The List Unseen, page 18
part #4 of Second Draeken War Series
To her surprise she enjoyed the task tremendously, and soon had several large fish to her credit. Roasting them over a small fire, they savored the succulent meat. After the meal she moved the boat to a less visible inlet so it wouldn't be spotted and returned to her efforts.
Throughout the day Ianna almost managed to forget the enormity of their mission. The clear sky and blue water felt like paradise compared to the recent weeks, and it made her wonder if this was how others spent their lives.
As she caught the fish and he smoked them their conversation ranged beyond the tasks. For his part Mazer shared tales of his time in the dwarven forges and citadels. Heat, work, and drink seemed to dominate his life, and she relished every word. Throughout the conversation he pointedly ignored his time before the dwarves, and she did her best to respect the silence.
Then she shared stories of her own life, focusing more on the varied requests from patrons than on her own youth. She spoke of the humorous requests she had received, such as the wife that had wanted her husband to lose an eye for looking at other women, or the man that had sought an endorsement of his awful cooking. Mazer laughed as he rotated the spit and asked for more.
She told of the sisters that had come seeking advice on parenting, one of the most common requests, and the men that had wanted help to overthrow the kingdom. Requests on breeding livestock, shortcuts to excel in weapon training, or the best locations to hunt, she had done her best to give aid where she could. As dusk fell she told the story of a nine-year-old girl that had traveled for ten days on foot. Her simple request had been to stop her father from beating her and her brothers.
Mazer listened to it all, absorbing the glimpses of her life with humor or sadness etched on his features. By nightfall they had prepared enough food for several days, even if it was just fish. Exhausted yet happy, Ianna felt emboldened by their solitude. With a hesitant glance at Mazer, she scooted her bedroll close to his and lay down adjacent to him. Her mouth went dry as his arm snaked around her torso and pulled her to him, but that was the limit of his advances. Her heart fluttering, she smiled at the sense of comfort and drifted off.
Ianna's sleep was mercifully devoid of dreams. Waking refreshed, Ianna checked his wounds first. "Another day and you should be up to traveling," she said, replacing the bandage.
He grumbled at the delay, but then his expression brightened with a shrewd look. "You said you need a break from using your magic, correct?"
She managed to keep her face clear of deceit. She hadn't told him about the fracturing farsight yet. "Yes," she said, her tone cautious at the anticipation in his eyes.
"We have plenty of fish now, so . . . I think you should learn how to swim."
She laughed at the idea. "Isn't there something useful I can do?"
"Knowing how to swim is useful," he said. He grimaced as he shifted his weight. "It could save your life."
Recognizing the truth to his words she relented. Flushing, she stripped her outer garments and strode to the water. Grateful that he didn't comment on her clothing, she stepped in. Although not cold, the water wasn't warm either. Careful to not slip on the rocky bottom, she slowed when it gave way to dirt. The mud squished between her toes as she advanced to waist deep and it felt oddly pleasurable.
Turning with a sigh, she said, "What now?"
First he advised her to get fully submerged, and to hold her breath as long as she could. I'm over three hundred years old, she thought, this is silly. Nevertheless, she complied with his request. Taking a breath she ducked under the surface. With her eyes clenched shut, she relished in the silence and pressure. She quivered at the sensation, and stayed until the demands for air drove her to the surface.
A spontaneous laugh burst from her lips as she breathed again. How had she not done this before? The sensation of water against her skin, cool and compressed, was indescribable. She'd thought it would be something akin to a bath, but the two hardly related. The gentle pull of the current felt like a caress, and she savored its novelty.
Then she ducked her head under again and quivered in delight. Cautiously she opened her eyes, and watched in fascination as the light filtered past her. With a smile on her lips, she rose to the surface once more.
"It's beautiful," she called to Mazer, wiping the water from her face.
"This time of year it should be," he replied with a grin. "Although I wager it's a little chilly."
