concern themselves with mortals when they’re protecting their own interests. Knowing them as I do, they’ll never do anything unless pushed.”

Tallin nodded. “There’s some external pressure at work here, and I’m not sure what it is yet, but I’m determined to find out. But first, we have to stop the Balborites. If they get their hands on those dragon eggs, we’ll be in far worse shape than if the elves had taken them. The elves wouldn’t try to harm the eggs, at least not intentionally. I can’t say the same for the Balborites.”

“That’s for sure. Now, when are we going?” Mugla asked, folding her hands in her lap.

Tallin sighed. “I planned to leave today. The elves are traveling through the countryside on foot, and I don’t have a rendezvous point yet. I’ve got to contact Carnesîr using a mind spell.”

Mugla grimaced. “Ugh! I don’t envy you there. Contacting elves that way is the worst. They’re manipulative telepaths.”

He wasn’t looking forward to it, either. Tallin already disliked using telepathic communication. It was exhausting and always felt like an invasion of privacy, but contacting an elf this way was a whole different level of discomfort. He hated to do it, but there was no other option.

“Well, I may as well get this over with. I’ll be back.” He needed to find a quiet place where he could concentrate.

“Ye’ll do fine. Stay strong. Don’t let them sift through your memories—they always like to do that.” Mugla stood up and wrapped her arms around him.

Tallin nodded and padded into the forest. He hated doing this. Anything would be better than linking his mind with an elf’s.

He stopped at a large oak tree that grew near the path. It was as good a place as any. Tallin sat down, closed his eyes, and leaned his head back. The old language came out effortlessly as he opened his mind to the spell. His consciousness drifted out, touching the edges of other minds. Ribbons of blue light surrounded his body. He sensed Carnesîr’s mind pushing against his like a coiled spring.

Glistening with sweat and breathing hard, Tallin felt the elf’s mind wrap around his like a snake. Tallin struggled to fight the assault, putting up blocks to protect his memories, but the elf’s telepathic powers were greater than his. He could sense that the elf was laughing at him, enjoying his humiliation.

Carnesîr sifted through Tallin’s memories and thoughts, stripping his mind bare. Carnesîr was a vindictive telepath, and with Tallin, the elf was settling a score. Every moment was like a knife in Tallin’s brain. He clenched his teeth against the pain.

Tallin had allowed the initial contact, so his wards couldn’t help him. He had to endure the elf’s invasion of his privacy. Carnesîr finished his exploration of Tallin’s private thoughts, and quickly relayed the information regarding their location and the rendezvous point. Then Carnesîr withdrew his mind sharply, stabbing backwards with a mind shield as he exited.

Tallin dropped to the ground in a heap, and his world went dark. He awoke several hours later with his heart pounding a steady drumbeat in his ears. The conversation came back to him then, all of it roaring back into his head like a dam-break.

He took a deep breath and let his lungs fill up slowly. He struggled to get up, leaned over, and vomited. He still felt incredibly dizzy.  He steadied himself with difficulty, reeling like a drunken man, careful not to make any sudden moves. He shuffled miserably back to the grove, where his aunt Mugla was waiting for him.

Mugla was peeling fruit on the grass, holding a bowl in her lap. When Tallin came closer, she jumped up and grasped his shoulder. “Are ye all right? Ye look as pale as a ghost! Were ye able to get the information ye needed, at least?”

Tallin nodded and groaned. Even that tiny movement made his head pound. “Yes, I contacted Carnesîr, then he attacked me with a mind shield. What a surprise.”

“I’m sorry, dear. Ye look a bit green. Here, eat this. It’s star fruit with a dash of numbweed. It will ease your headache. The numbweed doesn’t taste very good, but the star fruit does. “She pushed the bowl in his direction. “The elves are terrible that way. So what did he say?”

