A Dawn of Dragonfire: Dragonlore, Book 1 (30 page)

Suddenly she gasped, pulled back, and gaped over his shoulder.  A white figure, like a snowy animal, reflected in her eyes.  Bayrin spun his head around and saw it there.  The breath left his lungs.

It was no deer or horse, but a great white lion.  Its mane seemed woven of moonlight, long and white, and its eyes shone silver, narrowed like two crescent moons.  Its breath plumed and its tongue lolled, blood red.  It met his gaze and held it for long moments, then turned and began loping away.

"It wants us to follow," Mori whispered.  She rose to her feet and pulled Bayrin up too.

"She's scared of spiders," he muttered, "but vicious predators with dagger-like teeth?  Those we follow."

They walked through the mist, following the white lion along palisades of pines.  Its mane glowed like a beacon.  When they fell behind, it would turn its head, stare, and wait.  They followed for what seemed like leagues—over a cliff that overlooked the sea, along a fallen log that bridged a river, and into a valley like a bowl of mist.  Dusk fell.  Fireflies emerged to float through the mist, little moons behind clouds.  The lion glowed ahead, and Bayrin and Mori followed in the shadows, crickets chirping around them.

As he walked, Bayrin touched his lips, still feeling Mori's kiss.  Though Requiem burned in the south, and an island of magic rolled around him, he couldn't stop thinking of her lips against his, the softness of her hair, how her body had trembled against him.  Bayrin had kissed girls before—Tiana, the kitchen maid in Requiem's palace, and Piri, the daughter of a winemaker, and a third girl who'd visited from the east and whose name he never learned.  But none of them had felt so delicate in his arms, a flower he wanted to protect from the frost.  He glanced at Mori as he walked, and when he saw her soft smile, again he felt it, that warm melting of his heart, like butter over fresh bread.

Mori… the girl he used to taunt, whose braids he would tug, whose tears he would mock.  The girl who'd always tag along when he'd go hunting with Elethor, then cry whenever he caught a deer.  The girl he'd scare at nights by squawking and pretending to be a griffin.  How could he now feel this way toward her, the way he felt toward Tiana or Piri, but a hundred times stronger?

He realized that the lion had stopped walking, and Bayrin stopped too and looked ahead.  In the darkness, a mountain rose from the pines, black against the stars.  The lion stood at its feet, gazing up toward the peak, then turned toward him and Mori.  Fireflies haloed around its head.  Owls hooted in the darkness, crickets chirped, and wind rustled the trees, a night music like soft pipes in the temples of Requiem.

"Child of the Moon," Mori whispered, silver in the night's glow.  She approached the lion and touched its head, gingerly at first, then warmly.  She stroked it with a soft smile.  "I am Mori Aeternum of Requiem, a child of starlight.  I come seeking your help."

The lion's glow blazed, like a moon emerging from clouds.  Mori pulled her hand back and gasped.  The light coiled around the lion, a hundred fairies of silver, and it stood upon its back legs.  Its back straightened, its front legs became arms, and soon it stood as a man.  His skin was milky, his beard long and white.  A broach, shaped as a crescent moon, glowed upon his silver robes.  He seemed ageless, his face unlined, his eyes wise.

"You… you're a shapeshifter too!" Mori said, her breath catching.  "Are you related to us Vir Requis?"

The man nodded and spoke with a deep, soft voice like waves and mist and the sound of light.  "I am Aeras of the Crescent Isle, a child of moonlight."  He smiled softly.  "We have heard of Requiem, our sister land, whose children dance in the light of stars.  We watched you fly over our sea, then become a man and woman upon our shore."  He reached out his hands.  "Welcome to our land, friends of the night."

Bayrin took a step forward, frowning.  "If you saw us fly, why didn't you help us?  Why did you wait and only show yourself now, when you knew we were hurt?"  He looked around him, but saw only shadows.  "And where are the rest of you?"

Aeras bowed his head.  "We did not know if you were friends or foes; we have never met the children of Requiem's stars.  Our only knowledge of your people comes from old songs and older whispers."  His face darkened.  "When we heard you speak of fighting the Sun God, we knew that we share a foe.  Once our people covered many islands, but the cruel deity of sunfire burned us."  He sighed and his eyes softened.  "As for the others, you will meet them.  We will give you food and healing herbs."

Bayrin had many questions.  He wanted to ask about the Moondisk, and how many other lions lived here, and how they had managed to survive the Sun God's attacks.  But before he could ask, Aeras turned and walked into the mist, robes gliding around him.