"A little," she admitted. "How would it compare with the underground streams in Torridin?"
He issued a bark of laughter and gestured at the water. "This would have been considered a heated bath compared to them. In the winter they were cold enough to freeze a dwarf's beard."
She shuddered at that idea, grateful that she didn't have to learn in such a place. "So what now?" she asked, excitement seeping into her tone.
"First you practice kicking," he said.
Some of her enjoyment faded with the exercise, but for the next few hours she practiced. To her joy she found that swimming came rather naturally to her, and by midday she had managed to swim a short distance. Resting over lunch, she continued after she had eaten. By nightfall she could swim around the small island without touching bottom.
Accepting Mazer's praise with a weary smile, she stepped from the water and sank into a seat by the fire. Worn and sore, she said, "Thank you, Mazer. That was more fun than I had anticipated."
"I'm sure there is a lot that you have missed out on," he said, his eyes twinkling. "What else have you wanted to learn?"
"I've done so much already," she said with a laugh, and accepted the plate of food he offered. "I've run away with a man, climbed a mountain, visited a city's sewers, and even worn pants." She gestured to the breeches she wore. "What else is there?"
"Isn't there anything you wished you had?" He asked, stretching his bandaged leg.
She listened to the crackling fire and considered his question. Then she said, "The only thing I truly wanted I could never have had."
"What was that?"
She hesitated, for she had never shared the desire with anyone, even Siarra. "A sibling," she admitted. "Someone to grow up with, and share the burden of being an oracle, that is what I yearned for when I was young. For decades people came to me with questions about the family, and problems with their brothers or sisters." She sighed. "I would have given anything to have one."
To her surprise Mazer looked away, his expression going dark. "You should consider yourself fortunate," he murmured. "Siblings have a way of bringing pain too."
"What do you mean?" she asked, confused by the shift in conversation. What had she said?
He shook his head. "We should turn in. We have a long day ahead of us."
Without meeting her gaze he moved to his bedroll and lay down with his back to her. Afraid to say any more, Ianna was left to wonder what had occurred in his life to elicit such a reaction. Staring at the flames, she slowly finished her meal as the moon brightened the sky. She was tempted to use her magic to discover the truth but didn't feel comfortable doing so. Succumbing to her fatigue, she lay down and waited for sleep to come.
She slept poorly, despite her weariness. The next morning they gathered their things and loaded the boat. Feeling a sense of regret and foreboding creep into her mood, Ianna watched the tiny piece of heaven until it disappeared into the distance behind them.
As they sailed, Mazer conspicuously ignored the conversation from the previous night, and Ianna didn't bring it up. Instead, he spoke of their journey ahead. As the sun rose into the sky Mazer shared what he knew about the phoenixes—and the rumors he had heard. Born of fire, magic, and light, he believed there were just a handful that lived in the volcano. No one knew when the first had been sighted, but it was said their mountain erupted every time another was born.
With a single life-span numbering in the hundreds of years theirs death from age would occur in a ball of flame, leaving an egg behind. The new chick would grow to adulthood in a score of years and retain the memories of his previous life. As such the great birds numbered their time in lives, rather than years.
"Have you ever seen one?" Ianna asked during their lunch.
He stretched his sore muscles and leaned against the prow. Then he swallowed his bite of dried fish and shook his head. "No, but there was a grizzled old dwarf that spoke of an expedition he was on. Led by a proud dwarf, they sought to kill a phoenix for its feathers."
"Why?" she asked.
"They are extremely valuable because they emit fire magic for decades after they fall out."
"Or are taken," she said with a frown. "So what happened?"
"They managed to find a young bird that was out in the plains east of the volcano. Surprising it at dawn, they slew it and took his feathers. Despite its youth it slaughtered over four thousand of the dwarven army. Less than half that number returned with the bounty.
"The retribution was swift and costly. Six phoenixes attacked the fortress of Draknedur. In a single morning twenty thousand dwarves were slain, and the castle was erased from the cliff top. Since then no dwarf has been allowed to travel past the castle’s remains. Now a small outpost stands in its place, a sentinel in case they return."
