The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six) (60 page)

Snapping the air with its mighty jaws, the creature tried to grab the cat's legs, but the other cat landed gracefully and attacked from the other side. Convinced this meal wasn't worth the effort or risk, the mighty reptile slid back into the water and disappeared. The fact that so little depth could conceal such a large predator made Allette want to get as far away from the stream as she could. Only moments ago, she and Thundegar had been filling their flasks from that stream, and she doubted the outcome would have been the same if the reptile had attacked them rather than the big cats.

The cats, too, seemed to have decided this place was too dangerous to stay, but one of them looked back and met Allette's eyes one last time before slipping silently back into the trees. She would have breathed a sigh of relief if not for the massive shadow now circling them.

* * *

Seeing the Firstland made a great many things real to Sinjin. His mother had been there twice, and both times she'd nearly been killed. Now he led a group of people completely unprepared to make a new life there. These people had been desert nomads for the gods knew how long, and Sinjin didn't feel all that much more ready than they.

"The city of Ri is the place where the regent dragons lived," Benjin said. "It's also the only place I've any idea of how to get to. I'd suggest starting there."

"Will you come?" Sinjin asked.

Benjin nodded; Fasha glared at him.

"What of the
Dragon's Wing
?" Sinjin asked.

"Fasha can take the
Wing
and see where there are good fishing grounds. The first thing we'll need is a steady supply of food. She won't be able to sail past the Eternal Guardians, so we'll need a clear supply route. There may be fish in the river as well, so it may be that we don't even need to go to sea."

Her glare intensifying, Fasha said nothing, but her look made it clear that she saw right through Benjin's words. He wanted to keep her safe, and she knew it; it clearly did not please her. Fasha was no delicate flower.

"Even that mission will be fraught with peril," Benjin continued. "When Catrin first came here, she was attacked by Gholgi in the wild. If I recall, the creatures nearly sunk the
Slippery Eel.
"

Fasha rolled her eyes, obviously unconvinced. Clear blue skies harbored only wisps of clouds, and a warm breeze blew. The black beaches looked peaceful and quiet. Even when they reached the towering stone spires that jutted out into the ocean and sheltered a massive bay, within all seemed tranquil. Here had once rested a Zjhon warship, placed there by a mighty wave thought to have originated from a volcanic eruption in the shallows. The distances seemed inconceivable to Sinjin, having just covered the distance from the Godfist to the Firstland, and he knew the shallows to be nearly as far.

The harbor entrance loomed before them, and Pelivor slowly eased them back toward the placid waters below. Each time he had done so with so many aboard had been a frightening experience, and passengers and crew prepared themselves for the sudden slowing of the ship. Gwen had eased off the thrust, but Pelivor had to maintain enough speed to keep them from simply falling from the sky; it was a fine balance.

"Brace yourselves!" Pelivor cried, the strain clearly audible in his voice even with his augmented power.

The
Dragon's Wing
issued a loud groan when she reentered the water, and the weight of her load shifted forward. The abrupt deceleration and return of the ship's natural motions was sudden and disorienting. Sinjin gripped the rail, waiting for his body and brain to adjust to the ship's movements. The gap in the spires was more than large enough to admit the
Dragon's Wing
into the harbor. He'd heard the story about how his mother and the
Slippery Eel
had entered the harbor airborne, and he couldn't imagine it. Just sailing through it was unnerving. In that moment, Sinjin was glad Kenward had stayed behind. This place held a lot of bad memories for him, and Sinjin didn't want to see any more added to that list.

Fasha was there, though, and it was clear she was reliving memories of her own. She and Benjin had rescued Kenward and his crew from this very place, not to mention the fact that both of them had nearly died the first time Catrin had sailed to the Firstland. Truly, the air around Sinjin was a riot of emotion. Halmsa looked as if he might burst. The eggs had been still for weeks, and he looked as if his will and hope were spent. His people supported him, and that seemed to give him strength, but the man looked older already; truly this burden weighed on him.

Sinjin continued to have mixed feelings. Most of the time, he hoped the eggs would not hatch, but he felt guilty for thinking that. That was not what his mother would have wished, it was not what Halmsa and his people wished, but it was what Sinjin wished. The thought shamed him.

"It won't be much longer," Benjin said to Sinjin. "Once we enter the mouth of the river there, it's not all that far to the Eternal Guardians. Millie is working with Morif to get supplies ready for unloading. We'll just send up prepared food on the first trip. We should be able to get the rest on a second trip, though we'll want to leave a few people behind to keep the wildlife out of our stores."

