Dragon Blood-Hurog 2 (15 page)

Oreg produced a sheet of vellum and made Tisala stand over his shoulder as he drew the section of the Asylum where Ward was. When he was finished he had a fair map. Then he picked Tisala's memories to

pieces again. She found she remembered details she couldn't possibly have: how many stone blocks there

were between each doorway, where the paint was scratched on the inside of Ward's cell door, the shape of the lock.

When he was finished with her, Tisala sat down abruptly on a bench and realized he'd used some magic on her—she could feel its absence now that it was gone.

Without a word, Oreg took a piece of charcoal and began marking the polished wooden floor.

"What are you doing?" Tosten's voice startled Tisala. She'd forgotten he and Duraugh were in the room, too.

"Transportation spells without a definite destination are difficult in the best of times." Oreg replied.

"This"—he paused in his drawing to gesture at the marks he'd made on the floor—"will help me return here if something goes wrong. Hopefully I'll be able to get myself to where they've stashed Ward, and then I can get us both out."

"They have the area magicked to prevent someone doing just that," said Duraugh. "I've asked a few friends about it—discreetly."

"Jakoven's pet wizards don't have the power to ward it against me," said Oreg contemptuously. Tisala had watched her father's mage use symbols to work magic before, but there was something different about the way Oreg moved—like the difference between watching an artist and a talented amateur. Oreg never stopped to look something up in a book, never paused in the detailed lines he placed on the floor, though she could barely see the marks in the dim light. He never had to stop and go back to redraw anything. Even so it took him quite a while before he was satisfied. After setting aside the charcoal, he jumped lightly over his artwork and sat, cross-legged, in the unmarked section he'd left in the middle. He closed his eyes and became still. Nothing happened for such a long time that when the first few sparks sputtered from the marks on the floor, Tisala thought she was imagining things.

Then between one breath and the next the temperature in the room shot up from winter-cool to unbearably hot. Blue and gold sparks spewed from the black marks and lit the room, forcing Tisala to bring up her arm to protect her eyes.

When she lowered her arm, the room was thick with smoke and a dragon curled around itself where Oreg had been, filling the room.

Then Oreg stood in the dragon's place, staggered a few steps forward, and fell to his knees. Duraugh rushed to his side and helped him to a chair.

"Oreg?" he said. "Are you all right?"

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The wizard nodded his head, breathing heavily. "I can't get to him," he said in a voice that shook. "I haven't seen wards like those since … It's warded with dragon magic. I couldn't get through. If I were inside, with him, I might have been able to get him out—but not from here."

"They have a dragon?" asked Tosten tightly.

Oreg shook his head. "More likely some remnant piece—a tooth or scale would be enough."

"Are you sure you could get him out from inside?" Tisala asked. Oreg smiled grimly. "Yes."

She rubbed her hands over her eyes. "I'll see what we can do. There is only one cleaner for that section. It'll be difficult to remove her again without arousing questions—not to mention the prevalence of mages

who might notice a wizard strolling through their doors, for all that he's dressed like a cleaner."
8—WARDWICK

What you do when no one is watching reveals your true character.

Day by day I was failing, hour by hour it was harder to ride the pain. The greater portion of the panic gripping me had nothing to do with the herbs in the water I drank; I lost hope. Oreg, where are you?

Sometimes the demons brought me back to my cell when the morning sun trickled through the small, grated window far above me. I would stare at the pale light on the straw because the window hurt my eyes. In my more cognizant moments I realized they weren't letting me sleep. At some point I quit eating the food they left, but I managed to remember that the water was important, and I gagged it down before crawling to my straw cave.

I could tell it was almost time for the monsters by the relative clearness of my thoughts. The door opened

and I tried to pretend I wasn't there, burrowing into the straw until they couldn't find me. But it wasn't the usual monsters, because the door shut, leaving the intruder caged with me. The break in

routine was frightening and the resulting adrenaline rush sent me to my feet. A woman stood just inside the door in a plain woolen robe. In her right hand she held a wooden rake.

