Rising From the Ashes: The Chronicles of Caymin (40 page)

“Your baseless fears that we are evil is what drove Timmin to do what he did.”

Garvan looked at her. “And you say this other mage, Timmin, tried to steal the egg?”

“He wanted to use Péist for his own purposes.”

“As if I would have done what he wished,”
Péist said, snorting sparks.

“He may have had a way of forcing you to do his will,”
Caymin said.

“Did the boy, Diarmit, tell you the name of the monk he served?”

Caymin tried to remember. “No. He never told me who his master was.”

Péist raised his head.
“And yet you question whether we are evil.”

Garvan sighed. “I have much to think on, to pray on.”

Caymin stood. “Pray all you like. You and your god do not change who we are.”

CHAPTER 26

Back to the Forest

P
éist continued to hunt for them all, but Garvan also fished, wading out into the water of the inlet and casting a net he had packed in his boat.

“Fish are good, but it would take a boatful of them to satisfy me,”
Péist said, using a talon to pick a fish bone from his teeth.

With no further need to keep Péist’s existence a secret from Garvan, they took to flying during the day again. Caymin had nearly forgotten the joy and freedom of being strapped to the dragon’s back as they soared over the ocean. But still, there was no sign of any other land.

“I have heard tales of lands far, far to the west,” Garvan said as they sat around his fire one evening while Péist hunted. “But those who tell the tales do not know for certain where they are. And the travelers went in ships, much larger than my boat, with provisions for the journey, enough to be on the water for many moons.”

He looked across the fire at Caymin, studying her scars. “You told me you were not raised by humans. What did you mean?”

“My village was attacked, ransacked by another kingdom.” Caymin heard the bitterness in her voice as she spoke, but she couldn’t help it. She raised a hand to the ridges on her face. “I was left to die. I called out and a family of badgers rescued me. They took care of me, taught me, raised me.”

“What do you mean you called out?”

“I speak to animals. Not just Péist and Beanna, but all.”

He looked beyond her to the forest. “You can speak with all the animals out there?”

She nodded. “I can. Most of them do not speak back to me here, because Péist has been hunting among them.”

“It is always our choice,”
Beanna said.

Caymin smiled and translated, for Beanna could not make herself heard by Garvan as Péist could.

“And other mages can do this also?”

“Not all. Some are gifted with this ability, some can learn, and some cannot.”

Garvan stirred the fire. “Do you know who attacked your village?”

Caymin’s eyes flashed. “Yes. I have a cloak with their crest. It was the clan of one of the other apprentices. His father’s warriors were the ones who attacked us.”

“I’m sorry, child.” Garvan watched her. “They killed all your family?”

“They killed my father, but they took my mother.”

“How can you know that?”

“I saw it. In a spiritwalk.”

“A spiritwalk?”

Caymin nodded. “Enat gave me a potion and guided me the first time. I went again, on my own. I saw the attack. I saw them kill my father as he tried to protect us, and I saw them drag my mother away, leaving me in the fire.”

“You saw all of this?”

Tears stung her eyes and she turned away, not wanting Garvan to see her weak. He was quiet for long heartbeats, giving her time to collect herself.

“So your mother might be alive?”

Caymin swiped a hand over her eyes. “I do not know.”

“Do you have this cloak with you? The one with the crest?”

“Yes.”

“Let me see it one day. It may be I’ll recognize it.”

“What good will that do?”

He laughed. “You’ve a dragon, haven’t you? If your mother is still alive, I’m thinking you’d be able to find her.”

“You think we should go back?”

“Lass, you’ve turned my thinking on its head since I met you. I’ve no answers for what you and Péist should or shouldn’t do, but it seems to me that you were bonded for a reason. And leaving people like Timmin and whoever it is that the boy Diarmit serves running loose is not a good thing for others.”

She tilted her head. “What about you? You said you were sent away for killing a man who was trying to harm another. Is it right for you to stay away?”

“I’m vowed to obey my superior.”

“Even when the superior is wrong?” Caymin had listened as he spoke of his god and the god-son, and decided his stories didn’t sound that different from Neela’s songs and tales of gods and goddesses. She didn’t believe in any of them, but kept those thoughts to herself. “I thought your Christ made enemies because he did what he knew to be right even when it angered those in authority.”

He chuckled. “I should bring you back to argue with my brothers. You make more sense than all of them.” His expression sobered. “But you may be right. While I was on the sea, I realized I let myself be driven away for the wrong reasons.”

“Perhaps one day we will all go back,”
Beanna said.

As the days shortened, and the sun traveled a lower arc through the sky, the weather began to worsen. Caymin had lost track of the days, but estimated it must be between Lughnasadh and Samhain.

Caymin, Péist and Beanna sat huddled in their cave while a heavy fog blanketed the island. The fog had moved in from the sea four days ago, and was showing no signs of abating. They had flown down once to bring Garvan some meat and make sure he had all he needed. Caymin had asked Péist if they should bring him with them.

