Swords of the Six (11 page)

“Nay, my daughter,” the dragon rumbled. He raised one clawed hand and waved it at the fog, and the moisture raced away from him. “You are all of dragon blood . . .
my
blood. Each one of you will discover the power that that gives you, but only in time.

“Dantress will forever be different but you all have the same potential as she does. Strive to exercise justice with mercy and wield with wisdom the swords that I have granted you. By so doing you will learn the things that she has learned and move on to discover things you had never known were possible.”

But the dragon’s hand settled around her shoulders, and he spoke softly into the darkness. “There is no need of those while you are with me.” To the sisters’ astonishment the imposing form of the dragon glowed surreal beside them, and in that pure white light every step of their way stood out clear as if lit by the light of full moon.

They followed the dragon deep into the mountain, navigating the myriad of tunnels and caves concealed therein until he brought them to a white stone bridge, broad enough for the dragon and his children, spanning a raging underground river.

On the opposite side of the bridge, carved into the solid wall of stone, a door at least a hundred feet tall and shaped like a maple leaf, stood out.

Dantress and her sisters clustered close to the dragon and craned their necks to better see the intricate patterns of vines and flowers carved into the leaf’s face.

“There’s no need to be afraid, my daughters.” He stood on his hind legs and rested his clawed hands on the door. His body resonated with light, glowing brighter and brighter until Dantress and her sisters shielded their eyes with their hands.

The dragon dropped back to all fours, rumbling deep in his throat. Soon the sound of stone grinding against stone pulled the sisters’ attention back to the door. It fell away from them into a chamber beyond with an earsplitting crash that Dantress feared would bring the mountain down on their heads.

Dantress followed her father the dragon into the chamber. He gripped a blue marble pillar that reached from the floor to the arched ceiling some couple hundred feet above them and pulled, growling with the effort. It must have taken a lot of energy for the pillar was enormous, but it began to move silently upward until its base rose above floor level, revealing a sheet of glass concealed beneath it.

Albino ceased his efforts and the pillar stayed where it now stood on the vertical sheet of glass. The glass portion beneath the pillar fizzled with energy and the dragon sprayed a torrent of searing flames into it. A portal opened, unlike anything Dantress had ever imagined. She could see, as it were, to another place. A deep-blue sea lay to the right, and to the left stretched a sandy white shore with a river pouring through it.

“Behold the River Eiderveis, the beginning of your journey,” the dragon said. “Its current is full of life, and it possesses a power that will decide the fate of an entire race.

“Search along the river’s eastern shore until you find a cottage . . . it is the only one on that side of the river and you cannot pass without seeing it. There you may stay without fear, for I know the tenant of that place and she is a trusted and old friend. This same individual knows what you must do. Listen to what she says and do as she instructs you.”

He hesitated, looking at each of them in turn. “Do not fear, Evela. I will be watching over you even when you cannot see me.

“Rose’el, listen to Caritha and Dantress. They have more wisdom than you know, but they will need your help if this mission is to be a success.”

She stiffened and resolutely looked at the portal. “Yes, Father. I will.”

“Very well, I believe you are all ready to begin your journey.” He stretched his tail around them and looked at the back wall. Beams of light shot from his eyes and struck it, sending a shock that seemed to shake the mountain to its foundations. If his tail had not supported the sisters they would have fallen.

In several dozen places the chamber’s wall opened and semi-transparent cylinders of various sizes slid out, resting like cocoons on the wall while a soft green light lit them from above.

“What are they?” Dantress recognized the shapes of human men and women along with various creatures inside the cocoons. Yet they were distorted by dark webbing that coated each of the cylinders.

The dragon looked dreamily at the collection suspended above him. His eyes roved from one to the next, and the next. His scaled chest heaved as he let out a long breath.

“Father? What are they?” Dantress glanced from cylinder to cylinder, half expecting a corpse to fall out.

“The mightiest warriors of history, my daughter," the dragon replied. "They wait for a future day when they will be awakened by One who will claim victory and reclaim this world from the wicked. Mark this moment in your memories, my children, and remember the glory that once was and the glory that has not yet come. Fight for the innocent and use your powers with wisdom; in so doing you may one day be remembered among the honored warriors of the past.”

He roared and herded them toward the portal. It fizzled louder as they approached it. “Now, go, my daughters! Speak to no one until you come to the cottage of my ally and receive her instruction!”

Dantress felt herself passing into the portal. It was like sinking into jelly, slippery and cool. She shot out the other side and rolled on the ground. A wave crashed over her and pulled back, leaving her soaked from head to toe. She got to her knees and then coughed, tasting salt.

* * *

The man opened his eyes and reached out weakly for support, touching the cool glass angling away from his linen-wrapped-torso with his fingers. As he applied his full weight to the glass, it gave way beneath him. He tried to grab for something, anything, but fell forward. His eyes ached, his vision blurred. Tired, he felt very tired.

Dark webbing, thick and sticky, caught him as he fell and lowered him gently to the stone floor. He rolled on his side, squinted up, trying to see, then turned away from the bright window of energy fizzling before him. A portal to another place . . . it had to be. But where had he seen one of those before?

He propped himself on one elbow and then sat up. His mind was hazy and he felt—disoriented. As his vision cleared, the chamber's dark walls of stone rose around him.

With a snap and a fizzling sound, the energy portal closed down. Soft green light shone from above, illuminating the room.

Something behind him, slid over the stones. The floor shuddered under a great weight.

