The Dragon of Trelian (21 page)

Most people, if they wore anything, wore the bright sun sign of the Goddess. The Hunter was a darker figure, dispensing the cold justice people sometimes deserved as a result of their actions. He was also called the Harvester, representing the idea that people reaped what they chose to sow. Serek had always emphasized that point.
Some mages become too enthralled with their own power,
he’d told Calen more than once.
They forget that directing that power appropriately is as important as being able to use it in the first place. You must never let your ability to cast a spell cloud your view of what that spell will achieve. Or destroy.

Meg let the charm fall back against Calen’s chest, smiling bitterly. “Maybe someone should have given one of these to Sen Eva,” she said.

“Someone definitely should have,” Calen said seriously. “She should have received her charm at the same time she received her initiate tattoo. That she has neither of those things . . .” He didn’t know if Meg really understood how wrong it was for Sen Eva to be able to use magic so anonymously. “I don’t know what’s worse,” he said. “That Sen Eva is secretly a mage or that there’s someone out there who was willing to train her in secret. No mage should be willing to do such a thing.”

“Much has happened that should not have,” Meg said quietly. “And our only chance of setting any of it right is getting home as quickly as possible.” She slipped her feet into her shoes and pushed herself up from the ground. He grabbed his shirt and followed her example.

Calen was beginning to get an idea.

He and Meg had fallen back into silence as they continued to make their way through the unfamiliar forest. At first, walking had seemed to make sense, at least made it seem like they were doing something, but it was becoming increasingly clear to both of them that they would never get home this way. And Calen knew that the only real chance they had was sorcery — magic had brought them here, somehow, and he would have to find a way to use it to send them back.

It was obvious that none of the spells he had learned would be enough in themselves. But the flicker of an answer he’d received from Serek in response to his summons suggested that the limitations he believed existed were not necessarily accurate. He was beginning to understand that there were layers of magic, and while a certain spell might not be able to help them in their current situation, perhaps the underlying principle could be applied in a different way. Serek had spoken with him directly, through the summoning connection Calen had established. It seemed clear that they were too far away for that connection to work again; even if it were just a question of Calen’s skill not being strong enough, Serek would have contacted them by now if it had been possible to do so. Still, perhaps there was another way. If such communication was possible as long as a link could be established, then all he had to do was figure out another way to form that link. . . .

It was thinking of the connection as a link that gave him the idea. But there was so much he didn’t know. It could be dangerous. It would almost certainly be dangerous. But there was so much at stake. Maybe it would be worth the risk. He knew that Meg would agree instantly to try his idea if he proposed it. With no regard for what might happen to her as a result. Which meant it was his responsibility to figure out if it would be safe before he said anything. Which was impossible, because Serek had never taught him anything like this, and he had no books to refer to or any other way to learn more without just going ahead and trying it out. Which meant he should keep his mouth shut and think of something else.

Meg walked slightly ahead of him, pushing through the occasional patches of taller plants that blocked their way. She was still trying to be brave, but he could see her slowly succumbing to hopelessness and despair. Sometimes she seemed to have to fight to keep her head up and her feet moving. It tore at Calen, but he knew better than to say anything. She would never forgive him for noticing.

He tried to think of something to talk about, just to break the silence and distract her from whatever dark thoughts were going through her mind. No topic seemed safe, though. Family? No. Home? No. He supposed he could say something about the weather, but surely . . .

A sudden sound from the trees up ahead made them both stop midstep.

When the sound didn’t repeat, Calen edged up slowly to stand beside Meg.

“What was that?” he whispered.

“Some small animal, I think,” she said. “A squirrel or . . .”

Then they heard something else — something much larger — go crashing through the underbrush. This was followed by a squeak of terror and then a small animal cry of pain. Then some unpleasant crunching sounds.

It was too much. Calen grabbed Meg’s hand and pulled her backward, stepping softly and praying to all the gods that he didn’t trip on a root or stone. After several seconds of back-stepping, they quietly turned and began to run.