The reality of what was happening pressed down on Sinjin's shoulders. The Dragon clan was settling here, and since he had nowhere else to go, he supposed he and those loyal to him were as well. Hard days were ahead, and he somehow knew he was grossly unprepared. Even with all of that, there was a sense of excitement, a new beginning, a chance to make things the way he thought they should be. It was then that he saw a massive black shark thrust itself from the water to grab a barking seal. The rest of the seals, which had previously been nearly invisible, now barked, hollered, and backed away from the water. Sinjin's enthusiasm was dampened by the reminder that this was a deadly place, a place of untamed wilderness; the creatures who ruled here were not human.

No more sharks showed themselves, and perhaps that was what made it even more terrifying. Sinjin knew he wasn't alone in moving away from the railing and watching the seas as if the shark might come for him at any moment. The Arghast pressed themselves closer to the deckhouse, and the valley walls seemed to encroach on them. As the sun sank lower in the sky, the shadow grew and the carvings of massive men stood out in exaggerated relief. Such baleful glares the ancients had left to greet them; it did not bode well, and few words were spoken. No matter how much enthusiasm there had been to end the journey, it was impossible not to be daunted in the face of such imposing architecture.

Benjin had been trying to warn the Arghast, via Halmsa, of some of what they would see, but nothing could have prepared them for the sight of the Eternal Guardians. As soon as the ship rounded the last twist in the narrow river valley before the mighty statues, the deck of the
Dragon's Wing
exploded with activity. A great clamor rose and echoed from the valley walls. Sinjin didn't think there was anyone living on the Firstland, but it still seemed to him that a stealthy approach might have been better. As it was, he saw ripples in the water ahead, great V-shaped formations with the tips pointing toward deep water. Sinjin couldn't be certain what kind of creatures these were, but he knew they were big and fast.

"Watch the waterline!" Benjin called out. "There may be unfriendly wildlife. If anything attacks the ship, kill it."

No attacks came but the air was rank with anxiety. Fasha did not take the ship any closer to the Eternal Guardians than she had to, and anchor was dropped.

"Lower half of the boats!" she ordered.

It took a moment for the experienced crew to show the Arghast what must be done. The tribesman, as always, impressed Sinjin. Given the language barrier, it could be easy to dismiss the nomads as unintelligent, but they had proven themselves to be anything but. They were clever, resourceful, and unbelievably self-reliant. Not a single time during the voyage had one of them asked Sinjin for help or even for an explanation of such unfamiliar surroundings.

Gwen stood near the stern, decidedly not looking at Sinjin. He considered asking Durin to talk to Gwen, to give her the chance to return Koe to him without them actually having to talk, but he realized it was a childish thing to do. Still, it was clear she was furious with him; she'd done nothing but glare at him ever since she'd seen him kiss Kendra. What had he been thinking? Now all he'd done was make things worse. Kendra was also avoiding him, though with her, the situation was a bit different; instead of glaring at him, she wouldn't meet his eyes. It was behavior he'd never seen from her before, and he had no idea how to respond.

"You'll never figure her out standing here," Benjin said.

Looking up, Sinjin flushed. Benjin wore a knowing smile. With a nod, Sinjin accepted his fate and stepped toward Gwen. He tried to ignore it when he heard Benjin say, "Of course, you'll never understand her that way either, m'boy, but better to clean the wound than to let it fester."

Gwen looked up as he approached and watched him with an unreadable expression. His steps nearly faltered. His heart raced and his skin felt as if it were on fire. Why did she make him feel this way? And why did he feel so drawn to her when she made him feel such anxiety? His hands reached out involuntarily, wanting to touch her, but she shrank away. Only then did Sinjin realize what he'd done. It wasn't a good start.

"You did it," Sinjin said finally. "You got us here in time."

"Hurray for me," Gwen said, looking at her boots.

"If not for you, we wouldn't have made it. You are
 . . . amazing."

Gwen harrumphed.

"I just wanted to say thank you--"

"No, you didn't," Gwen interrupted suddenly. "You didn't just want to say thank you, did you? You wanted the cat back."

The words stung Sinjin, mostly because they were true. He lowered his eyes.

Making a rude noise in her throat, Gwen reached into her pocket, pulled out Koe, and thrust the carving at Sinjin. Caught off his guard, he awkwardly accepted it.

