WinterMaejic (18 page)

“And you expect me to believe this?”

Donavah’s power has saved me. Saved Oleeda and Traz, as well. And, most importantly, herself. It is a marvel. It takes my breath away to consider it. I become convinced more and more that she, not Xyla, is the “strong one” of the prophecy.

And yet there is this nonsense she tells me about Anazian. It is impossible. Utterly, completely, thoroughly impossible. I fear that what she has endured the past weeks has unhinged her mind, and if this is the case, it is woeful tidings indeed.

My jaw dropped. After everything I’d been through, how dare he not believe me?

Yallick went on before I could say anything. “What you are telling me is that a mage—one whom I myself trained—has become a traitor.” His blue-green eyes stared at me, icier than ever before.

“But it’s true. I’m telling you the . . .”

“Quiet! Let me think.”

I couldn’t believe it. He’d seen the results of what Anazian had done to me. How could he think I was making it up? I sat in silence and fumed, blocking so as to keep Xyla from catching my thoughts. I didn’t want to upset her when her time was so near.

“And yet,” Yallick finally muttered, “perhaps it does make sense at that.”

I looked at him sharply. He still sat on the ground, leaning back against the dragon, with his eyes closed. I wondered whether he even knew he’d spoken aloud.

“Why don’t you just ask Xyla?” I snapped. “She’ll tell you I’m not lying.”

He opened his eyes and looked at me again. I stared back, willing myself not to blink or flinch.

“If you speak the truth, then you of all people will understand my need of caution. If you are deceiving me, there is nothing to prove you have not deceived her, too.”

It felt like being stabbed. My insides clenched in the face of Yallick’s wrath the same as they had when I’d first found myself without my maejic. I managed to rise to my feet.

“I
will
find a way to prove to you that I’m telling the truth.” And I walked away. I wanted nothing more than to storm out of the cave, but I knew that this was exactly what he expected me to do, and I decided to prove him wrong.

Instead, I went to check on Oleeda and Traz.

“It is good to see you up and about, my dear,” Oleeda said, giving me a warm look that didn’t do much to make me feel better. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” I grumbled.

She raised her eyebrows. “As you wish.”

Honestly, I half-hoped she’d argue with me, make me repeat the story to her. I imagined her hanging on every word, gasping at all the right places, nodding sympathetically. Believing me. The way I’d expected Yallick to. Instead, I just asked, “Can I make you some tea? Some breakfast?”

“I am ahead of you there.” She motioned toward the table, where Traz sat lethargically sipping a mug of steaming tea. “I do not know what is going on, Donavah, so I hesitate to say anything.” She threw a glance toward Yallick, who still sat by Xyla, deep in thought. Or maybe asleep. “But you were marvelous yesterday. More so, I suspect, than I know. I honestly expected you to be dead today, you were declining so rapidly. Instead you are quite well. Strong, even. The progress you have made in the past few months since we met—it is amazing. Beyond what I ever expected, beyond what Yallick ever hoped.”

At the mention of his name, something inside me snapped. I had done everything—everything!—he’d ever instructed. I could have returned to Roylinn Academy, taken the easy way, but he’d convinced me that I had more to offer the world than Roylinn could have prepared me for. So I had accepted his challenge. And for what? Certainly I had learned more in those first weeks than I would have in six months at Roylinn, and that had been exciting, even fun. But then it all fell apart when we’d gone on the run. Worst of all was the agony—physical, emotional, and spiritual—that Anazian had caused. And now Yallick refused to believe me!

As these thoughts raced through my head, Oleeda just watched me with a quizzical expression on her face. It seemed as if she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to phrase it.

The atmosphere of the cave suddenly grew stifling. I grabbed my cloak. A long walk seemed just the thing. I hoped that Yallick might call me back, but he didn’t.

When I got outside, I embraced the cold air. I breathed deeply, letting the chill cleanse the tension from me. A splotch of color on the periphery of my vision caught my attention—the melted bits of the meditation candles from the night before. I went over and stood again in the center of my circle.

Two mages, a man and a woman, walked past, startling me. They just nodded politely, but curiosity burned in their eyes. As if they wanted to know how it was that I was up and about but were afraid to ask. Which was fine, for I wouldn’t have told them. They hurried into the cave.

Closing my eyes, I began the familiar routine. Clear my thoughts. Find my calm center. Open my inner senses. Absorb the power of the earth, the air, the life all around.

The power cocooned me with silken strands of energy. I reached out my hands and accepted the gift. My skin tingled. My hair stood out on end. I laughed.

When I opened my eyes, I saw that the sun had risen almost to noon. I’d stood there uninterrupted far longer than I’d realized, well over two hours. Now I felt energized, alive, in harmony with the life vibration around me.

The life vibration! Yes, there it was. Everywhere. I stepped out of the circle and walked. Away. Anywhere. I listened to the voices of the trees as the wind rustled their branches and leaves, the song of the insects burrowing their way through life. Here and there I caught the signature of small creatures, hidden away under the blanket of snow, awaiting the stirrings of Spring.

And there, so elusive that I almost doubted it entirely, the gossamer thread that indeed presaged the coming of Spring. I laughed aloud again, and the sound of it—sound coming from my own lips and vocal chords—echoed through the woods.

