Faith Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 2) (27 page)

“Wizards began going mad and the people of the Lands turned to the Druids for help, once again believing in Druid supremacy. The remaining wizards soon learned what had happened, but by that time it was too late. All the Druids’ former knowledge of how to shut the door without destroying the person was gone. But that was what Donnu wanted. He planned on driving the wizards mad and regaining power for the Druids.”

“But can’t someone find the knowledge again?” Galvin asked.

“It’s unlikely. The Druids who knew how to shut the door and not lock it have long since died. With each new generation the shadow of the knowledge slips further and further away. I doubt even the most powerful Druid would be able to deduce how they had once been able to accomplish the task.”

“Did the wizards do anything when they discovered the Druid deception?” Nigel asked.

“Oh yes,” Zorc said with vengeful eyes. “They created the Druidonian.”

Nigel whistled. “That’s doing something.”

A small smile touched Zorc’s lips, but it quickly faded. “As soon as the Druid deception was discovered the remaining wizards plotted their revenge. When the Druid Caucus took place that year and all the Druids went to Dresden, the wizards put their plan into play. The wizards decided on the silver dragon, the fiercest beast known to man, to base the creature. And then they changed it, added to it, and subtracted from it, to form what is now called the Druidonian.”

“So it’s really just a silver dragon, only altered?” Nigel asked, not surprised. Some books called the beast the dragon of the Old Sea.

“It isn’t just a silver dragon,” Zorc said quietly. “It’s a magical creature through and through. Although it began as a silver dragon, each part of it was molded and shaped by the wizards: each scale made perfect, each bone made stronger than iron, each talon made lethal, each ounce of blood made deadly. It’s a creature that can’t be destroyed by magic. It’s a creature that can’t be destroyed by weapons. It’s a creature that can’t be destroyed.”

The wind whipped and lashed in haunting tones, causing the xectics to sing their shrill cry. Nigel spun, shedding his cloak and covering the flails. He held his breath. When the noise abated with no incident, only then did he begin to breathe. When he turned back to the others, Zorc had paled. Nigel wondered if the wizard had ever seen the creature.

Zorc eyed the xectics with a dangerous frown. “The wizards created the creature to keep the Druids on Dresden. The Druidonian circled the island, and if the Druids tried to leave it would attack. But something went wrong; and let this be a lesson to us all. If you transform life, it’s out of your control. It has a mind of its own. That’s what happened to the Druidonian. It formed a pact with the Druids and now it’s their protector, not their captor.”

“What’s the pact?” Galvin asked.

“They feed it.”

Nigel’s heart began to race. He didn’t want to know what they fed it. He surely did not. His eyes met Galvin’s. The same sentiments were mirrored in Galvin’s gaze, but Galvin finally turned to Zorc.

“Feed it what?”

“Their women.”

The wind howled around them, sending a chill down Nigel’s back. He looked toward Dresden, unable to see the island in the fading light. No one knew why there weren’t any Druid women. It was a topic always dismissed as unsolvable. No Druid women had ever been seen and none were mentioned. When the topic was brought up the Druids ignored it, and no one wanted a Druid to be angry with them so the topic was left to die.

Nigel’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. “I don’t understand why this is unknown, or why it’s allowed.”

“It’s unknown because the Druids don’t want it known and the wizards are ashamed. It’s allowed because the Druids do so, no matter how brutal, to survive. The wizards of old allow it because if the Druids were destroyed the Druidonian would search elsewhere for food. It would come to the mainland. The magic that created the creature is strong enough to keep it close to the island, but what would happen if the Druids weren’t there to feed it?”

Nigel swallowed, closing his eyes. Years ago he had almost wiped out the entire Druid race. Thank the Maker he hadn’t.

“Some Druids tried to escape the island when the Druidonian was first put into the sea,” Zorc continued. “They, of course, died. The creature became hungry for human flesh, so much so it attacked Dresden, almost destroying the entire city. After that the Druids began feeding it their women. In those days women Druids were considered expendable, even though, in some respects, they were even more powerful than the men. I believe once a woman reaches a certain age she’s forced to birth a child, then she’s fed to the Druidonian.”

