The Flames of Dragons (5 page)

Balear swallowed when her gaze settled on him. Her eyes were keen, and Balear felt naked under their look. The Katailan mayor examined every inch of him, in particular his empty right shoulder and enormous sword.

Elyssa leaned back in her throne and steepled her hands. For a long time she said nothing. Balear glanced at Dirio, but the Veliafan mayor was silent.

Balear was about to speak when Elyssa said, “You’re shorter than I expected, based on your wanted poster.”

The single sentence ruined Balear’s concentration. Of all the things he’d expected her to say, that wasn’t even close to being on the list. “Excuse me?” he asked.

“Are you truly Balear Platarch, the man who betrayed our country and caused the deaths of thousands, including King Angustion?”

Balear was too off balance to guard his tongue. “No, I’m not,” he spat. “The man you describe does not exist. My name is indeed Balear Platarch, but I never betrayed our country. Nor have I caused the deaths of thousands. Those actions belong to King Angustion. He took our proud nation and turned it into a paranoid death trap. Thanks to his insanity, we wasted the lives of our finest young men in an unnecessary assault on a peace-loving people. King Angustion killed himself and all those who died with him the day he let magic take control of him.”

All the guards in the room drew their swords. Evidently people didn’t speak to the mayor this way.

Balear didn’t care. He was tired of being called a traitor. He would tell them the truth whether they liked it or not. His hand rose to the Auryozaki’s hilt. “If you attack me,” he warned, “don’t expect to walk away. I didn’t come here to fight, but I will defend myself and Dirio. Our mission is too critical for me not to.”

None of the guards backed down. Balear loosened his sword from the magnet that held it. He hoped it wouldn’t come to a fight. The room was large, but it wasn’t large enough. He couldn’t attack the soldiers on the other side of Dirio without hitting the man, and the ones on Balear’s side were so close that a strike on them would plow through the wall too. That wouldn’t slow the Auryozaki, but Balear wasn’t sure the building could take it.

A laugh rang out, sharp and piercing. Balear’s eyes shifted to Elyssa. The mayor had her head thrown back as she cackled. “You’re just like him!” she said through tears. “You’re just like Balio.”

Balear tensed at his father’s name. The man had been Balear’s role model his whole life, even though Balio had died at sea when Balear was just a toddler.

“You knew my father?” Balear asked.

“You could say that,” Elyssa replied. She had a hungry expression that Balear didn’t like. “Maybe I’ll tell you a few stories about him sometime, but not now. The important thing is that you’re here, and that you brought his sword. That’s good. I was afraid it had disappeared after he died.”

Balear scoffed. “Things might have been better for us all had it sunk to the bottom of the ocean with him.”

“Not likely,” Elyssa said. Her disturbing look got even worse. “That sword is what both Kataile and Lodia need right now. Don’t you think so, Sky Dragon Knight?”

Balear’s heart skipped. Elyssa couldn’t know about the Dragon Knights unless . . .

“Lady Orianna, are you—”

She held up a hand to stop him. “Perhaps we’d best speak alone. Everyone, please wait outside. This man is no threat to me.”

The guards all looked as shocked as Balear, but they reluctantly sheathed their weapons and obeyed. Dirio gave Balear an apologetic look, and then he too exited the chamber.

When they were alone, Elyssa said, “I’m not a Left, if that’s what you were going to ask. That would have been a rude question, by the way.”

Balear winced, recalling a similar situation between Iren and Rondel a long time ago. He hadn’t reacted well back then. “That’s why you wanted to speak in private,” he said. “It was to avoid me embarrassing you by accusing you of being a Left in public.”

Elyssa shrugged. “No one here would have taken your question seriously. All the same, I haven’t led this city for twenty-five years by being reckless.”

“But if you aren’t a Left, how do you know about the Dragon Knights?”

“That one’s easy,” she said. “Your father told me about them. He was the Sky Dragon Knight. It’s how he was able to earn such a reputation as a guard on ships. He used magic to overwhelm his enemies. And the ships he protected never lost course, because he could change the winds so they were always favorable. That’s what he told me anyway.”