Nowhere did I detect any negative vibrations, and that made me feel even more joyful. With nothing to fear, I could relax my guard.

As if my very thought cursed the sense of peace, a shiver brushed across the forest. I halted. Closed my eyes so I could better focus my inner senses. Something unfamiliar to the woods, but not necessarily dangerous.

Then everything around me froze, as if it were holding its breath in anticipation.

Right behind me, a dog barked.

I turned around just in time to be knocked to the ground by a brown and white . . .

“Chase?” I couldn’t believe it! He licked my face as I hugged his wriggling body. His doggy breath was warm on my cheeks. I sat up and held him in my lap, stroking him, scratching under his chin, enjoying the feel of his short, soft coat on the palms of my hands. And I waited for Grey to appear, knowing he couldn’t be far behind his dog.

Moments later, I felt his vibration. Strong, sure, and steady. I thought it a little strange that I recognized it immediately, when it had taken me awhile to begin to recognize Traz’s. But it was unmistakably Grey. I rose to my feet.

When he pushed through the underbrush and saw me standing there, his face lit up in surprise and, I hoped, pleasure. Chase barked, and now that my maejic had returned, I sensed the pride he felt, as if he’d found me all on his own.

“Well, I did.” And his voice in my head sounded just as I’d imagined it would: raspy, confident, and jovial. Nothing like the gentle roar that was Xyla’s voice.

“Donavah!”’ Grey said, standing there staring. “I don’t believe it. Well, I mean, I do believe it, because we were looking for . . .” His voice trailed off.

I smiled. And spoke. “It’s great to see you. And
I
really don’t believe it.”

His eyes widened. “You’ve got your voice back.” He looked at my hands, which I raised to shoulder level, wiggling my fingers.

“As good as new,” I said.

“I’m glad.” Then his face fell a little. “I just wish . . . well, you know, that I’d been able to help.”

Chase walked over and rubbed his head against Grey’s thigh. Grey automatically reached down and scratched behind the dog’s ears. It was such an endearing exchange—perfect communication between a man and his dog. Somehow, it brought back warm memories of the time back in Grey’s house, when I’d been helpless and unable to speak, and yet we’d still found companionship with each other.

“I missed you.” It came out of my mouth before I realized I was speaking aloud.

I blushed and turned my head away slightly. Well, the words had been spoken and couldn’t be taken back now. I faced Grey with a small smile, only to find him blushing, too.

After a short, awkward pause, I cleared my throat. “So, how did you find us . . . me?”

Grey shrugged. “Just tracked you.”

“Very funny. We flew here.”

He gave me a half grin. “I have my ways.” Chase barked. “And my dog.”

“You don’t actually expect me to believe that a dog can track a flying dragon, do you?” I chuckled to take the sting out of my words. “Besides, it must have taken you days to cover ground we flew over in hours.”

“Weeks, really. Fourteen days walking once I found someone to look after Hallin. Couldn’t ride him, with that injury and all.”

I scowled. Weeks? I must have been ill a lot longer than I’d thought. I tried to remember the passing days, but it was all mostly a blur.

“Hey, are you all right?” Grey took a step toward me.

“Oh. Yes. I’m fine. Just a little cold. Let’s walk, and we can catch up on news.”

It turned out to be much more difficult to tell Grey my story than I’d expected. Without being able to tell him anything about maejic and my ability to speak with animals, much less about why we were in the company of a dragon, there wasn’t much to tell. And the last thing I wanted to admit to him was that I’d had to heal myself in the end.

His story, too, was patchy and full of holes. He couldn’t give me a decent explanation about how he’d managed to “track” a flying dragon. He muttered something about traces of residue that I wouldn’t understand. Not at all satisfactory.

As we walked along in silence, I wondered whether we’d ever be able to communicate openly. I looked sidelong at him. He moved with such grace and restrained power. I smiled.

Then, unexpectedly, “Look, maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

My stomach sank. “No. No. I’m glad you did.”

We stopped walking and he stood facing me. “It’s . . . it’s just that I thought . . .” He closed his eyes and let out a breath. “I don’t know what I thought.”

I took his hands in mine. “Grey.” He looked back at me, and I fancied I could see reflections of the sun in his eyes. “Grey, I’m serious. I’m
really
glad you’re here. Things are just . . . strange right now.”

He snorted. “You can say that again.”

I came to a quick decision. “I’ll prove it. I’ll tell you everything. I’ve trusted you with my life; it’s only fair that I should trust you with my soul, too.”

A long pause. “All right. Me, too. Fair’s fair.”

“Let’s find somewhere warm. The whole story, and I mean the
whole
story, is long.”

He nodded once and smiled. Maybe everything would be all right after all. We started walking, and this time, he held my hand.

“Donavah!” Xyla’s voice inside my head was so loud it seemed to echo in the woods. “It’s time.”

I halted. “Xyla? The eggs?”

“Come quickly!”

Aloud, I said, “Grey, we have to go back to the cave. Now! Hurry!”

I took off, retracing the footsteps in the snow, Grey on my heels asking what in the world could have happened.