SpringFire (17 page)

The water was warmer than I expected, but it still felt refreshing. I let the skirt fall and took a few more steps, then bent over to splash water on my face and head. Breyard dived under the surface and came up again far from where he’d started. I was now in up to my hips, and that was as far as I planned to go.

There weren’t any more dragons out on the lake, and I wondered where they’d all gone. Hunting, perhaps? No, not in the hottest part of the afternoon. More likely sleeping, which, frankly, I was looking forward to doing myself.

Breyard disappeared underwater again, and I decided to go sit in the sand to wait for him to finish his swim. I’d taken no more than a step or two when something grabbed my legs and pulled them out from under me. With a scream, I fell backward into the water, and it closed over my head. My mouth and nose filled with water. At first I couldn’t regain my footing, but the water wasn’t very deep and it didn’t take me long to right myself. I stood up, coughing and spluttering, to find Breyard standing there laughing.

When I could speak again, I shouted, “What was that for?”

“Aw, c’mon, Donavah, you’re not still scared of the water, are you?”

Him knocking me over had been annoying and a little frightening. Laughing at me was infuriating. My being tired didn’t help.

“Just shut up!” I exclaimed, brushing my hair back and wiping water from my face. “I’m going back.” I started to turn, but he caught my hands in his.

“No, no. You’re not getting away that easily. Come a little deeper.”

“No, Breyard!” Real fear displaced my anger. “No! I don’t want to!”

He pulled me a few steps despite all my attempts to resist him. The water was up to my waist now. I knew you could drown in four inches of water.

“No!” I screamed, struggling to get my hands free. “Let me go! Let me go!” Tears streamed down my face as I pulled with all my might.

“All right,” he said, keeping hold of me but no longer pulling me toward the deeper water. “Donavah, I was only teasing.”

“Let go! Let go!” In a dead panic now, I kept fighting him. Water splashed everywhere as I flailed around.

Breyard took a step closer to me and picked me up. Afraid he was going to take me to even deeper water, I tried to push myself out of his arms, but he was too strong for me. A moment later I realized he was carrying me back to shore.

“I’m sorry,” he said, setting my feet back on dry land.

I pushed him away from me. “You know I’m afraid of the water,” I said between racking sobs.

“I know, and I said I was sorry. Calm down.”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down,” I shouted. “You don’t know what I’ve … what it’s like to … ”

“All right, all right. Look, here are your sandals. Put them on, and I’ll take you back to the infirmary.”

I brushed my angry tears away and put my sandals on, then headed back without saying a word. Breyard hurried to catch up, but I ignored him.

He was right about the clothes. Despite the fact that it took only a few minutes to get back to the infirmary, they were practically dry. I went in, snatched my nightshift from my bed, and went into the cubicle to change back into it.

I stayed in there much longer than necessary, first getting my emotions under control and then hoping Breyard would give up waiting for me and leave.

Now that fear had loosened its grip on me, I felt stupid for how I’d acted. Nothing like that had ever happened before. Breyard had been teasing me all my life. Why would I so completely lose control of myself this time? My rational mind knew that Breyard would never let me drown, so what had set me off this time?

When I finally went back to my bed, Breyard was gone. But Jinna was there, a worried expression on her face.

“I’m all right,” I grumbled in response to her unasked question. “I just want to take a nap now.”

She nodded. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Actually, yes, please. I would.”

I bunched the blanket up at the foot of the bed and climbed in under the sheet. Jinna came back a moment later with a glass of water and a pitcher, which she set on the table.

“If you need any more—”

“Yes, I know, ring the bell.” Then, after a short pause, “I’m sorry. I’m just tired.”

She nodded. “I’ll check on you later.”

Surprisingly, I fell straight to sleep.

The time differential between Hedra and Stychs is a tricky and deceptive thing, and more than one dragon has succumbed to its wiles.

It is no great thing for the mighty red dragons to go back and forth between the worlds. A single jump or even a return trip presents no difficulties.

No, the danger lies in miscalculating the passage of time when making multiple trips.

Let us make a concrete example and say that you remain in the other world for ten years. Upon returning home, you will be ten years older, but only an instant will have passed. A disconcerting thing for your loved ones, no? Yet benign for all that.

Let us say that three years after your return home, you go back, and this time stay for five years. Beyond the obvious dubiousness of your wisdom in this matter, there are now, as you can see, two of you in the other world. This is an oddity, surely, but not a particular danger, though wiser heads than mine question what would happen if your two selves met up.

To complete the illustration, let us further say that six years after your first trip, you go back a third time. It is here wherein the danger lies, for there are now three of you in the other world, and this is too many. Only a being of immense strength and power can survive; all others will wither away and die.

Do not ask me whence comes this knowledge. It is too painful to tell.

~from the lecture notes of Tandor

A disturbance in the passageway outside awoke me. My head felt groggy and dull as I tried to shake off my heavy, dreamless sleep.

