“From those who know.”

  “Fezarn is a name that is revered in Javoor among your kind. He was a skilled tarshel, and there is reason for you to consider yourself blessed in having been named after one like him.”

  “Blessed? You continue to insult me.”

  “And you continue to take insult when none is intended.”

  “Were my parents tested with the tears?”

  Valenahr frowned. “Why?”

  “Were they?”

  “They were submitted for testing, but they were not given the opportunity.”

  That took away one possibility that Fes had considered. “How did they escape?”

  “I don’t know,” Valenahr said. He turned his attention back to the hearth. “They had help, I can assure you of that, and it surprised me that, considering their training, they would attempt an escape.”

  “Fes?” Jayell asked, coming up and taking his hand. “What is it? Why are you asking these questions?”

  “Because I wonder if there is more taking place here than what we realize. With the atheran attacks, we have believed that they were triggered by the appearance of the dragons, but what if they aren’t just triggered but summoned, the same way that the dragons were summoned?”

  “Who would summoned them?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” It was troubling him, but equally troubling was the fact that there were likely other Deshazl within the city who had been freed from their Calling and who were presumably skilled Deshazl at the time of their testing. If they had survived, had they gone to the Asharn? If not, could they still be within the city?

  “I need to go to the temple,” he said.

  “Now is not the time for you to reflect on your ancestors,” Valenahr said.

  “What if you should have reflected upon my ancestors before now?”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “What it means is that I wonder if there are those within the temple who have been freed of the effects of your Calling. And if they have, it makes you wonder why they would remain within the city.”

  An idea had started to come to him, but Fes didn’t like the way that it seemed to be forming. Maybe he was wrong, but he was beginning to fear that he was not, at least not in this.

  “Will you take me to the temple?” he asked Catherine.

  “That is one place that we do not go.”

  “Then let me go with other Deshazl.”

  Catherine and Valenahr shared a look. “He is one of them,” she said.

  “Will they see it that way?”

  “What is this?” Fes asked, shifting his focus from one to the other. “Why would you be concerned? I thought you had the Deshazl trained?”

  “There are considerable numbers of Deshazl within the city. We do have them trained, but we agreed centuries ago that we would not interfere with their religious activities. I don’t want to be seen as suddenly changing that,” Valenahr said.

  That surprised Fes, considering how violent they could be to the Deshazl and the way that they would use them. “Let me go to the temple. Let me see what I can learn there.”

  “Do you think this has something to do with the atheran?” Catherine asked.

  “I don’t know, which is why I think I need to go and learn what I can.”

  Valenahr stared at Fes for a moment before making his way to the door and pulling it open. Fes couldn’t see what he was doing, but footsteps clapped along the tile.

  “It will only be you,” Catherine said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She won’t be able to go with you. She is not tarshel, so they would not welcome her.”

  “And if they don’t welcome me?”

  “Then you will face the wrath of the priestess.”

  Three Deshazl entered the room, and Valenahr whispered to them. Fes wondered what Calling he was sending to them and whether there was some instruction to abandon him. Rather than worry about it, he turned to Jayell.

  “You could stay with Larshon,” he said.

  “I don’t know that I’m unsafe here,” she said.

  “I don’t know that you’re safe, either.”

  “Catherine hasn’t shown any indication that she wanted to harm me.”

  “You are from the empire,” he said.

  “And?”

  “And they are at war with the empire,” he said.

  He didn’t like the idea of leaving Jayell here, but if heading to the temple would place him in danger, he didn’t necessarily want to bring Jayell there, either, especially if her connection to the fire magic would put her in harm’s way. It was better for her to be safe.

  “I think I will be fine,” she said.

  Fes had opened his mouth to object when he felt a surge through the connection to Larshon.

  A request.

  Fes frowned.

  The request was difficult to fully understand, but it was there, a demand that he come, that he help, and that the dragon needed him.

  Within it was buried a reminder, one that Fes didn’t necessarily need, but that the dragon felt that he should share.

  The Deshazl protect the dragons. The dragons protect the Deshazl.

  Fes headed toward the door with Jayell on his heels. As he ran, Jayell hollered after him, “What is it?”

  “I don’t know. Larshon needs my help.”

  “Did something happen to him?”

  Fes couldn’t tell. He thought that he would be able to discover an injury to the dragon, but he didn’t have that sense. There was another reason that Larshon was calling to him, but what was it?

  Reaching the courtyard, the dragon landed.

  Fes raced over to him. “What is it?”

  “You are needed.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “An attack.”

  “What sort of attack?”

  “One that is unexpected.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  As Fes climbed onto Larshon’s back, the door to the courtyard thundered open and the three Deshazl who had been inside raced out into the courtyard. Valenahr and Catherine followed, though neither of them was hurrying quite as quickly. The Deshazl had their swords unsheathed, and Fes pushed outward, sending a surge of his power away, blocking them from approaching too quickly.

  They slammed into a barrier, looking up at him with a dazed expression.