"What makes them so dangerous?" she asked, redirecting the wind to fill their sails again. Wincing at the soreness from swimming, she rubbed her arm and asked, "Are they worse than a dragon?"
"As to that, I can only guess," Mazer said with a shrug. "An adult dragon might be larger than a firebird, but I don't know who would triumph between the two. A dragon's breath can destroy most anything but only comes from their fire stomach. A phoenix can summon fire from every inch of their body."
"Will they let us approach?"
The look he flashed her was doubtful, but he grunted. "If it was anyone else I would give an emphatic no—but I have come to notice that your presence has a different affect on those around you."
She looked away. "Perhaps . . . but will it be enough to keep us alive?"
"I don't know," he said, and then squinted past her. "But we are approaching the plains of Adbar now."
She twisted to see that they were indeed approaching land.
"It will be good to be on solid ground again," Mazer said.
Grunting in agreement, she asked, "How long until we get to the phoenix mountains?"
"On foot?" he asked., "Four weeks. The plains are enormous, and filled with all manner of dangerous animals. We will have to skirt them and follow the dwarven range until we reach Draknedur."
Ianna's chest tightened. "We don't have that much time."
"Then we have to find some horses. Mounted we can make it there and back in three weeks—assuming we survive."
She met his gaze. "We must survive, or the hope of Lumineia will die with us."
He laughed as they rode a swell onto the rocky shore. "As I said before . . ." He threw a look back at her. "I have learned not to doubt you."
She jumped down from the boat but refused to meet his gaze. In spite of her earlier promise to share with him, she had still not revealed the truth of her farsight, or their son. Guilt and uncertainty assailed her as she stooped to gather her pack and join Mazer. As she did, a grim question remained in the forefront of her thoughts.
But what if I am the one who doubts . . .
Chapter 23: The Heart of Fire
During the next two weeks Ianna thought often of Teardrop Island. They had been fortunate to find a group of travelers willing to trade a pair of old horses for some blacksmith work, but it had been one of the few positives in their journey. Heavy rains, wild animals, and even bandits forced them into time-consuming delays. By the time they had reached the ruins of Draknedur they were exhausted.
Unwilling to risk a repeat of what happened in Griffin, Ianna waited outside while Mazer entered the outpost. Wrapping herself in a cloak to ward off the chill, Ianna rested in the shadows of an ancient tree within sight of the tower.
Built onto a shelf of rock halfway up the mountain, it was obvious that Draknedur would have been impregnable. A single twisting path turned back on itself as it wound its way to the valley floor. As they had ascended it, they had passed the stunted remains of gates and battlements.
Stretching for a mile back and twice that to the side, the shelf had allowed the citadel to cling to the mountainside with impunity—but she doubted the dwarven architects had envisioned a firebird assault.
Exploded stones and rock littered the small plateau. Overgrown by the tall pine trees that blanketed the mountain range, they were all that had endured. In its place a single tower had been constructed. Built a dozen paces away from the back cliff its walls were four times as thick as normal. A pair of arches spanned from the upper levels directly into the mountain, providing quick egress in case of attack.
As with anything made by dwarven hands the outpost of Draknedur was purpose built, but it still seemed a shadow of its former glory. Rising above the forest that had reclaimed the space, the single tower looked small and weak, as if bearing testament to the foolishness of provoking the firebirds.
Ianna felt a chill as her eyes rose to the scars on the cliff above it. Gouged and blackened, stones the size of houses had been rent from the mountainside. Raining down on the ancient fortress they would have shattered walls, flattened defenses, and crushed any unfortunate defenders caught in their path. The cliff was pitted with hundreds of the massive holes.
In her mind's eye Ianna saw the hail of deadly rain cascade onto the ancient fortress, tearing through it as if it were a child's paper toy. Dwarves ran for cover, but there was nothing strong enough to stop the punishing stones from above—or the fire from the sides.
