“I have
been studying with the eldar.”
“The
eldar!” Tomas appeared even more confused. Memories of his life
as Ashen-Shugar came pouring back. The eldar were those elves most
trusted by their Dragon Lord masters, those who had access to many
tomes of power, pillaged from the worlds the Dragon Lords raided.
Compared to their masters, they were weak. Compared to other mortals
upon Midkemia, they were a race of powerful magicians. They had
vanished during the Chaos Wars and were thought to have perished
beside their masters. “And they live upon the Tsurani
homeworld?”
“Kelewan
is no more homeworld to the Tsurani than it is to the eldar. Both
races found refuge there during the Chaos Wars.” Pug paused,
thinking. “Elvardein was established as a watch post by the
eldar against the need of such a time as this.
“It is
much like Elvandar, Tomas, but subtly different.” He
remembered. “When I first arrived, I was made welcome. I was
taught by the eldar. But it was a different sort of teaching than any
I had undergone before. One elf, called Acaila, seemed responsible
for my education, though many taught me. Never once in the year I
spent under the polar ice did I ask a question. I would dream.”
He lowered his eyes. “It was so alien. Only you among men might
understand what I mean.”
Tomas placed his
hand on Pug’s shoulder. “I do understand. Men were not
meant for such magic.” He then smiled. “Still, we’ve
had to learn, haven’t we?”
Pug smiled at
that. “True. Acaila and the others would begin a spell and I
would sit and watch. I spent weeks not understanding they were
conducting lessons for me. Then one day I . . . joined in. I learned
to weave spells with them. That was when my education began.”
Pug smiled. “They were well prepared. They knew I was coming.”
Tomas’s
eyes widened. “How?”
“Macros.
It appears he told them a “likely student” might be
coming their way.”
“That
indicates some connection between the war and these odd occurrences
of the last year.”
“Yes.”
Pug fell silent. “I’ve learned three things. The first is
that there is no truth to our concept of there being many paths of
magic. All is magic. Only the limits of the practitioner dictate what
path is followed. Second, despite my learning, I am but just
beginning to understand all that was taught to me. For while I never
asked a question, the eldar also never gave an answer.” He
shivered. “They are so different from . . . anything else. I
don’t know if it’s the isolation, the lack of normal
congress with others of their kind, or what, but Elvardein is so
alien it makes Elvandar feel as familiar as the woods outside
Crydee.” Pug sighed. “It was so frustrating at times.
Each day I would arise and wander the woods, waiting until an
opportunity to learn presented itself. I now know more of magic than
any on this world, now that Macros is gone, but I know nothing more
about what we face. Somehow I was forged as a tool, without fully
understanding my purpose.”
“But you
have suspicions?”
“Yes,
though I will not share them, not even with you, until I am sure.”
Pug stood. “I have learned much, but I need to learn more. This
is certain - it is the third thing I told you I had learned - both
worlds face the gravest threat since the Chaos Wars.” Pug rose,
looking Tomas in the eyes. “We must be going.”
“Going?
Where?”
“All of
that will become apparent. We are poorly equipped to enter the
struggle. We are ill informed and knowledge is slow in coming. So we
must go seek knowledge. You must come with me. Now.”
“Where?”
“To where
we may learn that which may gain us advantage: to the Oracle of Aal.”
Tomas studied
Pug’s face. In all the years they had known each other, Tomas
had never seen the young magician so intense. Quietly Tomas said, “To
other worlds?”
“That is
why I need you. Your arts are alien to mine. A rift to Kelewan I can
manage, but to travel to worlds I know only through millennia-old
tomes . . .? Between the two of us, we have a chance. Will you aid
me?”
“Of
course. I must speak to Aglaranna . . .”
“No.”
Pug’s tone was firm. “There are reasons. Mostly, I
suspect something even more dread than what I know. If what I suspect
is true, then no one beyond the two of us may know what we undertake.
To share the knowledge of this quest with another is to risk the
ruination of everything. Those you seek to comfort will be destroyed.
Better to let them doubt awhile.”
