Third Earth, page 11
As the explosion of fire above us burned out, Menneth’s voice rang in my head again.
Our noble and great ones have come to herald your arrival, Angel of the Jent Paths. And Dominath, my Magnus Dux, welcome home.
Dominath greeted his fellow dragons with a display of status consisting of rumbling growls, bobbing heads, and twisting necks. According to my downloaded information, this ceremonial greeting lasted for several minutes. The black dragon didn’t participate in the greetings; her yellow eyes froze me in place. As quick as lightning, her forked tongue darted out and licked her black, scaled lips.
I huddled like a mouse in a terrarium full of snakes. I hated this place.
A big man with broad shoulders vaulted over Dominath’s white, scaled tail. He seemed heedless of the black dragon girl’s emanating hostility. He strode close on muscular legs and stabbed the pointed handle of a wide umbrella into the rock. A curtain of spells fell from the umbrella, protecting him from the raining menace of lavafall.
“Take off that helmet so I can see you better,” the man said to Claude. His deep voice was powerful and sharp, as if used to cutting through dragon roars. “My umbrella will protect you from the falling pyroclast and filter out the toxic fumes.”
Claude, a grin brightening his usually serious face, removed his hood. “Hello, Dad.”
Thayn’s eyes, wrinkled from squinting against the heat, winked with a spark of recognition. “Claude. It’s so good to see you, son.”
Temnon’s grandfather placed brown, leathery hands on his son’s shoulders and smiled, his teeth white against his heat-damaged face. With the ash in the sky, it wasn’t sunburn; it had to be from constant exposure to dragon’s breath. He stood taller and broader than Claude and had dark, shiny hair. A strange armor flowing like chain mail stretched over his bulging biceps and thick torso.
“For a moment I thought you were your brother,” Thayn admitted to Claude. “It’s been years since I’ve seen either of you. I’d almost forgotten how to tell you apart.”
“Too many years, Dad,” Claude said, his face growing serious. “Third Earth is hard on a human. How do you expect to be there for your grandkids without regular medical visits and Maudine’s life magic?”
“I know, son, I know, but I get so busy.”
They acted like this was a normal family reunion. But how—with all the roaring and terrifying stomping claws surrounding them? Claude didn’t even notice the black dragon’s hungry glare or the drop of saliva that splashed on the hot rock and evaporated into steam. Thayn must be an idiot to turn his back to her.
“Speaking of grandkids,” Thayn said, looking right past Temnon, “where is he? He was supposed to come.”
Temnon pulled off his hood. “Here, Grandpa Thayn.”
The big man’s face lengthened in shock. “Great Umnon’s ghost, boy! When did you grow so tall?”
Blushing as bright as the falling volcanic detritus, Temnon delivered a stiff hug while his grandfather thumped him fondly on his armored back.
“You’ve put on some muscle too,” Thayn said. “Your arms were skinny as rope last year.”
“It’s been three years, Grandpa,” Temnon griped. “You canceled my last two visits, remember?”
“I did? Well, I’m sure I had good reason then, but I regret it now. I barely know you. And I haven’t seen your cousin in nearly twelve years. Claude, tell Odric he needs to bring my granddaughter to visit. For a while last year, I thought she was lost to us forever.”
“No, Dad,” Claude chided gently. “You need to come home, before Dame Maudine drags you across the universe by the ear.”
Not intimidated in the least, Thayn chuckled. “I’ll try to come back with you once this mission to the core is over.”
Frowning, Claude glanced up at the dragons, still involved in their formal greetings. “About the mission—why the sudden interest?”
Thayn’s smile diminished, and he hung his head in guilt. “Every dragon knows Third Earth doesn’t have a sun larva, but the noblesse got jealous when the Angel of the Jent Paths visited lesser worlds first. They heaped on the pressure. I know it’s an unusual request, but the regent himself asked me to push the application through. Sorry it caused trouble. Where is the truth wizard? I’ve been curious to meet her.”
Temnon sprinted over, and Grimmal reluctantly let him pass. He found me in my little haven of safety and tried to pull me into full view of the dragons. My fear stoked a vicious stab of nerve pain, and I stumbled at the first step. My legs only hurt like this when my life was in danger.
