Quest Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 1) (34 page)

When they reached the brush Ickba led Tol deep into the shadows. Tol muttered under his breath, plopping every other berry he picked into his mouth. Ickba relished the suspense as he bent to Tol’s level.

Ickba grabbed Tol’s throat. Tol’s eyes bulged as a few berries flew from his mouth.

“You don’t remember me, do you, Tol?” Ickba said, leaning closer. “Take a real good look. We had some good times, you and I.

Madness rose in Tol’s eyes. When the boy started to scream, Ickba clamped a hand over Tol’s mouth and pulled him deep into the shadows. Distant laughter rolled in, making the deed all the more rewarding. Ickba chuckled in satisfaction as the odor of urine burned his nostrils. It appeared he was more than Tol could handle.

“Tol, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Tol thrashed in his hands. Ickba tightened his grip. His vision blurred as his arousal heightened. Blood pumped through him with blinding heat. Ista had taught him the rapture of control, as she had taught the entire Collective. The strong sacrificed the weaker, most of the time without weapons. The pleasure of ending a life with your own hands was much more pleasant than with aid. He wondered how Tol had managed to live this long. Rarely did one so weak live past the age of five.

Ickba bent forward, eyes a finger’s width from Tol’s own. “I think you’ve grown fond of Bentzen, haven’t you?”

Tol nodded as snot bubbled from his nose.

“If you so much as make a sound, I’ll gut him like I did the one back at camp. You remember that one, don’t you?”

Tol nodded again. Ickba felt his arousal intensify. If he had the hunger he would be more powerful in his attack. His eyes flickered past the brush toward the women. Renee was bent over, packing her things. Ickba could see her shape through her thin smock. He licked his lips.

“Take off the silver band, Tol,”

Tol lifted the silver band and held it close to his chest. The madness intensified. Tol felt Ista’s hold.

“Remember your friend, Bentzen?”

Tol nodded.

“If you don’t do as I ask, I’ll kill him. If you do, I’ll let him live. Do you hear?”

Tol blinked in acceptance.

“While we’re picking berries, you’re going to cut yourself. When we get back to the others you’ll ask Bentzen to take you to the creek to wash off. I’ll kill him if he doesn’t go with you. You’re saving him by taking him away. Do you understand?”

Tol nodded.

“If you tell Bentzen who I am, I’ll butcher Renee and Marva. I’m going to release you now, Tol. Don’t scream.”

When no ray of hope brushed Tol’s face, Ickba took the silver band from Tol’s grasp and looped it through his belt. Tol’s legs quivered as he turned and began to pick berries. Ickba forced Tol’s hand to close down on the thorny leaves until he could see blood dripping from Tol’s small fist.

Ickba leaned closer. “Remember, Tol, only Bentzen.”

Tol’s cry echoed over the plains like a wild animal. Ickba shoved him toward the camp and waited in the shadows until Tol reached Bentzen. A look of genuine concern stole over the swordsman’s face as he picked Tol up and hurried to the nearby stream. When Bentzen was a fair distance away, Ickba emerged from shelter of the brush.

Ducking behind the horses he bent to grab a rope out of his saddlebag. As he cut it into four shorter pieces he listened to the women’s concerned speech.

“Poor thing,” Renee said. “Those leaves are painful when they cut.”

“Ickba should have been more careful,” Marva said, voice hard.

Ickba peered around the horses as he formed a noose in one of the lengths of rope. He wouldn’t have much time. The creek was just over the rise and Bentzen wasn’t the type to leave the women alone for long periods.

Renee’s back was turned. She gazed in the direction Bentzen had gone, shaking her head. Ickba tightened the noose. As Renee sighed, her chest rose, tightening the smock around her breasts. Ickba’s member hardened. He broke free of the horses and threw the noose around Renee’s neck. Yanking her to the ground, he turned to Marva. He felt Renee struggling but knew she couldn’t cry out with the rope tightening, threatening to break her neck.

Marva heard him coming and spun. Her blue eyes widened in surprise, but before she could scream he struck her across the face, knocking the wind from her. She fell, clearing the fire by a hair’s width. He jabbed his knee into her stomach and stuffed a rag into her mouth. He heard Renee gagging behind him and knew he’d have a few heartbeats if he released her.

