Legend of the Inero Dragon (21 page)

He walked into the kitchen, his feet
dragging. "Sorry, I know we had plans. Father requested my presence
in a meeting."

She arched an eyebrow and moved closer to
him. Grabbing his hands, she led him to sit down at the table. "I
didn't realize he needed you in his meetings."

"Sometimes he will consult me on some
defensive magic spells which might be useful, but this was about
something different." He closed his eyes, letting out a quick
breath. "I have negotiated with my father for a way for us to leave
without having to worry about all of the secrecy or getting
caught."

"I'm not going to like the catch, though, am
I? I'm not going to want you to do your end of the bargain," she
said, already worried. It'd be different if she thought his father
was capable of doing something not fueled by selfishness, but Lynx
had yet to show her he could. She'd never met the man in person.
All of this she saw based on the way he treated those around him
and in how his nation was run. It reflected in the attitudes of his
people.

He shook his head. "Probably not, but it's
something I can do. He wants me to aid his prophet in a ceremony by
using my magic to amplify his abilities. In theory it doesn't sound
hard. In practice it probably will be, mostly because it will take
up a lot of my energy. I'm not sure how I feel about this supposed
prophet. If it's an out we can take, I think we should."

"So you're going to perform this one complex
spell for him and that's it? That's all he's going to require from
you for the rest of your life?"

"Yeah, I know. I'm apparently easy to let go
of," he mumbled. She saw the pained frown on his face. She couldn't
even begin to imagine what that must feel like, believing he wasn't
needed by either his father or brother. Her parents had always made
sure to tell her how much they loved her. His family only gave
those words with agenda.

Gwen gave his hand a small squeeze. "I don't
think you're easy to let go of at all."

"Which is another reason why I need to do
this, so you'll never have to."

Her eyes closed. "I don't want to let you,
but I know you'll do it anyway. I'm sure you've already said yes
without consulting me."

"I have," he said, biting his lower lip.

"I trust your judgment, but I'd rather not
risk you being hurt for me."

"I promise I'll be fine." He kissed her
forehead. That one small gesture was more than enough to convince
her.

Chapter Forty-One

The next afternoon, Matt and Jason walked
into the castle chapel together. Their shoulders touched. It was
the closest they dared get to one another despite the temptation to
cling to each other. That would be considered cowardly. Still, they
were both afraid—as much as Matt didn't want to admit it. He knew
his brother was as well because he could smell it pouring off of
him. He wondered if his scent was as strong. Would it be as obvious
on him? He hoped not. He did his best to try and hide the shaking
of his hands and how on edge he was. They shared the feeling, so he
didn't dwell on it. Being scared was obviously an appropriate
reaction. Jason never felt anything considered out of the ordinary,
and if they did it together, then it wouldn't be seen as something
so weak.

Normally, the chapel in the castle was a
bright and happy place. A few of his brothers or cousins were
always in the pews, praying. Every time Matt had entered, it had
always been filled with light and peace. Today when he stepped
inside, however, the room was void of light save for a few candles
placed in the corners of the room. No one sat in the pews. His
father, the prophet, and three other men Matt had never seen before
stood at the front of the room all wearing dark clothes. Everything
deep inside his gut was telling him to run as far away from this
place as possible. He knew there was no turning back.

Matt approached his father slowly. Something
wasn't right with the whole scene. Jason must have felt the same
way because his brother's entire body was stiff as he walked. What
did they agree to do? If he had known how dark and creepy the
setting of this ritual was going to be, he doubted he would have
said yes. This was too important of a task, though. It had to be
done. He didn't think Jason would have agreed with him.

"Stand here," the prophet said. He grabbed
Matt's hand and directed him to stand facing the north. The young
boy then went to Jason, putting him at the opposite end so that
they were looking at each other and only three feet apart.

"Now what?" Matt asked.

Lynx shook his head then put a finger to his
lips. "Seth will tell you what to do and say."

"Yes, trust me," the prophet said. "Close
your eyes."

Matt did as he was told without any more
hesitation. The more he cooperated, the faster this would be over
and done with. Then he could return to his wife and child.
Hopefully, Jason would be in a similar mentality. More often than
not he was obedient, even if it was grudgingly so. He wouldn't do
anything he strongly disagreed with though. Matt briefly wondered
if he would change his mind. Jason stayed. The two hadn't shared
any thoughts yet, which surprised him. His brother almost always
had some kind of commentary about everything.

You're quiet. Are you
okay?
Matt asked. There was no reply. He
briefly opened an eye to see if Jason even reacted to the message.
Jason stood still, pale as a ghost. His breathing was quick and
shallow. Matt couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his brother
like that. More was going on besides simply being
afraid.

Nod if you can hear
me,
Matt said. Again, no reply, nor was
there any movement.
Are we blocked from
each other?
They'd never been disconnected
from each other before. Not because of an outside source, at least.
The two had enough practice with the art of telepathy that they
could choose what to send to the other, but they'd never known how
to stop receiving. If Jason couldn't hear him anymore because of
someone, or something else, then that was even more
disturbing.

"You need to keep your eyes closed," Seth
said, his gaze meeting Matt's.

With a shiver, he did as he
was told. The boy's eyes were completely black. He'd never noticed
it before in his brief encounters with the prophet.
It's the magic, nothing more.
And there was a lot of it floating in the air. The magic was
so thick, in fact, he felt as though he were swimming in nothing
but pure energy. When he closed his eyes once more, he felt his own
magic begin to pour out of him as well. His body became cold, numb,
and weak. Was it Jason's magic he felt surrounding him like a
blanket? Had it already seeped out of his brother and into the room
around them? Would his magic do the same? More importantly, if it
did, would he be able to get it back again?

