FireDrake (22 page)

Conflagration to save a nation

Thrice promised

The unexpected vow

Two will fly into forgotten realms

To fulfill the here and now

The vow to king

Prince and sire

Fulfilled five-fold

With untold fire

Flame rediscovered

Shared and passed

Kindled against evil

Magic meant to last

The Drake of Fire

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Reborn and discovered

Partners in life

A weapon uncovered

Against the dark

Wield your purging flame

Judge with your heart

Live up to your Name

As he spoke the last word, Drake felt a tingling sensation in his palms that sizzled down his fingers. Little plumes of smoke drifted upward from the points where each fingertip touched the scroll. In those same places, the paper browned as if heated by open flame and Drake felt heat pool in his fingertips.

“What is this?” Drake looked from his fingers to the scorched page.

“Control your fire, son of Draco, or you will set my hall ablaze with your magic.”

Gryffid chuckled, making light of something that set Drake on his ear.

“I’m no mage. I have no power.” He set the missive carefully on the table.

“Ah, there you are wrong, my young friend.”

“You speak in riddles, old man.” Drake felt his anger rising. Anger and something else, even more troubling—the tingling energy that somehow burned the paper. “I have never been able to use magic. The Jinn tried to teach me, but it was no use.”

“But you always felt it there…just beyond your reach.” Gryffid’s eyes pinned Drake to the spot. “Didn’t you?” he barked. “When the Jinn troubadours used their magic to sway people with their song, you felt the sting, the effervescence of it against your own.”

Gryffid looked at him with knowing eyes. “It’s how the Jinn teach each other. How one mage schools another. Untrained magic will always rise to either caress or condemn its elders. Perhaps that’s part of the reason you clashed so often with your blood-father.”

“Is nothing unknown to you?” Drake’s head was spinning.

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Gryffid grinned, throwing him a half-lidded look over one shoulder. It was neither a friendly glance, nor a combative one, but it spoke of…secrets.

“I have watched you. All of you.” Gryffid reached out to include Krysta and Mace.

“I knew sooner or later, separately or together, each of you would find your way to my island. When that part of the riddle was shown to me, I made it my business to watch you each from afar. Very entertaining, I might add.” Gryffid winked at Drake, still smiling.

Drake felt something cold crawl up his spine. Some spymaster he was. If the wizard was to be believed, he’d been spied upon his entire life and never been the wiser.

“You, Sir Drake, son of Declan, grandson of Darius, are also the son, many times removed, of my old friend, the wizard Draco. His magic runs true in you, though it has lain dormant in your forebears for many centuries. Your grandfather Darius was the first of your line to be chosen as a dragon’s knight. It was his mother that was descended of wizards. She was a healer of some renown in her native land, but she left to marry a two dashing young knights named Elias and Zach. They lived in one of the outlying Lairs, I believe.”

Drake sat heavily. This was all starting to sound eerily plausible. “My great-grandmother, Delia.” He paused, thinking back. “They say she could bespeak dragons.”

Gryffid nodded. “And heal them too, of small wounds, at least. But her true gift was something quite different. Something she denied out of fear. She was a Firedrake, as are you.” The wizard chuckled. “Oh, how I laughed at the irony when your parents named you.”

“I’m glad someone is enjoying this,” Krysta, bless her heart, interrupted the wizard.

“What exactly is a Firedrake?”

“A flame wizard. Living fire. Your companion, like many of his forebears, has the gift of fire in a very tangible way. Is it any wonder his dragon partner is the color of glowing embers? Or his father’s the color of the flaming sun? Darius’s dragon partner was the red-gold of an inferno. It’s rather poetic, actually.” Gryffid seemed to enjoy his moment of revelation.

“What has Jenet got to do with this?” Drake’s concern shifted to his beloved sister.

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“Quite a bit, actually. I believe those three dragons sensed the hidden blaze in you and your forefathers. You have flame in common. And I believe—” Gryffid turned to watch Jenet enter the great hall at the far end, “—your dragon sister will be key in helping you find your fire. Though from what I’ve just seen, it is much closer to the surface in you than it was in any of your recent ancestors. Must be all that time spent among the Jinn mages.”