"I wouldn't have asked for it back if you hadn't freaked out when I tried to give it to you!" Sinjin said and immediately wished he could take the words back.

Gwen huffed and walked away, disappearing down a hatch and into the hold.

Sinjin tried to accept the fact that he just never knew what to say to Gwen, and whenever he did open his mouth, he'd say something that even he knew was horrible.

Benjin shook his head but said nothing, for which Sinjin was grateful. Walking back to the prow, he searched out Pelivor. This would be a great deal easier, he hoped. Pelivor saw him coming and moved to meet him halfway. The deck was bustling with activity, and it took a concerted effort to get to one another. Bearing the staff, Pelivor looked even more regal than usual, and Sinjin was loathe to ask for it back, especially since it seemed to serve Pelivor so well. Sinjin started to get angry over the situation with Gwen again, but then he forced those feelings back down; Pelivor had certainly done nothing to raise his ire.

"It's been an honor to have use of the staff for this short time," Pelivor said. The gaze he cast over the fine wood and the intricate metal heel, complete with dragon ore in the eyes of the subtle serpent, was covetous.

Again, Sinjin wanted to give the staff to Pelivor, to relieve himself of the burden of caring for it and protecting it. Didn't everyone know he was powerless? How was he to protect such precious artifacts when he had no skill with which to wield them? His questions did not seem to matter, as Pelivor thrust the staff back into his hands.

Once again he possessed the greatest power in the world and could do nothing with it.

Chapter
14

Power in the hands of the meek is no power at all.

--Master Edling

* * *

The journey to Ri was something Sinjin thought might never end. Durin had already made it abundantly clear that he felt the same. In truth, Sinjin felt guilty for grumbling. The Dragon clan issued no such complaints; they saw their future here, and it was worth working hard for. It reminded Sinjin of something his grandfather always said. With that in mind, he shifted the load on his back and used trees along the rain-slicked trail to pull himself up the rise. Always up, Sinjin thought for an instant, then shook it off.

Beside him, Durin slipped and fell. Sinjin reached down and grasped Durin's hand to help him up; it was then that he saw the movement through the thick trees. Along with the movement came the snap of a branch, and Durin turned with wide eyes.

"Did you hear that?"

"I heard it and saw it," Sinjin whispered. Some members of the Dragon clan also whispered and spoke of something in the woods, which struck Sinjin as more of a jungle than forest. The vegetation was thick, and it was truly the Arghast at the front of the line who bore the greatest burden. Though they carried no packs, the ring of their blades split the air whenever they encountered growth too thick to traverse. It was at those times that Sinjin was glad to carry a sack of onions, even if it was a rather large and cumbersome sack.

After that incident, the mood of the group changed, and they climbed with an increased sense of urgency. If they were to face the Gholgi or some other foe, it would be best to do it from high ground. Sinjin knew of one such defensible position, though he also knew what else rested there: the very reason Benjin had not wanted Fasha to come. It was not much longer before the procession came to an abrupt halt. Sinjin thought he saw more movements through the trees, but he could hear little above the murmur that ran through those at the fore. Straining to see, Sinjin cursed; his view was blocked and would remain so for several minutes.

Finally Sinjin heard the words, "The Vale of the Herald." And not long after, he heard, "The place of dragons." It was vindicating to have the Dragon clan confirm that this was indeed the place of dragons, though the entire course of events felt surreal to him. Anxiety returned, full force, when he saw multiple shapes moving through the trees. The shadowy forms did not attack, but it was clear they were monitoring the progress of his party, and it gave him the crawls. Before he could say anything to Durin, the group started moving again, albeit slowly. Each new person who passed the entrance to his mother's vale drew a sharp breath or exclaimed, but all were moved to some reaction. In some ways, Sinjin didn't want to look since it was a window into a dark time for his mother. This land had almost killed her twice, and this place had been among her only salvations. Here, her people had been safe and here alone.

It did not escape Sinjin that this place was very defensible, with high and steep rock walls surrounding the grassy vale; beyond, he knew, was a massive drop overlooking the hollowed-out mountains. He'd heard about all these things, but seeing them was another experience entirely. So many things that had always seemed distant, ethereal, and perhaps even make believe were now in front of him. When he laid eyes on the
Slippery Eel,
the stories struck him over and over, and he found himself gasping for breath. The once beautiful ship told a tale of a nightmare voyage, one that had left her broken, scorched, and bearing massive claw marks. The ship lay on her side, and her masts and rigging were mostly gone. She looked as if she'd been there for ages, yet Sinjin knew better.