Botellin came into the room with an air of barely controlled urgency. He was dressed in the same clothes he’d worn earlier, but now had his red cloak on.

“Awake, I see,” he said as he came to a stop at the foot of the bed. “Good. You need to get dressed and come with me immediately.”

Halla walked up, a large bundle clutched to her chest. “I said she’s not ready.”

Botellin turned his intense gaze onto the healer. “And I say she is ready enough.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Do you not trust me?”

Their eyes dueled a moment longer, then Halla set her bundle, which turned out to be clothes, on my bed. Botellin nodded in satisfaction, then focused back on me, a fire flickering in his dark brown eyes. “Now, please change and get ready to go.” He gestured to the clothes.

“Go where?” I asked, feeling stupid and slow.

“To Xyla, of course.”

I couldn’t move fast enough.

The clothing I changed into now was heavy and made me sweat, but I didn’t care. I was going to Xyla! And I’d need these warm things up there in the mountains. Not to mention the flight to get there.

When I got back to my bed, Jinna stood there, dressed in warm clothes and carrying two packs, one of them mine.

“You’re coming, too?” I asked.

Her face fell a little. “Is that all right?”

“Of course it’s all right.” I gave her a smile. “I’m ready,” I said to Botellin. “Let’s go.”

“We’ll be off then,” he said, then kissed Halla on both cheeks. “Thank you, my dear.”

He led Jinna and me outside, and I practically had to run to keep up with his long strides.

The sight that met my eyes when we reached the front door, however, brought me to a sudden halt.

Twenty dragons or more flew overhead, each with at least one red-robed figure astride. One stood on the sand across the road, and Botellin was almost running toward him.

Kelben’s voice spoke in my head. “Hurry, child. The matter is urgent.”

“C’mon!” I exclaimed to Jinna, and taking her hand, I dashed to the dragon.

Botellin gave us each a hand up, Jinna first and me behind her, then launched himself as he had before. His magic made the air tingle as he sat behind me.

He held on to Jinna and me as Kelben rose skyward. The lake quickly dwindled into a blue-green jewel in the yellow landscape. Up ahead loomed the mountains.

Kelben led the way while the other dragons spread out behind in a wedge formation, much like a flock of birds flying south for the Winter.

My breath caught in my throat. What could be so urgent that Botellin would insist on taking me from the healer’s care? So urgent it required the aid of all these dragons? Was Xyla dying?

“Her life force is weak,” Kelben said in reply to my musings. “She needs our strength.”

The ground below began to rise, and the dragons flew higher. The terrain changed from scrubby flatland to terraced fields to sporadic woods, and finally to thick forest.

I shivered, and Botellin’s arms tightened a little. Warmth spread through me.

We rose higher and higher. Before long, I saw a slash on the face of the mountainside and could even pick out the winding ribbon of the road: the bends, where Traz had fallen.

Then we soared over the pass. It wouldn’t be long now.

“Xyla?” I reached out for her. Surely we were close enough for her to hear. But there was no reply.

Now that we were on the west side of the mountains, the setting sun cast its glare into our eyes. I looked down, trying to spot our destination.

Kelben began a sharp descent, and Jinna let out a cry of surprise.

“Don’t worry,” I shouted, hoping she’d hear me over the wind whistling past our ears. “The dragons never let us fall.” I felt more than heard Botellin’s chuckle.

Then there it was, the mountainside pocked with many caves. Kelben arrowed for the clearing before the largest.

We could hardly land soon enough. Kelben homed in on the clearing before the cave. He’d scarcely touched the ground when Botellin launched himself, landing as lightly as if he’d only hopped over a narrow stream. I dismounted rather less gracefully, sliding down Kelben and hitting the ground with a thud that rattled my bones. I ran for the cave, Jinna on my heels.

Botellin was right: her life vibrations were very weak indeed. The cave was warm from the heat of a large fire. Xyla looked grey. I bit my lower lip. Was she going to die? She couldn’t. I wouldn’t let her. I followed Botellin to her side.

Soon the other sages entered the cave. Traz ran to Xyla, his staff gripped tightly in his hand.

Botellin stood near Xyla’s head, which lolled carelessly on the floor. He placed both hands on her neck and closed his eyes in concentration. The look on his face reminded me of Master Larmstro, the healer at Roylinn Academy, analyzing a patient’s condition by tuning in to their vibrations.

The minutes seemed to turn to stone. No one moved. My eyes flicked back and forth between Xyla and the danse master.

Finally, the sage opened his eyes and turned to face the others. “We must strengthen her. Now. Before it’s too late.”

The others gathered round, their demeanor intent, their movements sure.

“What can I do?” I asked.

Botellin looked down at me, his eyes sympathetic. “Nothing for now, young lady. Stand aside and let us do our work.”

“But … ” I started before Botellin stopped my words by placing a hand on my shoulder.

“You do not know the magic we must do. Your own connection with Xyla will be needed before we’re finished. But for now, let us do what we can.”