"Great Lord, hear our prayer." The prophet
began in a low voice, one that didn't seem natural for a child of
twelve to have. He sounded older by at least ten years.

"Great Lord, hear our prayer," the three
other men echoed.

"We are in need of your guidance."

"We are in need of your guidance," they
repeated.

With each word, Matt felt weaker. His body
started to sway; his head became lighter. The air behind him rushed
past, giving a small breeze and brief relief in the magical tension
being created. Someone was moving behind him. The temptation to
open his eyes and look was great, but he didn't want to mess up the
ritual, putting everyone in potential danger. Whatever spell the
prophet used, it worked fast and with great power. The moment Jason
stepped into the circle he had succumbed to it. Then it was Matt's
turn. Disconnecting from it could prove disastrous.

"Outpour your power onto me," the prophet
continued.

"Outpour your power, Great Lord," the other
men echoed again. This time Matt could have sworn he heard a lot
more than four. It sounded more like twenty or thirty.

"Show me your glory."

"Reveal it to us, oh Great One."

Matt fell to his knees, no longer able to
hold the weight of his own body. Every last bit of his energy and
strength left him along with his magic. The air around him became
so much denser, he could hardly breathe. He struggled to open one
of his eyes as he heard shuffling inside the room. Hands touched
his shoulders. He recognized instantly that they belonged to his
father. Matt was finally able to open his eyes. They were so heavy
and strained he wasn't able to focus his vision on much. The other
three men with him were now unconscious on the floor. There were
others in the room now. Matt could see the vague shapes of black
shadows moving across the floor.

"Eyes closed," Lynx whispered into his ear as
he gently pushed his eyelids shut.

"Is Jason—" he began, but he couldn't get the
words to form in his throat. It felt as though it were stuffed full
of cotton. He reached a hand out for his brother. The two had
always been so much stronger together. They could get through
anything. Matt worried about him; he needed him. If they were going
to make it out of this okay, they'd have to rely on one
another.

As he collapsed further to the floor, feeling
as though the weight of his magic was squashing him, he searched
for Jason's hand. They met, Jason having reached out for him as
well. The moment they touched, a light filled the room. A warm,
beautiful light that Matt wished he could see fully with his eyes.
He was far too tired and weak. Instead, he lay still, embracing the
feeling of peace washing over him.

"The Great Lord has heard our desire," he
heard the prophet say, though his voice sounded far away.

"Thank you, Great Lord," the other men said.
Again, it sounded as though there were far more than three of
them.

"He is pleased with the offering. Great
Lord, use my body as you will." Seth then began to chant words Matt
did not understand. They sounded more like incoherent grunts. Each
repetition caused Jason to squirm underneath Matt's fingers. He
felt Jason being pulled away from him. He wanted to fight it, to
keep holding on, but the last of his strength left him, and he soon
feel into a deep sleep.

Chapter
Forty-Two

Jason felt the ground give out underneath
him, then he was plummeting through darkness. He opened his eyes
but it didn't help much. There was nothing to see. His stomach rose
to his throat and he wanted to scream to help relieve some of the
tension inside him. The wind rushed past his face as he picked up
more speed. He closed his eyes to ready himself for the inevitable
impact his body would make with the ground below. There had to be a
bottom eventually.

As suddenly as he had started to fall, he
stopped, suspended in midair.

The last thing he remembered was taking his
place in the chapel to perform the ritual. The instant he stood in
the circle he felt darkness fall over him—no latching onto him,
sucking everything out of his soul. Not only did he lose a great
deal of his magic, he also lost every positive emotion he'd ever
felt. All of the happiness and love he shared with Gwen was
replaced with hopelessness and desperation. Jealousy began to rise
up in place of the caring he felt for his brother, and anger boiled
over toward his father for doing this to him. Actually, his father
had done more than hurt him just this one time. Lynx had always led
him astray. Why did he follow? Out of duty and obligation that he
masked as love.

There is no such thing as love.

Shut up, that's not true.
Love is real. I love Gwen,
he
thought.

No, you only lust after her.
She's beautiful. It's perfectly normal to want her for your own
pleasure.
A new voice filled his head. It
sounded similar to his but it was deeper, darker. For a moment, he
almost confused it for Matt. This voice had a different tone. This
voice belonged to someone, or some
thing
else.

Love. I love her. I know
it,
Jason insisted.

But what do you know about her? How can you
love someone you barely know? If she loved you, if this were a real
emotion, she wouldn't be so guarded. Think about it. What is she
keeping from you, boy? Why is she keeping it from you?

She tells me everything. I don't see why
this is your business anyway.

It is now if we're going to be working with
each other.

We are? I didn't
realize.
Jason rolled his eyes.
Who are you? What are you?

A red glow appeared a few feet in front of
him, and he saw that his face was mere inches above solid ground.
He dropped the rest of the way and had just enough time to shield
his face with his hands. With a scowl, he sat up, rubbing his arms,
which were now skinned. Taking a good look around him, he found
himself in the middle of an expansive cavern.

"Hello? Is anyone here?
Matt?" he called out.
Where is everyone? Am
I dead?

"You're of no use to me dead." The voice
inside of his head spoke aloud.

"Who are you? Where are you?" Jason asked,
searching around him. He saw nothing but the cave walls and the
red, glowing light in the distance. Then a figure stepped in front
of it. All he could make out was the silhouette of a man.

"You make a lot of demands, boy," the man
said, walking forward. He made a small hand gesture and a flame
appeared, illuminating his features. He was young, perhaps only
slightly older than Jason, and handsome with the typical marking of
an Inero: dark hair, dark eyes, and golden skin. His face was
strong and chiseled with confidence. Something about him felt
wrong, though. Jason frowned.