Sinjin was glad that Fasha did not have to see this, her brother's ship in such a state of destruction. Yet she wasn't destroyed; she'd continued to provide shelter for her crew even after being rendered unseaworthy. It was clear to Sinjin why his mother had chosen to summon Benjin and Fasha to collect the crew of the
Slippery Eel;
even if the ship could have been fixed, getting her back to the water would have been nearly impossible. Given some of the things he'd seen his parents, Pelivor, and Gwen do, he accepted the fact that there might have been some ways it could happen, but even those seemed perilous.

The people behind him also wanted their chance to see the vale, and Sinjin moved beyond the entrance. Like those before him, he was enthralled by the sight of the vale but had absolutely no intention of setting foot on those hallowed grasses. Sinjin had considered it since it might make him feel closer to his mother, but the
Slippery Eel
demanded his respect, and he chose not to disturb her grave. Behind him, he heard reactions not unlike his own, and he moved forward with grim determination. This was a challenge, indeed, on more levels than he had initially realized.

Beyond lay a nightmarish landscape--the remnants of his mother's and Kyrien's attempt to save the regent dragons. Huge circles of earth looked to have been turned inside out, and a forest appeared to have been yanked from the ground and cast across the expansive valley floor. Rising and disappearing into the mists were mighty peaks like none Sinjin had ever seen. Looking almost like layers of honeycomb stacked on top of one another, the hollow mountains seemed impossible. It looked as if they would collapse under their own weight. Brother Vaughn had once explained to him how miners would leave shafts of the hardest rock in place as supports and take out the softer rock instead. These mountains looked as if that was also the case here, and the structures formed by that hard rock were amazingly intricate and beautiful. As they drew closer, the structures were revealed to be even larger than Sinjin had imagined; the scale of it was difficult to conceive even when standing at the foot of such a mountain.

There was another, less hollowed-out mountain, where there were stairs and much smaller holes cut into the rock face. This, Sinjin knew, was where his mother had faced Archmaster Belegra, and one entranceway in particular stood out from the rest, the rock surrounding it blackened and scorched. Though that mountain seemed a more sensible place to settle, he decided not to offer any argument when Halmsa pointed to this mountain and said, "The place of dragons."

Scaling the rock structures proved easier than Sinjin would have guessed, which was a good thing considering the weight of the packs. He'd considered letting a scouting party go up first, but Halmsa had simply started climbing, and the rest of his tribe followed. What had looked completely smooth from a distance proved to be a scored and pocked surface that clearly had been shaped and formed by massive teeth.

"What do you think is up there?" Durin asked, sounding concerned.

"I don't know," Sinjin said, "but I don't think there will be any dragons there except the ones we brought with us; at least I sure hope not."

"Haven't seen any signs of them, but that doesn't mean they're not here. We should make sure we have an escape route. Maybe we should plan to meet back at--uh--your--uh--mom's vale if things go wrong. That place always kept everyone safe, right?"

Sinjin wasn't so certain it had been the vale that had kept everyone safe; it had been the dragons guarding the vale, and those dragons were now gone. Despite his worry, he kept climbing. The structure he'd been scaling brought him to a flat and level plane. More structures extended upward, some allowing access to higher levels and others branching into a solid stone surface that was presumably the floor of the next level. It amazed Sinjin that such a place could have been constructed or rather carved out of a mountain. The floors were worn smooth in places, and it was clear that there had been many dragons here and for a very long time. Most of the space was open, and in the distance, the stone ended and open air began.

Halmsa did not slow; he moved with a glazed-over look in his eyes, and he quickly found another formation that he could climb even with his delicate and cumbersome burden. It had amazed Sinjin that the man had made the entire climb carrying all the dragon eggs, but the Arghast had been unwilling to let anyone else carry them, saying that if anything happened to any of the eggs he had protected for so long, he would likely kill whoever was responsible. For that reason, he said, it was his burden alone to bear, for he would not risk any of those he held so dear.

It was difficult logic to argue, and Sinjin had given Halmsa an even wider berth to make sure he did not accidentally endanger the eggs. A cold feeling grew in his stomach, knowing he would face Halmsa if he decided the dragons could not be allowed to live. It was suicide, he knew, but he also knew that what had happened to Thorakis could not be allowed to happen again. The Dragon clan was made up of strong, intelligent, and capable people, and he did not want to imagine them under the control of the ferals.

