Cursed Bones: Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book Five (17 page)

She was red with a hint of gold that glistened in the setting sun. Three rows of spikes ran the length of her back beginning with the crown of three horns that swept back from her brow. She banked hard, cutting into the evening breeze and turning impossibly sharp before losing her center of gravity and tumbling through the air out over the ocean.

Alexander held his breath as Anja rolled in the sky, falling out of control. Her wings flared out and started to right her but she tried to gain thrust too quickly and wasn’t strong enough to pull out of the free-fall.

Bragador floated overhead, barking orders to her daughter in the guttural language of the dragons.

Anja spread her wings again, quickly folding them straight up, then gradually spreading them out, inducing a spiral that slowed her until she was able to turn into a dive, lock her wings and begin to ride the air currents back up to the level of the platform where Alexander stood, assisted by a cane, watching her flight practice.

Bragador was a stern taskmistress, running Anja through a grueling series of aerial maneuvers over and over again. Her exacting demands combined with Anja’s hard work paid off with remarkable gains in her ability to fly safely, even while performing some very complicated aerial stunts.

Several days prior, Jack had presented Alexander with a beautiful cane, hand-carved from a piece of driftwood.

Alexander never realized how much he cherished the ability to walk. His leg hurt when he tried to put any weight on it, but he felt exhilarated at the same time. It took a few days of work before he felt confident enough to venture out of his Wizard’s Den.

Once he had mastered using his new cane, he went to watch Anja fly every afternoon. When he wasn’t watching her, he was practicing his clairvoyant illusions, using Jack as his observer, but try as Alexander might, Jack could always find something wrong with the illusion. On top of that, he was still unable to integrate movement, let alone speech.

He needed a way to act. The winter was just beginning, but it would be over all too soon and then the killing would start in earnest. Phane was poised to strike a terrible blow to Ruatha, while Zuhl would almost certainly reengage on Fellenden. These days of reprieve during the winter were vitally important for coordinating a strategy between his allies, and yet, his magic was failing him.

Alexander turned to the sovereigns for counsel.

“What’s transpired since we last convened?” Balthazar Reishi asked.

Alexander gave the sovereigns a full report of his healing and his limited success with his illusion magic. He also told them of his conversation with Bragador, as well as his growing fondness for Anja.

“First and foremost,” Balthazar said, “you must not take the dragon child with you when you depart. I cannot stress this enough. Bragador has forgiven you much, but if Anja accompanies you to war, she may well die. Dragons are not invincible, especially very young dragons. And they’re very hard to hide.”

Alexander cut him off with a raised hand.

“I agree, Anja will stay with her mother when I leave. What I need is help with my magic. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I’ve visualized myself from every angle and I can even project a pretty good image, but I can’t make it move without losing clarity.”

Balthazar nodded to
Constantine
.

The Third Sovereign leaned forward.

“I recall a conversation I had with Benesh late one evening a very long time ago. He confided to me that his illusion magic was unworkable when he first discovered it within himself. Only after he learned to be the illusion rather than see the illusion was he able to create the visions he was so renowned for.

“In your practice, are you seeing the room from the perspective of your illusion or from elsewhere?”

“Always from a third point of view,” Alexander said.

“Try it from the perspective of your illusion,”
Constantine
said. “It’s now clear that the magic of my brother lives on in you. That fact may be just simply helpful, or it may be of great significance.”

“There have been so few adepts,” Balthazar said, “for you to possess a link to the firmament from two such wizards is unique. Such a thing cannot be without risk. Be vigilant. Record your magical experiences with extra care over the coming weeks and consult your notes frequently.”

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Alexander said.

Chapter 15

“That was almost unsettling, Alexander,” Jack said. “You were right there in front of me, carrying on a conversation, and at the same time you were right there in bed, lying still like a corpse.”

“It’ll work for now,” Alexander said. “I’ll be out for a while. There’s a lot to do.”

It took the better part of an afternoon to get used to seeing through the illusion. Then it just snapped into place and Alexander was there, seeing and hearing everything as if standing in the place his illusion occupied. He could move and talk and hear and be there in every way except the real way.

But it worked. He had the ability to act.

He methodically followed the well-worn path in his mind that led to the firmament and then he was in the endless ocean of creation—a moment later he was floating in a room half a world away, looking at his wife. He willed a perfect image of himself into place.

Isabel gasped, putting her hands over her mouth and looking at him with wide eyes as she stood frozen with a mixture of hope and surprise.

“How? Is it really you?” She reached out, taking a step forward.

Alexander shook his head. “Illusion.”

“So you’re still on Tyr, then,” Isabel said, then flinched like she’d been slapped. “Wait! Don’t answer that. In fact, don’t tell me anything of any interest to Phane. I can’t be trusted, Alexander.” She stopped again and looked at him with longing. Approaching slowly, she reached for his face but found only emptiness. A tear slipped from each eye as she closed them in pain.

“I’m safe, well and healing,” Alexander said. “Why did you leave?”

“I had to,” Isabel said. “I was a threat to you. I couldn’t live with myself if I killed you. I won’t, no matter what. This is how it has to be for now.”

“We could have found another way,” Alexander said.

Isabel shook her head.

“This was the only sure way.”

“And what if you get yourself killed?” Alexander asked.

“Better that than killing you,” she said.

“You can’t die,” Alexander said. “I need you.”

Isabel reached for him again, then stopped, turning around in frustration.

