Unleash the Storm (17 page)

He nodded, looking as thoroughly disgusted as she felt. “They built the weavings so they would never weaken with age or fade. The weavings feed off of her, binding her for eternity.”

Her fingernails cut into her palms. “Nyrtaroth and Maahes had wanted their lodestone to be fueled by her love for them, not by eternal hatred.”

“That didn’t work out well for them,” Lyre said, his tone half dry, half bitter.

“Do you think they knew?” she asked, thinking back to her vision of the two ancient rulers. “Did they know what they were condemning Natania to?”

“Maybe, or maybe not. Sometimes inventors get too focused on whether they
can
create something instead of whether they should.” He pushed to his feet and extended a hand to her. “Let’s go talk to Hinote. He’s been researching the great dragons for the last few days. Plus, I bet you’d like something to eat, huh?”

Her stomach gave a loud rumble. She grimaced as she accepted his hand and let him pull her up. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so hungry in my life.”

His trademark half-smile of suggestive wickedness curved his lips. “I’m always hungry.”

She rolled her eyes and almost turned away but stopped herself. His smile faded into puzzlement as she stared at him. Then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face against his shoulder. His arms closed around her, enveloping her in the spicy cherry scent of incubus.

“Thank you for sticking with me through all this crap,” she mumbled into his shoulder, her voice quavering with unshed tears.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, his tone so gentle she almost cried again.

She stepped out of Lyre’s arms, sniffling and trying to hide it.

“Let’s go see Hinote,” she said in an effort to recover some dignity.

With a chuckle at her terrible attempt to sound composed, he took her hand and led her away from the water.

T
he first thing
Piper did when she walked into the room was rush straight to Hinote for a hug. He embraced her gently before stepping back. With his hands on her shoulders, he gazed into her eyes. His eyes, dark and solid with no discernible pupils or sclera, looked right through her.

“You healed well.”

His slow, soft voice sounded inflectionless, but she’d already learned to pick up on the subtle hints of emotion. The ryujin weren’t outwardly expressive; they shared their emotions on a much deeper, more intimate level than tone and facial expression.

“I owe you big for—” She broke off at the stern look he gave her. “No debts among family?”

“Absolutely not. I will not hear of
owing
.”

“Arguing with Hinote is futile,” Lyre advised her. “He’s almost as stubborn as Ash.”

The ryujin smiled briefly and Piper realized Lyre probably knew Hinote at least as well as she did—or maybe even better. She’d only spent five days here—five
conscious
days—on her last visit, but Lyre had been hanging out with the ryujin for two weeks on his own.

“I have lunch,” Hinote said without preamble.

He led the way to a low table surrounded by cushions, the centerpiece of the room. She wasn’t sure if this was his home or office or some other space, but it was another room she’d visited on her last stay. Nooks, filled with bound scrolls and heavy parchment sheets, had been carved into the walls, but she could spare little attention for the rest of the space, not when a wide platter sat on the table, laden with wooden bowls of food.

She dropped onto the cushions, folding her legs, and waited impatiently for Lyre and Hinote to get comfortable. As soon as they were settled, she picked up a small, carved wooden plate—almost more of a mini cutting board than dinnerware—and loaded up on a selection of cut fruits, steamed vegetables, and fish. Some fish was cooked, some raw, all of it deliciously seasoned. She’d learned last time that the ryujin—or at least Hinote in particular—were culinary masterminds. There were no breads, noodles, or grains in their cooking, but she couldn’t miss them. Everything was too tasty.

For several minutes, she concentrated on eating, loading her little plate several times as was ryujin etiquette—small plates, small servings, lots of going back for more. Eventually, Hinote passed her a delicately carved cup filled with crystalline water. She swallowed her last mouthful—grilled white fish wrapped in crisped, salty seaweed—and accepted it, quickly downing the whole thing.

“Amazing, as always, Hinote,” she declared, setting her plate and cup onto the edge of the platter. “I missed your cooking.”