“Ow, freaking heck.” I shook my hand from his. “No way. I’m not coming out.”
Distressed at my stubbornness, he said, “But Grandpa wants to meet you.”
Too excited to let a little thing like my imminent doom prevent an immediate introduction, Temnon scooped me up in his arms and maneuvered between the stone sciftans. He set me down before Ambassador Thayn Rayden, carefully ensuring my legs held my weight before fully releasing me.
“Grandpa, this is Agnes Ann Cavanaugh, Arch Mage of Second Earth.” He pulled my helmet back, cheerfully saying, “Let him get a better look at you.”
Thayn crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in intense scrutiny. His dark eyes gleamed with intelligence, and his thin lips tightened at the sight of my scars and short, white hair.
Fine. If he was going to stand there judging me, I’d do the same. I tried to copy Sadie’s withering stare but found few flaws in his physical form. No wonder Thayn served as ambassador to the dragon world. He had power that was rare among humans—power strong enough to win the respect of dragons. I fueled my gift of truth with a portion of my frightened energy and searched for a lie about him. No buzzing alarms of discomfort went off. This guy was a genuine hero.
“Well, Tem,” Thayn said to his grandson while still staring at me. “I can see why you’re attracted to her. Petite little beauty, she is.”
“Grandpa,” protested Temnon in a whispered shout, “not in front of the dragons.”
Thayn chortled loudly, his crossed arms bouncing against his barrel chest. “And how am I supposed to avoid them? You’re on their world now, m’boy.”
Yes. Their world. I checked on the black dragon behind Temnon’s chuckling grandfather. She was gone. A tiny warming of relief partially calmed my stabbing legs as the roaring overhead faded away.
“Greetings are done,” Thayn said. “Now we join the procession.”
“Procession?” Claude didn’t sound happy. “Without a security detail in place? Not a good idea, Dad.”
“Nothing we can do about it.” Thayn yanked his umbrella out of the rock. “Put on your helmets. It’s already begun.”
As if to agree entirely with Thayn, a white, feathery philomanth floated down to my side.
With your permission, child, I shall escort you. Dominath wanted to tie me to the base of his horn like he had before in his lair. That is, if your brave protectors agree.
Grimmal’s neck ground as it twisted up to glare at Dominath. He blinked once, then changed form. His stone skin bubbled, and he grew big enough to make Dominath step aside. The tiger’s eye coloring of his skin darkened until all the warm tones cooled to black. Grimmal shifted his weight to his back legs, and his front paws elongated into human hands with long claws. His shoulders and chest broadened into a human torso with short, black fur accentuating every bulging muscle. He pushed off the ground with his hands and stood erect.
The dragons roared in appreciation.
Thayn leaned his umbrella against his shoulder and applauded. “Ah! The panther giant form! We heard of Grimmal’s battle with the bastet from our noblesse who went to support First Earth’s armies. It’s famous among the dragons. At least one of Agnes’s party knows the value of physical strength.”
Lumi hung her head and padded over to me. I knew she worked like crazy to match her father’s abilities, but she was still a kitten. Poor Lumi. And poor me. Thayn jabbed us both in a sensitive area. I’d been secretly strength training, like Sempira suggested, but according to Thayn, that wasn’t nearly good enough. I laid a hand on Lumi’s face, unsure if her stone skin felt mine.
“Don’t listen to him,” I whispered. “Strength is more than size and muscle. I’ll ride with you.”
“Absolutely not,” she hissed. “My job is to keep you safe, and I’ll not let my wounded pride prevent that.”
Grimmal crouched and opened his hand flat on the ground for us. Lumi ever-so-softly pushed her nose into my neck, purring like rumbling gravel.
“Go on,” she whispered to me. “Go with Grimmal.”
I stroked her cheek, and with my head held high, I joined Temnon and Claude by Grimmal’s hand.
“Ride with us, Grandpa,” Temnon invited, “so we can visit.”