“I wish you were really here,” she said. “I miss you terribly. I didn’t want to leave, but I had to. You don’t know what it’s like, always second-guessing your own thoughts, questioning if it was really
your
thought. I can’t trust myself with your life right now, so I can’t be anywhere near you until I can.” She turned back around, facing him sternly with tears running freely down her face. “Deal in what is, not what if. This is what is.” She motioned to the locked room that had become her home in Karth’s secret fortress.

“You’re right,” Alexander said, drawing himself up. “Report.”

Isabel looked at him quizzically for a moment before smiling slightly and beginning a full accounting of her journey from Tyr to this place and time. She was thorough, yet concise, and delivered the entire summary without a hint of emotion.

“You’ve been through a lot,” Alexander said. “Do you think you can trust Ayela?”

“My gut says yes, but I’m not entirely myself right now, so I don’t know what to trust.”

“Regardless, save that potion,” Alexander said. “If she’s telling the truth, it could make the difference. Reach out to her. See if you can get a better sense of her loyalties. That leaves us with questions. Who are the Sin’Rath? What’s a Goiri? And what’s a doppelganger spell?”

“What happens if it works?” Isabel asked. “I mean, what if the witch Clotus actually manages to kill Phane?”

Alexander frowned, shaking his head. “Phane will see right through her. Don’t underestimate him. This witch Clotus will die badly.”

“You’re probably right,” Isabel said, deflating somewhat, “but we can hope.”

“I’m sorry,” Alexander said, reminding himself how alone Isabel was right now. “If the witch kills Phane, I’ll send forces for you immediately and then we’ll sue for peace, courting the disparate factions within Phane’s alliance and pitting one against the other until they’re at war with themselves, while we withdraw and consolidate our forces before confronting them a piece at a time and bringing them under the Old Law.”

Isabel laughed. “That does seem unlikely. If Phane kills Clotus, he’ll know that I’m on Karth and that the Sin’Rath have me. He’s almost sure to act.”

“Agreed,” Alexander said. “You need to escape. See if you can get Ayela to help you. She’s defied her father already so she might again. Once you’re out, then what?”

“I go kill Phane,” Isabel said.

“No, you don’t,” Alexander said. “You find a way to come home to me, or at the very least somewhere safe while I get rid of Azugorath.”

“Phane is expecting me,” Isabel said. “I can get close. This may be the best shot we ever have. I have to take it.”

“He’ll see through you too,” Alexander said. “He’s a liar. You’re not. How do you expect to deceive him?”

Isabel clenched her jaw and shrugged. “I haven’t figured that out yet. I’ll know more when I get closer.”

“This is a very dangerous game you’re playing,” Alexander said.

“War is the most dangerous game there is,” Isabel said.

“So I’ve heard,” Alexander said. “I don’t like this, but it is what it is, and you’re obviously not open to reason at the moment, so all I have left to do is help you. I’m going to talk with Magda and Kelvin about your questions. I’ll be back as soon as I have answers. I love you, Isabel.”

“I love you, Alexander.”

He faded away, back into the firmament. A moment later his awareness coalesced in a large room. Nearly the entire general staff of the army on Fellenden was assembled there, with Conner sitting in the seat to the right of an empty chair at the head of the table. Magda, the person Alexander had been looking for, was there as well.

Alexander seemingly materialized behind the empty chair. He gave everyone a moment to notice him before he spoke.

“Where’s Abigail?” he asked Conner.

“Zuhl took her,” Conner said, standing. “How? How can you be here?”

“I’m not,” Alexander said. “I’m projecting an illusion of myself. I’m injured, but safe. How did Zuhl take my sister? And where’s Anatoly?”

“With a dragon,” Conner said to the first question. “Tore the roof off the room right in the middle of a war council, then a dozen of his minions, half-dragon, half-man, descended on us and took Abigail. Anatoly was severely injured in the attack and is currently recuperating.”

“But he’ll live?”

“Yes,” Conner said.

“I’m going to find Abigail,” Alexander said. “I’ll be back as soon as I do. We’ll consider our options when I return.”

Alexander let his illusion vanish, then focused his mind’s eye on Abigail … the world flashed by and he was in a circular room with his sister—she was pacing.

She stopped midstride when he appeared in front of her.

“Alex? How?” she said.

“Magic,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not really here. Jack says hi.”

Abigail smiled for just a moment.

“How do I know you’re not a trick?”

“You don’t, but I’m not,” Alexander said.

“All right,” Abigail said, “doesn’t really matter since you can’t tell me anything anyway. Zuhl claims to have a way of getting people to answer questions … some kind of ice slug or something. It’s supposed to make you truthful and forthcoming, so don’t tell me anything that Zuhl can use.”

“Fair enough,” Alexander said. “Tell me everything I need to know about how this happened.” He motioned to her tower-room prison cell.

“Zuhl showed up at the shipyard riding a blue dragon and started killing our Sky Knights, so I flew up and cut him in half …”

“Wait, what?” Alexander said. “How did you get close enough?”

Abigail hesitated before answering. “I jumped off my wyvern.”

“What?! Abigail, that was way too risky.”

“It worked, and I made friends with the dragon. His name is Ixabrax. The problem is, it wasn’t Zuhl riding the dragon—it was a simulacrum, a copy. The real Zuhl is still very much alive.

“He attacked Fellenden city a few days ago riding another blue dragon, an even bigger one than Ixabrax.”

“How many dragons does Zuhl control?” Alexander asked.

“Six, now,” Abigail said. “He has these collars that make the dragons obey him. I used the Thinblade to cut Ixabrax’s collar. He told me that Zuhl has enslaved his whole family.”

“Do you think Ixabrax might help us?” Alexander asked.

“He might,” Abigail said with a shrug.

“What does Zuhl want with you anyway?” Alexander asked.