“You two were close?”

The mayor smiled mysteriously. “You’re just full of rude questions, aren’t you?”

Balear scowled. He didn’t like this talk of his family. Besides, it wasn’t relevant to his reason for coming here. “I’m not here to pry,” he said. “I’m here as a bodyguard. That’s all.”

Elyssa nodded. “Yes, for the mayor who just stepped outside. You and his people seek asylum, all four hundred of you.”

“How did you know Dirio was a mayor? Or that we brought four hundred people?”

“My guards do tell me things, you know. More important, we see everything from atop the plateau. We’ve known you were coming since dawn.”

Balear furrowed his brow. He’d just met this woman, but he could already see the cunning in her. He put his sword away and said, “You’re right. We’d like sanctuary from the cold and the civil war.”

“Four hundred mouths are a lot to feed,” Elyssa replied. “My observers didn’t see many weapons or suits of armor in your retinue.”

“The Veliafans are hard workers. They’ll earn their keep.”

“Veliaf?” Elyssa seemed genuinely confused. “The stone-mining town? I figured they’d be one of the last to fall.”

Balear looked at the seafoam rug. “It’s been leveled.”

For the first time Elyssa lost her composure. She leapt to her feet. “Leveled? How? Did Terkou attack it?”

“No,” Balear said. He forced himself to meet her panicked gaze. “I did. Rather, the Sky Dragon that lives inside this sword did. He used my body as a conduit.”

Elyssa’s eyes went wide. “Now I see,” she said, her voice quivering. “That’s your plan here, isn’t it? Leave the villagers outside while you come in alone. You release this dragon and level the city. Who are you working for?”

Balear held up his lone hand in a pleading gesture. “Wait, it was an accident! Veliaf was attacked by Fubuki, monsters out of the frozen land of Charda. I fought to stop them, and my magic went out of control. I agreed to help the Veliafans find a new home, but I also swore that I’d never use magic again.”

“I see,” Elyssa replied, her voice reined back in. Her ability to rebalance herself was something not to underestimate. “In that case, I can’t let you or Veliaf’s former residents into Kataile.”

Balear flared. “Why not?”

“Because Kataile is a business town, and the costs outweigh the benefits. You bring more people we have to feed, clothe, and house, yet you offer no soldiers in return.”

Elyssa smirked and sidled up to Balear. She was at least thirty years his senior, but the flirtatious look in her eyes still set him on edge. “You might tip the balance though,” she whispered in his ear. “I saw a little of what Balio could do. Having someone like that on our side would make all the difference in this war. If you joined my army, we could win with your magic.”

Balear jumped back from her like she was a venomous snake. “No!” he shouted. “You don’t understand. I wiped out a town. There’s nothing left of Veliaf; it’s shattered into pieces no larger than my hand. If you bring me into your army as a Dragon Knight, Kataile is as likely to be destroyed as the enemy.”

He took a deep breath. An idea had just come to him. “If it’s a question of cost and benefit, perhaps I can still change your calculation,” he said. “I can’t use magic, but I was an officer in the Castle Guard. I’m the only one left. I saw your guards on the way in, and let me tell you, you’re in trouble. They aren’t soldiers. They’re cowards who hid from King Angustion’s draft order. They don’t know how to fight, and they know even less about how to defend a city. If Terkou or anyone else attacks, I don’t care that you have this cliff at your back. They’ll overrun you.”

Elyssa folded her arms. “A cold assessment,” she said, but then she added, “and unfortunately, I must admit it’s one I’ve made too.”

“Yet done nothing about,” Balear replied. “I can change that. I’ll turn your guards into a military force to be proud of, one that can defend this city if it’s attacked. I won’t use magic, but to be honest, teaching your men will do more for Kataile than having a Dragon Knight ever could.”

“I suppose in exchange, you want food and lodging for the people of Veliaf?”

