Ciardis looked down at her hands, curious to see if the waves of heat were visible in the cold, miserable, gray morning. She couldn’t quite contain a gasp of astonishment, which she quickly turned into a cough into her fisted right hand.
Ciardis watched in fascination as the heat emanated off the woman’s skin and flowed with perfect control into her own body which welcomed it. Looking closely at the woman’s magic, Ciardis traced the magic to the core. It was as bright as a sun, even on such a dreary and rainy day.
Snapping out of her reverie, Ciardis remembered that the woman had come over to question who she was. Although it felt more like an issue of confirmation than a query.
“Yes, and you are?”
“Linda Firelancer,” the woman said in a low voice that barely echoed over the crash of waves on the ship.
There was nothing in the woman’s tone that said she bore Ciardis any ill will or why she’d walked over. But that name was enough to still Ciardis and bring back flashing memories of the night Damias had died at the hands of the Princess Heir – hell bent on killing Ciardis and those with her for interfering in the inheritance rights.
As she stared at the woman before her, chestnut hair falling in waves and gentle hands still capturing Ciardis’s own, she didn’t quite know what to think of the sparks that blazed in Linda’s eyes. Was it the spark of retribution or the sign of a fiery soul? In her mind’s eye Ciardis could still see the woman’s magic rippling across her hands in an intricate dance. The same heat could turn into a fiery inferno and incinerate Ciardis into a pile of ash, if she had been so inclined.
She hadn’t, although Ciardis wasn’t so sure she would have made the same decision, had she been in the woman’s place. The silence stretched with a grim tension that could not be overlooked.
Ciardis bit her lip anxiously as she searched the eyes of the woman whose husband she had watched die.
Finally she said, “I’m sorry for your loss. I sent flowers... Damias was a wonderful man and instructor.”
“Thank you, I loved him with all my heart.” Careful and considerate.
“I hope you know that I did everything in my power to help him. We were ambushed and neither of us could have anticipated how the night would unfold.”
“I wish I had been there. Princess Heir Marissa would not have survived the night,” Linda said with a coldness that made Ciardis think that she might have ice rather than fire running through her veins.
“Yes,” said Ciardis, “I...would have wished that, too. I wanted to greet you at the funeral, but...”
“I wasn’t there,” said Linda with a small shake of her head. “I was still on the emperor’s assignment when I heard the news. I have made my peace in my own way—honoring his life at the shrines along the road.”
Ciardis nodded in understanding as Linda stepped away.
“It was good to meet you, Ciardis. I wanted to give you my greetings personally and extend an invitation to converse further about what we had and still have in common, but for now you should join the Prince Heir,” Linda said as she turned to take her place with the honor guard.
Ciardis nodded as another streak of lightning cracked overhead and the ship swayed in the ocean. As she turned toward Sebastian, she caught a glimpse of the Weather Mage frantically whispering to himself and pouring magic from his hands out into the surrounding ocean. The ship soon stopped swaying and the man visibly wiped his brow in relief.
Walking toward Sebastian, Ciardis noted with gratitude that not only was she warm, but her clothes were also perfectly dry. Tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, she glanced over at the Fire Mage in appreciation.
Then she took her place near Sebastian’s side: to his right and two steps behind, as protocol demanded.
The honor guard, generals, and other courtiers arrayed themselves around them, and behind all of those on the dry deck the Imperial soldiers stood at attention in the rain. Ciardis frowned in dismay. She might not be as close to Sebastian as she once had been, but at least she could get him to listen to her.
Keeping her voice low, but loud enough to reach Sebastian’s ear, she said, “Why can’t the Weather Mage extend the bubble just a little? It’s pouring rain and the lightning is worsening. The soldiers are getting soaked and must be freezing.”
Sebastian stared straight ahead at the turbulent sea, the deck only moving slightly under their feet.
Another effect from the Weather Mage no doubt
, she mused.
“And their armor will rust!” she added in an attempt to show a practical reason for her concern.
“Their armor is weather and heat resistant. They’ll be fine; as new officers, they need to prove themselves to their leaders,” Sebastian said. He didn’t turn his green eyes on her but she imagined they were hard and distant as they watched the water churn in the dark storm outside.