“My table is always open, child.”

She smiled, a little of the lonely, broken ache in her chest easing.

“Lyre told me of your encounter with the great black dragon of the Underworld, and of Ash’s fate.”

He didn’t offer any words of comfort or sorrow, but she could feel his sympathy emanating with each word. She swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in her throat. “Did he tell you about the dragon king legend?”

“He did,” Lyre said, smirking as he popped a piece of orange fruit in his mouth. “Every word.”

“While you healed,” Hinote said, “I searched our archives and histories and collected what information I could. Those who had time to answer my request also sent records from their libraries.”

He rose to his feet and picked up the mostly devoured platter. Lyre sighed wistfully as Hinote carried it away and deposited it in a nook beside the curtained doorway. He pulled a woven basket from another nook and brought it to the table. It was overflowing with large, heavy scrolls. Selecting a scroll from the top, he carefully uncoiled it and spread the thick parchment over the table, revealing its contents.

A beautiful painting covered the entire expanse of parchment, drawn with the graceful strokes of a paintbrush. A silver dragon arched above curling ocean waves, looking as though it had just leaped from the water, with its majestic fins spraying a mist through the sky. And above the silver dragon, its wings sweeping through swirling clouds, flew a black dragon—a very familiar dragon.

Lyre leaned over the scroll beside her, his eyes wide. He clearly hadn’t seen this yet either.

“The great dragons are not bound to a single world.” Hinote passed one end of the scroll to Lyre to hold so it wouldn’t roll back up and used a finger to trace the lines of the water dragon without touching the paint. “We do not know if they chose their homelands because they felt a kinship with the magic of that world or if the magic of the worlds they chose absorbed their essence instead.

“Here in the Overworld, we call our great dragon
Shinryu
. Whether there are one or many, we cannot be certain. Though it has been many long millennia since Shinryu has stirred herself from the depths, her presence can always be felt in our waters.” He lifted his eyes from the painting to Piper. “You have felt the touch of her power. She once answered your call for aid.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest. “The elemental power in the water?” she whispered in disbelief.

“Some say the dragons are the mother and father of all daemons, that we were created by their magic. The truth of this is unknown, but I know they are guardians of their lands and the magic of their world.”

Piper stared at the painting. “So Shinryu is a guardian? But then why is the black dragon evil?”

“I do not believe he is.”

He rolled the scroll up and carefully replaced it in the basket before choosing a second one. He opened it, revealing another painting. In this one, a silvery water dragon reared out of the water, surrounded by blue and green magic that swirled like an impossible blend of fire and water. A ryujin stood before the dragon, also enveloped in the colorful magic.

“As the legends tell, Shinryu was once all-powerful, a goddess of the seas, before she chose to sacrifice most of her magic to create us … and the other daemons of our world if you ascribe to that belief. She no longer needed her god-like power and came to slumber beneath the waters while we acted as caretakers of this world for her.

“Our ancient histories tell of dark days when enemies beyond our abilities threatened us. In those times of need, Shinryu rose from the depths to seek a ryujin with whom she could join her magic, so as to reclaim a fraction of her former power. Together, they defended us and our lands.”

“Did she kill a bunch of ryujin when she tried to bind their magic?” Piper asked, the question coming out more harshly than she’d intended.

“It would not surprise me if some did perish,” Hinote murmured. “You have felt the whisper of her power in these waters; her magic is great and our bodies are weak. Were Shinryu to appear today, any ryujin would be honored to be chosen, even if we should die.”

“Honored?” she spat, her fury breaking free. “How could that be an honor? You didn’t see what that dragon did to Ash. It obliterated his soul. It turned him into an empty power husk, a lifeless tool!”

Hinote’s dark eyes were gentle. “I can speak only for the ryujin and Shinryu. If she asked
you
to risk your life to help her, would you?”

