Faith Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 2) (36 page)

“Yes.”

Zorc glared at the crystal. “Krov, why didn’t you say this before?”

“It’s impossible.”

Zorc’s eyebrows furrowed as he stepped closer. “Why?”

Grauss’ blue eyes sparkled with his newfound discovery as he answered for the crystal. “When one Eye’s power is released the world is all good or all bad. Therefore, all would be good or all would be bad and no one would be whole enough to release the other crystal’s power. No one would want to.”

Zorc nodded in respect to Grauss. “Is this correct, Krov?”

“Yes.”

“If, for the sake of argument,” Grauss began again, “two were at play together, would the threat neutralize completely or would there be repercussions?”

“It depends on who is in control of the two crystals,” Krov said.

“Describe,” Zorc said, still visibly irritated.

“Once together the twin magic will work automatically. The good and evil of the two Eyes will balance each other, neutralize each other. But they can’t go on forever. Soon the Eyes will begin battling for power. If the person controlling them is strong enough he can shut off their power. If the person can’t control them anything can happen. One or the other or both Eyes’ power could be released.

“The person in control of the Eyes is who you need to fear, not the Eyes. Together the Eyes can capture or release whatever you wish if used by someone powerful enough, but before you use them you must think through your wish carefully. Things wished for may not be as they appear.”

Galvin let out a low whistle as Grauss muttered something under his breath. Ren just stared at the crystal, unsure of how interpret the response. How could they prepare to fight something they didn’t fully understand?

Zorc continued. “If a spirit passes through the Red Eye, does it have its own strength, or does the Eye magnify it in some way?”

“On the first passing the Eye makes the spirit stronger.”

Zorc closed his eyes. “May the Maker have mercy on our souls.”

The cave filled with a tense silence. Although Barracus’ name had yet to be spoken it seemed the very walls of the cave whispered it.

Zorc tapped the bridge of his nose. “What do you do to defeat a spirit who tries to merge with you?”

“Banish it.”

Zorc’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “Describe this banishment.”

“Once a spirit is called to the Eye it must merge with life or it can’t exist. If the vessel fights the spirit, weakens it and refuses the spirit, the spirit can be banished back into the Eye. Depending on how much strength it has left it may or may not be able to leave the Eye again. If it can’t leave the Eye, it will become part of the Eye.”

“So the spirit can’t be destroyed once it’s in the world but if it’s weakened and banished back into the Eye, the Eye could claim it?” Zorc asked. Ren stepped forward with growing hopes.

“Yes.”

“So if someone were to banish the spirit back into the Eye, the spirit may forever remain inside the Eye to never threaten the world again?”

“Yes.”

“For all time?” Zorc asked.

“For all time.”

Ren recalled the painting in the Oracle. Now he knew what the Oracle meant. If he wanted to defeat Barracus he would have to become Barracus. It was the only chance to destroy the mage. He had to let Barracus inside, drain his strength, and put him back into the Eye. The Oracles words burned in his mind.
Take heed our warnings. Both you will be. One you will become. Which on depends on thee
.

The Oracle’s warning about hate was real. He would have to battle a spirit carrying profound hate. The Oracle had warned him pain couldn’t be felt in complete hate. When Barracus’ spirit entered him he would be seduced by hate, beseeched to give away his pain.

“Krov,” Zorc said, “how can you awaken an Eye’s power? I’ve been using the Silver Eye to speak to you for centuries and I’ve never touched its true power.”

“The Eyes contain powerful properties. They were formed by the most powerful elements. Only the most powerful can awaken them or close them. Only those with the Eyes’ dominant element can awaken them. Only those with the counter element can close them.”

Zorc tapped his chin. “You mean a mage. And that mage has to have love to open the Silver Eye and hate to close it, hate to open the Red Eye and love to close it?”

“Correct.”

Zorc’s face twisted in confusion. Ren understood. Ista was a sorceress. It was impossible for her to have a mage’s power. Zorc waved his hand in frustration.

“Once the crystal’s destructive power is released, how fast does the second crystal have to be put into play?”

“Quickly.”

“Quickly, as in heartbeats or days?”

“Quickly.”

Zorc rocked forward to his toes. “If one Eye is put into action first, will it affect the equalization of the two?”

“No, but things can escape permanently from the first Eye played before the other is there to neutralize the threat.”

“There?” Zorc asked, furrowing his brow. “Do the crystals have to be together, or can they be separated by distance?”

“They have to be side by side.”

Ren sighed. Even if they were in the city of Zier itself there may not be enough time to reach the Red Eye if Ista tapped into its power. He looked at the crystal with sinking hopes. “Is there a way to tell if the Red Eye’s power is released?”

The crystal pulsated with bright force and then settled back into its wintry glow.

“The sky will turn to blood.”

Ren hung his head as the main prophecy came back to him:
The world will drown in blood
.

- - -

Ramie walked from camp and gazed toward Zier. He had been on edge for far too long. He needed to relax. Ista wasn’t coming, just as Lazo said. She thought his army a mere irritation.

