Dave Smeds - The Schemes of Dragons

"First, of course, you must journey to Cilendrodel, to obtain the gauntlets from Alemar and Elenya, the children of King Keron. From there you'll travel to Gloroc's capital, Dragonsdeep. It will be a hazardous mission, but I have high hopes. Thanks to a trap the Dragonslayer laid long ago, Gloroc has unwittingly left himself vulnerable."

Deena tightened her belt and checked her reflection in the burnished urn on her vanity table. "I'm ready," she told Toren.

The modhiv scanned her riding garments, a sentimental gleam in his eye. "Now you look like the woman I walked beside through the long leagues of the Wood." He gently brushed the underside of her chin, his habitual gesture of affection. "Though I was getting used to the accommodating temple girl."

She stroked his wrist. "I may be friendlier on this road than on the last." They grinned knowingly at each other.

"Come, then," he said, smile fading. "The rest of the party should be there by now."

Pinpricks of nervousness danced along the soles of Deena's feet as they walked toward Janna's dome. No safe haven at the end of this journey. But she could not have stayed, as Toren had suggested, not when she had a chance for revenge. The ghosts of her family clung to the hem of her cloak.

Three guards nodded gruffly at the entrance to the dome. An empty chamber greeted Toren and Deena as they stepped in. The opening to the stairs yawned. They descended without pause.

Deena heard the shuffle of feet and hooves and the murmur of voices even before they reached the bottom. The great frog, as motionless as the statue in the amphitheater above, waited at the far side of the audience chamber. To the left stood Janna. To the right Geim and a group of five temple guards clustered near the wall, holding a dozen oeikani-eight handsome saddle animals and four sturdy pack beasts with heavy loads.

Deena wondered how the oeikani had been brought underground, but was not surprised to see them. One became accustomed to the incredible at the temple of Struth.

The men seemed glad to see Toren and Deena. Their glances darted nervously in the direction of the frog god. Deena, who had only seen the goddess twice face to face, empathized with them.

"The party is assembled," Struth boomed. "Tarry no longer. I have waited more than a thousand years to see Gloroc fall. Remember what I have shown you, Toren."

Toren nodded. Of all those present, he alone faced Struth squarely.

The modhiv patted Deena on the shoulder and strode alone to the wall near the assembled travellers. "Cover your eyes," he said loudly.

Deena did as she was told. Daylight blazed into the chamber, banishing the werelight, shining red between the gaps of her fingers. The oeikani cried in confusion, dancing on their cloven hooves. Blinking, Deena faced the other way. She saw Struth towering toward the ceiling, ugly and horrific in the full illumination. She gulped and turned back to the wall.

Where dank stone had been, now the view showed a mountain valley, deep in shadow, thick with trees. A meadow spread out before them, lush green, dotted with wildflowers, waterlogged from the midsummer run-off from the glaciers much higher up.

Toren lowered his hand. Deena noticed that he lacked a lens or other talisman. It seemed to be no strain to him to keep the portal open without one. Perhaps it was as Obo had once hinted to her: A portal was a talisman, for those who could use it that way.

It was at times such as these that Toren was a stranger to her. The scope of his sorcery chilled her.

Toren smiled ironically at Geim. "Your turn to go first, my friend." To the whole party he said, "Remember to keep your mouths open as you pass through. There will be a slight change in the pressure of the air."

Geim gathered the reins of his animal and one of the pack beasts and stepped through. The other men followed in disciplined order. Toren gave Deena both of their mounts. "You showed me how to do this once," he said, and chuckled.

She smiled, knotted the reins tightly around her hand, and pulled her charges through. The usual slight tingle flitted across her skin as she crossed the line. Abruptly her ears felt as if they had been skewered with needles. She worked her jaw. Her eardrums popped five times in a row.

The oeikani did not appreciate the change in altitude, either. She pulled them forward across the spongy grass, momentarily awed by the magnificence of the snowcapped peaks. The ranges just north of Serthe were foothills by comparison.

"The Syril," Geim said. "I wandered through these mountains once, a year before I came to Headwater."

Deena began to fret. Toren had not come through, and she could see only a black rectangle behind her. Finally he appeared. He winced at the pressure shift and waved his hand, closing the portal.

"Problems?" she asked.

"A farewell kiss from Janna," he said, straight-faced. Her eyes flashed. He grinned. She slapped him good-naturedly. Perhaps she had misjudged his composure in the face of Struth; he seemed tremendously relieved to be out of her sight.

"The frog god seems to have a portal for every occasion," she commented. The annoying ring in her ears was fading.

"Far from it," Toren replied. "Portals are rare. Struth chose to build her temple there partly because of the presence of that one. For escape."

"Struth needing escape? That's a frightening thought."

"I don't think she's ever had cause to use it," he replied. "In any event, it's mostly luck that we had a short cut north. As it is, we still have a long journey out of these mountains and across the western half of Cilendrodel."

The sun blossomed into incandescent glory along the ridgeline to the east. Toren stepped forward, reconnoitering. To either side rose towering cordilleras. The terrain would force them to ride due north for many leagues, even though their destination lay eastward. The meadow loam sucked noisily at his heels. Thickets of aspen and birch shivered in a brisk alpine wind. A falcon skimmed above a barren, scree-ridden slope. A partridge suddenly bolted from concealment.

"No settlers, plenty of game," he said. "For once may we travel with no incident." Deena could tell he was pleased to be moving, gratified to be in command.

"Let's ride," Toren said, and helped Deena into her saddle.

THE SOUND OF RUSTLING cloth pulled Elenya gently out of slumber. She opened her eyes. A beam of light shone down through a pinhole in the fabric, announcing the presence of full day. Alemar was sitting cross-legged with one of the water bags in his lap. From time to time he would sip.

She raised up on one elbow. The euphoric feeling of the night before had dimmed, but she still felt wonderful-alive, rested, tranquil. She smiled. He nodded calmly.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome."

"How are you feeling?"

He sipped again, held the water in his mouth, and swallowed. "What's important now is how you feel."

"What about your powers?" she insisted. "Does this mean that they've come back?"

Alemar smiled wistfully, and played with the pattern of the blanket like a boy lost in a dream. His eyelids hung half-closed. "I'm not ready to talk about that just yet. I have some… things to do, things to think about."

After the events of the preceding night, Elenya felt closer to her brother than she would have thought possible. It was a shock to be suddenly outside of him, cut off from his thoughts. She rose into a kneeling position, wearing a small frown.

"I would like you to fetch my wife," Alemar said.

She didn't want to be put off, but she wouldn't argue, not when she was feeling so peaceful. She crawled over to Alemar and kissed his cheek. He hugged her, and his firm fingers pressing into her back told her that she was not being banished-she was still loved. She, who had fretted that he had seen too much in the journey into her past, sighed and held him close.