Redheart (Leland Dragon Series) (25 page)

“Kallon!” Riza’s voice came from somewhere to his right. He found her squeezing through the chaos, her frightened eyes fastened to his face. Her hands were still bound behind her.

“Stay back, Riza!” Just as he shouted, a roar exploded from the center of the council members. Blackclaw erupted, and stripped Brownwing from his back with a clawed foot. Kallon stabbed the crystal end of his staff into Blackclaw’s gut. The leader grunted and buckled. Kallon jabbed again. Blackclaw dropped, heaving. The Green toppled onto Blackclaw, and blocked Kallon’s final thrust.

A black paw latched onto Kallon’s ankle and ripped him from his feet. As he fell, he was blanketed in fire. His scales sizzled, and despite their resistance, pain burrowed like mites into his skin. He landed hard against the platform, knocking out his breath. He blindly clawed the air, unable to see past the wall of sweltering flame. He smelled the charring of his face. Then, what felt like a searing bolt of lightning split the base of his tail. He screamed in pain and rage.

He launched himself toward the direction he’d last seen Blackclaw. His smoking paws felt the tender scales of a throat, and he squeezed. The fire died. He stared into the face of Fordon Blackclaw, whose mouth was wrenched into a grin. Kallon howled, and twisted his grip tighter. “Die!”

“You first!” Blackclaw wheezed.

Kallon couldn’t hold him any longer. He tried to squeeze, but his digits went slack. Then his forelegs sagged. He felt himself drop to the platform with the weight of a fallen oak.

“Kallon!” Riza’s voice came again from a distance.

“Chain him, Grayfoot, now!” shouted Brownwing. The council members had finally overcome Blackclaw. The leader’s forelegs twisted, his tail and feet imprisoned by council members and dragons from the crowd. Several dragons had stretched Blackclaw’s thick wings and sat on their tips.

Kallon could only watch as Grayfoot clasped irons around Blackclaw’s legs. Blackclaw didn’t even struggle. He only grinned that depraved smile down into Kallon’s face. Grayfoot pulled Blackclaw toward the cell.

Kallon wished he could follow. He wanted to hear the cell door slam behind the dragon, wanted to watch him recoil at the smell. But Kallon could barely turn his head. Had Blackclaw’s flame really done so much damage? He tried to lift his forelegs to inspect, but couldn’t.

Orman was there. The wizard knelt. “Hold still, my boy.” His craggy face bunched with sadness.

“Kallon!” Riza shrieked, and dropped to her knees beside Orman. “No. No, please.”

Other faces gathered around, bereaved and silent. “What’s wrong with me?” Kallon tried to ask, but he wasn’t sure if his voice managed to squeeze out of his throat.

Armitage appeared with the others, and his face held a dark smile, so much like Blackclaw’s. He leaned toward Kallon’s ear. “I did warn you that my sword would be your destroyer. I wish it had been my hand upon it.”

Kallon’s thoughts were fuzzy. He had to force his tongue to work. “But you came back.”

Armitage sneered. “Not for you, Red. Though I am glad I’m here to witness this.” Armitage leaned back and looked solemnly toward Orman. “You should pull the sword free quickly.”

Orman’s gaze turned toward the base of Kallon’s tail. “He will bleed to death almost instantly.”

“He’s already dead, Wizard. You’ll just make it official.”

“No!” Riza shouted. She flung herself across Kallon, but he couldn’t feel her. “Don’t you let him die, Orman! Do something! Please…please, do something.” She sobbed and pressed her cheek to Kallon’s jaw. “Kallon, you can’t die. Please don’t die.”

He tried to speak. He tried to say her name, but his strength seemed to have seeped into the stone beneath him.

“Don’t you leave me.” Riza’s tears dampened his face. She kissed his snout.

He didn’t want to leave. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t know what would happen to Riza, didn’t want to go without knowing she’d be safe, but he was helpless. He couldn’t even manage to hold open his eyes.

“Kallon. Kallon!” Riza called to him again. Or, was it Riza? Her voice seemed different. It sounded like his mother’s voice. He thought his eyes were closed, but somehow he managed to see the clouds part. They offered a warm glow that beckoned him to fly. It would be nice to fly.

“Kallon!” Riza’s voice was soft and very far away. “No! Take me,” she begged of someone he couldn’t see. “Take me! May vita en dae!”