Ickba tossed the rope aside and pushed the silver band on Marva’s head. He didn’t want her trying to use the power; Marva would be trouble enough without the power, and he also had the queen to contend with. He quickly tied Marva’s hands together and looped a rope around her neck.

Marva kicked him in the groin. He was used to pain and only grunted before he hit her across the jaw, knocking her unconscious. Renee gasped behind him. He spun, grabbed Renee’s rope and quickly pulled it taut. Taking another rag from his pocket, he stuffed it in her mouth and flipped her over. She inhaled deeply, the rope causing her face to splotch. He loosened the rope. She coughed out the rag. Ickba swore and knocked her in the head with his elbow just before she screamed. Her body went slack. A thin trail of blood oozed from where her head had hit a rock. Ickba licked his lips and ran his hands down the queen’s sides. She was shapely but slender, just the way he liked them. He felt the pressure building inside him. Crouching, he lifted her flimsy dress and fingered her. He threw his head back and laughed. The queen was only the beginning of his rewards.

Bentzen still hadn’t returned. Ickba quickly tied the women’s hands and feet before he threw them over the horses. With spare rags he tied them to the stirrups. The longing to kill built inside him. He hungered to release his rage and lust upon the women, but Ista would want the queen. Marva he could have his way with. He may even leave her body as a warning for the Chosen.

Ickba grabbed the reins of the two horses and jogged to his stallion. Bentzen and Tol emerged from the creek just as Ickba mounted. Bentzen looked up. When their eyes met Bentzen broke into a run, lips opening in a silent scream.

Ickba spurred his horse into a trot, leading the other two mounts behind him. “Tell the Chosen his mother will be with Ista!” he shouted. “With each day that dawns the more she will suffer!”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the crystal. Ista’s image was already contained within its depths. Behind him he heard agonized moans of terror.

Ickba glanced back at the silver band on Marva’s head and smiled.

- - -

Pine needles, nuts, leaves, sticks, twigs, and dirt twirled in small cyclones. Ren held his hands up to shield his eyes and shouted, “Neki! Stop!”

“I can’t!” Neki choked on some of his own emotional weave. “I don’t know how!”

After the wolven attack no one had slept and they had decided to stop early that day to gather ample amounts of wood. Galvin built the fire while Markum had begun searching through the books Michel had gathered at Ista’s camp. The first was a history book dating back to the Dark Ages. The final two were training books: one containing lessons only useful to sorceresses, the other explaining the basics of the Quy. But one training book was all they needed.

Those with the Quy were trying to harness their emotions to elicit a specific response.

The four of them differed in both force and talent. Michel had only been able to do small things such as stir a small breeze or bend a flower.

Markum could do nothing. He had felt pain when Ren had reconnected the thread, but nothing happened when he tried to focus his emotions. Markum’s eyes held a hint of fear. Although the books indicated those with the sight may be unable to do more than the smallest tasks with the Quy, the dreamweaver prophecy still haunted him and he feared being unable to do what he must without the aid of magic.

What surprised Ren, and everyone else, was the fact that he was also unable to make anything happen. He had thought once he had written instructions he would be able to use the power with ease, but it seemed his mind was blocked.

He tried to encourage the others, but he knew they could sense his worry. Galvin stayed close to him, offering a silent comfort.

Neki had the power like none other. He could do everything on the first try like it was an innate ability, sometimes without the instructions being finished. That was precisely what had happened with the storm of particles. Markum had been reading how to create a dust storm when Neki had sprung into action.

The particles whirled faster.

A small rock pounded Ren on the head. “Ouch!” He could barely see the others, too much debris spun about him. He could hear the kota’s drumming hooves as she pranced nearby. “Neki!”

“I’m trying!”

Suddenly, the air calmed. Particles either dropped or whisked softly to the ground. When Ren was brave enough to open his eyes, he laughed.

Neki stood with Galvin’s silver necklace looped around his head. Beside him, Galvin grinned like one who had just won a joust.

“Your theory is sound, Ren. Silver absorbs everything coming in
and out
,” Galvin said, emphasizing the latter.

Neki looked at Galvin with disgust. “So I’m not an almighty sorcerer yet, but I will be.”

“I have no doubt,” Ren said.

Leaves and debris stuck to Neki’s clothes. One small stick protruded from underneath the necklace. Ren chuckled again.