Péist refused to fly Garvan to the mountaintop or to the caves.
“Some things are for us alone,”
he told Caymin.

Secretly, she was relieved. She liked having the caves to themselves. With the entrance to the cave magically sealed to keep the fog and damp outside, they were warm and comfortable. She sat under the light of a torch, reading more of the scrolls they’d found.

“How did you come to be in our forest?”
she asked.

Péist lay curled up in his bed.
“I do not know.”

“Do you remember anything from before you were a worm?”

He closed his eyes.
“No. My earliest memory is of hunting in the forest, and then bonding with you.”

She frowned down at the book.
“It speaks of the hatching of the
khrusallis
, but nowhere does it say where dragon worms come from.”
She looked at him.
“You must come from somewhere.”

“What of the different colors?”
asked Beanna.
“Does it say aught of that?”

Caymin shook her head.
“No. It does not.”

“Crows are all the same color.”

“How boring.”
Péist opened one green eye.
“From the shell fragments we have found, dragons come in all colors, but I do not know if there is a reason.”

“It makes me sad, to think of all those dragons that were here at one time,”
she said, closing the book.
“Where have they all gone?”

Outside the cave, the fog formed a solid wall against the night. She doused the torch and lay down on her bed. Beanna waddled over to curl up against her under her cloak. Lying in the dark, Caymin fingered the pattern of the crest woven into the fabric.

Something awakened her. She sat up, but the cave was in complete darkness. At the entrance, the fog beckoned. She got up, leaving herself asleep with Péist and Beanna, and walked to the mouth of the cave. Whispers coaxed her, calling to her. Trusting the voices, she stepped out, into what should have been thin air, but her feet met solid ground. Like before, the mist parted just in front of her, only enough to lead her step by step, away from the cave. On and on she walked, following the whispers.

When the fog parted, she found herself standing on a knoll overlooking a broad valley. Large birds flew through the sky, circling, wheeling – and she realized they weren’t birds. They were dragons. Dragons of every hue under the sun – green and yellow and blue and gray and bronze and crimson. Some had riders, but most did not.

She stood in amazement at the glory of them.

“Welcome, Caymin of Péist.”

She turned to find a huge dragon beside her on the knoll. The voice that sounded in Caymin’s head was that of a female. Judging by the size of the ridges and horns growing from her head, she must be very old. Her scales gleamed black as onyx and her eyes burned yellow.

“Where am I?”

The dragon chuckled, a deep rumble from her chest, and geysers of steam blew from her nostrils.

“You are where all dragons and dragonmages have gone
 
–
all except you and Péist. This is a land far to the west. There is no place for us now in the world you inhabit. Our time there has passed. Here, we can live without war, without fear of being hunted.”

Caymin watched, transfixed, as dragons walked the valley below her, their great tails leaving undulating trails behind them.

She turned to look at the one beside her.
“Who are you?”

“I am Ríona of Ailill.”

Caymin gaped.
“I have read of you. I did not know you still lived. Does Ailill live as well?”

“Aye. She lives. You will meet her one day.”

“Why was Péist left behind?”

Ríona sighed.
“It was a great sadness to us, but if we had taken him with us to this land, he could never have bonded with you as he was meant to. We had to place him where he would be protected and safe until you came to him.”

“He was not safe there. One of the mages, Timmin, sought to use Péist for his own gains in a war against the Christians.”

Ríona glowered.
“A mage should know better than to tamper with a bonding, and he should know that no dragon would consent to be used in that way.”

“Enat said he had been twisted by hatred.”

“Aye, that can happen to the wisest among us. Even dragons and riders are not immune.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sadly, our last war was initiated by a mage, Scolaí. His hunger for power became a madness, a madness he shared with his dragon, Tuala. Together, they wreaked devastation on much of the land beyond Éire.”

“When was this?”

“A thousand winters ago, or longer,”
said Ríona.
“They thought all the lands should be ruled by a mage and dragon. They were not alone. Some among us agreed and joined them to depose the non-magical kings of the day. Many of us died in that war, but some still alive here fought them. That was the beginning of the end of our place in the world of humans. They did not trust those with magic or power after that, and we cannot blame them. Not long after, the followers of the Christ began to spread their word, and magic became more and more feared. It has been a hundred winters since we left to come to this land.”

“A hundred winters? And Péist was left alone all that time?”

“Aye.”

Caymin looked around at the towering mountains in the distance.
“How is it that I am here and Péist is not?”

“In the old days, you both would have been brought to Inishbreith to be trained.”

“Inishbreith? Is that the island Péist flew us to after he hatched?”

“Aye. He was driven to return to his home.”

“But we are alone here. We have nothing but the scrolls you left behind.”

Ríona lowered her head.
“It is our biggest regret, that we cannot train you as you should be. Some you will learn from the scrolls; some you will learn by bonding with us as you are now.”

“In a spiritwalk?”

“Of sorts.”

They stood together, watching the dragons around them, and Caymin wished she and Péist could be with them always.