Maylin's Gate (Book 3) (20 page)

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Authors: Matthew Ballard

BOOK: Maylin's Gate (Book 3)
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He shot the general a sideways glance and grimaced. Pain throbbed behind his eyes. "I see you haven't lost your sense of humor."

Beyond the campfire, moonlight glistened off scales of red and gold. Abzu and Tiamat.

"Where's Thoth?" He gazed around the campfire searching for the ebony dragon. A gentle nudge pressed into his ribcage from behind.

He glanced over his shoulder and Thoth's blue eyes met his. He placed his hand on the dragon's snout and smiled. "I knew you'd make it to Moira in time."

Thoth blinked and the dragon's massive head settled on the grass beside him.

He faced Moira. "Can you please explain what's happening? It looked like an army trampled the forest near Dragon's Peak, and now you're here thousands of miles away. Thoth wouldn't tell me anything."

"It started soon after we arrived home."

"You mean after you left Freehold?"

"Yes dear."

"Abzu noticed a...creature." Moira fumbled over the word, and a pained expression crossed the old woman's face. "I don't exactly know how to describe it. A hideous creature larger than any dragon in the herd."

"The creature could fly?" He said.

Moira nodded. "Oh yes. And it carried a rider."

"A man?"

"I don't think so, but I can't answer with certainty."

"What do you mean?"

"The rider wore black," Moira said. "Abzu said the man had no soul."

"No soul?"

"No soul aura I mean. No color at all. The same with the creature it commanded."

"Isn't that unusual?"

"Yes. It's never happened. Well...almost never."

"Moira. Please."

"The dead, Ronan. The dead don't have souls."

A chill ran along his spine. "The dead don't fly through the air or command dragons."

Beyond the campfire, Abzu's head appeared. Golden eyes reflected the firelight.

Moira bristled. "These creatures weren't dragons."

"What do they look like?"

"They are all bones and sinew. Muscle and organ," Moira said.

"It sounds like the creatures are —"

"Skinless," General Demos said tapping the pipe on the boulder.

His gaze shifted to the general. "Have you ever heard of them?"

"Never," General Demos said.

He returned his gaze to Moira. "Do they come from beyond the basin to the south?"

"Thankfully no."

"Didn't they attack you here in the river basin?"

"They did and they have for weeks," Moira said.

"Where are they coming from?"

Moira held his gaze for a moment while the rhythmic chirp of crickets filled the silence.

"We live in a strange and wonderful world," Moira said.

"I'm not going to like this am I?"

A tight smile locked on Moira's face. "Something about this place...." The old woman's gaze drifted across the basin. "The world here is thin."

"Thin? What do you mean?"

"I mean portals are opening here. Nowhere else. Just here."

In his stomach, a raw ache settled like a lump of day-old bread. The visitor had mentioned thin barriers. "Go on."

"Windows to another world or another time perhaps." Moira shrugged. "To be honest, we're not sure. When the portals open we fight."

"What do they want?"

"They want to fly north"

"For what?" General Demos said.

"Another mystery," Moira said.

"So you're guarding this place?" He said.

Moira nodded. "We have no choice."

"Why didn't you send for me?" He said.

"You've had your hands full." Moira glanced toward General Demos whose gaze shifted to the fire.

He found a stick near the fire, picked it up, and jabbed at the glowing coals. "Moira, something is happening with my power."

"It's slipping?"

His head snapped up. "How did you know?"

"I told you, Elan's magic is a crutch," Moira said. "Your body is rejecting power never intended for you. You are a magical being coming into your power. It's no different than a human child losing a tooth or learning to speak."

"I need you to teach me," he said. "In Ripool I had...an accident."

"An accident that cost thousands of lives," General Demos said.

He glared across the fire. "Whose fault is that? You invaded our country. What should I do? Allow you to rape and pillage your way across the realm?"

"Humans have slaughtered millions of baerinese." General Demos held his gaze without retreat. "Spare me your rage and indignation."

"Me?" He stood and thrust an accusing finger at the general. "You harbor a witch among your ranks who feeds on the souls of women and children." Rage flared inside him and his headache throbbed.

"Against my wishes," General Demos said. "She's done the same to our people for centuries."

"Gentlemen, please," Moira said. "This arguing won't solve anything. Your people should work together now more than ever. We face a greater threat. A mutual threat."

He glared into the fire poking at the burning logs with the stick. "Unless I learn how to channel this magic, I can't help."

A dragon's prodding nudged his mind. Abzu. "What do you want?" He said through the link.

"Tell him Moira," Abzu said through the link. "We both heard him."

"Heard what?" He said without bothering to speak through the link.

"While you slept, you spoke in half-phrases and jumbled words," Moira said. "Abzu believes he's found a connection."

"Tell me," he said.

"You spoke of thin barriers and portals."

His dream. What else had he said? "What of it?"

"There's a man south of here," Moira said. "He lives in the swamp."

Tiamat's mind entered the conversation. "He's a lunatic. You can't send him there."

"The man also spoke of portals and falling barriers," Abzu said.

"The man speaks in riddles," Moira said. "Some of his strange phrases match the words that came from your mouth while you slept."

"He's mad," Tiamat said. "Ronan doesn't have time to make sense of a madman's words."

"Do you remember anything from your dreams?" Moira said.

How could he forget? "I was in my room at the palace. I had a visitor...." His thoughts tripped over the figure who had visited him. The memory laid just out of reach.