She went still, remembering the tender, metaphysical embrace of the ancient presence in the river, ready to come to her aid. Her shoulders wilted. “What’s the matter with the black dragon then? Why is he like that?”

“Shinryu is considered the mother dragon—a guardian, but also a nurturer. The black dragon would be a patriarch—a warrior guardian. Perhaps he does not possess the nurturing nature of Shinryu; our earliest art often depicts the black dragons more aggressively.”

She crossed her arms, scowling at the painting as she muttered, “That’s kind of sexist.”

“Shinryu is still very fierce, Piper,” Hinote said, amused.

She exhaled. “The dragon was drawn by Ash’s magic. There’s obviously some kind of connection there, but if the great dragons are supposed to be guardians, why have the Taroths been terrified of them for hundreds of years?”

Hinote rolled up the scroll, his silence its own answer. They could guess that the Taroths had been so afraid because the dragon had killed so many of them, but that didn’t answer any of their questions about why the beast wanted to control Ash, or for what purpose.

“Well, we know a bit more about the dragons,” she said. “But we’re no closer to saving Ash. Do you know if a dragon can
un
bind a daemon?”

“I do not know if that is possible; what we know of Shinryu beyond her presence in our lands is ancient memory and written histories. The last recorded instance of Shinryu allying with a ryujin was over three millennia past.”

Her eyes widened briefly. “That’s a long time ago.”

He replaced the scroll in the basket. “Our tales do not speak of any desire to control or dominate the will of the daemon, as you described with Ash. However, telepathy is our birthright and a great skill. I would not claim to be more capable than Shinryu, but perhaps we are naturally better equipped to hold against her powerful mind.”

“Draconians have some limited ability,” Lyre put in. “They can communicate telepathically with their dragonets.”

Hinote nodded. “He could also communicate to a small degree with the koryu, which certainly surprised us.”

“Koryu are the water dragons you’ve seen around the city,” Piper told Lyre in response to his confused expression, then looked back to Hinote. “I didn’t know Ash was able to communicate with the koryu.”

“In a limited fashion. He experimented some while his healing was still ongoing. He could not communicate with us in the same way.” Hinote sighed. “I do not think he has the capacity to regain his autonomy by his own abilities, not from a great dragon.”

“If we can’t break the bond, is there a way we can break the dragon’s telepathic hold on him instead? At least then he could fight back.”

Hinote folded his hands on the table, his dark eyes appraising her gravely. “I will not mince words, Piper. I do not believe there is any power or magic you or I or any daemon possesses that could free Ash from a great dragon who does not wish to release him.”

Her shoulders sagged, despair thickening like a miasma in her lungs.

“There is only one being who could possibly aid you.”

Her eyes darted back to his and her heart stuttered. “You mean Shinryu?”

“If you ask her for guidance, she may assist you. I will not lie, child; it is unlikely. She has not stirred for thousands of years beyond sharing touches of her power with us.”

Her heartrate kicked up to a hopeful sprint. “But I could ask.”

“She may not answer, but you can always ask.”

Piper jumped up from her seat. “I have to try. I—”

Hinote gestured for her to sit again. Clamping down on her urgent tension, she reluctantly sank back down.

“Before you ask Shinryu for aid, you must cleanse your body and soul. You will bathe in the springs beneath the city, rest to regain your strength, and meditate to calm your mind and heart. When you seek her out, it must be as your strongest, purest self.”

Desperate hope and the poisonous fear of failure spun through her. “I understand. Can we begin now?”

He smiled at her impatience. “Yes. Let us begin.”

P
iper splashed
water on her face, gasping at the burst of cold over her skin. Reaching blindly for a towel, she patted her skin dry and opened her eyes. Her face peered back at her in the polished surface of the vein of crystal above the basin.

Even to herself, her eyes looked haunted and huge in her face. The tear-drop scales on her forehead shimmered blue, teal, and aquamarine, bringing out the color in her green eyes. The angles in her face were sharp, her skin as pale as porcelain from the lack of sun. She’d lost weight during her two weeks of healing and several solid meals since hadn’t done much to counter it.

