Sunset of Lantonne (104 page)

Ilarra blinked and stared, unable to think of a decent reply.

Nenophar continued.
The elementals are pure magic, but of a different kind than belongs in this world. They pull their power from realms largely the same as the elemental, rather than from where we get our magic. They can spend the rest of eternity fighting for control of Eldvar, and they likely will. It is their nature. While they battle, that cloud will destroy everything else, seeking to trap and consume the elementals themselves.

With them near the cloud, there was a chance they could be lured into it. That would destroy them, but make the cloud even stronger, shredding much of the remaining barrier. It would hasten the doom of the world, but buy us time.

By leaving the area, the elementals are encouraging the cloud to push farther out, to try and find them and more dragons. It might seek out the Turessians, who also fled the area around Lantonne. The longer it touches this world, the more it shreds the fabric of fate, until eventually even the land itself will have its threads burned away. This world will die ablaze and the elementals will simply return to their homes.

We face war on three fronts now, all of which can easily kill either of us.

Ilarra sighed and paced, the rain hitting her but leaving no chill. After a minute of thinking, she turned back to Nenophar. “You don’t have a plan to stop them all, do you?”

No. I was hoping you did.

“If we run, taking all these people far from the cloud…”

Then within a month, I will weaken and you will crumble to dust, taking me with you. Dorralt will use your memories to find my fresh remains, and then he will be strong enough to face one elemental at a time. The cloud will destroy him and all life in Eldvar soon thereafter.

“What would you need to get rid of the cloud for good?”

Nenophar laughed at that.
Turess asked the same thing, when he first allowed the cloud to seep through. I would need more power than I have at my disposal. Even with my mother helping, I doubt we could do it. The explosion would cause other effects, but I believe, if done properly, the hole between worlds can be closed in a fashion. It will fester and scar, but it will heal. We would need to convince the intelligence that guides the cloud to abandon its efforts to enter this world by believing it has consumed the greatest source of magic available to it. Even if we managed that, the aftereffects are beyond my ability to imagine.

A thought occurred to Ilarra, and she reached up to touch Nenophar’s nose. “Do you trust me, Nenophar?” she asked solemnly. “You once asked me to trust you…can you do the same with me?”

I gave up immortality to help you, knowing how this all will end. We are well beyond trust.

“What did Turess tell you about this?”

Nenophar pulled away from her, looking away before answering.
He said he saw a scaled god choose to cast aside his mantle and fly headlong into a burning sky to spare the child from misery. The way I brought him to see the visions had him rather…disoriented…so the descriptions tended to be rather abstract.

“So I am the child?”

“No,” came another voice behind her, laughing deeply. Turning, she saw the orc who had been silent for an hour watching her and Nenophar. She had nearly forgotten he was there. “His people refer to mortals as children. To a dragon, saying ‘the child’ is the same as saying ‘humanity.’”

Nenophar’s glare toward the orc, confirmed what he was saying.

“Can you hear what we were saying?” asked Ilarra, realizing Nenophar had been speaking directly into her mind.

The orc nodded, throwing rainwater off of his hood. “I cannot hear the words, but I get the tone and hearing your side, I can guess at his,” the man replied, grinning. “You are one of the special ones, I take it? One of the ones mentioned?”

Nenophar snarled, only broadening the orc’s grin.

“Special ones?” Ilarra asked, confused. “Who are you, orc?”

“That doesn’t really matter right now,” he answered, rolling a leather bundle in his hands. “Dragon, what did you tell her about when she should have died?”

Glancing at Ilarra without moving his head, Nenophar looked back to the orc. “I made up a story, as Turess asked.”

Ilarra’s cheeks felt suddenly warm with anger.

The orc put the leather object away. “We can dispense with that now. Ilarra, you were actually supposed to die long ago. The Turessians are destroying the fabric of fate—I’m certain the dragon has blabbered on about that to no end. This has killed hundreds of thousands of people who were not meant to die anytime soon. A very few have had their lives extended by the war, when something the Turessians did altered their fate. You are one of those, and by proxy, so is your brother. That makes three I have found, though probably only two of the six I am supposed to track.”

“What does that mean?” she demanded.

“On its face, absolutely nothing. You got a few more days out of your life than you should have. It happens from time to time when immortals get involved. In this case, my old master predicted a handful of should-be-dead mortals would need to be alive to make a difference when this war went out of control, though I have no idea why. The dragon and I were supposed to keep that from even being an issue…”

“But we failed,” added Nenophar.

A distant rumble drew Ilarra’s attention the northwest, where flashes of lightning were continuously lighting the region as though it were day. When she looked back to the far side of the clearing, the orc was gone.

The lord of air has found a target to unleash his power on,
the dragon said sadly.
As they become more entrenched, the attacks will become more violent.

“Then we need to hurry,” Ilarra told him. “I have an idea. Stay here. I need to talk to someone. Something you said sparked an idea.”

“Ilarra…”

“Stay!”

