A Balance Broken (Dragonsoul Saga) (43 page)

W
hen the first morning chill appeared in the air, Maddi began taking a cloak during her walks into the slums. She did not need the protection of the watchmen who joined her, unless it was protection from a wave of loving admirers. They tossed flowers and tokens of affection to her, calling out “Livegiver!” whenever she strode past. By the time the first few flakes of snow fell, Maddi received letters of introduction from nobles within the city, offering generous donations to her cause if they could appear with her in public.

“It might be a good idea.” Ami handed her back one of the brightly sealed letters. “It would help build support for the hospital.”

Maddi shook her head. “They just want to use me for their own grandstanding. I hate nobles and politicians.”

Ami shrugged. “It’s all part of the game you have to play if you want to make things happen.”

The next morning, Tanya rushed in through the door. “Maddi! You got
two
letters today!”

A glob of gray wax with no seal closed a folded parchment for one letter. The other was in a sealed linen envelope attached to a small box. Maddi read the outside of the parchment. It was addressed to her in a strong, confident script, while beneath the seal the sender had written a single word.

“Tallen,” she whispered.

Tanya wrinkled her nose. “Who’s Tallen?”

Maddi laid the letter aside, her emotions too strong and too mixed for her to read it now, especially in front of Tanya. “He is a very good friend. He is on the Isle of Wizards learning to be a mage.”

“A wizard!” The girl clapped her hands. “Now open the box!”

Raising a single finger, Maddi admonished Tanya. “Always read the card first. It is respectful and proper manners.”

She used her nail to pop open the envelope. The hint of a musky scent wafted to her nose. Maddi pulled out a fine, linen card. Exquisite calligraphy crawled across its creamy surface.

To the Lady Doctor Maddrix Conaleon,

By the grace of the Lord Doctor Tymin Marten, you are requested to attend the Midwinter Ball of his Royal Majesty Arathan VII, King of the People of Gan, Arbiter of the Return, Seeker of the Balance. Festivities begin at sundown within the High Hall of the Ivory Palace of Daynon.

At the bottom, a barely legible hand had scrawled a few extra words.

Please, I beg that you join me Maddi. I will have a coach arrive at your home just before sundown. I will have good news.

Tymin

PS – Wear something nice with the gift. Important people wish to meet you.

Maddi lifted the lid off the white cardboard box. Facets of sparkling blue met her eyes, and a grin brightened her face to meet them. A set of sapphire earrings surrounded by brilliant white diamonds dappled the room with the refracted sunlight flooding in through the eastern window.

Tanya hopped up and down. “Lemme see! Lemme see!”

Lowering the box for Tanya, Maddi shook her head.

That bastard. How can I tell him no now?

Never let a mage catch you with spare time.

— Unofficial student motto on the Isle of Wizards

T
allen ignored the oil lamp, tying off a small piece of Fire and Air into a ball of light the way Magus Yasmine had taught him. A slight breeze floated in through the open window, not yet cool enough with autumn to make him uncomfortable. Midnight approached, yet he had so little time to spare. He grasped the old book Magus Britt had given him, refocusing his eyes on the tightly printed pages.

The Aspect of Earth is not the exact same substance as the actual element in our physical universe, just as the green light we see reflected from an object is not the same thing as the green object itself. Magical power is a potential for change. It is raw energy. We tap into the different Aspects of it to affect different parts of our physical world. The fact that we express the Aspects through the use of elemental terms is really just a semantic issue – they are analogs from two different realities.

I believe that the four elemental Aspects, as they are often known, are just facets of one basic power, just as all elements are expressions of the same matter. I believe this power is closer to the Psoul “Aspect” than any of the others. I believe it is connected to the powers of Talented healers and the Paladins of Balance. All different forms of life reflect
psahn
, just as the different Aspects reflect this base magic.

Now some of my colleagues complain that I am prejudiced as a Dreamer. But I ask this instead – why are there so few like myself who can touch the Psoul Aspect if it is just an equal point of the star?

Writings from before the Cataclysm show...

A flap of wings and rustle of feathers rattled his open window, drawing Tallen out of the book. The heavy black bird rested upon the sill, clacking his obsidian beak.

“Merl!” Tallen called. “I’ve been wondering what you and Dorias have been up to.”