“Wait. The Jinn really do have mages?” Mace asked from across the table.

Krysta shrugged. “Some. It’s a closely held secret—” she shot a disgusted look at the wizard, “—but many Jinn minstrels have the ability to influence people with their music.

If you’d asked me last week I would’ve thought Drake of the Five Lands one of the more magically talented of the Jinn troubadours, judging by his accomplishments, but now you say his magic isn’t in his music?”

Gryffid tilted his head, considering. “Not entirely. Young Drake is descended of wizards and therefore some of our magic flows through him no matter what he does. I wouldn’t say though, that Draco ever had musical leanings. Whatever musical talent Drake has is purely natural. I surmise his magic may have risen to flow with that of his teachers, though it could find no real expression in song. No, his brand of magic needs flame to express itself.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Only to his enemies.” Gryffid’s gaze sharpened. “Which leads to why he is here. I can set you on the path, Drake, with Jenet’s help. Together you will rediscover the secret of your heritage and perhaps teach your blood-father a thing or two when you return home, eh?” The wizard’s expression turned amused once more.

Jenet neared and sat behind Drake, all but cocooning him with her sinuous length twined at his back. Her head loomed over the table, then settled at his side while Drake reached up to rub her brow ridges. He was glad of her presence. She comforted him. She was his anchor in the swirling mass of uncertainty the wizard had stirred.

“Are you all right?”

“Did you listen in? Did you hear what he said?”

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“I heard.”

“And?”

“And I think he’s right. There’s always been something different about you. And
about Papa Dec. I didn’t realize it at first, but after knowing other humans, I can say
whatever it is, it isn’t present with anyone but you. And maybe a few of the Jinn.”
Jenet blinked her jeweled eyes at Krysta.
“It’s magic, Drake. Only with you and Papa Dec, it
feels so familiar, I almost didn’t notice it.”

“It feels like fire,” Gryffid cut in, clearly eavesdropping once again on a private conversation. “Doesn’t it, little one?”

Jenet’s head rose sharply to regard the man. She blinked once.
“It does.”

“Good. We can work with that. But for now⎯” Gryffid turned back to the other two who sat at his table, “⎯I wonder why you two are here.” His mood turned pensive.

“I suppose Herorthor’s actions play into your destiny somehow.” He gazed at Krysta searchingly. “You liked dragons before, but now you can bespeak them. That will change things. You may be able to put your skills to good use in the Lair and in the coming battle. If it comes to pass. Perhaps that is your reason for being here.” Gryffid raised one eyebrow in her direction. “But you⎯” he turned to Mace, “⎯puzzle me.”

“That is not my intent, sir.”

Gryffid laughed at Mace’s steadfast tone. “Oh, I believe you, Sir Knight. You’ve always played by the rules. You’ve worked hard to earn your place and you deserve it, but you’ve left joy behind somewhere. I think perhaps your new companions will teach you where to find it again though, so not to worry.”

“I wasn’t worried.” Mace’s dry tone wasn’t lost on anyone. He was clearly uncomfortable with the wizard’s scrutiny.

Gryffid sighed. “Ah, well, I will ponder your presence here, Sir Mace. I like puzzles and you represent a fine one. Now…” he turned to address Jenet, “…I assume you’ve checked William over from head to toe and are satisfied he is the boy you knew.”

“I don’t understand how, but it is Wil, just older.”

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“Oh, that’s easy.” Gryffid waved one hand in a negligent motion. “I accelerated time.

Or rather, I let a bit of it catch up. This island is my refuge, but even a wizard cannot live forever. So when I went into exile, I slowed time on this island. I have lived only a few decades while centuries have passed in the outside world. When I sent for Wil, I let time flow again—just a bit faster than it does outside my island’s boundaries so we would have more time together. Still, it’s barely enough, but it will have to suffice.”

“Time to do what, exactly?” Krysta asked.