They ran until they couldn’t hear anything behind them, and then they kept running a little farther for good measure. Calen found them another stream, so they could get some water to drink. Meg looked ashy and shaken, and Calen assumed he looked the same.

“It was probably just another animal,” Meg said finally. “A bigger one, looking for dinner. Just, you know, nature taking its course.”

Calen nodded. “Sure. Probably not even a dangerous animal. Probably would have run away if it had heard us coming.”

They looked at each other silently.

“We’re never going to get back,” Meg said brokenly. Calen couldn’t stand to see the pain and sadness in her eyes when she looked at him. He was failing her. She was too kind to say it, but he knew it was true.

“I have an idea,” he said reluctantly.

Her face lit with sudden hope. It was almost as painful to Calen as her sadness had been.

“Wait,” he said. “I don’t even know if it will work.”

“But it’s something to try, isn’t it? Come on, Calen, if you’ve thought of something we can try, we have to do it! You know we’re not going to make it back this way.”

He did know that. That had to mean trying was the right thing to do, didn’t it?

Meg was watching him expectantly.

“All right,” he said. “Can you still feel your link with Jakl?”

“Yes, but what does that —”

He held up a hand to stop her. Princesses were so impatient! “Do you think, if you could reach him, he’d be able to help us? Would he try to come and find you?”

“I’m certain he would. But Calen, I can’t communicate with him that way. You know that. Even when I’m right beside him, I can’t send him my thoughts. Just feelings.”

“I know. But I think there might be a way I could use my summoning spell, the one I used to contact Serek before we, uh, left. I think I might be able to send it through you, through your link to Jakl.”

She blinked. “You can do that?”

“Well, that’s the thing. I don’t know. I
think
so, but I’ve never tried anything like this before. That’s why I didn’t say anything right away, when . . .” He trailed off. Meg’s eyes had narrowed dangerously.

“What do you mean
right away
? How long have you been keeping this to yourself?”

Oops.
Calen took what he hoped was a casual step back, trying to put himself out of reach of Meg’s hands, which looked like they wanted to curl into fists. “Not, um, not very long. I just didn’t want to say anything until I felt more sure it would work. But then I realized that I’ll never be sure unless we try it. There’s no other way to know.” He waited nervously to see if she was going to hit him.

Meg looked at his face and then down at her half-formed fists. Her expression softened slightly, and she clasped her hands together in front of her. Then she met his eyes squarely. “All right, then,” she said. “Let’s try it.”

“Now, wait, Meg —”

She threw up her hands. “Calen,
what
?”

“Stop rushing me!” he shouted, suddenly furious with her. “This is important! I don’t even know what this could do to you. It might hurt you. It might hurt Jakl. It might do irreparable damage to your stupid, stubborn brain, for all I know! Don’t you ever think about possible consequences before you leap headfirst into action? Don’t you think it might be a good idea to get all the information before plunging ahead? What if it kills you? What if I screw it up and I end up killing you both? Or all three of us? What if I kill you and it drives Jakl mad and he goes on a killing spree until there’s no one left alive in the whole entire kingdom?”

He stopped and they stood staring at each other.

Finally Meg shook her head. “You sure do worry a lot, don’t you?” she said softly. She stepped toward him. “I’m sorry, Calen. You’re right. I’m glad one of us is thinking about these things. I’m just so desperate to do something — anything — that might get us home in time to save my sister. Even if you’re right about all the things that could go wrong, I still want to try.” She paused, then added, “If you’re willing.”

Calen sighed. His anger was gone as quickly as it had come, and now he just felt weary. “I’m willing,” he said. “I just wanted you to know that it could be dangerous. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“That’s all right,” she said, smiling. “I trust you.”

He had to smile back. “You’re crazy,” he said. “
I
don’t even trust me right now.”

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s try it before one or both of us loses our nerve.”

They found a large rock, and Calen had them sit down facing each other. Then, because it seemed like the right thing to do, he reached over and placed his fingertips lightly against the sides of her face. Closing his eyes, he started to clear his mind. Meg giggled.

He opened his eyes. “What?” he asked irritably.

“You look so serious.”