The clouds slammed closed and Kallon was bathed with new warmth. A golden shower of sparks settled over him in soothing waves. Everything was going to be all right. He just knew it.

He remembered the feeling once before. It had happened while he lay over his father’s wounded body, and had stared up at a sword that was about to swing and end his life. His father had shouted the same words, “May vita en dae”. Kallon had been blinded by a brightness that had sliced the sky and had immersed him in pleasant comfort.

He suddenly realized what Riza had done. He fought against the light, struggling to move, to wake. “No!” he cried, and pushed against the sweet lullaby of calm that coursed through his blood. He thrashed. He managed to lift his head and force his eyes open. “Riza, what have you done?”

“No!” Armitage’s own shout exploded, and the man dropped to his knees. Riza lay across Kallon’s front legs. Armitage lifted her carefully and cradled her against his chest. “No.” He tenderly kissed the top of her head. “Don’t do this, girl. Not for that dragon.”

Kallon was numb. He wanted to reach for Riza, but couldn’t feel his legs. He wanted to shake her hard and wake her, but he couldn’t even blink. All the fear and worry and fighting for Riza over the past few days and weeks had infused new life and feeling into his very soul, had given him a reason to rise, and had given him purpose. He was supposed to have saved her. Not the other way. His shock wouldn’t let him believe.

Armitage lifted his chin and snarled into Kallon’s face. “I didn’t come back to watch her die, I came back to this stinking, filthy place to watch her live!” He thrust Riza’s limp body toward Kallon’s face. “You did this!”

Kallon recoiled. “I didn’t ask her! I wouldn’t want this!”

“You may as well have been a dagger in her heart! You did this!” Armitage crumpled and held Riza with trembling hands. He wept against her throat. “Not for a dragon. Not for a dragon.”

Kallon watched Armitage express Kallon’s own grief; a grief Kallon was too broken to feel. “I didn’t ask her,” he quietly repeated. Orman’s craggy hand found Kallon’s shoulder. “I would not want this. I didn’t even know she was capable.”

“I knew she was different before I even met her,” Orman said. “Love has a power all its own, Kallon. It can do miraculous things.”

“No. She trusted me, and I tried to protect her. But she didn’t love me. It’s not possible.”

“Of course it is,” Orman said, his hand patting. “It’s why she did this.”

“But I didn’t want her to do it! She needs to live!” A drop of pain oozed out through the crack in his heart. “She can’t die! Do something, Orman. Fix this!”

“Me?” Orman pressed his hand to his chest. “Who am I to undo a miracle?”

Armitage seethed. “This is no miracle. This is wrong.”

“If it’s a miracle,” said Orman, “It can’t be wrong.”

A voice came from the crowd. “What about the Circlet of Aspira?”

“Yes,” said Brownwing, and drew close to those huddled around Riza. “Your quest would serve you well if you go. Perhaps the magic of the circlet can right the wrong.”

Orman stretched his neck, his eyes narrowing on Brownwing. “Kallon Redheart, your would-be leader, was dying before you. She saved him. How can that be wrong?”

Brownwing looked from Kallon to Orman. “I only meant—”

“Stop it! She lies dead and you argue!” The hidden pain in Kallon’s heart finally erupted. “I do not care if her death is righteous or miraculous! I want her to live!” He rose to his feet. “If the circlet can grant wishes, I will wish her back.”

“But Kallon,” Orman said. “We don’t even know if the circlet still exists.”

“Blackclaw has had the circlet all along,” said Armitage.

“We could all be wrong. If I do not search for it I will forever regret doing nothing.” Kallon moved to Orman. “Tell me what to do.”

Orman looked at Armitage, at Riza’s pale face, and at the staring crowd of dragons. Finally, he turned his eyes to Kallon. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Orman,” Kallon pleaded.

“I’m only a wizard, Kallon. I don’t have all the answers.” Then he pressed his lips together. “I know someone who does. But…”

“But what?” Kallon gripped Orman’s beard and tugged him close.

Orman slapped at Kallon’s paw and drew up his shoulders. “But you will have to seek him beyond the boundary.”

Brownwing sucked in a breath. “Do you mean the Gold?”

“I do.” Orman replaced his beard against his chest and smoothed it.

The crowd gasped. Brownwing shook his head. “That is legend. No one has ever flown beyond the boundary. No one has met the Gold.”

