Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

“How is she?” he asked.

“She is alive,” answered the healer. “All of her bones are solid, and all of her internal organs appear to be functioning, but not much more.”

“What do you mean?” Marak asked with alarm.

“I mean that technically, she is alive,” answered the mage, “but she is not awake, and she is not exactly sleeping, either. I am afraid that is the best we can do. She will never fly again. In fact, I doubt that she will ever wake up.”

“Where is Lyra?” Marak asked harshly as he rose swiftly.

“She went to sleep over there a couple of hours ago,” answered the mage. “There is nothing that she can do. Let her sleep.”

Marak left in the direction the mage had pointed and found Lyra with several dozen other mages. The Star of Sakova was fast asleep. Marak bent over and gently shook her. Lyra’s eyes creaked open, and she stared up at the Torak.

“I am sorry,” Lyra said when she realized why Marak was there.

“Come with me,” commanded the Torak.

Lyra sighed and rubbed her eyes. She dutifully rose and followed Marak back to the dragon. The Torak dismissed the attending mage and sat Lyra down in his place.

“Marak,” she said, “I am tired. I know that Myka is not how you expected her to be, but we have done all that we can do.”

“If you had done all that you could,” retorted the Torak, “Myka would now be complaining about the lousy conditions of her surroundings.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Marak,” Lyra said with a bit of annoyance. “You cannot just wish her better. I know how much she means to you, but she is beyond our help.”

“But she is not beyond Kaltara’s help,” countered the Torak. “Do you not remember what you did for StormSong? I heard the stories of that miraculous day. I want another one.”

“I don’t even know what I did that day,” confessed Lyra. “I cannot remember it very well, and it has never happened again. I just don’t know what more I can do.”

“You are His servant, Lyra,” Marak said imploringly. “You may not understand what happened that day, but I do, and I was not even there.”

“What are you saying?” asked Lyra.

“I want you to pray for her,” answered Marak. “You have done all that your magic is capable of, but you have forgotten who gave you that magic. All of your power emanates from Him, and you have not used that greatest power yet to help Myka.”

Lyra looked at Marak with sudden understanding. She had prayed for Myka, but not in the same way as she had with StormSong, not with the same intensity. She had relied on her use of magic to heal the dragon, even when she knew there was a greater power available for her.

“You are right,” the Star of Sakova declared. “Join me in prayer.”

“No,” replied Marak. “I have another task to do while you pray.”

“And what is that?” balked Lyra. “You have just pointed out that my failure was one of prayer, and now you refuse to do what you asked of me. What could possibly be more important?”

“You,” smiled Marak. “You are exhausted. I know that you have the power within you to heal Myka, but I will be using my power to heal you while you do Kaltara’s will. Begin.”

Lyra smiled and bowed her head in prayer. She placed both hands on the dragon’s snout and closed her eyes. Marak stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders and then closed his eyes in prayer as he fed his energy into the Star of Sakova.

Princess Alastasia woke from the nap she had succumbed to. She sat up and looked around the elven camp and saw that most were still sleeping. As she sat quietly trying to wake up, she noticed that most of the missing were mages. She watched as two elven mages left the camp in the direction of the dragon’s resting place. She assumed that they were going to see if any further progress had been made. She rose and walked towards the nearest campfire to get something to eat. She noticed several other groups of mages rise and walk out of the camp. She looked for returning elves to get a progress report on the dragon, but none of the mages ever returned. Filled with curiosity, she put down her morning meal and left the camp to see for herself.

When she stepped into the large clearing, the elven princess halted in wonder. She saw Lyra kneeling next to Myka’s snout and Marak directly behind her with his hands on her shoulders. Surrounding the dragon and her two friends was a strange, mysterious glow. It was as if the three servants of Kaltara were encased in a magical, protective shield.

“This is strangely familiar,” StarWind commented.

Princess Alastasia turned and looked questioningly at the Sakovan spymaster.

“The same thing happened the day Lyra healed StormSong,” StarWind continued. “No one has ever been able to explain it to me. Much of what Lyra does is unexplainable.”

“But Marak was not there that day in the Sakova,” frowned Princess Alastasia. “What is he doing?”

“I am not sure,” responded StarWind, “but if I had to guess, I would say that he is feeding energy into Lyra. If so, he is wise indeed. After Lyra healed StormSong and the others, she was totally spent, both physically and mentally. He must know what she is doing and how it will affect her. I mean Myka is much larger than StormSong. It will take everything Lyra has to heal her.”

A look of sudden understanding came over the elven princess’s face as she nodded in agreement.

“You are wiser than you know,” chirped Princess Alastasia as she dashed away.

The Sakovan spymaster looked confused as the elven princess ran to a large group of elven mages. HawkShadow walked up behind Star Wind and hugged her.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I am just observing,” replied StarWind as she curiously watched the elven mages begin speaking excitedly. “I think MistyTrail is up to something.”

“What exactly is she up to?” asked the Sakovan assassin.

“I do not know,” admitted StarWind. “We will have to wait and see.”

They did not have long to wait. Princess Alastasia started giving orders to the elves, and the mages began gathering near the dragon’s snout. None of them touched the dragon, but hundreds of hands stretched out to touch Lyra and Marak. The Chula shamans who had also gathered to watch the strange glow must have understood what the elves were doing, because they quickly joined in, and the crowd surrounding Lyra and Marak grew until there was no more room for anyone to get near. The mages who could not personally reach the servants of Kaltara put their hands on the mages who could reach. Within moments, the strange glow spread across the whole crowd.

“They are joining in,” HawkShadow remarked. “I wonder what they are doing.”

“They are healing Lyra and Marak,” answered King Avalar as he walked up behind HawkShadow. “Those that cannot reach are healing the healers.”

“Shouldn’t you join them then?” asked StarWind.

“Not yet,” the elven king shook his head. “I do not know how long it will take for Lyra to do whatever it is she is doing, but there must be mages available to take the place of those who tire. I will form a second group to relieve the others as they grow weak.”

“So you do not know what Lyra is doing then?” asked HawkShadow.

“No,” King Avalar shook his head. “I have heard the stories of the day the Star of Sakova healed StormSong and the tent full of wounded, but I have no explanation for it. It is either a type of magic of which the elves have no comprehension, or it is something more than magic.”

“I believe it is prayer,” said a new voice.

Avalar and the Sakovans turned around and saw Rejji standing not far behind them. The Fakaran king walked forward and joined the group as they turned to stare at the mysterious glow, which was getting brighter by the minute.