Balear nodded. “Yes, but I have one more condition. I want the man who came with me today, Dirio Cyneric, to still be considered a mayor responsible for his people and equal in rank to yourself.”

Elyssa offered her hand. “It’s a deal.”

Balear took the mayor’s right hand in his left. “I’ll let Dirio know, and then we’ll start moving his villagers in. They’ll find ways to help out soon enough.”

He headed for the door, but Elyssa called to him. Balear looked back at her. She had a wry smile on her face. “By the way,” she asked, “I understand why you want sanctuary for the Veliafans, but why would Dirio’s title matter to you?”

Balear mimicked her expression. “Because only a mayor is eligible for the throne.”

Elyssa scoffed. “You think the leader of a demolished mining town could rule this country? He doesn’t have a chance on Raa.”

Balear shrugged. He didn’t bother to answer before he left the room.

Iren stood alone on the beach inside his mind. The waves churned, reflecting his impatience. He’d been waiting for twenty minutes now.

At last a light appeared down the beach. Iren shifted to face it and saw Divinion walking toward him. The dragon could fly and be here in a second, but instead he ambled along like he had all the time on Raa.

Iren ran to him. “What kept you?” he demanded.

Divinion cocked his head sideways. “This is the same time we meet every night. Why are you so early?”

Iren seethed at the dragon’s nonchalant manner. “You told me yesterday that you would think of a way to improve our training. Did you come up with anything?”

“I am a god, after all. I may have thought of something.”

“Then what is it? Stop dragging this out!”

Divinion loosed a low huffing sound that Iren guessed was laughter. “Deep down you’re still the same impetuous boy I met in Veliaf,” the dragon said. “If more of that child remains besides your rashness, there may yet be hope for this world.”

Iren scowled, not sure if he was supposed to take that as a compliment.

The dragon brushed off Iren’s sour expression. “Anyway, I did come up with an idea. The problem you confront in fighting Rondel isn’t her speed. It’s your inability to process it. Your body can move as fast as Rondel’s does, but your mind can’t keep up. That’s why Rondel uses Lightning Sight. It enhances not only her eyes’ ability to see detail, but her brain’s ability to interpret that detail.”

“What does that have to do with our new training model?”

“It occurred to me that while Rondel relies on Lightning Sight in combat, there have been times when she has moved quickly without using it. That suggests that it’s possible to train your mind to interpret what your eyes see as quickly as you move. It would take more work than using a spell like Lightning Sight, but it might be doable.”

Iren thought for a moment. “You could be right. When my father fought Rondel the night she murdered him, he kept up with her movements, at least for a while. He used magic to enhance his night vision, but he didn’t have any spells that could speed up his brain. He must have trained himself to view objects moving at high speeds.”

“And if he could do it,” Divinion finished, “then perhaps you can too.”

“That’s how you figured out what our training model should be. You realized my father had gone through similar practice. I’ll just copy what he did.”

“Indeed, though you may not like what I propose.”

“If it helps me defeat Rondel, I’m up for anything.”

Divinion’s whiskers twitched. “All right, but I did warn you.”

The dragon blinked his enormous blue eyes, and the seaside image in Iren’s mind vanished. Iren and Divinion now stood in a dense forest. It looked a little like Ziorsecth, but the trees weren’t as large or evenly spaced. Rocks and decaying logs littered the ground, and the terrain was heavily pitted where old trees had fallen and uprooted themselves. Divinion’s sinuous body curled away into the woods farther than Iren could see.

“Where are we?” Iren asked.

“In one of the primeval forests of Teneb, the continent my brethren sank ten thousand years ago,” Divinion replied. “This place no longer exists, but an image of it will serve our purposes.”

Iren eyed the forest doubtfully. “What do you want me to do?”

“It’s simple. You need to practice seeing things that move quickly. Rather than move objects around, we’ll move you around. Your task is to run through this forest at top speed. You will not slow down no matter what. Avoid touching anything except the forest floor.”