Merl croaked a burble that sounded suspiciously like the word “Hello.” Pointing the black bead of one eye toward the door, he chortled again. This time, Tallen felt certain Merl said, “Wizard.”

A knock sounded at the door.

Setting the book aside, Tallen reached for the latch. “Come in.”

“Greetings, lad,” Dorias Ravenhawke said, entering the room. “Sorry I haven’t had the time to visit you over the last month or so. I’ve been all over this blasted island.” He slumped into Tallen’s single chair. “I have searched libraries passed from master to apprentice for hundreds of years. I have gone through every abandoned tower on both hills. Merl scouted from the sky to lead me to them. If I missed something, it is buried deeper than my powers can reach.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Tallen shifted his legs over the side of the bed to lean against the wall. “What about the forbidden area Varana warned me about?”

A visible shudder rippled down Dorias’ back. “I’m not desperate enough to search there yet. I have a few other ideas to try first.” He rubbed his charcoal goatee and shifted his hawkish eyes onto Tallen. “Which brings me to one of the reasons I am here.”

Dorias reached into a coat pocket and pulled out his pipe and pouch. He filled the bowl, offering the pouch to Tallen, who grabbed his own pipe – the gryphon carved gift from his brother.
He’s probably on the walls of Gavanor right now. Living the big life in a big city, while I’m stuck on an island full of stuffy wizards.

When both pipes had a good ember glowing, lit by their powers in the Aspect of Fire, Dorias leaned back. “I have found very little information, Tallen. The few Dreamer writings mention nothing like the black fog I feel over the Dreamrealm.” He puffed his pipe and shifted forward to look Tallen in the eye. “Have you felt the same thing, lad? When last did you enter the Dreamrealm?”

Tallen rested the hand holding his pipe on his lap. “Several months ago, when I was in Gavanor. Magus Britt detected that I had gone there while sleeping. He wrapped my head in a spell that has kept me out since.” He shrugged and furrowed his brow. “I guess I’ve been so consumed by learning the other parts of my power, I forgot about Dreaming.”

Dorias leaned in close, setting his wolf’s head pipe on Tallen’s desk. “I see. I had not thought to look.” He chuckled as Tallen felt him embrace a tiny filament of Psoul. “Very clumsy. So much Fire…but I suppose that is most of what he has to work with.” The wizard passed his hand over Tallen’s head. “There, I—”

A violent stab of pain ripped through Tallen’s skull. He cried out in agony, tossing his pipe as his hands leaped to his head. The searing sensation built up a ball of pressure behind his nose, threatening to tear his brain apart. In his last vision, a startled Dorias leaned toward him with an expression of concerned panic.

S
hadows spun around Tallen. He fought to steady himself, at first only aware that the pain no longer split his skull. Regardless of how long it had been since last he visited the Dreamrealm, it felt like slipping on a familiar sweater. The star-speckled night hung about him, and Tallen focused on it.

The barest of moments passed before he felt another presence. He froze, both unwilling and unable to move. A wisp of silvery light twisted about. The brilliant smoke curled and rolled, spinning itself out into a serpentine form that wrapped its luminous wings about him.

Tallen of the Humans that once called themselves my people, I only have a moment to warn you, then you must go from this place and not return.

“Who are you!” he shouted wordlessly at the shining light. “Why do you want me? Why do your orcs chase me?”

I am not the one who seeks you out, Human. It is my opposite and my twin. My counterpart is the one who desires you. Galdreth seeks your power. Only a Dreamer can fulfill Galdreth’s purpose. The orcs simply serve Galdreth who is their ancient master.

The tendrils wrapped around him, possessive and protective. He attempted a struggle, but the force that held his mind tolerated no resistance.

You must understand that I am trapped, as is Galdreth. But the prison weakens for my counterpart far more quickly than for me. You must resist Galdreth. Chaos must not be unleashed alone upon the world.

The silver spirit shuddered, and a distance crept into its silken steel voice.

You must not come here again. You are vulnerable here. Otherwise, Galdreth requires you be brought to our prison.

Another shudder shook the smoky light, which wavered in the darkness. Tallen felt something pulling at him, tugging from a long distance away.