Raging fire had poured into the gaps the boulders had created, burning so hot that stone and steel had melted. Giant wings and claws tore at the remaining walls, overcome with a desire for vengeance, sending an inferno exploding through the corridors and tunnels beneath it.
Ianna had no doubt that even the sturdy dwarves would have felt the clawing grasp of terror. She shuddered and looked away from the reminder of what an enraged firebird could do. Would she end up like the dwarves of Draknedur? Burnt to ash and left to the mercy of time? Crawling up her spine the sense of dread twisted into fear—but a rush of anger overpowered them both.
Why had her farsight begun to fracture now? It was infuriating to feel so helpless. She had attempted scouring the future for the best way to approach the phoenixes, but the effort had proved in vain. Each time her vision had fractured into different times. She did her best to hide her mounting worry behind a smile, but Mazer's sharp eyes had reflected suspicion the last time she'd said there was nothing new.
Was it too late to tell the truth? Would he be angry enough to leave her? She shivered and drew her cloak tighter about her body. She couldn't bring herself to imagine that possibility, but after their conversation about siblings he'd been more reserved and taciturn. Despite the risk, she felt the compulsion to tell it. Feeling like it was threatening to burst inside her, she recognized that at some point it would have to be shared.
She heard the faint sounds of approaching footsteps and rose to her feet. She tried to console herself to the fact that if Mazer left her now he wouldn't have to face the firebirds. A moment later he appeared astride a fresh horse. Leading a second one that bore sacks of foodstuffs, he came to a halt next to her hide and dismounted.
"It took the last of our coin, but I managed to trade our other mounts and restock our supplies," he said, nodding in satisfaction.
Her nerve failed her. Smiling at him, she replied, "Let's get going then. We have a week of riding before we reach the volcano."
His eyes tightened, but he did not voice his doubt. Avoiding his gaze, she mounted and guided her horse back to the trail. In silence, they descended to the valley. Throughout the next few days she found several excuses as to why she didn't tell him the truth, but none lasted long. Pouring her frustration into the journey, she set a blistering pace across the plains.
Eight days after departing Draknedur they reached the valley of fire.
Ascending through a patchwork of stunted weeds and black rocks they were forced to dismount and lead their steeds up the uneven ground. With the volcano piercing the sky just a few miles ahead, the scent of brimstone tinged the air. Farther down the slope the volcanic soil had caused the plant life to flourish, but this close to the volcano it seemed to poison it.
Passing the black-stemmed weeds that were on the verge of death, they crested the rise and came to an abrupt halt. Bordered by sheer walls of soot-stained cliffs the wide canyon was the only route to the firebird nest. One of the horses whinnied in fear, mirroring Ianna's sentiments.
Shrouded in the steam and heat that escaped from a number of vents the air was clouded with ash and soot, making it difficult to see the volcano's base on the opposite side. A handful of trees had found purchase in the earth, but had been choked by the air. Blackened in death, they were dried husks of warning against crossing the forsaken ground.
Just visible through the noxious smog holes were scattered in every direction. Bearing testament to a tendency to collapse, it suggested a weak and precarious footing. Ianna blinked into her sight and shook her head at what she saw underneath. Weakened by decades of erosion the surface had become a deceptive patchwork of unstable footing.
"Are you certain there is no other route?" Mazer asked, tying the horses to a tree behind them. Removing the pack he strapped it to his back.
Ianna nodded in spite of her hesitation and stepped onto the cooled lava. "Follow my steps exactly. I will check our path for thin spots."
Thirty paces later she stopped dead when the ground shifted underfoot. For a long second nothing moved. Then a section crumbled beneath her. Her support gone, her toes slid towards the hole as she desperately reached for help. Mazer caught her arm as her foot disappeared and yanked her back. Just as she cleared the gap a blast of steam erupted from it.