Iren put both hands on his hips and blew out a long breath. He’d run through Ziorsecth Forest back when Rondel had trained him, but that forest had enormous trees and a fairly open understory. This forest was so dense there were spots a person couldn’t squeeze between the undergrowth. Moreover, the few relatively open areas had such irregular terrain that Iren doubted he could climb over them at a crawl. He was supposed to run through this place at his full speed, so fast his body blurred?

“No stalling,” Divinion said. “Get going, and don’t hold back.”

There was no getting out of it. Divinion would know if Iren didn’t give it everything he could. Settling into a crouch, he worked out a path and took off.

Trees flashed past him, hazes of brown and green. He knew the first fifty feet from examining it beforehand, and he effortlessly avoided the rocks and logs in his path.

That ease lasted less than a second as he reached the end of what he’d been able to see from his starting point. A fallen log appeared out of nowhere. Iren tried to jump over it, but he was a fraction too late. His ankle caught it, and he sprawled forward. Unwilling to give up, he managed a forward roll and regained his feet.

But even as Iren stood, a brown wall loomed in front of him. He crashed into it face-first and fell onto his back. Blood poured from his nose in a torrent.

The forest vanished, and Iren awoke in the cavern with a gasp. Instinctively he reached up and touched his face. It was unharmed. The blow hadn’t been real; it had just been in his mind.

Even though he wasn’t injured, Iren still needed five minutes before he could calm his pulse enough to focus again. He took a series of deep breaths and returned at last to his mental seaside.

Divinion was waiting. “How do you feel?” the dragon asked.

“Shaken,” Iren admitted. “What happened?”

“You ran into a tree.”

“Thanks. I mean, why did it kick me out of my meditation? That’s never happened before, even when you pretended to be Rondel.”

“When we fought on this beach, the terrain was all the same. You didn’t have to concentrate to maintain it. But the forest’s continuity is critical to your training. It can’t be uniform, so it requires more focus to keep it going. Apparently, it’s too much to balance it, your high speed, and pain at the same time.”

“Grand. So how am I supposed to train?”

A dangerous glint appeared in the dragon’s eyes. “Well . . .”

Realization dawned. “Hold on,” Iren said. “You can’t be serious.”

“To be fair, I did say you weren’t going to like my idea.”

“Yeah, but what you’re suggesting is crazy. It doesn’t matter if I hurt myself in here. If I slam into a tree in the real world like I did just now though, I’ll have more than a broken nose. I don’t even want to think about all the internal injuries I’ll have when I break all my ribs.”

“Good thing you have the Muryozaki to heal you.”

Iren gulped. Rondel had trained him in a similar manner two years ago. She’d used lightning magic against him and relied on his katana’s healing power to keep him fit. Granted, that training had toughened him in a short time, but all the cuts, bruises, and broken bones made it something Iren had no desire to repeat.

“Of course,” Divinion continued, “if you’d rather give up on fighting Rondel, I would understand.”

Iren’s expression turned to ice. “I won’t,” he said. “If this is what I need to defeat Rondel, then I’ll do it. There’s a forest outside this cave. I’ll turn it into my training ground.”

Divinion sighed. “I had to try. So be it. Our meditation sessions won’t help you with this training, so we’ll stop them for now. When you can run through the forest outside at full speed without hitting anything, come see me again for the next step.”

Iren blinked twice. “The next step? What do you mean? This isn’t enough to beat Rondel?”

“Not even close. All this will do is let you follow her movements. She’s still an exceptional fighter. Even if you match her speed, you’ll have a long way to go to surpass her. Don’t worry about that for now though. It’s better if you focus on what’s right in front of you. If you knew the next step, it would only depress you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means this is the easy part. The hard part is yet to come.”

Iren groaned.

“Don’t give me that. This is what you said you wanted. Oh, and before I forget, I have one piece of advice for you. When your father underwent this training, he did it not for minutes or hours, but for days on end. He would move at full speed until he collapsed, and then he would sleep. When he awoke, he would accelerate himself again. He followed that pattern over and over, never slowing down for weeks. By doing that, his eyes and mind adjusted and began to think moving at that speed was normal. That’s what this training requires.”