  “I thought you wanted to head to the temple?” Valenahr asked.

  “Something has happened. The dragon needs my help.”

  “The dragon needs your help?”

  “I don’t know why, but I’m going.”

  “Even if it means you won’t find your answers?” Valenahr asked.

  He glanced at Jayell, wondering at her response, before turning his attention back to Valenahr. “This is all tied together, Valenahr. I don’t exactly know what it is, but somehow this has something to do with the Deshazl you have tested.”

  “They have all perished following the testing.”

  “Unless they haven’t. What if they are responsible for calling the atheran?”

  Fes hated the idea, but what else fit? The atheran appeared at the same time as the dragons. He couldn’t imagine the Deshazl wanting to harm dragons, but the timing was far too suspect. He didn’t have any other explanation that made sense, though admittedly, even that explanation didn’t make a lot of sense.

  As he situated himself on the dragon’s back, Catherine climbed onto Larshon’s back. “I will accompany you, if you will have me.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t know what we’re going to face.”

  “You are not what I expected, Fezarn.”

  “I don’t know if that is a compliment or not.”

  “It most definitely is.”

  Fes held her gaze for a moment before looking behind her and staring at Valenahr. “I would suggest that you send your people to the temple.”

  “We cannot enter the temple,” Valenahr said.

  “Then don’t enter it. Just be there. Be ready.”

  “Ready for what?”

  Fes shook his head. “I have no idea.” He tapped Larshon on the side and then turned back to Valenahr. “The empire doesn’t want war with Javoor. I don’t want war with Javoor. All I want is for the Deshazl to no longer suffer from your Calling. You were wrong about the testing, Valenahr. You are wrong about other things, too.”

  With that, they took to the air. The dragon spiraled quickly, heading upward, and Fes thought that he might take them out of the city, but instead, he remained only hundreds of feet overhead, close enough that Fes could easily make out activity within the city.

  “What is this?” he asked Larshon.

  “The dragons have begun to arrive.”

  Now that Larshon had mentioned that they were here, Fes could feel them. There was power flowing through them, and it was a shared sort of power that he was able to reach. He drew upon it, recognizing it, sending notice to the dragons that he was there and that he knew that they were there too.

  “Why are you concerned by their appearance?” Fes asked. “They have all been protected by the Dragon’s Eye.”

  “That is not why I am concerned.”

  Larshon pushed power through their connection, and Fes thought that he understood.

  There was movement below.

  Not just any movement, but the strange and unsettling appearance of the atheran.

  Dozens of them crawled across the ground, heading toward the city itself.

  “Are they drawn to the dragons?” Fes asked.

  “I think that they are drawn by something else. Focus, Fezarn.”

  Fes tried to understand, letting his mind focus on the energy that he felt around himself, but as he did, he didn’t detect anything that would help him understand what Larshon detected. He could sense the Calling throughout the city, that which the Damhur sent, drawing the dragons to this place. It wasn’t a command, not the way that so many of their Callings had been. This was a request, a plea for help, and somehow the dragons were willing to answer. It helped that Fes had done nothing to refute that idea. He agreed that the dragons should help, though how could he protect them against the atheran?

  Within that Calling, he detected something else.

  At first, Fes wasn’t sure what it was. It was faint, subtle, but it was there, buried within the Damhur Calling.

  It was another Calling, though different. Angrier.

  And it was Deshazl.

  “What is that?” Fes asked.

  “That is what you are detecting,” Larshon said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “They are directing these creatures toward the dragons,” Larshon said.

  “Why? Who would do that?”

  “What is it?” Catherine asked.

  Fes twisted on the back of the dragon so he could look at her. “The dragon has helped me see that there is a Calling buried within the one that your people are using on the dragons. Within that Calling, it’s a request to the atheran, a command, and they are instructed to attack the dragons.”

  “How is it that you can know this?”

  “Because it’s done with Deshazl magic.”

  More than just Deshazl magic. There was something familiar about it.

  It was a song, the same sort of song that he had been a part of when in Thoras, though this was not the type of song that was meant to lift their people up, to remind them of what they could be and what they had been. This was the type of song filled with anger, rage at their place in the world.

  This was the song of enslaved Deshazl.

  And he knew the source. It was the same place he was to have gone before, but now he was sure what was taking place, but not why.

  The temple.

  The problems with knowing the source and how to stop it were very different. Fes might be able to identify it, but would there be any way to prevent it from continuing to build? Would there be any way of disrupting it?

  That was the key.

  Fes had experienced Callings often enough that he knew the key was facing the person who instigated the summons, who was responsible for calling on that power, and once that was done, he could then eliminate the threat. If they could defeat the person responsible for calling to the atheran, then perhaps those creatures would not be so focused on attacking them.

  That meant that he had to go to the temple.

  Fes didn’t like the idea of heading to the temple and attacking the Deshazl, but what choice did he have? Maybe he would be able to convince them that there was no reason for them to continue this. Maybe he could change the song.

