Ширли Мерфи - The Dragonbards

The otters and bards had gathered again in the valley, but soon Thakkur was moving back and forth among them; then he and Hanni roved out along the marsh alone, tilting their heads as if they scented something alarming. When they turned to look at the gathered crowd, everyone was watching them.

The two otters left the valley, climbed the black cliff, and stood on its ridge, sharply white against the afternoon sky. The bards and otters rose and followed them, toward the sacred cave.

Chapter 11

I will miss our picnics in the caves of Nison-Serth and the joy in the children’s faces when they explored there. The sacred caves are the only places left that hold the magic of ancient times. The otters have such a cave, and it is utterly secret. Only bard knowledge tells me. I hope they take great sustenance in it, great joy

*

The crashing sea echoed across the sacred cave and flung its spray at the door. The walls of the cave, shimmering with sea light, were covered with animal pictures that shifted and changed in the dancing reflections—mosaics wrought from tiny shells by ancient generations.

“It’s beautiful,” Camery whispered. Kiri and Marshy were silent, looking. Colewolf reached to touch a shell picture of running unicorns—the unicorns that had been driven from Tirror by the dark into other worlds. Perhaps they waited somewhere, for a time when they could return, to bring their healing powers to all men and to the other speaking animals.

The otters sat down on the floor, crowding together before the raised dais in a tangle of brown bodies. The bards sat on a stone bench against the wall, close together and hushed. The sacred clamshell stood alone on a stone pedestal at the back of the dais, gleaming in the sea shimmer. A white mosaic dragon reared on the wall behind it, wings spread. The chattering otters became still as Thakkur and Hanni mounted the dais. Hanni, only half Thakkur’s height, stretched up as tall as he could, straight and rigid beside Thakkur. The cave was still.

The shell was perfectly curved, like a great and beautifully made bowl. Its inside was the color of a pale sunset, and it was deeply scalloped around its curved top. As Thakkur lifted his paws to it, its blushing surface began to turn smoky. Thakkur’s whiskers were straight and still, his thick white tail laid out rigid behind him. Hanni stood exactly the same. As Thakkur muttered softly, shadows began to move across the shell and to gather into an image.

A castle of blood-red stone shone out. Winged jackals paced the top of its high wall, their heads down, their thin lips pulled back to show jagged teeth. Dark soldiers walked in the courtyard. The vision changed to a dim room lit by two greasy torches. Quazelzeg was there, his pale eyes watching the child slaves who knelt before him blank faced. He jerked a dark-haired girl from the line. Her eyes shone with hatred, then were shuttered. When he slapped her, she fell sprawling. When a red-haired boy reached for her, Quazelzeg knocked him to his knees.

Suddenly a light shone deep in the shell, touching the two children as if a hand had reached into the room and thrown sunlight in their faces. The light condensed down into a shape, touching the boy’s freckled cheek, the girl’s dark eyes with its fleeting image—a three- clawed footprint.

*

The vision faded.

For a long time, no one moved or spoke. In every mind the mark of the dragonbard blazed, searing away all thought save its wonderful—and terrible—meanings. There were two more bards on Tirror. But they were held as slaves by the dark.

Thakkur and Hanni left the cave without speaking. The bards and otters followed.

Outside, the dragons had come close to the island, rocking on the sea, their eyes blazing as they crowded against the cliff, for their minds, too, were filled with the vision. They stared north toward Aquervell, fierce with the need to avenge the child bards and to rescue them. Nightraider roared, “We will go at once!” and stretched his wings impatiently.

“At once,” thundered Starpounder.

“Attack at once,” roared Windcaller.

The dragonlings echoed them.

Teb stared at them, scowling. “No! We’re not going to storm Aquervell in a great show of flashing wings and tempers. Quazelzeg would kill those two children in a second.”

“Nonsense!” Starpounder bellowed. “We will release them before he can touch them.”

But they all knew that wasn’t possible.

Teb stroked Starpounder’s nose. “I think that Quazelzeg does not mean to kill them. He means to use those children. He will torture them, terrify them, in order to train their minds. But he won’t kill them— unless we force him to.”

“What do you plan?” said Nightraider.

“We must be stealthy, and we must plan carefully,” Teb said. “I think Quazelzeg wanted Iceflower because he has the child bards—I think he meant to train the children and the young dragon together.”

“Fool—he is a fool,” Starpounder shouted. “But I think that you are right, Tebriel.”

“Quazelzeg could never train a dragon!” Nightraider roared.

“Never,” the dragons agreed, hissing flame.

Seastrider nudged quietly at Teb. “You mean to go alone, Tebriel—just the two of us.”

He nodded, reaching to stroke her. “We will slip into Aquervell at night.”

“No!” Kiri and Camery said together.

Teb’s look silenced them. “Seastrider and I will go. She will stay hidden. I will get into the palace and get the children out—one shadow slipping in and quickly gone.”

“And quickly dead,” Camery said.

He ignored her. “The rest of you will be here to fight Sivich when he brings the dark forces down on Nightpool. This time, Sivich’s attack will be powerful. This time, he will attack Ebis as well. All of you will be needed.”

“You won’t go alone to Aquervell,” Camery said. The set of her face was as stubborn as Teb’s. “Nightraider and I are going with you.”

“No,” Kiri said. “The palace at Auric belongs to you and Teb. It is right that one of you be here to fight for it. Besides, the folk of the resistance know you, trust you. I will go with Teb.”

Teb said, “No one is going with me.” He saw Thakkur’s scowl and ignored it.

Camery said, “You will endanger the children if you go alone. So you will endanger us all. If you were killed, who would get the children out?”

“Camery is right,” Thakkur said. “Do not let your terrible hatred of the dark lead you astray, Tebriel. Do not underestimate Quazelzeg and what he is capable of—do not let your pride lead you.” The white otter touched Teb’s hand. “We are all in this. You are not a bard alone anymore. Let the love of your friends strengthen and help you.”

Teb looked at Thakkur and was torn between rebellion and respect for the white Seer’s wisdom.

“Do you remember the prophesy I once gave you, Tebriel?”

“I remember.” Thakkur’s prediction spoke sharply in his mind: I see a street in Sharden’s city narrow and mean. There is danger there and it reeks of pain. Take care, Tebriel, when you journey into Sharden.

“You are not invulnerable,” Thakkur said. “You must not do this alone.”

He felt perfectly capable of doing it alone, of getting the children out secretly and quickly. But he had never turned away from Thakkur’s wisdom.

“Do not let pride rule you, Tebriel.”

Teb sighed. “I will take one bard. Colewolf—Colewolf’s silent speech is strongest. That talent will be needed, with the power of the dark so close.”

Thakkur eased his rigid stance and touched his worry stones. Colewolf nodded at Teb’s selection.

“No!” Kiri said. “Papa—you are a stronger fighter. You are needed here. You know more about battle tactics than I. I am smaller; I can get into small places.”