Mori took his hand.  "Come, Bay, let's follow him."  She smiled.  "He'll help us."

They walked in darkness over fallen pine needles until they reached a gateway cut into the mountainside.  Two statues flanked the opening, twenty feet tall, carved as owls.  Their silver wings spread above them, forming a lintel.  Aeras led the two Vir Requis under the wings and into a tunnel carved into the mountain.

Silver arches supported the tunnel, carved with runes of moons and stars.  Jars of fireflies glowed in alcoves, lighting the way, and the air smelled of soil, deep water, and pines.  They walked for long moments.  Mori tilted her head back, gaping at the silver columns, the fireflies, and the glowing runes.  A soft smile touched her lips, and on a whim, Bayrin reached out and held her hand.  She squeezed his palm.

I used to mock her hand for its extra finger,
he remembered.  Now the feel of her hand in his felt warmer than mulled wine.

The tunnel began to widen, and cold air flowed from ahead, scented of wine and fur.  Silver light fell upon them, like moonlight between summer clouds.  A few more steps, and the tunnel opened into a vast, glittering chamber.

Mori gasped and tears filled her eyes.

"Beautiful," she whispered.  "It's so beautiful, Bay."

Bayrin whistled softly.

"Stars," he said.  "Now this is something."

He had been in caves before, but this was more like a palace.  The chamber loomed, larger than Requiem's royal hall.  Stalagmites and stalactites coiled and glittered, a hundred feet tall, like the melting candles of gods.  Some formed shapes like dragons, others like knobby people, and some like trees.

These columns surrounded a silvery pool large enough to bathe ten dragons.  Upon its water rippled the reflection of the moon, larger than Bayrin had ever seen it; he could see craters, valleys, and hills upon it.  The moonlight filled the chamber.  Bayrin looked up, expecting to see the true moon shining through a hole in the ceiling, but saw only a rocky dome glowing with runes.

Hundreds of white lions filled the chamber, he realized.  Some lay between the stalagmites, eyes shut.  Others whispered in nooks.  Some stood around the pool of moonlight, drinking from its waters.  When they saw Bayrin and Mori, the lions looked upon them, nodded, and whispered blessings.

"Welcome," said Aeras, "to the Chamber of Moonlight.  Welcome to the heart of our realm."

He walked between the stalagmites, silks billowing.  Bayrin and Mori followed, gaping at the melting stones, the glittering pool, and the lions who followed them with silvery eyes.

Aeras approached an alcove in the wall.  The stone here was smooth, forming a rounded nook like a basket.  Aeras gestured at it.

"Sit and rest," he said.  "We will bring you food and song and healing."

Mori bit her lip and climbed into the nook.  She leaned back against the smooth stone, pulled her knees to her chest, and smiled.  She looked like a babe in a stone bassinet.  Bayrin, however, remained standing.  He ignored the ache in his muscles and wounds.

"Aeras," he said, "we can't rest.  The Sun God attacks our home and we need your help.  We seek the Moondisk—a weapon to defeat the phoenixes, great birds of fire that serve the Sun God and burn our people.  Give us no food, no music, no healing—give us the Moondisk.  We can't wait another hour."

The Children of the Moon looked at one another.  Their eyes darkened and their glow dimmed.

Aeras sighed deeply.  "The Moondisk will douse the fire of the phoenix; it has sent them fleeing from our island.  But the disk has since been taken, and reclaiming it has failed us."

Bayrin felt the breath leave his lungs like air from a bellows.  His shoulders stooped and his eyes stung.  Ice seemed to wash his belly.  Sitting in the nook, Mori gasped and her eyes dampened.

"So we failed," Bayrin said, voice choked.  He felt like weeping, and it was all he could do to remain standing.  "We've come all this way, and… the Moondisk is gone."  He thought of his parents, his sister, and his friends, and his voice cracked.

Aeras raised his hands.  "Not all hope is lost, child of stars!  The Moondisk is not gone; it lies here upon this island, on the peak of this very mountain.  Sit, child of starlight.  Eat and drink, and we will tell you what you must know."

Warmth flickered inside Bayrin.  The Moondisk, here on the mountain?  What riddles was this man speaking?  He wanted to throttle Aeras, to demand answers, but forced himself to sit by Mori.  When more Children of the Moon brought him bowls of fruits, he ate, and when they served him jugs of water, he drank.  Vaguely, he was aware that the fruit was fresh and sweet, the water pure and cool, but he could barely taste them.  Famished as he was, he cared about no food, drink, or rest, only about one thing—getting the Moondisk.