"
Tisala
." The small voice spoke for the first time in a long time, but it was virtually lost in the sea of terror

that drowned me. It hadn't taken long to learn that anything new was bad. She walked in tentatively, a horrible creature with seven heads who was going to poison me with the tears that tracked down her face. I scuttled away from her as far as I could, but she kept coming.

"Tis," I said, though I hadn't planned on saying anything at all. "Stay back. Please?" If she tried to touch

me, I knew I would die. But the little voice had been forced out of hiding for fear
I
would hurt
her.
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She backed away then, and left me to my safe haven while she raked out the straw that didn't belong to my nest. I stood glued to the far wall, shaking.

When she left, I wept as she had, but I didn't know why. I didn't stop until the monsters came again. They held my head under the water this time, but I didn't struggle because Jade Eyes told me not to. I held my breath until I passed out. Then they—and I—did it again.

This was something new, and in my drugged exhaustion it seemed perfectly sane to peer through the depths of the water and look for … safety, sanity, I don't know what. It seemed to me that I could see it just on the outside of my vision.

"See what?" Jade Eyes asked, after I awoke coughing and choking the second time. I blinked at him like an idiot; even after four years, the mask of stupidity I wore throughout my youth was more at home on my face than not. Tosten liked to tease me about it. Tosten. Hurog.

"Something to fill the hole in me," I said, realizing after I said it that it was true. I rolled off the wet bench

and back into the water without help this time.

Hurog, I thought Dragon, come take me.

Dragon claws snatched at me, dragon magic, filled me for a moment. I knew this dragon.

"Oreg!" I screamed underwater.

Then between one instant and the next it was gone, and the hole that separation from Hurog always left inside me was all the emptier for having once been filled. It was infinitely worse than the pain in my head,

and some part of me believed that I would never be whole again. That this time they would succeed in taking Hurog from me.

A hand, not dragon claws, hauled me out of the water and strapped me down to the table in the center of the room.

"Did you feel that?' asked Jade Eyes excitedly to his fellow mage. "That's what his magic felt like on the

trip over here. Have you ever felt anything like it?"

I cried for Oreg's loss. Even in the state I was in, I realized that Oreg had tried to rescue me—and he'd failed. There would be no rescue. And if Oreg couldn't rescue me, no one could.

"It was unusual," said Arten. "But Jakoven was firm that we break him. I think we've done it. The drugs should be mostly out of his system and he still threw himself into the water that last time. I suppose he might be trying to kill himself, but that flare of magic … "

"He was looking for something," said Jade Eyes, petting my forehead. "Weren't you, Ward?" His voice was so soft and soothing, I couldn't help but reply. "Dragons," I said, sobbing out the words.

"The dragon is gone."

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Arten nodded abruptly. "I'll be back with Jakoven," he said. "Amuse yourself until I return at his convenience. Don't take him back to his cell. I'll tell Jakoven you've managed to re-create the effect you noticed bringing him here. But I think he's impatient to get on with his plans." On those words he left me

alone with Jade Eyes.

Amuse himself Jade Eyes did. And it was different this time. The knowledge that not even Oreg could get me out had broken some hard core of resistance. The thin veneer, the shadow of my old mask that I wore to protect myself, crumbled completely and there was nothing left to save me. I screamed when the

pain flamed through my body, robbing me of all control. I sobbed for it to stop, then sobbed and shook when it did and the pain was replaced by caressing hands. I wished fervently for the pain rather than the sure knowledge that it would begin again, and over and over I received my wish. It was during one of the "rest" periods that Jakoven finally came. I didn't hear him enter, didn't notice him

until he struck me lightly on the face.

"Ah, Ward, my boy. Good to see you," he said.

I stared at him blankly, far past worrying about the newly familiar smells that accompanied Jade Eyes entertainments: feces and urine, blood and sweat. Nor was I concerned about the tears that continued to slide down my cheeks, though I was aware that all of these things would once have embarrassed me—especially the tears.