“Sorry, m’boy,” Thayn said regretfully. “My place is assigned. We’ll visit later, I promise.” He marched over to me, one hand aimed for my waist. “Let me lift you up there, Arch Mage. It’s quite a climb for a tender miss like you.”
Another subtle reference to my weakness. Rude. A hot jolt of defiance sparked a burst of energy, and I hopped up onto Grimmal’s hand myself. A satisfied smirk pulled at Thayn’s mouth. Maybe he wasn’t completely desensitized by living with dragons. Maybe criticism was his way of encouraging improvement. Well, whatever. I didn’t care what he thought.
I held Temnon’s hand for balance as Grimmal lifted us. Temnon sent his golden magic into the stone below us and broke off a large chunk. He shifted the molecules, changing the stone into a dark metal, then molded the metal into a harness that strapped over Grimmal’s right shoulder and down around his massive chest. At Grimmal’s collarbone, Temnon constructed a little balcony of sorts with a guard rail. Grimmal carried us to the balcony, and we all jumped in. Good thing I wasn’t afraid of heights.
The procession already stretched miles ahead of us. Hundreds of dragons of all shapes and sizes lined a straight path leading directly up the side of the mega volcano, Dauthaz. They shot streams of fire into the air and stamped the ground as the noblesse paraded by in imperial dignity.
Far ahead of us, the black dragon with the distinctive curly horns traipsed lightly before the crowd. She seemed to be a favorite of the rambunctious spectators, especially the males close to her size. Her tail and neck undulated in graceful, curving reactions to each well-placed step. In spite of those soulless eye, she was a beautiful dragon.
Grimmal, directed Dominath, you follow next.
“That shouldn’t be right,” protested Claude. “Where is dad’s place?”
He rides with Vice Regent Kyprios.
“That is highly unusual. And what about Lumi?”
The kitten was not included in the assignments. I fear the noblesse overlooked her.
Grimmal snorted in disgust and took matters into his own hands. Literally. The balcony attached to his shoulder lurched forward as he leaned over to scoop Lumi from the ground. As he stood back up, my weight fell forward, and the railing knocked into my stomach. Both Claude and Temnon threw an arm across my torso to keep me from flipping out of the balcony. Grimmal stood upright and placed Lumi on his left shoulder. I waved like a dork at her and hiccupped. Loudly.
Temnon snickered at me. “You okay? The railing must have hit near your diaphragm.”
“I’m fine. A lit—hic—tle warning might have been nice. I could have braced—hic—myself.”
“Try not to think about them and they’ll go away. Just relax. Enjoy the ride.”
Relax? Impossible. I’d have these hiccups for the duration of this terrible, terrifying visit.
Hot air rushed against my face with each of Grimmal’s steps, as did several bits of pyroclast. I ducked and pulled my helmet back on. I had enough scars on my face already. To my left, Claude stared into space, his face hardened in deep thought. Something bothered him.
“Ambassador Claude?” I asked. “What are you—hic—thinking about?”
“Oh, um, nothing Agnes,” he stammered. “It’s nothing.” He coated Grimmal with an enchantment to protect him from pyroclast and toxic volcano fumes. His expression changed, as though he decided something important. “No, Agnes, you should be aware.” His blue eyes were a mixture of anger and kindness. “Dragons are all about status. Status is achieved by birth, deeds, and political position. Everything in their culture is based on status.”
“I remember,” I said. “Dominath downloaded dragon facts into my mind.”
“Then you don’t see anything wrong with the order of this procession?’
I suddenly saw his point. The parade’s order went from the least important noblesse in the front to the most important in the back. Ambassador Thayn, who ranked lower than any of us in official titles, rode Vice Regent Kyprios, second only to Regent Menneth. To make matters worse, he didn’t even consider Lumi, even though she ranked as a princess of Fifth Earth, since her mother was phar and ruler of all the sciftans.
“Does the order only apply to dragons?”
“I’ve been in these processions before. Dad always rode with a dragon equal to his status, and Tem and I have always ridden close to the regent. Something is different about this visit, but I can’t put my finger on it.” Full of puzzlement, he clutched the railing, and his red armor flexed over his tightening arms. “Has your gift of truth alerted you to any lies? Any ideas about who the spies might be? Vice Regent Kyprios?”