Picking up a beaded tie, she twisted her auburn hair into a bun and tied it firmly in place. She didn’t want any hair in her face for whatever would happen today. Maybe nothing. Maybe something. Maybe the most important thing that would ever happen to her.

Rising to her feet, she turned her back on the mirror and strode out of the baths room and into the curving corridor. In the air all around, she could sense the quiet anticipation; the entire community of ryujin was waiting to discover what would happen today, though none of them would disturb her communion with Shinryu.

Hinote had spent the previous day leading her through the traditional ryujin cleansing ritual, including a long, soaking bath in the springs beneath the city, several hours of meditation, and a special meal. Hinote had made her redo her meditation three times until he was satisfied with her state of tranquility. Then he’d sent her to bed to sleep and gather her strength.

This morning, she could feel a prickling nervousness in the pit of her stomach, but she wasn’t the jittery, emotional mess she’d been twenty-four hours ago. She probably wouldn’t get any calmer than this, so she just had to hope that Shinryu would understand her apprehension.

Over two weeks had passed since the dragon had taken Ash. She knew he was still alive because Seiya hadn’t come through the ley line to summon Piper and Lyre with the distress signal. They would know if Ash died … because Zwi would die shortly afterward. So he must be alive, somewhere, but the thought of what he might be going through terrified her.

Two weeks might just be the beginning of his enslavement if Shinryu wasn’t willing to help her—or wasn’t able to help in any way. If the great dragon couldn’t or wouldn’t help … Piper had no other ideas. If Hinote was right, there were no other options left to choose from. It was Shinryu or nothing.

Breathing deeply to calm her nerves, she stopped in front of the curtain to Hinote’s office and tapped a finger against the heavy material. Hinote’s unspoken welcome brushed over her mind. She pushed the curtain aside and walked in.

He sat at the same low table, a scroll spread out in front of him. She knelt on the cushions across from him and glanced down at the scroll—the painting of the silver and black dragons that he’d first shown her and Lyre. Two cups and a pitcher of fruit juice sat beside the scroll, almost as if he’d known she would stop by before going to the river.

He wordlessly poured two cups and handed her one. She took a sip, letting the sweet fluid flow over her tongue.

“If I fail,” she whispered, staring in her cup, “if Shinryu doesn’t help, then there’s nothing left to do for Ash. He’s doomed and I’ll have completely failed him.”

“The mind is most powerful in the moment. Focus on the now and the next, not the distant future of
maybe
and
if
. Even those of the strongest faith can falter when the eyes focus too far in the distance.”

She forced her jaw to unclench and took another sip. Her stomach churned and twisted.

Hinote set his cup down with a quiet click. “Though it can sometimes be a weakness, love is the most powerful drive there is, rivaled only by hatred. In our legends, Shinryu has always been a being of love and compassion; if you possess any quality she will respond to, it is the strength of your love.”

“I don’t know what it says about me that my greatest strength is
love
.”

“Love is not a power to be scoffed at, child. It can carry you when you have nothing left. You have inherited your great capacity for love from your grandfather, and today is not the first day it has given you the strength to fight onward, I’m sure.”

Looking up, she slowly lowered her cup. “Why did Vejovis leave the ryujin lands?”

Hinote’s shoulders shifted in a sigh. “He chose exile.”

“He
chose
it?”

“Even as a youth, Yuushi’s compassion was great.” He used Vejovis’s original name, not the name he was known by in daemon legends. “A travelling daemon from another territory, a young woman, was injured near our borders. Though it is against our laws—harsh but necessary protections for our people—he healed her instead of allowing nature to take its course. He had never met a daemon of another caste. He was fascinated by her—and she by him.