He scowled at her, but it just made her giggle harder. “Meg!”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s very serious.” She tried to force her grin into a frown.

“You’d better close your eyes, too,” he said finally. “And concentrate! I want you to focus on your connection to Jakl. Picture him in your mind as clearly as you can.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. When he was reasonably sure she wasn’t going to peek, he closed his own eyes again. Once his mind was clear, he reached out through his fingertips, trying to spread his awareness to include the image Meg was forming.

“Meg,” he said softly, not wanting to break her concentration, “try to share the image with me, if you can. Think about opening your mind just enough to let me see the picture you’ve created.”

“Okay,” she said hesitantly.

Calen waited, trying to allow the image to come to him. And then it did. He could see Jakl clearly, and he knew it was Meg’s image and not his own from the level of detail — she included things he wouldn’t have even remembered. It wasn’t telepathy, exactly — more like they were working together to create the spell, using a shared space that included both their minds.

“Good,” he whispered. “That’s good. Now hold that image in your mind and think about your link with him. Try to picture the link as a physical thing, like a long tunnel that connects the two of you.” Calen reached forward with delicate tendrils of white energy, letting Meg’s images guide him. When she had the tunnel firmly pictured, he began to send his spell through it, trying to reach Jakl in the same way he’d reached Serek not so very long ago.

But something was wrong. She had made the tunnel too narrow, as though she were afraid of allowing anything to go through it. And when he tried to reach through the narrow space, he found something blocking the way. Her walls were still up, he realized. She was still afraid of letting Jakl share her emotions too closely.

“Meg,” he said gently, “you’ve got to open the link. You have to take down the barriers completely.”

“They are down,” she whispered back. “I took them down. It’s just the distance; it makes it seem like there’s a wall there. . . .”

“No, Meg. There is a wall. Maybe you didn’t mean to, but you’ve placed it there to keep yourself separate from him. And you have to let go if this is going to work.”

She swallowed. Calen could sense her struggling, but she managed to keep the images in her mind all the same.
Good,
he thought.
Keep focused; just open up. . . .

For a moment the tunnel widened, the barrier thinned to near transparency, but just as Calen sought to reach through it, it closed up again. “Can’t,” Meg whispered miserably. “Calen, I can’t. If I let him all the way in . . . he’ll be everywhere. I have to hold on to some part of myself that’s just me. . . .”

He hadn’t realized how much she’d been keeping the dragon separate from her. That wasn’t the way the link was supposed to work. He’d taught her about putting up the barriers as temporary things — the books suggested the ancient dragon-linked had sometimes put up barriers to sleep or to dim their connections while their dragons were hunting or mating. But it was never meant to be used as a permanent wall. It couldn’t be good for the dragon, or for Meg. Not long-term. Once the link was established, both human and dragon needed that connection. It was part of who they were. He had thought Meg understood that.

“Meg, it’s the only way. You can’t go on keeping him out. Not just for the spell to work, but for both of you to survive. . . .”

“No, you’re wrong; it’s been fine. We’re doing fine.” Meg was still fighting with the link, fighting with herself, trying to open the tunnel enough to let Calen through but keep it closed enough to keep Jakl out. The images were beginning to waver. Calen couldn’t steady them. It didn’t matter, anyway, he realized. If Meg couldn’t let go of the barrier, there was no way he’d be able to reach through to summon Jakl. It wasn’t going to work. This was probably their only chance, but if Meg couldn’t let go . . .

“No,” she whispered. “Maerlie.” She must have sensed some part of his thoughts through the edges of his spell. He felt her fighting against her own fear, trying to take down the walls she’d erected. He longed to help her, but there was nothing he could do; she was the only one who could make the choice to fully open the link. The images of Jakl and the tunnel steadied, and the tunnel walls began to stretch slightly, his sense of the barrier beginning to disappear . . . Calen waited, ready to reach through to Jakl as soon as the way was open, in case Meg couldn’t hold it for long. The tension inside her mind was terrible. She was the strongest-willed person he had ever met, but she was fighting against herself, and her fear and determination were equally powerful.