Tomas weighed
Pug’s words. One thing was certain to the boy from Crydee
turned Valheru: one of the few beings in the universe worthy of
complete, utter trust now spoke to him. “I dislike this, but I
will accept your caution. How shall we proceed?”
“To
traverse the cosmos, perhaps even to swim the time-stream, we need a
steed only you may command.”
Tomas looked
away, peering into the darkness. “It has been . . . ages. Like
all the former servants of the Valheru, those you speak of have
become stronger-willed over the centuries and are unlikely to serve
willingly.” He thought, remembering images of long ago. “Still,
I will try.”
Moving to the
centre of the clearing, Tomas closed his eyes and raised his arms
high above his head. Pug watched silently. For long moments there was
no movement by either man. Then the young man in white and gold
turned to face Pug. “One answers, from a great distance, but
she comes with great speed. Soon.”
Time passed, and
the stars overhead moved in their course. Then in the distance the
sound of mighty wings beating upon the night air could be heard. Soon
the sound was a loud rush of wind and a titanic shape blotted out the
stars.
Landing in the
clearing was a gigantic figure, its descent swift and light, despite
its size. Wings spanning over a hundred feet on each side gently
landed a body bulking larger than any other creature on Midkemia.
Silver sparkles of moonlight danced over golden scales as a greater
dragon settled to the earth. A head the size of a heavy wagon
lowered, until it hung just above and before the two men. Giant eyes
of ruby colour regarded them. Then the creature spoke. “Who
dares summon me?”
Tomas answered.
“I, who was once Ashen-Shugar.”
The creature’s
mood was apparent. Irritation mixed with curiosity. “Thinkest
thou to command me as my forebears were commanded by thine? Then know
we of dragonkind have grown in power and cunning. Never willingly
shall we serve again. Standest thou ready to dispute this?”
Tomas raised
hands in a sign of supplication. “We seek allies, not servants.
I am Tomas, who, with Dolgan the dwarf, sat the deathwatch with
Rhuagh at the last. He counted me as a friend, and his gift was that
which has made me again Valheru.”
The dragon
considered this. Then she answered. “That song was well sung
and loudly, Tomas, friend of Rhuagh. In our lore, no more marvellous
thing has occurred, for when Rhuagh passed, he coursed the skies one
last time, as if his youth had been restored, and he sang his death
song with vigour. In it he spoke of thee and the dwarf Dolgan. All of
the greater dragons listened to his song and gave thanks. For that
kindness, I will listen to thy need.”
“We seek
places barred from us by space and time. Upon your back I may breach
such barriers.”
The dragon
seemed leery of the notion of one of her kind again carrying a
Valheru, despite Tomas’s reassurance. “For what cause
dost thou seek?”
It was Pug who
spoke. “A grave danger is gathering to strike this world, and
even unto dragonkind it poses a threat terrible beyond imagining.”
“There
have been strange stirrings to the north,” said the dragon,
“and an ill-aspected wind blows across the land these nights.”
She paused, pondering what had been said. “Then I think it may
be thou and I a bargain shall strike. For such purposes thou hast
spoken shall I be willing to carry thee and thy friend. I am called
Ryath.” The dragon lowered her head, and Tomas adroitly
mounted, showing Pug where to step so as not to cause the giant
creature any discomfort. When both were mounted, they sat in a
shallow depression where neck joined shoulder, between the wings.
Tomas said, “We
are in your debt, Ryath.”
The dragon gave
a mighty beat of her wings and took to the sky. As they rapidly
climbed above Elvandar, Tomas’s magic kept Pug and himself
firmly seated on Ryath’s back. The dragon spoke. “Debts
of friendship are not debts. I am of Rhuagh’s get; he was to me
what in thy world thou wouldst term a father, I to him a daughter.
While we do not count such kinship vital as do humans, still such
things have some importance. “Come, Valheru, it is time for
thee to take command.”
Drawing on
powers not employed for millennia, Tomas willed a passage into that
place beyond space and time where his brothers and sisters had once
roamed at will, visiting destruction upon worlds unnumbered. For the
first time in long ages, a Dragon Lord flew between worlds.