“They continued to meet, growing close … falling in love. To his credit, she was a sweet and brave young lady of pure heart, very much worthy of love. But his love overcame all wisdom and he shared too much with her about his people and his home.

“She heralded from a territory that has long sought to annex our lands. Her family was high-ranking among her caste and they eventually discovered her relationship with him. Their greed was greater than their loyalty to family, and when she refused to tell them what she knew, they turned terrible brutality on their daughter until she revealed all.”

Piper pressed her hand to her mouth, too horrified to respond.

Hinote’s sorrow saturated the air around him. “They struck swiftly, and for the first time in our history, successfully attacked one of our hidden cities—Yuushi’s home. Many died. We defeated them, but the toll was great.

“Yuushi was inconsolable. He took all the deaths upon his conscience and could not bear to feel the grief and anguish of the families who had lost loved ones. Our shared telepathy, our greatest source of comfort and support, became his greatest torture. He left. He travelled far from his home to escape the pain he had caused and eventually left this world entirely to seek solace in anonymity, where not even Shinryu could speak to his mind.”

Blinking, she held back tears. Hinote’s sadness was a tangible weight in the air. When he’d spoken of the attack on the city, she could almost hear the screams and feel the terror of the innocents living there. When he’d spoken of the anguish of the survivors, she could hear the hundreds of weeping voices echoing in her mind.

“Many years later, he returned to our lands. We welcomed him, opening our hearts to him, but he was distant. He had travelled far and seen much but he still could not escape the burden of his guilt. He could not bear to be part of the shared mind again. Though he continued to visit, he would not rejoin the community.”

She pressed her hands against her knees, swallowing hard. Vejovis had been a strange man, but compassion had been his most defining characteristic. She’d never imagined his history was so full of suffering. The stories told of Vejovis were of a healer who’d vowed to help anyone in need, regardless of their caste, affiliations, or crimes; his political neutrality was legendary. Through his endless mission to save as many lives as possible, he’d still been trying to make up for those who’d died hundreds of years ago … because he’d loved a girl too much.

Love was both a great strength and a great weakness. She would try to remember that.

She rose to her feet and Hinote joined her. She hugged him tight, then stepped back and inhaled slowly.

“Thank you for everything, Hinote.” She grinned at his disapproving frown of her gratitude. “Wish me luck.”

“Luck is for those with nothing else. I wish you strength and courage.”

She gave him one more hug. Then she left with fast steps, not wanting to delay any longer. Fear trickled through her but she suppressed it, holding on to the serenity she’d gained through yesterday’s meditation—though it was probably a fruitless effort. She hurried through the corridors and over an arching bridge. Beyond, the central cavern of the city opened up, sunlight sparkling down through the veins of crystal.

Sitting by the water, almost exactly where she’d found him yesterday, Lyre fiddled with something small in his hands as he contemplated the current. This time he was alone. The ryujin had made themselves scarce to give her privacy for her communion with Shinryu.

She stopped beside Lyre. He looked up, offering a faint smile. His normally golden tanned skin had lightened after weeks in the dark Underworld and then another two weeks in the underground city, and his hair looked as pale as moonlight. Crouching beside him, she stared fearfully at the swirling current as her dread quadrupled in an instant. What if Shinryu said no? What if the great dragon didn’t even respond?

“I was doing good until just now,” she admitted in a small voice. “All the sudden, it feels like I never meditated at all.”

He looked at the object in his hand—a small green gem. After a brief hesitation, he held it out to her.

“What is it?”

“The spell for Seiya. You should try it.”

Try it? Raising her eyebrows, she extended her hand. With a spark of magic to activate it, he dropped it into her palm.

The cavern and river vanished. Even Lyre disappeared. She was alone, crouched on the edge of a gurgling stream that splashed down tiered rocks. Broad trees, their branches heavy with the red and gold leaves of fall, arched overhead, lit by the light of an unseen setting sun. Fireflies danced above the rippling water and the soft ferns that surrounded the rocky banks.