"Who?" Moira said.

He shook his head. "I don't remember any details about the visitor, but I recall the conversation."

"What happened?"

"The visitor called me Elduin and said the barriers were too thin and agents were among us."

"The creatures coming through the portal," Abzu said.

Moira glared across the campfire. "You don't know that."

"The visitor said I should find the Seeker in the next world," he said.

Moira's eyebrows raised. "The Seeker?"

He nodded. "The Seeker can teach me about my power. I can find him in the Tower of Souls. The visitor said 'both our worlds depend on it'."

"Who is the Seeker and where is the Tower of Souls?" Tiamat said.

"The visitor said I should open Maylin's Gate. He told me to find the Tree of Life. Zeke could help me." He poked the stick into the embers sending a shower of sparks skyward. "As if I could just snap my fingers and make that happen."

"Zeke must be the man in the swamp," Abzu said.

"I don't doubt the man holds important information," Tiamat said. "But, it's nonsensical. Which of his words can you trust?"

"His soul thread was different than other humans," Abzu said. "That must mean something."

"Different? How?" He said.

"The man's soul thread is purple," Moira said. "What's most odd is that the man seemed neither surprised nor frightened when we found him in the swamp."

"What does a purple soul thread mean?" He said.

"It could be his mental state," Moira said.

"Ramblings," Tiamat said. "He spoke of doorways, shrines, portals, and some nonsense about the Keeper."

Ronan's flesh crawled and he jerked his head in Tiamat's direction. "What did you say?"

"The Keeper?" Tiamat said.

His mouth hung open. "Yes. What about the Keeper?"

"He said something about waiting until time forgot the Keeper," Tiamat said.

"Is something wrong dear?" Moira's gaze softened.

"The last words the visitor spoke to me." His words came out low and rough. "The visitor said, 'Please Keeper. Don't abandon me."

Silence hung heavy over the campsite for a long minute.

"Moira, can you teach me how to build a portal?"

"I would if I could," Moira said.

He nodded his gaze drifting to the fire. "I need to find this man. Can you take me to him?"

"I'll take him," Thoth said without hesitation.

He rested his palm on the dragon's snout. "Thank you."

Smoke curled from the dragon's nostrils and a deep purr came from Thoth's chest.

He turned his gaze on General Demos across the campfire. "You've been awfully quiet. What do you think?"

General Demos sighed and let loose a puff of tobacco smoke. "I think this world a far more complicated place than I'd ever imagined."

He smiled. "You kept your end of the bargain and I won't ask you to travel into the swamp. You're free to stay here with Moira and the dragons."

"This place calls me." The general glanced south over the river basin. "My part here isn't done. I'll see it through. If what Moira says is true, our people will need to work together."

"Moira, how far to the swamp?" He said.

"Two days hard travel southward."

"One and a half," Thoth said.

A wave of exhaustion settled over him like a pair of shackles. How had his life come to this? Could he endure the weight of the world on his shoulders? Of two worlds? His thoughts drifted to Rika and their unborn child. He would do it. He had to. Grabbing his leather pack he stood and faced General Demos. "Rest. We leave at first light."

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Death Bed

 

Danielle stood over the sickbed and stared at Aren’s body.

Red blisters, oozing puss, and congealing blood twisted the sorcerer’s face into a mask of horror. Aren’s breathing came in slow desperate pulls. Each sounded like a supreme effort.

Despite the pain Aren had inflicted, her heart ached. No one deserved a slow agonizing death.

Catalin appeared beside her and turned red puffy eyes on Aren. “Did you bring the antidote?”

Her shoulders sagged and she faced Brees’s sister. “There was none to bring.” She reached for Catalin’s hands and held them tight. “I’m truly sorry.”

“Brees told me what happened in your country. I guess…I hoped….” Catalin’s shoulders sagged.

“If I could do anything for him, I would,” she said.

“I know Aren wasn’t a nice man at the end.” Tears formed in Catalin’s eyes. “I choose not to see him that way.” A thin smile touched Catalin’s face. “I think of the happy little boy who left for Zen all those years ago.”

She pulled Catalin into an embrace. “I’m sorry Catalin. I truly am.”

Catalin spoke through broken sobs. “He wasn’t always so mean you know. Aren had a kind heart when he left Mara. He was a good boy.”

“How old were you when he left?”

“Six. Brees was eight at the time,” Catalin said. “We both looked up to Aren.”

“Where’s Brees now?”

Catalin pulled away and eased into the chair beside Aren’s bed. “He left for Zen the day before Aren came home.”

“How long ago?”

“Three days past,” Catalin said.

Three days? She’d left Meranthia just a few hours after him and Keely. “You stayed here? Why?”

“Mara’s my home. I can’t leave.” Her shoulders sagged. “At least not yet. We had many friends and a few are still living. They need me.”

“Catalin, can I ask you something about Brees?” She pulled a chair beside Catalin and sat perched on the edge.

Catalin nodded.

“Brees left Meranthia without saying a word to anybody,” she said. “We had grown…close. As friends I mean. Did he say why he was in such a hurry to come back to Mara?”

Catalin’s brow furrowed. “No. He seemed agitated, but I thought it was because I wouldn’t go with him.”

“Did he do anything while he was in town? Maybe someone he visited?”

“I don’t know everywhere he went of course.” Catalin’s gaze drifted to the ceiling as if trying to shake loose a memory. “He went through some of father’s things which is unusual.”

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