You must find a way to free me from this prison, so that I may balance Galdreth’s Chaos. You must seek it out, in the mountain your people call Dragonsclaw. Now go!

Spinning about Tallen, the light disappeared, and a sucking sensation drew at his heart. His vision tunneled, and he opened his eyes.

D
orias knelt beside him, a worried peak to his eyebrows. Tallen coughed, though the agony no longer squeezed at his temples. A slight headache remained, as if he had drunk too much wine the night before. The wizard rubbed Tallen’s back while he struggled with desperate breaths. When the room steadied around him, the rhythm of his lungs smoothed.

“Easy there, lad,” Dorias whispered. “I thought I’d lost you. For a second, I thought I had killed you.”

Tallen rubbed his throbbing head. His breathing eased a little. “I…I was pulled into the Dreamrealm.”

Taking Tallen’s head in his hands, Dorias knelt down beside him. A small trickle of Psoul magic flowed out from the wizard, and Tallen felt it caress his mind. “Does your head hurt?”

Tallen winced. “Somewhat, but not nearly as bad as before. How long was I out?”

“Only a few seconds.” Dorias, apparently satisfied that Tallen remained intact, stopped the flow of his power. “I realized it in an instant and tried to pull you out.” The wizard paused. “Only…something stopped me. It was similar to the cloud obscuring the Dreamrealm, yet still quite different – sharper perhaps.”

A familiar scent drifted into Tallen’s nostrils. “Something is burning…”

Where his pipe had flown and landed on the woolen blanket, a small ember had begun to smoke.

“Goodness me.” The wizard snuffed it out with a tendril of Water. “Sorry lad, I should have noticed that before. I was focused on you.”

Tallen nodded and his skull throbbed again. He placed the pipe back on his headboard. “Thanks for your concern. I appreciate it.”

Reaching into his inner coat pocket, Dorias pulled out a delicate silver flask. He flicked open the lid with a small lever and took a sip. The wizard winced and sighed after the liquor went down. He reached out, offering it to Tallen. “Here lad, take a good slug of this. It will make you feel better.”

Sniffing the mouth of the flask, Tallen caught a hint of blueberry and almond. He pulled hard on the liquor, which warmed his throat and stomach on its course through his body, the tingle flowing all the way to his fingers and toes. The throbbing in his head no longer made him wince.

Tallen passed the flask back to Dorias. “I think I’ve encountered this being before – back in Dadric before I left with Boris and Magus Britt.” The warmth of embarrassment filled his ears. “I never mentioned it because my memory of that single dream is so hazy. Do you have any idea what this thing was?”

The wizard took another nip from the flask. He sat back in the narrow chair, his head shaking in doubt. “I’m not certain as yet. I think the presence that drew you into the Dreamrealm is the same or similar to the one that forbids me entrance. I could not pull you out. It released you. It is far too powerful.” Dorias narrowed his gaze on Tallen and passed the flask back. “Can you describe it to me? I only sensed it from a distance.”

Taking another gulp of the liquor sharpened Tallen’s wits even further. He sat there, letting the cordial do its work. The tingling was not as strong this time, but his body warmed again and his mind focused.

“It was different from anything I’ve encountered in the Dreamrealm before. It gathered like…like silver smoke in the shape of a lizard…” His face snapped up to stare at Dorias. “…like a dragon.”

“A dragon spirit?” Leaning back in his chair, Dorias drug his hand across his lips, and his complexion paled. “What did it say to you?”

“It’s distant – like remembering a strange dream.” Tallen shook his head. “Though, it is clearer than the last time I encountered it.”

Dorias nodded, his acute gaze focused on Tallen. “Such can be the case with untrained Dreamers. I can teach you techniques that will help you focus in the Dreamrealm and carry what you learn there back with you. You can even help those mages you draw in with you to remember conversations. That is how long distance communication is done by Dreamers.” He lifted a professorial finger. “There was a time when every monarch and many nobles had Dreamers employed to exchange messages between each other in an instant, but that was long ago.”

Tallen sipped from the flask. The liquor invigorated him, wiping the last of his headache away. With its cleansing, the shattered parts of his memory began to knit back together. He snapped the lid on the flask closed, and handed it off to Dorias. “You’ll have to teach me the recipe.”