A breeze whispered through the trees, ruffling her bangs and sending a swirl of dislodged autumn leaves fluttering past her. She could actually feel the breeze on her skin. Holding the spelled gem in one hand, she stretched out the other toward the stream. Her fingers found the smooth stone of the floor in the ryujin cavern but at the same time, she could feel the cold water rushing over her skin.

Filled with awe, she sat cross-legged and watched the dancing fireflies until her fear and dread calmed, replaced with a tranquil, unyielding determination.

The illusion blurred then vanished. Lyre appeared in front of her as he lifted the gem out of her palm.

“How was it?” he asked, looking a little nervous to hear her assessment of his skills.

“It was absolutely incredible.”

He smiled and tucked the gem into his pocket. “I thought an escape to somewhere beautiful might lift Seiya’s spirits.”

“It lifted mine,” she said with a smile. “I feel much better. Was that a real place?”

“Yes, I modeled it after somewhere I used to visit a long time ago.”

She hesitated, watching him. Though his expression revealed only a thoughtful sort of distance, she was certain she could see a touch of bittersweet sadness in his eyes. Wherever it was, the autumn stream was a place linked strongly to sorrow for him. He must have chosen it because it was beautiful, despite his less than happy reaction to it personally.

“Where did you learn to make spells like that?” she asked without thinking.

“Here and there,” he said casually, that hint of bittersweet sadness vanishing. “Are you ready for this?”

Her eyes narrowed. That quick, thorough evasion, just like the last time she’d asked. He’d shut down his emotions so fast she was surprised she hadn’t heard his mental doors slamming closed.

Smoothing her expression, she nodded. “I’m as ready as I can be.”

His past was his and none of her business. She needed to stop asking; he would tell her when he was ready, or he wouldn’t tell her at all. She understood wanting to keep the past buried and forgotten for good.

Pushing aside all thoughts of his mysteries and everything else, she used a breathing exercise Hinote had taught her to clear her mind. Closing her eyes, she focused on the coming task. Ash. She needed to save him. She needed to convince Shinryu to help her. A part of her wanted to continue delaying, because once she began, that was it. She either succeeded in convincing Shinryu to help, or she failed Ash for the final time.

She rose to her feet and approached the edge of the river. Jumping up, Lyre grabbed her hand and squeezed it, a quick offering of support before he released her and stepped back. Alone, she stopped at the edge. The rainbows from the sunlight refracting into the cave sparkled and danced across the rippling surface.

With one last deep breath, she dove into the river.

Cold rushed over her body as she sank into the blue water. Her
dairokkan
flowed out behind her, sending a thousand messages to her brain about the current, the rocky bottom, the fish and water plants, even a koryu drifting along the bottom a few hundred yards away.

Shinryu’s ancient presence wrapped around her. The embrace of power, gentle and wise, caressed her mind. Before when she had begged for help to save Ash—when he had fallen into the river with three dagger wounds to the chest—the river’s response had been instant and willing.

She concentrated hard on her need, pushing her thoughts and emotions outside herself so they would be loud and clear to Shinryu. She showed the ancient being what she’d seen of the black dragon and what he had done to Ash. Her tears mixed with the river as she thought of how much she loved him, how she wasn’t sure she could live without him, how afraid he’d been of the great dragon. How she had to save him but didn’t know how.

Please help me. Please save him.

She thought the words as hard as she could, concentrating on her love for him and her need to help him.

Shinryu’s presence swirled around her, listening. But this time, there was no instant response to her request, no immediate rush of power to aid her. Instead, Shinryu contemplated her. Desperate, Piper thought of what else she could say—think—to convince the ancient being. Unbidden, Ash’s words to her in the dark Underworld forest came back to her:
The only one I want to belong to is you.

Shinryu’s swirling presence stilled. The power grew quiet, almost seeming to withdraw.

Panicked denial erupted in Piper, almost overwhelming her.