I didn’t even think to test any of the dragons. Not even the black dragon who probably wanted to eat me. Fear really was an incapacitating handicap.
“I only tested your dad. He isn’t lying about anything.”
“No, he wouldn’t be. We need to find out who organized this procession.”
“Why is it so important?”
“It’s subtle, but I believe someone is trying to lower our status in the eyes of the general population. And when the population is comprised of carnivorous predators, well, let’s just say our elevated status is more than a perk. It is protection.”
No status equaled getting snacked on? This stupid parade started to sound like a calculated conspiracy against me and my party of allies.
12
Melted Earth and Frozen Truth
Forty feet above the ground, on my swaying sciftan parade float, I tested the truth. I turned off the streaming telepathy spell, so no one heard me, and accessed my magic.
“Vice Regent Kyprios is loyal to Menneth,” I said aloud into my helmet.
My mouth didn’t hesitate to speak, but a cold chill tickled the skin on my arms. No buzz of a lie and no hum of truth? I hugged my arms around my waist to warm them. This happened earlier, when Temnon asked about tainted magic.
“Let’s try someone else,” I said to myself. “The black dragon is going to eat me.” The chill didn’t return, but neither did any other alarms. “She isn’t going to eat me.” Still no alarms, only emptiness. “Regent Menneth is an oppressive dictator.” Nothing. “Regent Menneth is a fair ruler.” Still nothing. What in the blazes happened to my gift? I’d never felt nothing before.
Confused, I tried to scratch my head out of habit, but my gauntlet bounced off my face shield. Maybe the black dragon’s truth was in limbo, but Menneth’s motivations should be defined. So, why didn’t my truth work on him? I turned the telepathy spell back on.
“Tem,” I waved a hand in front of his face to tear his attention away from the dragon crowd. “Tell me a lie.”
“What? Why?”
“Please, I need to hear a lie.”
“Um. Dragons suck.”
“No.” I grimaced. “Not an opinion. I need a lie against an uncontroversial fact.”
“But dragons…” Looking through my face shield, he softened. “Okay, I get it. Dragons really do suck to you.”
“Not all of them. Just the ones who want to eat me.”
“Okay, uhh…” Dauthaz blasted a volley of flaming lava for miles, inspiring Temnon. “Volcanoes are cold.”
No buzz of a lie. Temnon lied right to my face, and my magic didn’t recognize it. Pain knifed through my legs. No, knifed isn’t descriptive enough. It macheted through my legs, cutting deep into my nerves from hips to toes.
What silenced the truth? Was it Third Earth’s nature magic? There were no magic rings in space—did this planet even have any? I scoured the dragon crowd for the subtle glimmers. Only the sparkling dust of regular magic hovered under wings, renewed scales, and cleaned sharp teeth. It even tinted the fiery breath of the dragons to wild, vibrant colors. Between the magic, the dragon breath, and the giant volcano exploding in the background, I almost forgot it was nighttime. My ability to see magic wasn’t hindered. Maybe my senses were overloaded.
“That has to be it,” I muttered to myself.
When I was ten, my doctor recommended I join a local homeschooling co-op. He wanted me to interact with kids my own age, but that particular co-op was a huge mismatch. Those spoiled kids and their entitled parents took massive trips to theme parks and famous museums all around the country. After following those boisterous kids around Six Flags New England for two hours, I mentally shut down. Too much noise, too many colors, and the constant stimulation broke my brain. I couldn’t talk, walk, or even think anymore.
Third Earth was worse. Third Earth was Six Flags dumped into a vat of radioactive growth hormones and cursed by a lizard-demon witchdoctor. Was it so surprising that a sensitive gift like discerning the truth didn’t work here?
“Yeah,” I convinced myself. “I’m just overloaded by dragon flair. I’ll be fine.”
Except there was no dragon flair in the Jent Path, my magic answered back.
Crap. This needed more testing.
“I’m happy to be heeer on Thuurd Ffffffff.” I couldn’t even pretend to say it. “This planet terrifies me.” Perfect. Nothing wrong with my personal truth.