Nenophar lowered his head, but then seemed to snap out of his obedience. Snarling, he advanced on Ilarra, freezing with an uncomfortable look on his face as he got near her.

“You can’t attack me, remember? From what Raeln’s told me, it feels like trying to hit yourself,” she said, grinning as she put her hands on her hips. “You bonded me with magic. Your fault, not mine. Now stay, even if you don’t like it.”

Despite Nenophar’s glare, Ilarra turned and walked away, her boots sinking into the deepening mud with each step. The rain quickly soaked her dress, but in a way, it was a good feeling after the hours of delirious agony as her skin had decayed. The dazed state had allowed her to ignore much of it, but what she remembered of the pain was something she dearly wished she could put aside.

She continued away from the tents and the building where Raeln had gone to be alone with Greth until she felt she was far enough from anyone else that they could not see or hear her. Giving one last glance around to be sure, she closed her eyes and relaxed, opening herself up to the magic flowing through both Nenophar and her.

“Dorralt,” she whispered, half in her mind and half aloud. “I want to talk.”

Seconds passed, before something entered the back of her mind like a shadow. “I had not expected to hear from you, Ilarra. You survived the elementals. Good work, that. After this many years, I do love it when someone surprises me.”

As soon as Dorralt began speaking, Ilarra could feel him scratching at the barrier Nenophar had built against him in her consciousness. She pushed back, straining to keep him at bay as she talked.

“The dragon is bound to me, the same way I bound the wildling,” Ilarra told Dorralt and felt him ease his attack. She could sense curiosity from his end, and she smiled, knowing she might have him hooked. “He forced it on me to spare me the pain I was in, but I believe you might have use for this. I am tired of feeling as though I am about to die. Bring me back in so I can feel whole again.”

“I always leave that door open,” he replied quickly. “Drop the barrier that keeps me from you and I will be happy to give you back our magic. That is non-negotiable, Ilarra.”

“He is still strong. Once he tires more, I will be able to drop it. If I try too soon, he might resist me. It would be a waste to try now.”

The sensation of amused delight came through the connection. “I can feel you actually do want to be one with the rest of us,” he answered a second later. “You are still trying to be free of my control, but you do want the power. That is enough for me. All of my people are free to do what they want until I call. You will have your independence, Ilarra. When you drop the barrier, I will welcome you back.”

“The elementals,” she replied, changing topic. “They are in my way. Is there anything I can do to distract or stop them?”

Dorralt’s anger came fast, but it was not directed at her. He snapped, “I am working on that. The Turessian scholars believe if we can drive off the black cloud, it may starve them of raw energy from their realms. I have no idea what the backlash from doing that might cause; therefore, we have not acted on it yet. Stay where you are until we find a way to distract them. It will take some time to find a way to permanently deal with them. Once they are out of our way, I will work on a reason for you and the dragon to come to Altis.”

“As you wish, master.”

Ilarra severed the connection, feeling dizzy for a moment as Dorralt vanished from her head. It was like losing part of her body and made her disoriented until she could look around and steady herself.

Spreading her arms and tilting her head so the rain fell over her face, Ilarra smiled. She knew it was very likely her last chance to experience the weather as who she had been. Once she opened the door for Dorralt, she would be his regardless of what he claimed.

Years of memories flooded her, reminding her of playing with her father, Asha, and Raeln in the rain. Raeln had always hated being wet, and she could remember many a time he groused at her about standing outside and letting herself get soaked to the bone, as she currently was doing. Even the most miserable storm from her childhood came back to her as a good memory of people and places so much simpler.

Finally, she lowered her arms and wiped the icy water from her face, shaking her head to fling water out of her hair. With another look toward the flashes of lightning in the distance, Ilarra turned and headed back to Nenophar.

“We’re going now,” she told him as she approached, and his eyes widened in curiosity. “You will have all the power you need. Take me where we need to go, and I’ll make sure it happens. We will convince the cloud to go home.”

Ilarra, you don’t understand,
Nenophar warned, lowering his head so he cut her off mid-stride.
If we close that rip in the world, nearly anything could happen. Magic as we know it might cease to exist. This is not so simple as you seem to think. It might not even slow the cloud.

“If we don’t, the world dies without question. If we do, the world suffers and hopefully fixes itself someday. That makes it simple to me. Will you fly or not?”

Nenophar seemed to weigh his limited options, then nodded and settled his whole body on the ground for her to climb up. He stretched out one of his legs as straight as he could, giving her a ramp to his back.

Hopping up onto Nenophar’s claw and then his hand, Ilarra made her way up until she reached the spot where she had ridden before and settled between the boney spines on his back. As soon as she was positioned, Nenophar spread his wings and took off, not waiting for any cue.

This time, Nenophar flew hard, offering little in the way of mercy for his rider. They rose quickly, making Ilarra’s ears pop as they accelerated into the sky.
Only fire remains near Lantonne,
Nenophar said, having the benefit of not needing to open his mouth to speak as they raced across the plains.
I can see the lord of water moving north as he creates rivers that decimate the lowlands.