Richard Tuttle - Winged Warrior

“He is going to preposition supplies there,” gasped Tamar. “Once the fighting begins, he will have no need to have his ships crossing the ocean.”

“Exactly,” nodded Marak. “Zaramilden, however, is too close to Duran by sea be left unconquered. Any of our ships based in Zaramilden would be a threat to his resupply effort, but if we evacuate it, they no longer have to bother attacking it.”

“Does that mean that he will also attack Raven’s Point?” asked Avalar. “It is Khadora’s only major seaport on the eastern coast.”

“It is also twice as far from Duran as Zaramilden is,” replied Emperor Marak. “If we have an appreciable navy at Raven’s Point, he will be compelled to attack it, otherwise he does not have to hurry.”

“He will want to destroy your navy before the war commences,” declared Tamar. “He is too vulnerable at sea. He will not risk losing a thousand men at a time when one of his ships goes down. His assured victory rests on getting a million men ashore.”

“Half that number might be enough to destroy all of us,” frowned Emperor Marak. “We still don’t have a good handle on the magic that they use, or the number of mages that will be included in that million men.”

“Well,” smiled King Avalar, “you will have the elves to help balance the fight. You will not find a finer archer in the world.”

“I look forward to seeing your men in action,” smiled the Torak, “but I would prefer to keep the knowledge of your involvement secret for a while. Using the elves when Vand least expects it will have the greatest impact.”

“I agree,” interjected Tamar. “After King Avalar’s escape from the Island of Darkness, Vand will be looking for proof of any elven involvement in this war. The best plan is to deny him that knowledge until it is too late for him to compensate for it.”

“Coordinating will be the hardest part,” declared the Torak. “I am sure that Alahara and Alastasia can teach your mages how to use an air tunnel, but I am no longer sure how secure that is. I believe that Vand now has knowledge of air tunnels.”

“If we are cautious in their use,” interjected Princess Alastasia, “I think it would be hard for Vand to know it. At any given time there must be hundreds of air tunnels in existence. Even if he knew how to listen in, he couldn’t intercept all of those messages. He would concentrate on messages that involved you or Lyra. Those are the ones most likely to give him the information that he needs.”

“I will try to get information from Aakuta about their knowledge of air tunnels,” offered the Torak. “Teach the spell to the elven mages. Even if messages can be intercepted, we need the capability to communicate.”

“Alastasia and I can become Mistake and MistyTrail again,” suggested Princess Alahara. “We know how to act human and not be taken for elves. We are known in Angragar at least, and we can go there for meetings to avoid using the air tunnels.”

“There is some benefit to that suggestion,” Emperor Marak replied thoughtfully. “Rejji can get you quickly from Angragar to Khadoratung or StarCity. In fact, Lyra could probably use your help right now. She is short on people that she can trust.”

“Is that necessary?” Queen Alycia asked anxiously. “They are needed here.”

“Do not try to protect them,” King Avalar said to the queen softly, but firmly. “They are true Kierans and can take care of themselves. When the time comes for the elves to fight, I fully expect my daughters to be leading armies of elves. The danger in their lives is something that you must get used to.”

Alahara’s and Alastasia’s eyes widened with surprise, but Queen Alycia bit her lower lip to forestall the tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes. She stared at the princesses for a moment and finally nodded before turning and retreating to her chambers.

Myka glided high in the sky over the Island of Darkness while Marak and MistyTrail gazed down at the enemy’s stronghold. The elf and the human were wrapped warmly in cloaks provided by King Avalar to protect them against the chill of high altitudes.

“This gives a new appreciation of what Vand has accomplished,” remarked the Torak. “The harbors are overflowing with ships.”

“And I did not properly imagine the size of the other cities on the island,” added MistyTrail. “They are actually much larger than Vand’s city. I wonder why.”

“I would suspect that the mines and quarries are located towards the sound end of the island,” mused the Torak. “That is where Vand would require the most labor to prepare for the coming war. I wish Captain Mynor had given those cities names. It would help in our planning.”

“They have names,” offered MistyTrail. “Avalar told them to me. He has an incredible amount of knowledge about the island for someone who never left the cells in the temple.”

“Twenty years is a long time to listen to the banter of the jailers without learning something,” shrugged Marak. “What are the names of the cities?”

“The three southern cities are Eldamar, Sudamar, and Teramar, going from east to west,” answered MistyTrail. “The northern city is named Vandamar.”

“I will see that our charts are updated to reflect the names,” responded the Torak. “Without this flight over the island, I would have been tempted to concentrate on learning what is happening in Vandamar, but the real preparation for war would not be taking place there.”

“See where the jungle ends along the beach?” MistyTrail pointed excitedly as Myka flew over the western coast of the island. “That is where we escaped from the island with Eltor and Caldal. You can see the reefs offshore where our boat sunk.”

“We are going to dive shortly,” warned Myka. “The sun is setting, and I want to fly close to the water to avoid being seen in the glow of the sunset. It will be an abrupt dive to limit the amount of time that we are visible. Anyone seeing us will think twice about reporting a dragon diving into the sea. Hang on.”

Marak grabbed his knife and stuck it deep into the hole in the dragon’s scale. MistyTrail wrapped her arms tightly around the Torak, and they waited for the dive.

Myka continued gliding high in the sky until they were well away from the Island of Darkness. Without a word of warning, she pulled her wings in close to her body and plummeted like a rock. The force of the wind threatened to blow Marak off the back of the dragon as he gripped the knife with both hands. The air stung as it whipped his face and arms, and his stomach felt as if it had been left behind high above him. His eyes were closed tightly, and the rushing wind created such a loud noise that he barely heard MistyTrail screaming behind him.

While the dive only took seconds, it felt as if it lasted for hours. Without warning, Myka’s wings flared out, and Marak’s body slammed into the dragon’s back. He almost lost his grip on the knife. The Torak opened his eyes to see the crests of the waves only a few paces below him. He became acutely aware of the ring of pain around his waist and immediately thought of MistyTrail.

“Are you alright?” he asked the elven princess.

“I am now,” panted MistyTrail. “I hope I didn’t break your ribs. I thought I was going to be blown away.”

“You are not alone in that feeling,” Marak replied.

“You did well for your first dive,” quipped Myka. “I feel confident that they did not hear your screams back in Elvangar.”

“We will have to go high again when we reach the coast of the Sakova,” Marak said. “I want to fly over Duran and the Wall of Mermidion.”

“We can fly as high as you want after a while down here close to the water,” answered Myka. “Soon we will be out of sight of the watchers on the Island of Darkness.”