Faith Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 2) (22 page)

Galvin hesitated, but the look in Zorc’s eyes quenched any doubt. Zorc was doing this for Ren. Galvin couldn’t refuse. Galvin drew his sword and nodded. Zorc reached into his robe and drew out a small bag of silver dust. Zorc slowly sprinkled the dust down the blade. He made the symbol for magic at the sword’s tip: an inverted triangle inside a larger triangle inside a circle. Then Zorc drew a parallel line back up the sword and sketched an arrow at the top, pointing toward the hilt. The wizard waved his hands over the blade. The dust hissed and smoked. Then the sands vaporized before Galvin’s eyes.

The sword shivered and a tingling rushed through Galvin’s hands, up his arms, to his shoulders, only to plummet down to his toes. It was the Quy learning his form. As soon as the tingling had dissipated it came again, this time from the toes, retracing the same pattern until it emerged from his fingers and flowed back into the blade.

Galvin staggered backward, yearning for the sensation again. It had been blanket of warmth titillating his senses, filling him with something he had always known but had always been lacking.

A hand encased his shoulder. Zorc’s resonating voice poured over him. “You had the Quy, Galvin. As a child you had the thread. It should have been born in you as it was in Ren and Neki. I see it in your eyes. You have an inner strength that only comes from the gift. I don’t know what’s happened in your life, but something has taken it from you, stole it, if you will.

“You’ve just felt what you might have known. I regret you had to feel it. It would be better if you never had to endure it, given your loss. I would have charged Neki with this task but he can’t accompany us to Dresden. The risk is great for him. Although powerful, he’s untrained. The Druids could force him behind the door faster than an arrow flies.

“I’m sorry, Galvin. I feel your spirit. I know killing me will be hard if it comes to that, but what must be done must be done. If there’s a chance I’ll be trapped take my life without pause. You’ll gain my words, if not my power, and be able to teach Ren what he needs to know to defeat Ista.”

Galvin didn’t know what to say. If he had the Quy, where had it gone? He had always feared magic because of his lineage. Now the remnant of the Quy within him made him long for it. As he looked into Zorc’s gentle eyes he knew once the Quy was gone it couldn’t be recovered. He wanted to weep with the finality but forced himself to think about Dresden, and Ren.

“How will I be able to save Ren if you’re gone and I’m surrounded by Druids?”

Zorc smiled, eyes twinkling as if he were a teenager out for a prank. “Even if I’m unable to keep them at bay, I’ll give them the Abyss to fight.” Still grinning, Zorc leaned back on the rock. “If a Druid wants to close someone from a vice, or close something unrelated to the Quy, he can do so easily by himself. It takes at least three Druids to shut the door on someone weak in the power, even if the person allows it. For a Druid to close a four hundred year old wizard, who doesn’t want to be closed, well, according to my calculations it would take almost one hundred Druids.”

That didn’t sound too bad to Galvin. “How many Druids are there?”

Zorc lost his smile. “In my day, almost five hundred.”

Galvin’s hopes sunk.

“My point is this,” Zorc said. “It will take a plethora of them to trap me. If they’ve already put Ren behind the door they won’t have the strength to put me behind the door. Ren’s closing, I’m sure, will take at least as many, if not more than mine. It will drain their strength. They’ll be unable to fight back when you and I enter their temple. But if they haven’t closed Ren, may the Maker bless this end, I’ll be able to hinder them enough to allow you and Ren to escape.”

Zorc leaned forward, eyes glowing with wicked intent. “I’m a soldier in this war, Galvin. If I become trapped don’t hesitate to kill me. For all I know that’s why I live, so another can take my knowledge. If it looks like there’s a chance I’m losing the battle, kill me. If you don’t, all hope is lost.”

Ren could tell his horse was tiring. Every once in a while the mare gave a gruff, wheezing sneeze, but she didn’t slow.

Ren patted her neck and glanced up at the sky, immediately finding his constellation. The previous night he had quite a scare. The hazy white cloud signifying the One had retracted, buoying farther and farther away from his star. It had terrified him.