“But magic has been dead for almost four hundred years,” Galvin said. “The Druidonian has been dormant. Why aren’t there any women now?”

“I don’t know and I don’t know if I really care to know. The Druids have always been a zealous, secretive breed. I’m sure they’ve rationalized their ritual sacrifices in some way; and because the Druids have sacrificed their women for so long, with the lull in magic, they may have continued to sacrifice them for other reasons.”

Nigel remained silent. Now he understood why the Druids hadn’t hesitated to kill Megglan and Sherri. They considered women expendable, only good for sacrifices. Yes, it was about time the Druids knew his identity. He may not come back from Dresden alive but he would take ten times a tenfold down with him. Nigel felt eyes upon him and turned to meet Zorc’s coal-black glare.

“Don’t do anything foolish on Dresden. If they’ve already put Ren’s power behind the door, only you have a chance to save him. You know how to split your mind and protect yourself from them. You may know something that can break him free. If you die, Ren dies, and all hope is lost for the people you love in this world.”

Nigel tensed but remained silent. Zorc turned and walked away. Nigel knew the wizard was right, but he wanted to go to Dresden without duty or moral obligation. He wanted to go to Dresden and obliterate every Druid he could. The Druidonian would have plenty more to feed on.

Before he could consider Zorc’s words, Galvin locked his gaze. The man seemed to glow with an interior light of pure, unblemished confidence. The wind whipped his white-blond hair around his face like sheets of lightning.

“I abhor the Druid race. They destroyed my family long ago, leaving only one of us alive. There have been many times I wished I were riding beside you, mutilating every Druid in the Lands.” Galvin paused. Nigel leaned closer, not wanting to miss what the wind was trying to tear away.

“The man you’re about to save is only a man, but he’s one of the best men I’ve ever known. I don’t say that because he’s the Chosen, the title doesn’t do him justice, but you won’t believe me until you see for yourself. I don’t know why you hate the Druids, and it isn’t my place to ask, but I’ll ask one thing of you, and keep in mind this request comes from someone who hates Druids as well.” Galvin’s deep brown eyes were penetrating. Nigel had never seen so much inner strength in someone, not even his brother. He nodded for Galvin to continue.

“Focus on Ren, get him out, and save his mind. I assure you, you won’t regret it.”

Galvin kept his gaze locked on Nigel for a few heartbeats before he walked off into the night. Nigel leaned against the railing and closed his eyes, battling the voices in his mind.

He thought of his little brother. Ramie had grown into a man since Nigel had left. He thought about his father and mother, to whom he had never been able to say goodbye. He thought about his sister and Sherri and made himself stop there. He was fighting ghosts he would never be able to defeat. The pain would always be there. Sherri and Meg would never be with him again. He would never see his parents again. He had missed years of his brother’s life. Nothing could get that back. If he killed every Druid on Dresden it wouldn’t be enough.

Nigel took off of his left glove and looked at the brand. He had lived with his hate for so long he didn’t know what he would do without it. Could he release it long enough to save the man on the island? He remembered the respect Ramie held for the prince and knew if his brother felt that strongly about Ren, he had to try.

The latch lifted. Ren stood as Morrus entered the room, his customary gray robe replaced with a white one. Their eyes locked in friendship, but before Ren could speak Feher interjected, “It’s time, Chosen.”

Ren tensed, eyes flickering to Marinus. Avalon was nowhere to be seen.

“Will Morrus lead it?” Ren asked.

“Yes,” Feher said, his distaste obvious.

Ren tried to catch Morrus’ eye once more, but the former LoDrek had bowed his head. Ren heaved a sigh and followed Morrus and Feher down the hall, Marinus following.

Ren kept his eyes locked on the back of Morrus’ head. Morrus had shaved off his black tuft of hair. Ren wondered if the gesture had anything to do with the closing or if it had something to do with Avalon replacing him as LoDrek.

The moonstone chambers seemed to have no end. The Druids’ ceremonial robes blended so well with the moonstone Ren had to concentrate to distinguish between the white-robed Druids and the walls. The scent of vanilla hung heavy in the air and as they moved deeper in the temple Ren descried almost imperceptible hollows in the stone where small candles were lit to wash the moonstone corridor in a haunting glow.