Tomas mentally
directed Ryath’s course. As need came, he discovered abilities
not used in this life. Again he felt the persona of Ashen-Shugar
within, but it was nothing like the all-consuming madness he had
endured before he finally overcame the heritage of the Valheru to
regain his humanity.
Tomas maintained
an illusion of space about himself, Pug, and the dragon, again almost
instinctively. All about them the glory of a thousand million stars
illuminated the darkness. Both men knew they were not in what Pug had
come to call ‘true space’, but were rather in that grey
nothingness he had experienced when he and Macros had closed the rift
between Kelewan and Midkemia. But that greyness had no substance,
existing as it did between the very strands of the fabric of space
and time. They could age here while appearing back at the point of
departure an instant after having left. Time did not exist in this
nonspace. But the human mind, no matter how gifted, had limits, and
Tomas knew Pug was human, regardless of his powers, and that now was
not the time to test his limits. Ryath appeared indifferent to the
illusion of true space around her. Tomas and Pug sensed the dragon
change directions.
The dragon’s
ability to navigate in this nothingness was a source of interest to
Pug. He suspected Macros might have gained some insight into how to
move between worlds at will from his time of study with Rhuagh years
ago. Pug made a mental note to search through Macros’s works
back at Stardock for that information.
They emerged in
normal space, thundering into existence with a loud report. Ryath
beat her wings strongly, flying through angry skies, dark with rain
clouds, above a rugged landscape of ancient mountains. The air held a
bitter metallic tang, a hint of something foul blown along by a
stinging, frigid wind. Ryath sent a thought to Tomas.
Aloud so that
Pug might hear, Tomas answered, “We shall not tarry here,
Ryath. And here we need fear nothing.”
I have
nothing to do with fear, Valheru. I simply care not for such odd
places.
Pug pointed past
Tomas, who turned to follow the magician’s gesture. With mental
commands, Tomas directed the dragon to follow Pug’s
instructions. They sped between jagged peaks, a nightmare landscape
of twisted rock. In the distance mighty volcanoes spewed towers of
black smoke that fanned upward, their undersides glowing orange from
reflected light. The mountain slopes were aglow with flowing
superheated rock. Then they came upon the city. Once-heroic walls lay
rent, the gaps framed by shattered masonry. Proud towers occasionally
still rose above the destruction, but mostly there was ruination. No
signs of life could be seen. Over what had once been a plaza they
banked, circling the heart of the city, where throngs once gathered.
Now only the sound of Ryath’s wings could be heard over the icy
wind.
“What
place is this?” asked Tomas.
“I do not
know. I know this is the world of the Aal, or once was in the past.
It is ancient. See the sun.”
Tomas observed
an angry white spot behind blowing clouds. “It is strange.”
“It is
old. Once it shone like ours, brilliant and warm. Now it fades.”
Valheru lore,
long dormant, returned to Tomas. “It is near the end of its
cycle. I have knowledge of these. Sometimes they simply dwindle to
nothing. Other times . . . they explode in titanic fury. I wonder
which this will be.”
“I don’t
know. Perhaps the oracle knows.” Pug directed Tomas toward a
distant range of mountains.
Toward the
mountains they sped, Ryath’s powerful wings carrying them
swiftly. The city had stood on the edge of tableland, once
cultivated, they suspected. But nothing hinting of farms remained,
save a single stretch of what seemed an aqueduct, standing isolated
in the centre of the broad plain, a silent monument to a long dead
people. Then Ryath began to climb as they approached the mountains.
Once again they flew between mountain peaks, these old and worn by
wind and rain.
“There,”
said Pug. “We have arrived.”
Following
Tomas’s mental instructions, Ryath circled above a peak. Upon
the south-facing rocks a clear flat place was revealed, before a
large cave. There was no room for the giant dragon to land,, so Tomas
used his powers to levitate himself and Pug from her back. Ryath sent
a message that she would fly to hunt, returning at Tomas’s
call. Tomas wished her success, but expected the dragon to return
hungry.
They floated
through a damp, windblown sky, so darkened by the storm there was
little difference between day and night. They alighted upon the ledge
before the cave.
They watched
Ryath speed away. Pug said, “There is no danger here, but we
may yet travel to places of great peril. Do you think Ryath truly
without fear?”