Try as he might his horse wouldn’t slow, and it would have been suicide to jump. But when he looked again, the haze had begun to move closer. He had never been so relieved. Of course the heavens didn’t synchronize to the middle plane with perfect precision. Of course there would be lags between the physical world and the outer realms.

Now the hazy white cloud drew closer than ever, almost covering the constellation’s center star. He was riding to the One. There was no doubt. Soon he would find answers. No, he would demand answers.

His horse sneezed and stumbled. This time when he drew back the reins, the horse obeyed. A blur passed him on the left. When Ren’s horse blundered to a stop, Ren quickly dismounted. He patted the mare’s neck and whispered words of encouragement. Her eyes were dull, mucus dribbled from her nose, and she had thinned as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks. As he stroked her she heaved a sigh and toppled, dead before she hit the ground.

Morrus stopped beside him and silently extended his arm. Ren took it and mounted. Within a dragon’s breath they were running with the Divi River. The Druid ship rose in the distance. It was a large merchant ship with a wide hull and a large black lateen. It looked ominous. A sharp, stabbing doubt pierced Ren’s mind. He looked back at the synergy constellation, letting his doubts dissipate with the wind.

Druids were easily identifiable scurrying around the deck. The ropes holding the massive ship at dock had already been untied. The Druid crew still had on the traditional gray but they weren’t robed. Instead they wore baggy breeches and knee-length tunics, belted at the waist with a black sash.

Morrus slowed his mare and let her trot up the plank at her own pace. When they reached the smooth, polished deck, all eyes turned to Ren for silent inspection. Ren felt like a sheep in a dragon’s lair but managed to keep his eyes focused on Morrus’ black strand of hair.

Morrus dismounted and strode to the bow of the ship, shouting orders that were immediately whisked away by the wind. Without the Druid beside him Ren reached for the star sapphire, now concealed under his tunic, and walked to the ship’s railing. The boat swayed in the water and broke free of the bank. Its sails caught the wind and it lurched forward, sailing down the Divi with surprising speed.

Ren watched the mainland move farther and farther away. Even though the air was muggy with the sweat of the water, a chill passed though him. The boulders of the coast loomed over the ship in judgment. The twin moons’ light haunted the banks and painted faces in the rocks. They were faces Ren feared he would never see again.

He longed for a glimpse of Zier: the bald Sierra Mountains, the massive redwoods, and the lush green forests. He thought back to the time when his only worry was leaving the castle without detection. It was amazing really, how insignificant his life had been before the Collective. Now he was the Chosen, ordered to close his door, without friends and without promise of return.

Morrus leaned next to him, dark eyes and emotionless expression making him appear sinister in the dusky light, but when he spoke a quiet compassion was discernible in his voice. “How do you fare?”

“Not so well.” Ren looked down at the black water. A light mist hit his face, as if the Old Sea were trying to cleanse him for burial. “But thank you for asking.”

Morrus didn’t reply. Ren tried to concentrate on the sound of the water. The torches around the boat gave an eerie cast to the waves.

“What will you ask the One?”

Ren had wondered when Morrus would ask that question. “When I go behind the door I may be unable to remember certain things. I want the One to help a friend. I had to lie to her to fulfill this quest. I want him to find her and tell her I meant nothing of what I said.”

Morrus chuckled. Ren held his tongue. The Druid clearly didn’t understand the importance of his request.

Morrus shook his head. “I don’t laugh at your request. I laugh because you continue to amaze me.”

“I don’t understand.”

Morrus’ eyes sparked with humor. “You come willingly, you speak to me as if I’m your friend and not someone who is trying to, in a way, change you, and then you think of another when you’re about to do something that may destroy your mind.”

“What did you expect me to ask the One?”

“I honesty don’t know, but nothing like that.”

“I do this because I have to, Morrus. I don’t understand why I have to, and I don’t like it, but it’s the fate the Maker has placed before me. I can’t change it. There’s no sense fighting what can’t be changed.”

Morrus fell silent, but Ren felt the Druids eyes boring into him. “I’ve always been intrigued with the idea of a Maker.”

Ren turned in surprise. “What do you mean?”

Druids were pious, devout and even ardent in their religious beliefs, which was why they wanted to rid the Lands of vices. Ren always assumed Druid theology was the same, only more fervent than others. Morrus’ words claimed otherwise.