"Speak, Aeras!" he demanded as two young women, pale Daughters of the Moon with silver eyes, bandaged his wounds.  "I am thankful for your hospitality, truly I am, but our people are dying.  They burn as we speak.  We must bring them the Moondisk at once and cannot delay.  How do we find it?"

Aeras stood before him, eyes dark.  "It was five thousand years ago that we made the Moondisk, forging it from bronze and gold and the light of the moon.   It protected us from the wrath of the Sun God for many generations, even as our people burned upon islands we could not reach.  The Sun God sent many beasts and spies to steal our Moondisk, to cleave it with their axes of steel.  As our numbers dwindled, we took the Moondisk to the mountaintop and raised there a champion, a great demon of wood and stone, and set him to guard our Moondisk."

Mori swallowed a bite of pear.  "Is this demon still there?"

The Children of the Moon lowered their heads.  Several shed tears.

"Yes," said Aeras, "he still lives upon the mountaintop, guarding the Moondisk from any who would claim it.  We named him Ral Siyan, which means Beast of Wood and Stone in our tongue.  He obeyed our ancestors, but many seasons of loneliness drove him mad, and he no longer serves us.  He will not obey us.  He will not surrender the Moondisk we set him to guard, not even when threatened with spear and arrow."

Bayrin rose to his feet, clasped his head, and sighed deeply.  "Great.  Just great.  First phoenixes on our tails.  Then lampreys the size of my sister's vanity.  And now this, a beast of wood and stone that no spear or arrow can kill."  He groaned.

Mori stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder.  "Don't despair, Bayrin," she whispered.  "We've come this far.  We'll find a way."

"There is only one way to claim the Moondisk, children of stars," said Aeras.  "You must defeat Ral Siyan in battle.  Our people are blessed with moonlight, and we can become the white lions, creatures of the moon; we are beings of magic, of meditation, of wisdom.  But you…"  His eyes shone.  "You are of Requiem.  You are blessed with starlight, the light of the Draco constellation.  You can become dragons, creatures of wrath and ruin.  You can fight Ral Siyan and reclaim the sacred Moondisk of our ancestors."  He squared his shoulders and raised his chin.  "Fight him, Bayrin and Mori of Requiem, and you may take the Moondisk to your land, and defeat the servants of the Sun God, for we are your brothers and share your enemy."

Bayrin swallowed, looked at Mori, and clasped her hands.  "Are you up for a good old-fashioned fight, Mori my dear?"

She trembled but bit her lip, raised her chin, and nodded.

"We fight," she whispered.

 
 
LYANA

Shadows and lightning swirled around her.  Whispers rose like wind.  She looked ahead but saw nothing, and her feet walked upon mist.  Suddenly she was falling, tumbling through an endless storm, and she shouted and shifted.  Wings burst from her back, and she flew, roaring fire.  Wind and clouds whipped her.

"Elethor!" she called.  She had stepped through the Crimson Archway holding his hand, but he was gone from her now.  She whipped her head from side to side, blowing flames, but could not see him.  Nothing but storm clouds flowed around her, charcoal and blue and deep purple like bruises.  When she spun around, the Crimson Archway was gone; she saw only the endless storm.

"Lyana!"  His voice rose somewhere in the distance; she could not tell from which direction.  He seemed leagues away.  She called for him again, but he did not answer.

Fly, Lyana,
she told herself and tightened her lips. 
Fly!

Winds blasted her, billowing her wings like sails.  She nearly tumbled.  Shadows tugged her like chains, but she kept flying, one wing flap after the other.  Stars streaked around her, countless lines of light.  Lightning crashed.  Thunderclaps deafened her.  She blew fire and roared.

"Elethor, can you hear me?"

Rain of blood pattered against her.  Faces of shadow and clouds swirled in the storm, mouths opening and closing, eyes appearing and disappearing.  She saw Orin's face smiling, then screaming, then melting in lightning fire.  She saw the face of her brother Bayrin, and of her young sister Noela who had died in her cradle.  She saw her parents, Deramon and Adia, burning in a rain of acid and calling to her.

"Lyana!" they cried.  "Lyana, why did you forsake us to die?"

She howled. 
No.  No, they cannot be dead!  They cannot.
  It was only a dream, a vision, a lie.