“Will you look at that,” Quinton said.

Ren looked up from where he was dusting off his breeches. Quinton pointed to Ren’s sword. The sun’s rays siphoned through the trees and played on the emblems of Choice, Chance, and Fate, but instead of merely casting the hilt in a golden sheen, the light reflected a rainbow into the atmosphere, illuminating the depths of the forest in a spectrum of color. Ren slowly brushed the rainbow with his fingertips, marveling as the light moved with his touch.

“Burning cinders,” Neki whispered, reaching toward the colors with a tentative hand.

“The Oracle,” Ren whispered.

Neki’s fingers caused the rainbow to flicker on his face, lighting him with blues, purples, and yellows.

“Don’t go, Ren.”

Ren turned to the sound of Markum’s voice. The seer sat in the shadow of the woods, concerned etched into his tired eyes. Ren was surprised Markum had guessed his thoughts, but he supposed he shouldn’t be. A seer could deduce a lot from his dreams.

“They Quy wants me to seek the Oracle, Markum. I can deny her nothing,” Ren said. The rainbow continued to dance through the forest, but with the look in Markum’s eyes it seemed ominous. Neki drew back his fingers.

Markum stood. “I haven’t told you my dream. I had it the night you met the Quy.” As Markum stepped into the clearing, he cut off the sun, vanquishing the rainbow. A blanket of darkness settled in, granting power to Markum’s words.

“In my dream I followed you into the woods. You were in a trance and I was worried you would go astray, but before I reached you, you stopped at a fork in the path and tossed a pair of astragali on the ground. You took the path to the right. I tried to follow, but as soon as I stepped on the path, a stone sphinx came alive before me and stopped my entrance. You had already disappeared.

“I sat in the middle of the path and waited until I saw you coming back. Hearing a noise behind me, I turned. You walked down the other path as well. You emerged from the two paths at the same time. The you to the right looked like you did when you left, but you had a wound by your heart and it was bleeding black blood.”

“And the me on the left?”

“Was deformed and hideous, snakes were slithering all over your body and…”

“And?”

“Half of your face wasn’t yours.”

Markum’s words hung in the air like a stench.

“The Oracle plays with people’s minds, Ren. Some come out crazy. Some don’t come out.”

“But some come out with answers,” Ren said, thinking of Aidan. “If the Oracle shows itself to me, how can I deny it?”

“You would risk death?”

Markum’s words chilled him, but didn’t sway him. If the Oracle appeared to him he would have to answer a riddle given by the sphinx, the herald of the Oracle. Most didn’t pass the challenge. If you failed to answer the riddle you died instantly.

Despite the danger, as Ren thought about the Oracle a sense of purpose filled him. The Quy wanted him to seek the Oracle; the Maker wanted him to seek the Oracle; and that was what he would do.

“Don’t go,” Markum said again. “Too many things could go wrong, Ren. You may never come out. That has happened.”

The fear in Markum’s eyes gave Ren pause, but he still felt the need to seek Choice, Chance, and Fate. They could help him. He was sure of it.

“Ren, even if you do make it out, people have been reported to return crazy.”

“But they’ve done what they needed to do. They’ve altered the future,” Ren said.

“Then they kill themselves or forget their names! Some who emerge from the Oracle never regain their complete sanity. Many die trying to enter, and many others have never returned.”

The others stared at Markum with wide-eyed fear.

Markum’s eyes flashed angrily. “I’m not going to convince you, am I?”

Ren shook his head, sure his decision was the right one. “I need to know what the guardians have to say. They are the Maker’s messengers, Markum. The Maker isn’t evil. He won’t bring me harm. Those who die trying to enter or leave the Oracle are deserving of death. If I go with a true heart, seeking nothing but guidance, the guardians won’t harm me. I’m certain of it.”

“But they’ll give you shadows of prophecy.”

Ren shivered at Markum’s words. But even if the Oracle spoke in riddles, he had to try. He had many questions.

Galvin shifted in worry. “Ren, I don’t like this.”

“I second that, Ren. I don’t like this at all,” Quinton said.

Ren sighed and fingered the hilt of the Quy’s sword. “I know you’re worried, but if the Quy gave me this sword it has to mean something. I need to find answers, and the Oracle can give me the answers I need.”