"
Hurogs don't cry
." It was not my inner voice who spoke, but an older one. It took me a moment to remember that my father was dead and I didn't need to hate him anymore. I think Jakoven thought the heat in my eyes was directed at him, not realizing I was almost beyond recognizing who he was.

"Do you know why you are here?"

No
, I thought. "Hurog," I said in a voice so hoarse and deep that it must have been difficult to understand. Then the tissues of my throat, swollen from screaming, closed up, and I couldn't utter another

word.

Jakoven looked away from me and said, "Leave us. Stay, Jade Eyes." The room emptied. I hadn't realized until then that there was anyone else in it but the king, Jade Eyes, and me, but a number of mage robes passed by my eye.

When they were gone, Jakoven pulled up a stool and sat by my head so I could see him. The Tallvenish king who ruled the Five Kingdoms including my own Shavig was, in many ways, the epitome of what a king should be. His voice was rich and carrying, the kind of voice that could encourage armies in battle.

His face was regular without being handsome—the face of a general, perhaps, or a … well, a king.

"Arten tells me that you've amazed my Jade Eyes, who thinks you've happened upon a new form of magic." The king shook his head with a kingly smile. "He's young yet, and hasn't met many self-taught mages—as I have." He reached out with a clean white cloth and wiped my cheeks, but I continued to cry

without knowing why. "When a mage teaches himself magic, he has little control, leaking power he should

capture and use. Your father really should have sent you out for training. I doubt you even know when you set up your magic guardian to watch your sleep—that's what gives it the feeling of sentience he
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received."

"But—" protested Jade Eyes.

"Quiet, my lad. You're young yet and convinced you know all the answers. I know the guardian spell is advanced—but someone thought it up once. I imagine they did it in much the same way our young friend

here did. Poor boy." He crooned to me and kissed me.

I gagged and jerked, but the king was thorough and the bonds that held me were tight. Fear shook me, sweeping up from my feet and to my head, leaving me light headed and dizzy. Fear of the king, fear of the

pain, fear of what new thing they were going to do.

I heard Jade Eyes say something, but I didn't pay attention.

"Jealous?" asked the king, pulling away from me. "Foolish boy. Now get me that bag on the top shelf—no, not that one. The small one. Thank you."

I couldn't see the bag with my head restrained. And the king settled back so I couldn't hear him, either, just felt the feather-light touch of his ringers on my forehead.

"Did you know that
Hurog
means dragon in old Shavig?" said the king. My stomach wove itself another knot. "Why do you think that is?"

I didn't say anything, but Jade Eyes answered, "Because when there were dragons, they nested near Hurog, I suppose."

"Mmm," said the king. "There are stories about Hurog. That the dragons are drawn there by a magical stone, deep in the heart of Hurog."

The only thing that had been in Hurog's heart was the bones of a dragon, and I'd taken care of that when

I used the bones to heal the sick earth.

"I've heard that one," said Jade Eyes.

"When I asked the Hurogmeten—the real Hurogmeten, this one's father—about it, he laughed and said there was nothing in Hurog to attract a dragon. I've since come to believe he was right—but there's a grain of truth in some old folklore. Some years ago during the renovations of the castle here at Estian, my

stone mason, rest his soul, came across a curious thing. He brought it to my attention shortly before he died."

Broken I might be, but I found myself wondering why Jakoven felt it necessary to remind Jade Eyes that

he could kill anyone he chose.

Maybe
, I thought, in sympathy with Oreg's formerly suicidal tendencies for the first time,
maybe
Jakoven

would choose to kill me.
I didn't believe it, really, just hoped for it. I heard the rustle of cloth. Jade Eyes gasped, and a cold fog of dark magic crawled through my skin, dirtying me inside and out.

"I keep it here in this special bag, so that no one would ever be curious about it—as you must have noticed, it was difficult for you to find even after I directed you to it. Do you recognize it?"
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