“Oh, yeah, standing in the pouring rain is a
great
way to prove your worth.”
“It shows discipline and fortitude.”
“It shows mindless sheep and a leader who doesn’t care for the comfort of his troops,” Ciardis retorted.
“Enough,” came a baritone voice from the Prince Heir’s left. Ciardis cringed but continued to stare straight ahead. She wasn’t yet ready to give up on this topic, but neither was she willing to argue with the second-in-command of the Imperial forces.
From the corner of her eye she saw a small tic in Sebastian’s right eye.
Good
,
he’s irritated
, she thought.
He should be!
For the moment she watched the harsh play of wind and rain as it struck the wind barrier encasing their little group. She smoothed her pursed mouth into a more acceptable smile and awaited their guest with composure.
It wouldn’t be long now.
O
ut of the distant sky a roar sounded. It was the kind of roar that heralded trouble and made Ciardis itch for a decent crossbow. Over the last two months she had been expanding her Defense tutorials to include archery, practice with a staff as well as a glaive, and the all-important fan. She’d been taking archery lessons with the Weapons Initiates of the Imperial Guard. She knew the guard as a whole regarded her fumbling attempts to load the arrows into the crossbow with amusement. Most of the men there had been knocking arrows and hunting game since they were children. The fact that her arrow wobbled and struck dirt more often than it hit a target didn’t help, either. But her aim was getting better every day.
But regardless of her clumsiness, knocking the arrow, and getting off a shot, even she couldn’t possibly miss a target this large. With a roar like that, it had to be as big as the ship. A sea monster, maybe? But no, the sound had come from up above. And of course if she so much as twitched out of step, she’d never hear the end of it from Sebastian and the Companions’ Guild leadership. Protocol was everything to them.
Her heart beat fast as she strained her eyes to pierce the clouds in the sky. It was an overcast day, and it was hard to see anything farther than ten feet in front of the ship with such a heavy rain. Out of the corner of her eye she saw something, a glint or glimmer on the eastern starboard. She kept looking out of the corner of her right eye. She really wanted to just stuff the protocol and turn to the right, but damned if she did it before anyone else did.
Then an excited murmur came from the man just behind her. The members of his row began to angle themselves so that they could see the right side of the ship, and Ciardis turned obediently with eagerness. They watched as the gossamer layers of cloud began to push outward and part before the massive form that flew through them. Scales, wings, and a flaming mouth peeked through in small glimpses that had Ciardis aching for a strong wind to push the dense clouds out of the way. She couldn’t stop a gasp of delight from escaping her mouth when she saw the massive form begin to descend out of the cloud layer. First a claw appeared, then an arm, and finally the full body came into view.
As a dragon emerged out of the harsh fall sky, Ciardis could see that it was resplendent. Even from a distance, its scales—a brilliant emerald green—shone as if a thousand suns were above the dragon’s mighty form instead of this dull and gray day overcast with rolling thunder, clouds, and rain. As it drew closer, Ciardis felt the flesh on her skin rise in alarm. Goosebumps arose on her upper arms under the cloak and at the nape of her neck. Her magic was reacting to the presence of not only the mages surrounding her, but also the oncoming dragon—a being that could best be described as living magic.
The dragon’s mighty roar sounded again as it swiftly banked its wings to glide in and land...on nothing? Sahalia’s dragons were
kith
, magical beings of non-human form that could wield some sort of power over the elements around them. Of course, that was what the humans called anything they didn’t understand and couldn’t beat with a stick.
The dragons of Sahalia were just as fond of referring to their human allies as
snacks
. Sahalian dragons were immortal, powerful, and vain creatures. Their pride was said to be their weakness. In Ciardis’s awestruck mind it could only be their strength. The dragon in front of her was gorgeous
.
And heading straight into the open water. What could it be thinking? It would fall directly into the water. If the envoy drowned, relations between the Algardis Empire and Sahalia would be ruined.