“I have met him,” Kallon said.

Brownwing gaped. “What you say cannot be so.”

Orman shook his finger at the brown dragon. “It is so. Simply because you have never experienced it does not make it untrue.”

“It is suicide,” Brownwing said. “There is nothing beyond the limits of sky but death.”

Kallon lowered himself before the kneeling Armitage. He stared down into Riza’s face, white as the moon. Even her lips were pale slivers, and he brushed a digit across their failing warmth. His pain wrenched every muscle of his body. But he would not give in to it. Not now. Not yet.

He clutched Armitage’s shoulder. “You tend to her. Take care of her.”

Armitage nodded, but hatred seethed behind his eyes.

Kallon rose again and faced Orman. “Tell me I can find this dragon beyond the boundary. Tell me this without a doubt, and I will go.”

“Kallon,” said Brownwing.

“I have no doubt,” said Orman.

Kallon flew.

Chapter Forty-Five

Kallon blasted like a pebble from a slingshot, slicing into the clouds. He didn’t know where he was going, didn’t know what he’d find when he got there. He didn’t know if he’d get there at all. He refused to consider that, and concentrated on his direction. He focused straight up and pumped his wings.

He climbed higher and higher. The sky began to resist. Gently, at first. Then, with each surge forward, it began to push back. He felt he was battling a thick membrane that refused to let him pass. He closed his eyes. He had to keep straining…pushing…to that place no other dragon dared go.

Soon his heartbeat throbbed in his ears. Fingers of fire gripped his lungs. His wings grew sluggish, despite his fight to push them faster. The overstretched boundary closed in, squeezing him in a sticky shroud.

He was losing. The boundary was too strong. He pried open one eye and tried to swing his head to judge how far he’d come, but his movement only brought the boundary’s redoubled strength against him. He was forced nearly immobile.

His feet paralyzed against his belly. The eye he’d opened was forced to stay that way. He clenched his teeth, and felt his mouth freeze into a gruesome smile. Finally, his left wing was forced against his back…and stopped completely. His other took a futile stab at the air before it, too, could move no longer.

Kallon would have cried out if he’d had the voice to do so, but he could only stare ahead at the sky that still went on forever. There was no way through the boundary. He’d flown as far as his powerful body could take him, and there was no golden dragon to meet him. He was alone. He was dying.

For what seemed an eternity, he hung there in the clouds. He sensed them brushing his tail, mocking his attempt to imitate them. Anger rose up, and his eyes bulged with it.

Orman was wrong! He’d told Kallon there was no doubt! He’d sent Kallon chasing after a fantasy! It was hard enough to wake up and find Riza dead, without having to return to her again as a failure. The thought of having to face Armitage and the others, with their twisted, sneering faces, only enraged him further.

Then Riza’s memory flooded him. She’d given him the very gift of her breath. It had all happened so quickly, so quietly, it still felt like a dream. Kallon was alive and flying, and Riza was dead. Thick tears filled his eyes, but had nowhere to fall.

Why? Why had she done such a foolish thing? Didn’t she realize he would have died a thousand times over to keep her safe? Her life was the one worth saving, not his. He didn’t care if he did die up here, suffocated by the sky that was supposed to give him answers. If he had to return to a world without Riza’s smile, he’d rather not go back, anyway.

His head suddenly lightened. He couldn’t feel his curled legs. His entire body felt numb with cold. This was his last chance to release, to let himself drop to where he could blink his eyes and let his lungs fill with sweet air.

No. He would not turn back. He’d come for a reason. So he met the sky with his one, opened eye and glared. He couldn’t lift a wing tip to push an inch more, couldn’t stretch out his neck to reach a fraction further. So he leeched the last of his strength into an angry, determined glower. And for one moment longer, he stayed.

A voice swept through his mind like a summer wind, warming his face and opening his eyes. He must not have responded, because the words came a second time, with more volume. “Kallon Redheart, why have you come?”

Kallon tried to find the owner of the voice, but he couldn’t see through the shimmering cloud of white-gold that surrounded him. He floated without flying. Without falling. “Am I dead? Am I dreaming?” he asked.

“You are neither. Are these the questions you came to ask me?”

Kallon tried to turn, but the bright cloud offered no resistance to push against. He poked out a claw and it disappeared into the churning mist. “Where am I?”

“You know where you are.”