“I can’t train that way on the farm. Goro and Chiyo might see me.”

“True, but when you’re alone, you should do everything as quickly as you can. The more time you spend at high speed, the faster your mind will adjust.”

Iren nodded. “All right, I guess I’ll see you in a few days.”

Divinion laughed.

*   *   *

Goro’s eyes snapped open. He’d run this farm for more than two hundred years. He knew every sound it made, so when it made an unexpected one, he caught it immediately.

He pulled himself out of bed and dressed himself. It was well after sunset. No one should be about this late at night, especially not in the uphill forest.

Yet that was where the sound had come from. He was certain of it. It was the only place nearby where trees could fall.

Chiyo looked at her husband, bleary-eyed. “Goro? What’s the matter?”

Another crash came from the forest. That made four now. One he might understand; trees did die and fall down on their own. But not this many so close together. It was a windless night, and there had been no heavy rains that could have weakened the soil. There was only one explanation. Someone was cutting down trees.

At best, it was one of the neighboring farmers being stupid and trying to catch up on his firewood. At worst, it meant someone was stealing their timber.

Goro cursed. The forest up there was the source of firewood and building materials for all the local farms. They shared it and cared for it, and there was always enough for everyone. If someone was sneaking away wood to sell, though, it would be easy for them to overcut the forest and hurt all the farmers. Goro couldn’t allow that.

Chiyo had a worried expression. “What’s going on?” she asked.

Goro realized he hadn’t answered her the first time she’d spoken. He gave her his most reassuring smile, trusting in the dark to hide its falseness. “I forgot to lock the tool shed,” he lied. “It’s probably fine, but it’ll keep me up all night unless I take care of it. I won’t be long. Go back to sleep.”

His wife didn’t look convinced, but she seemed too tired to argue. She rolled over, murmured, “Be careful,” and started snoring again.

Goro walked to the door and grabbed the lantern. He didn’t have any real weapons, but a good farm implement could serve in a pinch. He ran to the shed, unlocked it, and pulled out a pair of kamas, one-handed sickles used for harvesting rice. He kept one in his dominant left hand and put the other in his belt behind his back. Holding the lantern in his right hand, he set out across the farm toward the forest.

As he passed into the trees, Goro heard more crashes. Now that he was closer, he realized the sounds were different from when a tree hit the ground. These sounded more like something heavy hitting the trees.

Goro followed the crashes deeper into the woods, wondering what could make so much racket. None of the wild animals would cause such noise. Someone had to be up here.

At last Goro caught the sound he’d really been listening for: a person speaking. Right after one of the impacts, he heard from somewhere not far ahead of him, “Ow! Damn!”

The farmer edged forward and raised his lantern and kama. “Who’s there?” he shouted. “Come out! What are you doing out here?”

The woods went silent. Goro peered into the darkness. At the edge of the lantern’s light, he caught a glint from a pair of eyes. Goro stepped forward, and for a second the lantern shone on a man with tan hair and blue eyes wearing a dirt-stained kimono.

“Katsu?” Goro asked. Relief and shock poured into his voice with equal measure. “What on Raa are you doing out here?”

The man didn’t answer. He didn’t even move. Goro watched him another moment, and then, without warning, Katsu vanished as though he’d never been there at all.

“Katsu?” Goro called. “Katsu! Where are you?”

There was no response. Goro waited fifteen minutes, but the man, if he had been there at all, made no further sound.

Goro hiked back to the farm. The entire way, he warred with himself. Had that really been Katsu? It didn’t seem possible, yet the person he’d seen had looked just like the farmhand.

Whoever it had been, it was all the more reason to figure out who—or what—Katsu was, and to figure it out soon. Because if Katsu could hit trees with that much force and walk away, then he wasn’t just some wanderer. He was something else. Something dangerous.