Level after level was rejected by Halmsa, and his people followed without complaint. Durin, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. Though mostly under his breath, Durin continually asked Sinjin why Halmsa insisted on climbing the entire mountain. Surely one of the previous levels would have sufficed, Durin insisted, but he did keep moving, for which Sinjin was grateful. He did not want to have to choose between supporting his friend and doing what he felt bound by duty and responsibility to do. He'd come all this way to make sure the eggs Halmsa bore would not endanger the world, and he intended to do just that, even knowing he was inadequate for the task. If he died trying, then he would have died in a way that would have made his mother proud. That was the only thought that brought him any solace; that, and perhaps the sight of Kendra.

His relationship with her was one he still could not explain, but something had changed. Now when he looked at her, she would blush and turn away. This confused him more than when she had cast him dirty looks and called him names. This somehow felt better but made it no easier to figure out exactly what it was he was supposed to do. His jaw still ached from where she had slugged him, but if he closed his eyes, he could still taste her kiss.

"You're thinking about it again, aren't you?" Durin asked, and Sinjin flushed. "I knew it. I don't get you. That girl has been torturing you for years, and then you up and kiss her, and now here you are, daydreaming about her again. What are you, some kind of idiot? Why would you want to be with a girl who kisses you and then punches you in the lip?"

"I embarrassed her," Sinjin said. "I shouldn't have kissed her like that in front of everyone, and that's why she punched me."

"Unbelievable," Durin said. "I think all the punches you've been taking must've wiggled something in your head loose. You're not thinking straight at all. Gwen was always nice to you, and now she storms away at the mere mention of your name. You screwed up, my friend. Bad."

"I don't know what to do about either of them, and I don't know what I want."

"That's pretty obvious."

Sinjin would have said something sarcastic, but then they reached the seventh level of the hollow mountain. Here were the signs of a massive battle. Little was left besides weapons and bones, but the scale of it was daunting. This was the largest of the open expanses. Here the ceiling was high, and the spires supporting it, megalithic. The supports were also farther apart, leaving large expanses of open space. This was where the regent queen had lived.

Chunks of stone and rubble also littered the otherwise smooth stone floor, much of which was blackened. The air smelled of sulfur and the sea, and at last Halmsa signaled his people to lay down their burdens. Sinjin and Durin did so as well, and Sinjin stretched while Durin complained.

"I'm not sure I agree with Halmsa's tastes," he said.

Sinjin wasn't certain he understood either but was willing to give the man a chance. It was his instincts that had drawn them this far; it seemed a silly time to change that.

Halmsa wandered, still bearing his burden and looking confused. He'd come all this way, and now he seemed lost; it was a cruel fate. Sinjin watched the man intently, leaving Durin behind and following wherever Halmsa wandered. He seemed to have no set destination or even direction, and Sinjin could not understand what guided him, if anything at all.

He had a strange feeling then, like nothing he'd ever felt before. It was as if someone were tugging on his belt knife and the buckle on his pants. Even stranger, Halmsa moved in the same direction Sinjin now felt pulled. Soon he could almost predict Halmsa's movement, and the pulling grew stronger until Sinjin thought his knife might leap from its sheath. Moving his hand to the hilt, he looked around and saw the other Arghast following Halmsa and watching him. Sinjin could see swords tugging on sheaths, and he realized the danger. "Wait!" he said. Halmsa stopped and looked at him without humor. "It's magnetic. Keep swords and knives and other metal objects away from here. Check your swords."

It seemed the Arghast had already been aware of the tugging, and they moved quickly to lay down their weapons in an orderly fashion, well away from the tugging pull. Sinjin had never felt such massive magnetic force before; he'd seen lodestones at festivals, but those could not compare to this, what must be an enormous lodestone at the heart of this mountain. Could this be what Halmsa felt he needed? Was this what the dragons had dug into the mountain looking for? He doubted he would have answers any time soon, save perhaps one. Halmsa stopped moving and looked as if his burden were being pulled straight down. There he sat and there he laid out the eggs. It was the first time that Sinjin was able to count them--twenty-four in all. Thirty-five Dragon clan members had made the journey; eleven of them would be disappointed. Still, Sinjin felt a sense of accomplishment for what they had done. If not for their intervention, surely Halmsa and the Dragon clan would have perished trying to get there.