Brian Rathbone - The Dawning of Power

Catrin was near; he could feel her presence. Despite Belegra's madness, he could not risk reaching out to her. The last time he had, Belegra had fallen on him, demanding to know what he'd been doing, full of suspicion and rage. Prios had endured the beating and stuck to his original tale: he'd been searching for their foes, keeping watch for danger. Belegra had not believed him, but other matters distracted him, and Prios lived in fear of the moment Belegra remembered his treachery.

Staring up at the heights, he prepared himself to play the role of faithful slave, though it sickened him more each time. Soon he would be free, all this but a memory. Reaching the ancient stone stair, which provided sure footing, Prios barely looked where he was going.

Waiting inside the gaping cavern, Belegra paced, impatience clear in his posture. "Is that all you've brought back? That is barely enough for half a day. When Vedregon returns, I'll have you flogged for your failure!"

Prios did not bother to tell him that Mark Vedregon was dead, along with all the other soldiers and the rest of the cadre. Those who had not been killed by the Gholgi or disease where taken by the sea. Prios had tried to tell Belegra the truth, but he refused to hear; instead, Belegra always claimed he would have Prios beaten or tortured when the soldiers returned.

Taking the basket of fish to the hole in the cavern wall, Prios prepared to feed Kyrien.

"He's too weak to come to you. Get in there and feed him," Belegra said. His eyes wild with fervor, he licked his lips.

Prios could not help feeling that Belegra wanted Kyrien to eat him instead of the fish. Leaving the basket right under the hole, he straddled it and pulled himself into the foul-smelling chamber. The hole was barely large enough to admit the basket, but he yanked it through. Kyrien cowered in the back of the chamber, his green-flecked gold eyes fixed on Prios, following his every movement.

Dumping the basket not far from Kyrien's head, Prios backed away. Kyrien sniffed the fish and snorted, then smacked Prios with his tail.

"Clean up while you're in there," Belegra said.

Prios did as he was told, despite every instinct telling him to flee the crowded cell. Kyrien hated him, and Prios feared the beast would rip him to shreds if he ever overcame his fear of Belegra. For now, Kyrien simply cowered in the back of his cell, and when the sun was high, he wailed.

Filled with horror, Catrin awoke, still leaning against the mass of granite. When she tried to rise, her body was sluggish. Slowly, she felt the blood returning to her limbs, and she stood. Echoing through the vale was a haunting call; like the cries of a wounded animal, it was filled with despair and, at times, an odd glimmer of hope. Hearing it made Catrin want to cry.

In a sudden rush, memories of the previous day overwhelmed her, and she looked down at her leg. Her leggings were tattered and missing the section she had cut away. Beneath were scabbed gashes where her open wounds had been. The flesh around them was pink and smooth, but she could move without a great deal of pain, and she wondered if her memories could be real. Had she truly healed herself?

Closing her eyes, she located her center then the wall that stood between her conscious and subconscious minds. No matter how hard she tried, she could not make the wall whole again. Always one stone was missing, and the mortar that filled the hole was riddled with cracks and fissures that allowed the brilliant light to pour through. With a deep breath, she made herself open her eyes. She was still alive, and she chose to treat every new moment as a gift. She should be dead-she knew it, and now she needed to make the best of what she had.

The keening wails continued, and Catrin firmed her resolve. She would find the poor creature and ends its misery. Even as the thought entered her mind, Catrin sensed a shift in the energy around her, and the vale was transformed. No more were the grasses littered with boulders; in their places stood dragons. Tall and proud, they surrounded her.

In awestruck fascination, Catrin watched the only remaining boulder, the one she had slept against, unfold itself. Granite-colored skin shifted and moved and began to take on a greenish hue, as if reflecting the grasses around it. A massive head on a serpentine neck moved in front of Catrin's face and oscillated back and forth in a hypnotic motion.

Free him.

Overwhelming compulsion came with the raw emotion of the message. It was not like the way Belegra controlled his cadre, it was more like a melding of intentions. The strength of the desire blended with Catrin's own desire, and her will to accomplish the task became one with the dragon she faced.

Raising itself up to its full height, standing on its two powerful legs, the majestic dragon spread its wings and moved its head back down to Catrin. With a touch more gentle than she would have imagined possible, it pushed her with its rock-hard maw.

Go.

The command was palpable, but Catrin refused to leave just yet. She remembered the sensations she had felt the night before and the messages she had perceived. Looking the dragon in the eye, Catrin drew herself up with all the courage she could muster. "Thank you," she said. "All of you."

The dragons all raised a keening wail to match that of the one she heard from above, and Catrin left them behind, determined to succeed. Following the sound proved difficult in a place where the echoes had a life of their own, but she moved with purpose, using her staff to provide stability in rough places.

As she drew nearer, sound overwhelmed her other senses, and for a time, she moved without seeing, only the call guiding her. Looking up, she saw the side of a mountain covered with winding stairs and crumbling roadways. At seemingly random intervals, grand entranceways dotted the rock face. The wails came from one such entranceway, high above where she stood. Squinting, she followed the stair with her eyes. From the high entranceways down to the winding terrace where all the stairways originated, she traced it. When she reached what she thought was the correct stair, it showed no evidence of recent use, and Catrin climbed with little confidence, not knowing if she were taking the right path.

Despite places where the stair was nearly perfectly preserved, there were places it barely existed. In one such place, Catrin came to a gap. Below was a sheer drop to the vale floor. Driven beyond reason by her desire to end this quest, she leaped across the divide. As she soared through the air, her arms windmilled. The heel of her staff struck rock before she landed. The impact sent her spinning, and she nearly lost her grip on the staff. Off balance, she struck the rock hard, driving the wind from her lungs. Her legs still hanging over the ledge, gravity began to pull at her, and she scrambled to find a handhold. With her left hand, she found a small crack and dug her fingers in, crying out from the pain. With her other hand, she drove the tip of her staff into another nearby crack. Using all her strength, she pulled herself up. When she finally gained the relative safety of the stair, she allowed herself only a moment of rest before resuming her climb.

Higher up, in a place where two sets of stairs came close together, Catrin saw parts of the other stair that were new and hastily constructed. That was the stair Belegra and his men used.

Trying to decide between stealth and a clear path, Catrin finally decided on a safe climb; she would have to face Belegra one way or another, and she doubted surprise would give her any substantial advantage. Climbing between the two stairs was dangerous, but she hoped the rest of the climb would be easier. Movement and shouting from above gave her a start, and she flattened herself against the rock, hoping not to be seen.