The hallway twisted and curved, and Ren could sense their descent into the earth, but as soon as he thought they were about to reach the bottom of the temple they led him up a narrow circular stairway. They were taking him to the base of the slender culmination he had seen from the ship.

He had relived his memories the prior night, bringing them to the surface and studying each detail. Now he brought them to mind again. They flashed through his subconscious with vivid clarity. He concentrated harder. His thoughts were so strong his chest began to heat with emotion. The Druids hadn’t tried to break his wall recently so he relaxed his hold, sending more of his strength into his memories and beliefs. They burned through him like a meadow fire. They were almost blinding.

The heat at his chest became painful. When he reached for the spot he quickly pulled his burnt fingers away and stared at the soft blue light visible beneath his tunic.

The star sapphire was glowing.

Ren’s mind reeled at the implications. He focused harder, releasing more of his wall and sending more of his energy into bringing his memories to life. When he concentrated on the stone his memories became more vivid. At times he thought he could reach out and touch them. Then he remembered how Galvin had told him to believe right before his eyes had flickered to the stone.

The stone would hold his memories until Markum opened his door.

A complete calm washed over him. His faith in the Maker and the Oracle flickered to new heights. He wasn’t a prisoner of fate but a prisoner of doubt. If you trusted the Maker and let him steer you, even if the path looked impossible, your fate worse than death, whatever happened would be right. Trust Him to the why, Galvin had said, you just follow the how.

A door carved with ornamental runes loomed before him. As Feher opened it a soft, eerie humming drifted into the hall.

Ren shifted his gaze to where Feher pointed. A lone pedestal rested at the center of a stair-stepped platform, barely discernable among the white moonstone floors. Two steps bolstered the platform, forming an arc that swept the room. Another curved section faced the platform, but where only two steps formed the first, multiple steps marched up the second. Those steps held hundreds of white-robed Druids. When Ren stepped forward, the entire Druid clan turned his way.

Ren felt a hand on his arm and looked up into Morrus’ eyes. Morrus’ former mustache had been shaved, and his skin was shimmery, as if he had been in an oil bath.

“Courage to you,” Morrus whispered.

Ren nodded, grateful someone in all this madness cared for him as a human being. He whispered his thanks before he walked toward the center pedestal.

The humming stopped. The only sound was the echo of his footsteps on the moonstone floor.

He wished he wore something else with color besides his brown pants and boots. The white surrounding him left him slightly off balance, like he was walking in a mystic abstraction, looking through another’s eyes but feeling every emotion. The white was maddening. It went against what was about to occur and marred the color’s purity.

Part of him wished the countless Druids would turn so he could see their black tufts of hair, something that would provide a concrete image.

Apparently every Druid had come for his closing. If all were needed, he was unsure. But it was no matter. He came willingly. In a few heartbeats he would release his wall completely and let them fulfill his fate.

He glanced up when he reached the pedestal. The thin pyramid ended in a pinprick of dark sky. He could see a star through the shaft and wondered if it was the synergy. He would like to think it was. The thought calmed him.

Marinus tapped his shoulder and motioned for Ren to mount the stone pedestal. Marinus sat in a moonstone chair to the pedestal’s left. Feher took the seat to the pedestal’s right. As soon as Ren had stepped on top of the smooth stone Feher and Marinus lifted a stone goblet to their lips and drank its contents. When Ren turned to face the assembly he saw the entire Druid clan doing the same.

Ren discerned Morrus amidst the sea of clouds, gliding past the crescent horde on his way to a small, round stone resting below the main platform. Ren followed him with his eyes, longing for an allied spirit, but when Morrus turned to face him he wore the expressionless Druid mask.

Morrus raised his hands. The stark silence in the auditorium became deafening. Not even a robe moved. One of Ren’s hands clutched the star sapphire on its own volition.

Feher began to chant in the old language, and Marinus joined in. The Druids on the terraced steps started to sway, and one by one their voices merged and congealed together. The chant shook Ren’s bones and rumbled deep in the hollows of his gut.