In the back of her mind she noted that her hand was gripping another with the strength of death. Glancing down, she saw it was Sebastian’s. She didn’t remember grasping his. Reluctantly she started to pull away. She felt his hand flex in what suspiciously felt like a squeeze. “Relax,” he said while squeezing her hand again. She wondered absentmindedly if his hand was spasming...apparently not quietly enough. His amusement rolled through their mind link as he said, “The Sahalian dragons know what they’re doing.”
“I don’t think he does. The Sahalian envoy is heading directly for the open water. With his size and the wings as an encumbrance, he’ll drown. Are you willing to risk the fragile peace between our two empires if that happens?”
Frowning, Ciardis continued to peer doubtfully at the approaching dragon. It was coming in quite fast, although it was still a long distance off.
He chuckled while unlocking her fingers.
“No one will drown; just watch.”
The closer it flew, the more of its wingspan she could admire. Mighty horns arrayed the top of its head like a crown. From wingtip to wingtip, the dragon was easily the size of the three-masted ship she stood on. Each wing had a fine bone structure, like the bats that dwelled deep in the mountain caves of Vaneis and only emerged at night to hunt the bugs in the countryside. Between the bones of the wings was webbed skin on the underside and layered scales on the other. The scales on its belly and neck were a luminescent pearl color while the scales on its back, wings, legs, and head were the same shade of green she’d admired earlier.
It was a beautiful sight to see.
Sebastian called out to the Weather Mage, “Extend the shield by another twenty feet into the ocean and steady the ship.”
Nervously the man nodded, perspiration dripping down his forehead in the dry confines of the wind shield he’d erected. The other people beneath the shield, even Ciardis, were dry and warm.
Perhaps the momentousness of the occasion was making the man nervous?
It wasn’t often that a Sahalian dragon made an appearance anywhere near the Algardis Empire. They didn’t view humans as equals, and given the history between Sahalia and Algardis after the empire’s founding, preferred to stay away. Ciardis eyed the Weather Mage more closely. Her mouth set in a thin line as she glanced back and forth between the oncoming dragon and the man set to smooth its way. She was loath to take her eyes from the magnificent dragon but the Weather Mage looked almost...ill.
He stood, swaying slightly, as if the spell he’d made to steady the ship had no effect on him. Pulling a looped chain from under his robes, he picked up the talisman at the end. The Weather Mage stepped forward through the edge of the wind shield and into the downpour on the deck. Once he reached the ship’s rails, he lifted his hands from the talisman and pushed outward. As his hands pushed outward, the sleeting rain surrounding him arced backward as if pushed by an invisible wall. Quickly the wind shield grew larger, encompassing first the entire ship and then the ocean immediately surrounding it in a circle.
With a short nod to himself, the Weather Mage licked his finger and held it up to the sky. Was he testing the wind? Or changing the current with such a simple gesture? It didn’t look like anything significant was happening. He licked his lips nervously and Ciardis knew something was wrong.
No
, thought Ciardis.
He’s stalling
.
And yet he’d completed one task successfully. She slipped into her mage sight to get a gauge on his core. Even from a distance she could see the power in his mage core dwindling rapidly. The Weather Mage couldn’t possibly be able to stabilize such a turbulent natural force as the ocean in the midst of a gale. She wasn’t an expert on weather magic but even she could see that he couldn’t do another task as momumental as the one asked of him with his depleted core.
The next minute, the Weather Mage stepped back from the rail and looked over his shoulder at the gathered retinue. He gave a short bow to the assembled group, specifically looking at Prince Heir Sebastian for acknowledgement.
Sebastian gave a short nod in return and turned aside to speak with the waiting general of the Imperial forces. The Weather Mage turned back to his task, and just for a moment, fear swept over his face. He picked up the talisman again. Even though he was still facing her, Ciardis couldn’t see the markings on the disc he held at the end of a length of a gold chain. She wasn’t close enough to figure out if it was the relic she thought it was, and, more importantly, if it stored magic.
Glancing sideways, Ciardis noted that Sebastian was still speaking quietly with his compatriot. She decided to see if she could escape notice and leave. Unfortunately for her, while she and Sebastian had been apart for weeks, he was just as aware of her every movement now as he had been when they’d been miles underground in the vale near the White Mountains while trying to reach the cavern of the Land Wight.