  He tapped on Larshon, focusing him on the temple.

  The dragon streaked toward the temple. As he descended, Fes could feel the power building around him, more strongly than he had noticed before. The song was clear here, as was the intention behind it. It was a demand, a cry for power, and there was direction within it, a focus that seemed almost as if it intended to destroy.

  How was it possible that the Damhur had allowed the Deshazl to continue to have this song in such a way?

  They wouldn’t know the intention behind it.

  The Damhur simply couldn’t hear the song, and as it wasn’t directed toward them, as it was focused on the atheran, to them there would be nothing within it, the same way that Jayell wasn’t aware of the Calling that was focused upon Fes.

  “Can you hear it?” he asked Larshon as they landed on the central tower of the temple. It was similar to the tower in the empire, almost as if they had similar builders. Fes would have to think on that later.

  “It is unpleasant.”

  “Can you determine the intention behind it?”

  “Fear,” Larshon said.

  “What sort of fear? Fear of the dragons?”

  If so, that didn’t make any sense. Why would the Deshazl fear the dragons? Deshazl protect the dragons, and dragons protect the Deshazl. Why would they want to do anything that would harm the dragons?

  And if the Deshazl were responsible for destroying the dragons every time that the Damhur attempted to raise them, then they had been doing so for centuries.

  None of it made any sense.

  “Fear for the dragons,” Larshon said.

  Fes jumped off Larshon’s back. “Stay in the air. Ignore the song. Try to keep the dragons from approaching the city.”

  “I will do what I can,” Larshon said.

  “As will I.”

  Jayell jumped, and Catherine climbed down. When they were clear, Larshon took to the air, disappearing into the clouds. Fes’s heart hammered, fear for what might befall the dragon leaving him nervous and uncomfortable. If they managed to Call him, if they managed to attack in some way, he wouldn’t be there to protect the dragons. The atheran were powerful creatures, strong enough that they were able to tear through the dragons, and the dragons needed Fes to keep them from attacking.

  There was a door leading down from the temple. When Fes reached it, he found it locked. He jammed his sword into it but wasn’t able to pry it open.

  His dagger.

  Since Azithan had returned his dagger, Fes had barely thought to use it. There had been a time when the dagger was his constant companion, the way that he had managed to survive, but having lost it, he had come to rely upon his dragonglass swords, but also upon his Deshazl connection.

  He shoved the dagger into the lock and sent a surge of his power through it. The lock exploded.

  Jayell chuckled. “You look like you missed it.”

  “I did.”

  “We can find you another.”

  “I don’t know that it’s necessary. They were a reminder of my parents, but I think that I don’t need that reminder anymore.”

  He slipped the dagger into his sheath and kicked the door open.

  Darkness streaked down a set of stairs.

  A fire mage spell built from Jayell and light flowed from her, heading down the stairway, illuminating it.

  Fes took the lead, taking the stairs two at a time as he thundered down them. When he reached the first landing, he paused. He was looking for a priestess, someone of power, and if he could find her, maybe he could convince her to stop the song, stop the control of the atheran. It was possible that they didn’t even know what was taking place. That was his hope, at least. It was possible that this song was merely a reflection of their situation, not one that was designed to control the atheran, to turn them against the dragons.

  And if it was something else, if this was intentional and a Deshazl priest was using power to attack the dragons, then what choice did Fes have but to remove that threat?

  The Deshazl protect the dragons. The dragons protect the Deshazl.

  He felt no sense of power on this level. Pushing open one of the doors, it appeared to be a residence. Rows of bunks lined each wall with trunks staggered throughout.

  “Priest quarters,” Catherine whispered. Fes glanced over at her, and she shrugged. “I’ve never been here, but I have heard it described.”

  They hurried down the stairs and on the next landing, Fes pushed the door open. On this level, several other doors lined the hallway. He focused, searching for the sense of the song and the Deshazl magic, but nothing came. Fes hurried along the hallway, testing one of the doors, finding it unlocked, and glanced inside. This was a single bedroom. A bed with a wardrobe occupied the room, but there was nothing else.

  Fes stepped back out, glancing along the hallway. The others were likely the same.

  “High-ranking priests,” Catherine said.

  “How is it you know so much about this?”

  “It’s not that I know much about it, it’s that I have spoken to the tarshel priests. It was more of an academic curiosity than anything else, and I had wanted to understand the religion of your people.”

  “I still don’t understand why your people would allow the Deshazl priests to operate without any sort of intervention.”

  “In the early years of Javoor, there was more of an intervention. Over time, we began to understand that the tarshel needed to have this, if only so that they could serve more effectively.”

  “You allowed them religion so that they could serve?”

  “We have always believed they were a simple people, Fezarn. Whether or not that is true,” she said, meeting Fes’s arched brow, “is a different matter. Allowing them a sense of freedom has given them the belief in a higher power, and that belief in a higher power has given them the belief that they can serve us—and that higher power—at the same time.”

 

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