He looked over his shoulder, caught a glimpse of something long and white. Something was in here with him. Hurriedly he pushed himself up and tried to stand. But his legs, bound in linen, prevented him from maintaining his balance. He fell backward.

"Whoa there," a voice rumbled. A scaled hand caught him before he hit the floor and stood him up, keeping him steady. "Rest for a moment, my friend. Your body is weak from being in stasis for so long."

The man looked up, his vision had nearly cleared. "My master," he said, reverently lowering his eyes.

Albino dipped his head in acknowledgement and then reached over to the portal with his free hand, pulling down with great force until it slid into the floor, hidden again from sight, with the blue marble pillar resting on top.

The dragon looked hard at him and then put a clawed hand on his chest. A white glow seeped from beneath the dragon's palm. "That should remedy the pain."

The man straightened and nodded. "Thank you, yes. That is much better."

"Good." The dragon glanced behind the man. "Have you brought the items, my friend?"

Patient emerged from a dark corner of the room. His shepherd's staff tapped the floor once for every couple steps he took. Over his free arm draped a light gray fabric, and in the crook of his elbow he cradled a long, black-handled scythe.

"Does he remember?" the shepherd asked.

The dragon clicked his claws against the stone floor. "No."

The man stared at Patient. His gaze swept from the base of the shepherd's white robes, to his bearded face and blue eyes, then on to the hooked staff. "I know you. Don't I?"

"You did," the shepherd acknowledged.

"And who am
I?
" He waited for an answer.

Patient did not say a word. He merely set the staff and the scythe on the floor and held up the gray cloth. The dragon stripped off the linen wrappings and helped the man into trousers and a shirt that appeared to be made of the same material as the one the shepherd held.

When he had been clothed the man stretched his aching legs. The shepherd stepped up to him, lifting the cloth to attach it at the shoulder. Albino touched the fabric with the tip of his claw. When he withdrew it, a crystalline clip remained in its place.

The man ran his finger along the crystal and found the form of a fire breathing dragon sculpted thereon . . . He'd seen this before.

Standing, the man looked down at himself. His apparel appeared plain, yet elegant. It shimmered for a few moments, then vanished . . . and his body vanished with it.

"From this day forward," Albino said, gripping the blue marble pillar with his claws—and his pink eyes flared—"you will call yourself and be known as Specter." He hauled up the pillar and shot flames against the energy fizzling on the glassy surface until the portal opened.

Specter looked down at the shepherd. Then he knelt before him and the great white dragon. "I live to serve, my masters. Send me where you will."

"Then go," the dragon said, "and watch over my children, my six human daughters. They are young and inexperienced. I want no harm to befall them."

"And how, my master, will I recognize these young women? I do not even know who I am."

"Yet you
will
know them, Specter. And your memory will return to you ere this mission is over." The dragon stepped away from the portal. "We have given you all the tools that will be necessary for this assignment, and you are swifter on foot than most of my children; you will have no difficulty in locating them."

Specter rose, bowed to the shepherd and the dragon, and walked into the portal.

Chapter 5: Cottage on the Riverbank

Dantress swallowed enough salty seawater to make her gag.

“Are you all right?” Caritha knelt beside her and wiped the sand from her face with a dry handkerchief.

“Yes . . . I think so.” She looked around. The mid-morning sun shining on the white beach radiated heat through her clothes. She wrung water from her hair.

Evela stood in the midst of the long silvery grass ten or more feet from the shore and pulled a thorny barb from her skirt. Rose’el and Levena, looking dazed, sat up and held their heads as they looked at the trunk of the broad oak tree they'd struck. Showing neither discomfort nor surprise, Laura walked slowly from the shrinking point of light that had been the portal. The point of light snapped and, an instant later, the portal vanished.

“Well, we made it.” Caritha rose and smiled at her sisters.

Rose’el grunted, prepared to say something, but Caritha frowned at her and she said nothing.

The Eiderveis River, to the west, poured into the sea. Its water was the clearest sparkling blue that Dantress had ever seen, as if it ran over polished sapphires. She stood and walked the hundred yards or so to the river’s bank, gazing southward. The shores of the Eiderveis River stretched like narrow bands of gold from the sea, cutting through the thickly wooded hills lying in that direction until they disappeared in the distance, heading toward a group of mountains whose dark peaks somehow reminded her of her narrow escape from the basement in Shizar Palace.

Laura pointed to the west along the seashore. Wisps of gray and black smoke rose into the still, cool air. “There is smoke rising from behind the trees in that direction.” A line of flat stones rose from the river. She jumped to the first, then skipped from one to the next until she stood on the opposite bank. She glanced back at her sisters. “What are you waiting for?”

Caritha shook her head and held back Levena from following Laura across the current. “Laura, come back; Father said that we are not to speak to anyone until we find the cottage on the river’s
eastern
bank. Come quickly, for I think we should head south as quickly as possible. That way we may avoid contact with the residents of these parts. Be they friendly or not we should stick to the river’s bank.”

"What makes you think we need to go south?" Laura asked.

Caritha raised her eyebrow and pointed at the sea, for it cut off any northward trek.

Casting a longing glance in the direction of possible civilization, Laura acquiesced. She skipped from flat stone to flat stone, back across the river and stood behind Dantress.

With Caritha leading the way, they set off at a brisk walk, following the river’s broad golden bank. The sunlight angled through the trees that bordered the sand. A cool and gentle breeze blew over the river.