“Through the boundary? I made it?”

“You seem surprised,” answered the voice.

“I thought I was going to die.”

“And yet you came anyway. There was a moment you could have turned away to save yourself.”

But he hadn’t. He had managed to break through the boundary. Just as Orman said he could. He still wasn’t sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“You are not dreaming, Kallon Redheart. For a dragon determined to know the truth, you are stubbornly resistant to it.”

“I’m resistant to believe, because it brings disappointment.”

“There are worse things in life than disappointment. I ask you again why you have come.”

Kallon was finally orienting himself to the strange, floating feeling in this bubble of brightness, and speaking to a disembodied voice from somewhere he couldn’t see. “I wish to know the whereabouts of the Circlet of Aspira.”

“The circlet has been destroyed.”

No! “How? Can it be restored?”

“It cannot. The same dark desires that have skewed the magic of Leland Province have drained the bloodstone in the circlet.”

Kallon crumpled into a ball of frustration. “There must be a way! I have come so far!”

Silence.

Kallon uncurled. “Are you there?”

“I am.”

He drew in a deep breath. “Are you the one I met at my parents’ graves?”

“I am.”

“Are you the one that was there the day my father died?”

“I am.”

“And were you there when Riza spoke the words of my father, and died in my place?”

“Yes.”

Kallon’s tears welled again. “But why? Why would you let them do such a thing? Why Riza? She was so young, and gentle, and generous!”

“You are young, and gentle, and have learned to be generous.”

“But I don’t deserve to live. She does! I should have died!”

“Riza did not think so. She made her decision.”

“But you allowed it! You could have stopped it!” Kallon shook his fist. “She didn’t know what she was doing!”

Silence.

Kallon withdrew his fist, but his anger remained balled and hard in his chest. “It’s not right.”

“Your destiny must be fulfilled.”

Kallon reared back. “I don’t want my destiny! I’m not a leader like my father! And even if I were, I wouldn’t want to lead in a world where I was only there because someone else died for me!”

A pause. Kallon felt a shift in the cloud, and when the voice returned, it came closer to his ear. “You have a far greater destiny, Kallon, than to simply lead as your father did.”

“What?” He tried to peer through the curtain of mist that boiled around him without being hot, and glowed like the sun without blinding him.

There was another shift in the cloud, and the voice spoke into his other ear. “This force that holds you without letting you fall is a power called upon by humans and dragons, most often in the time of need.”

Kallon turned toward the voice. “You mean magic?”

“Your friend, Orman, is correct when he says dragons are formed from the very fabric that fashioned this world. You have a power that exceeds even your own understanding. The same force that forged the mountains, carved the valleys, and set the sun in the clouds is yours to wield, Kallon Redheart.”

“But, how? How do I find this power?”

“It is already inside you.” A golden claw broke through the swirling mist to tap gently against Kallon’s chest. “Here. It was your gift at your birth.” The claw withdrew. “You know what your destiny is, Kallon. You know what you must do.”

He knew. He closed his eyes. “I must believe.”

Kallon couldn’t see the face of the Gold, but he could feel its smile right through the glittering vapor. “Now tell me why you have really come to find me.”

Kallon lifted his chin. “I have come to beg for the life Riza Diantus.”

There was another pause. When the voice spoke again, it was soft. “Would you have come to me any other way?”

Kallon hung his head. He clutched a fist to his heart.

“But do not fear,” said the voice. “She is only sleeping. You have forgotten the linking stone.”

He darted his hand to the stone around his neck. It was pulsating. He could feel her, almost hear her, somehow.

“Riza waits in that place between waking and dreaming, where her soul has often visited in the darkness.”

Kallon tightened his grip on the stone. “How can I reach her? Where do I go?”

“Search your heart, Kallon. The bloodstone aches to restore Leland’s balance. You have the power to change things.”

The cloud of glitter evaporated. Kallon tumbled, tail and wings akimbo, toward the earth. He fell so fast he struggled to breathe. Then his legs came to life, and he could move them. He thrust his wings to the wind and slowed his descent. His tail ruddered, and he righted himself. He was back in control of his body and mind.

Had he imagined it all? Had his struggle with the boundary played tricks with his mind? He searched his heart. It had happened. It had all happened. He believed.

He pivoted. He aimed headfirst for the heart of Mount Gore, stuck out his front claws like daggers, and dove.