A small quirk to the Druid’s lips lit his emotionless face. Morrus’ eyes flickered behind him and lowered his voice. Ren leaned closer to make out his words.

“Druids are a religious race, but they don’t believe an ultimate power created the Lands. Although they do believe in another realm, it’s only in the sense of where the spirit will go once it leaves the body. They believe once we die in one realm we go to another and continue on. How good we are in this life determines what we will be in the next. This can go on indefinitely, depending on how good or bad one is. If one is incessantly good, eventually he will become a god.”

The water lapped up the side of the ship and echoed around them. Morrus remained silent as he waited for a few of the ship’s crew to pass.

“Druids believe a man stays in a realm until he’s achieved the highest order in that realm. He’s then born in the next realm where his goodness allows. And so the process continues. This realm is believed to be the highest of all realms, and the highest being in this realm – ”

“Is a Druid,” Ren finished.

Morrus nodded. Ren thought he saw a hint of distaste pass over Morrus’ features.

“And when the Quy was first born long ago, the Druids felt as if they had been superseded.”

Morrus nodded again, face returning to the emotionless mask. Ren thought about the history of wizard and Druid animosity and finally understood why it went so deep. If the Druids didn’t consider themselves to be the highest order in this realm it meant they were another step removed from becoming a supreme being.

“So,” Morrus continued, “Druids found a way to rationalize their supremacy. They discovered a way to close wizards from the Quy. Because they could conquer them, they were still supreme.

“Although this realm is the last, the epic of the soul may continue. When a Druid dies in this realm, if he passes the test he will become an all-knowing, all-seeing being, capable of anything and everything. If he fails he will sink to the lowest realm and begin the process again, no matter that he has achieved the highest realm or the highest status.”

“What’s the test?”

When Morrus turned toward him his dark eyes flickered with dangerous shadows. “The god the Druids believe they will become is one god. By that I mean a combination of countless Druids will make the god complete. Until it reaches consummation the god won’t function. When this god made of Druids is in fruition the realms will be no more. Hence there are only so many Druids that will become the god you refer to as ‘The Maker.’ Upon completion this god will make new worlds, new realms, and will dominate them with power beyond imagining. The Druids reference the Quy as petty compared to the powers they will possess.”

Ren’s mind spun. The Druids thought only a select few would achieve divine status, which was why they were so zealous among each other and the Lands. They were competing to become a god. Ren was shocked out of his thoughts by Morrus’ continued speech.

“But you ask about the test,” Morrus said, eyes glowing with either fervor or fury, Ren was unsure which. “The Druids of this realm pray to those Druids, or the High Order, who have gone on before us to achieve divine status. The High Order urges us forward in our quest for divinity, and they inform the Drek, through the High Priest, what those tests will be.”

Ren thought through the implications. If the Drek revealed what to do and what right or wrong was, the Druid cultus would believe him. During the ride of the Black Knight the Drek had ordered the Druid race to rid the Land of vices.

Morrus interpreted his thoughts and nodded. “Yes, the former Drek ordered the Druid race to cleanse this world of all evil. He said those cleansings would buy all Druids the promise of a higher being.”

Ren noted that Morrus invariably used the word “Druid” when referring to his kind, not “we.” Ren studied his friend. “Do you believe as the Druids believe?”

Morrus ignored the question. “I say all of that to say this. I hope you’re right and there is a Maker, one Maker, and he will help you through this. Although it may be too late to save my soul, let me just say this, and don’t take offense, but if the Druid ways are right, and when you die, because you aren’t the highest order in this realm, you’ll once again sink to the lowest, I condemn my gods and abhor my own spirit for helping them bring you to this end.”

Ren didn’t know what to say. Morrus had given him a high honor, and nothing Ren could say could express how much Morrus’ words meant to him.

The crescent moons cut the water in two golden strips. Ren suddenly wondered what Grauss knew about the moons and if there was a story about them as well.

They had drifted into the sea. Ren looked down into its icy depths. Something large stirred just below the surface. Shouts echoed from the other side of the boat. Ren turned to see one of the fallen horses mounted in a sling. The Druids lowered it into the icy water.