“The elves are meeting us on the coast, on the western edge of the Elburgian Mountains. They’ll be able to run for days without tiring, but even so, it will take them a long time to reach the coastline on foot. If they’re lucky, they’ll find some horses, but I wouldn’t bet on it. “

“Did ye ask the elves about their dragons? Did Poth, Blacktooth, and Nagendra agree to help, or are the elves’ dragons going to remain in Brighthollow and let the elves fend for themselves?”

“Carnesîr refused to talk about it. It’s a touchy subject for him, apparently.”

“Humph.” Mugla crossed her arms. “Something’s going on. It’s unusual for a dragon rider to go on a mission alone, and that goes double for an elf-rider. There’s more to this story than meets the eye. Ye can bet on it.”

“I’m sure you’re right. I have that feeling, too. Come on, let’s go talk to Chua. We should be on our way soon.” Before leaving, they stopped to say goodbye to Chua and Starclaw, who they found sitting underneath the Elder Willow.

“Goodbye, Chua,” Mugla said, reaching over to embrace the fragile mage. “We just got here a few days ago, and now we’re leaving again. I’ll come back for a visit as soon as I can. I still owe ye a bowl of yams.”

Chua laughed. “I’ll hold you to that. I want a bigger bowl next time!”

Mugla reached over to squeeze Starclaw’s massive green leg. “I’ll miss ye too, Starclaw. Take care of him for me, will ye?”

“Always,”
Starclaw said with a razor-sharp smile. A wisp of smoke escaped her snout.

“Wait, before you go, let me give you something.” Chua grabbed a handful of earth and sprinkled it into her palm, muttering a short spell. The soil turned into a silver powder. “Save this sparkling earth. If you’re attacked, throw it in your attacker’s eyes. They’ll fall asleep instantly.”

Mugla removed a leather pouch from her pocket and funneled the glimmering powder into it. “Thank ye,” she said. She strung the pouch on a piece of string and put it around her neck. “I appreciate it, but I hope we won’t need this.”

“Me either, but it’s there if you need it. Take care of yourself, Mugla. And you too, Tallin. Good luck on your journey.”

Chua smiled. He waved them off, saying, “I won’t hold you up any longer. You should go now, before it gets too dark. Goodbye.” His voice sounded clipped.

Tallin felt a pang of foreboding as they spoke. Chua seemed anxious. Tallin tried to ignore the feeling, chalking it up to nerves. Chua had the Sight, and if he didn’t say anything, what could be wrong?

Starclaw and Duskeye said their goodbyes, too; quietly and respectfully as dragons do.

Duskeye pumped his powerful wings and took flight, lurching into the air with Tallin and Mugla on his back. Wind whistled around them. Mugla shouted a final farewell as they left the forest floor. “Goodbye, you old soothsayer!” She was smiling and waving even though she knew that Chua couldn’t see her. Tallin and Mugla disappeared above the trees and soon they were gone.

Chua let his hand fall to his side and took a deep breath. The sound of the dragon’s wings died away in the distance. “Thank goodness they’ve left.”

Starclaw crawled forward to sit next to Chua. She rested her giant emerald head on his lap.
“How do you feel?”
she asked.

Chua sighed. “I feel tired. Weak.” Then he shrugged. “I’m relieved that Tallin and Mugla left when they did. That’s all that matters.”

He felt peaceful, yet sad. A contradiction of life. It was quiet for a moment. Two white butterflies fluttered through the clearing. The breeze settled around him, fresh and fragrant.

“The grove is really quiet this evening,” Chua said suddenly.

“You always knew this day would come,”
Starclaw said.

“Yes, I always knew,” he replied. “I’ve always felt the burden in my heart.”

“Are you frightened?”
she whispered.

Chua shook his head. “Not really.” Then he gave her a soft smile. “Well, maybe… but just a little.”

The old rider and his dragon sat in silence until the sun sank over the mountains behind them. The night cooled, and the smell of the evening flowers swirled around them. Buzzing mosquitoes surrounded Chua like a cloud, and he muttered a quick removal spell to shoo them away.

Chua shivered and drew his blanket around his shoulders. Darkness fell, and small creatures emerged from their burrows, scampering through the long grass as they searched for their evening meals.