I wanted to argue, to make him see how important this was to me, how willing I was to learn. But he’d already turned back to Xyla, so with reluctant steps I moved away. As I stood near the fire, someone walked up and stood next to me. Breyard.

“What’s happening?” he asked. “What are they going to do?”

A flash of annoyance for his earlier behavior flared, then burned out just as quickly. I shrugged. “Don’t know. Some kind of magic I can’t do.”

“Ah, right. The danse.”

“I guess,” I said, knowing I sounded sour and petulant.

The sages began to danse. Breyard and I watched without speaking again as the sages carried on in perfect unison. Traz had a small drum with which he kept the rhythm, and the others moved in absolute precision. Three steps to the right, a step forward, an elaborate flourish of the arms. A step to the left, two steps back, a bow, a shiver, then perfectly still for a beat, two, three, four.

I felt the gathering power that grew in strength with the danse. My feet itched to join in; my heart beat in time. It was as if someone called to me.

I closed my eyes and drew on my own maejic. Breathing deeply of the smoke-scented air, I loosed my spirit into this strange universe. It moved slowly at first, like a newborn foal taking its first halting steps. But soon it found the rhythm to soar, slipping between the clouds and the stars, whose music pierced my soul and let some of the essence of my own life vibrations mix with the ether in which I sailed. I wanted to dance across the sky, use my body to paint my signature in the bright colors of the rainbow. If I sang aloud, the notes would fall from my lips as the pure light of the moon, while the sun would join the serenade.

A spot of darkness, pulsing in the light all around, caught my attention. It felt familiar, like the touch of a dear friend. It moved away, and a sense of sadness engulfed me. I moved closer, approaching with care so as not to frighten it away. A sense of its weakness wafted to me across the ether, and I felt compelled to give it some of my strength, for I had more than enough to spare.

“Come back to me, my love,” my spirit sang with its new-found music.

The darkness halted.

“Come,” I sang again, and now the darkness drew near, and the light all around tinged its edges pink. “Closer still, my love.”

Together, we drew back as from an unseen edge, beyond which lay death.

Then someone else’s spirit approached mine. It was a gentle spirit, full of knowledge, wisdom, and merriment. Laughter flowed like water over a fall, and he guided us safely home with the power of his danse.

When my eyelids fluttered open, I was surprised to find Botellin standing in front of me, his hands on my shoulders and his lips curved into a generous smile.

“Back with us now?” he asked, his voice tender and sweet. I nodded. “That was interesting. We shall have to experiment more another time.”

Breyard looked at me with a strange, guarded expression on his face, as if something I’d done had unsettled him. I returned Botellin’s smile as a wave of weariness washed over me.

“I think I’d like some tea,” I said, and I was surprised at how rough my voice sounded.

Botellin nodded. “I will ask Lini to mix you up something restorative. It is one of her many specialties.”

He stepped away, leaving me alone with Breyard.

“That was … strange,” he said quietly.

“Strange how?”

He shrugged. “One minute you were standing there next to me watching the sages danse, and the next you were, I don’t know, sort of frozen and absent at the same time.”

I’d never before thought about what happened to my body when my spirit was engaged with maejic. Now he’d got me curious. “Frozen like cold?”

“No, frozen in place. You were perfectly balanced and didn’t fall over, but it felt like if I’d given you the slightest nudge, even just blew gently on you, you’d have toppled over. And even though you were breathing, it was like your mind was a million miles away. Worse than unconscious—more like dead.”

I scowled. “You make it sound horrible, and it’s not like that at all. It’s more like being free, soaring through time and space with nothing tying you down, nothing stopping you from doing whatever you want. You’ll learn.” He gave me a questioning look. “When you get home. You’ll learn more about maejic. But I better not say any more than that.”

A few minutes later Lini came over and handed me a mug. I took it outside, hoping the chill air would help clear my head.

I’d gone only a few steps beyond the cave when laughter rang out from the woods beyond the clearing. Recognizing the voices, I stopped short. As my mind whispered his name, Grey stepped out of the trees and into the clearing. With him, as I’d known she would be, was Shandry. They were holding hands, and my heart clenched at the sight.

They froze when they saw me. It was little satisfaction to see how quickly Grey let go of Shandry’s hand.

Then he took a step toward me, a smile on his face. “Donavah! You’re back!”

“As you see,” I said, clipping my words short. My eyes slid to Shandry, who didn’t quite meet my gaze.

“But where have you been?” His eye widened as he caught sight of my cheek. “And what’s happened?”

I took a deep breath. The very last thing I wanted was to start crying in front of Grey. So many things I wanted to tell him, and yet I didn’t want to tell him anything at all. Especially not with Shandry standing there, a look of combined curiosity and embarrassment on her face.

I swallowed, hoping I could get out a few words safely. “I’m going to take a walk. Traz and the others are with Xyla.” I walked past them.