Gryffid sat back. “To train him, of course. Wil has a destiny unlike any of his brothers. He will rule a far-off land, though I haven’t told him this. I didn’t want to burden him with the weight of his destiny. But I tell you now, so you’ll understand my reasons for taking him.”

“Nothing excuses kidnapping a boy and mortally wounding two dragons and knights,” Mace pointed out in his quiet way.

“My apologies.” Gryffid looked troubled as his eyes met Drake’s. “I am truly sorry for what the hirelings did to effect Wil’s capture. It was never my intent to harm anyone, especially not your fathers or their dragon partners. I hope you will accept my deepest regrets.”

“If any of them die as a result of your meddling—”

Drake didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence. Gryffid held up one hand, forestalling his angry words. “I can assure you, they are all well. Ren and Lilla made it to the Border Lair and were treated for their injuries. They will fly back to the castle shortly for reunion with Declan, Arlis and your mother. Oh, and you should know, I turned time to flow naturally once more on this island. You won’t suffer the same effects of crossing my time barrier when you fly away from here. The outside world will not have aged much from when you left it and none of your family, Drake, suffered permanent injury, though it was a close thing.”

“You’d better be telling the truth,” Krysta warned.

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“I have no reason to lie. Even if Drake here knew the full extent of his magic and how to wield it, he still could not damage me. He has only an echo of Draco’s power, while I am a wizard.” No conceit filled his words, just simple truth.

For the first time, Drake laughed at the absurdity of it all. There he was, sitting at a wizard’s table, chatting. There weren’t supposed to be any wizards left in the world.

They’d all been killed or exiled after the wars they caused. But now, here was one of the ancient ones, still meddling in the affairs of man. Drake wondered how many others were still out there, quietly plotting. It was a frightening thought.

Everyone was watching him, but Drake couldn’t fight off either the laughter or the fear. Relaxing back in his chair, he reached out for Jenet, the warm, reassuring heat of her grounding him.

“I’m sorry. This all just strikes me as odd. The youngster we were sent to retrieve is now a man. I’m suddenly a mage, sitting having a chat with a wizard.”

“Put like that,” Krysta said with a rueful chuckle, “it is a bit much.”

Only Mace didn’t smile of those seated around the table.

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There was a bustle at the large doorway and moments later a striking woman entered the hall. She was stripping off her gloves as she approached with a wide smile on her lovely face.

“Ah, they’ve come then. Welcome, all of you!”

Gryffid stood and kissed the lady’s cheek in greeting. “Let me introduce my granddaughter, Gwen. Gwen, this is Krysta, Drake and Mace. The beautiful lady behind Drake is Jenet and I bet you saw Nellin on your way in, didn’t you?”

She smiled brightly. “It’s why I came back early. A dragon above Gryphon Isle is a curious sight indeed.”

The men stood and bowed formally to the lady as Krysta watched. The girl was about her age, she judged, with golden blond hair and an angel’s face. Krysta wanted to hate her for her perfect beauty, and the attentiveness of her new mates to the creature, but she found she couldn’t. This Gwen seemed to have no idea of her effect on the men and as Krysta watched carefully, did nothing to encourage it.

Still, the way their eyes followed the other woman’s every move annoyed Krysta.

Her toe started tapping in agitation, but other than that, she kept her face schooled to calmness. It wouldn’t do to let them see how jealous she was.

“I was out hawking, but it was growing dark so I headed for home. Then I saw the dragons in the distance.” The blond beauty walked to the fireplace and the waiting gryphons. She smoothed their neck feathers with obvious fondness as she threw her cloak and gloves over a nearby chair. “We seldom have visitors.” She almost looked sad for a moment, but Krysta decided it must’ve been a trick of the flickering firelight. “I’ll go down to the kitchens and see about dinner. I’m sure the entire keep knows about our visitors by now, of course, but I’ll ask them to serve dinner a bit early. I can see you’re all tired from the crossing.” Her sympathetic gaze alighted on each one of them, ending with 160

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Krysta. A little nod of understanding passed between the women and Krysta suddenly realized the other girl wasn’t totally oblivious to the effect she had on males of the species. Without waiting for comment, Gwen left.