Bostic had joined them last night at the base of the Sierra Mountains. Ramie hadn’t allowed Bostic’s army to mingle with his until they had searched Bostic’s soldiers. They had found two more crystals. Presario had begun intense training of the newcomers as soon as the search was over, while Lazo continued with the old.

Lazo and Presario had become fast friends and Lazo had begun to learn the patoi of magic as soon as Presario had shown it to him. With the intelligence of a triplet, Lazo’s learning had shocked even Presario. Although Lazo’s abilities had diminished because of the twins’ deaths, he was in no way less intelligent, and his power far surpassed most in the army.

Even if their magic didn’t stand a chance against Ista’s, Ramie was glad Presario had come. His skill and training had given everyone confidence, and confidence was something they desperately needed. The men were now eager to march and use what they had learned.

Those with the Quy would be the first to approach Stardom. Those without would remain behind until the first division had cleared a path with magic. If Renee had touched any hearts many of the Collective would be dead when they arrived. Some citizens may even help them open the gates. Ramie smiled as he pictured the queen’s defiant gaze. Ren had some very good people on his side.

Although Lazo said the Collective were grains of sand on the shore they couldn’t be as many grains as the armies of three nations. The armies had to outnumber them at least three to one. Even though someone with magic could do a great deal of harm, someone untrained with magic couldn’t fight off three trained soldiers with a sword all at once. Sooner or later the sword would win. At least that’s what Ramie was telling himself.

Ramie turned and looked in the direction of Fraul’s tent. Sure enough, Fraul was deep in a lesson with Manda. Ramie had to close his eyes when his gaze brushed Manda’s form. He had never seen someone with so much determination, so much energy and life, but also with so much brash disregard for customs and traditions. Even Nigel was more covert with his feelings. But Manda? Manda was a bonfire.

She laughed when he demanded silence. She teased when he had no humor in him. She screamed when he tried to tell her he wouldn’t allow her to ride to war.

And he wouldn’t. The battlefield was no place for a woman. Even Marva and Renee seemed to realize that. They weren’t planning to fight with a sword, they were planning on entering the city through the passageways, and if the army needed help on the inside they would be prepared.

But Manda glared at him when he made any mention of her remaining behind, and Fraul wouldn’t help him. His captain only laughed, insisting Manda was a better fighter than his own king.

That comment always made Ramie’s anger rise to new heights. A few days prior, he had flown into a rage, grabbing Manda by the arm and shaking her almost senseless.

She had slapped him. The shock of that slap had knocked him out of his fury, and when he found himself looking into her fiery green eyes he realized why he was so infuriated with her.

He was in love with her.

She was not only defiant, she was beautiful, and it drove him mad.

Ramie wiped his brow. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, and that really infuriated him. He was married for the love of the Maker! He had never so much as looked at another woman! But his eyes sought Manda more than he would care to admit. He was petrified she would come to harm.

Ramie forced his eyes from Manda and as his eyes caught a movement in the distance.

A brigade of soldiers marched toward them from the west. Shouts of alarm sounded in the camp, but almost as soon as the cries went up they turned to cheers. At first Ramie didn’t understand, but when he heard Manda’s burst of unrestrained laughter and saw Crape’s colors of green and gray, he smiled.

Leading the army was none other than Chris Kahn himself, and next to him, dressed in black and donning an ornate sword, was the Avenger.

When Fraul had relayed what had happened to the Kahns, Ramie had been furious. If he still had breath after the battle in Zier he planned on marching to Crape and relieving Alezza of the throne himself. Now it seemed he wouldn’t have to do that unpalatable task. Ramie couldn’t quite understand how Chris had returned, but he wouldn’t question the Maker’s fates.

Now they had four armies.

Ramie chuckled under his breath.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Manda mount her black stallion and gallop to meet her brother. Ramie watched with a mixture of joy and jealousy as she embraced both Chris and Aaron. Even from his distance he saw the love Aaron held in his eyes as he looked at Manda, but Ramie couldn’t tell if that love was something with which he should concern himself.

Ramie guffawed. Concern himself! He was married, for the love of the Maker!

Cursing, he turned and walked back toward camp as Chris, Manda, and Aaron rode to meet him.

When Chris stopped before him, Ramie had to consciously keep from flinching. Chris’ gaze was apathetic and cold.

Ramie inclined his head. “Welcome to the resistance.”

Chris’ lips twitched into a slight grin. Scant humor lit his eyes. “It’s a pleasure.”

“We march tomorrow at dawn. Will that give you enough time to prepare?”

Instead of answering, Chris looked to the sky. Ramie followed his gaze to the triangular-shaped constellation he had read about multiple times before. A large dark spot in the sky was almost touching one of the points of the triangle.

Chris turned back to Ramie, green eyes holding an intensity Ramie could only wonder at. “Tomorrow won’t be soon enough.”

Aaron nodded beside him. “If we march now we could reach Zier by dawn.”

Chris’ eyes bore into Ramie. “We leave now. Prepare your men and follow as soon as you can.”

Without another word, Chris and Aaron passed him. Manda glanced at him only briefly, as if daring him to order her to stay, before bolting after Chris.

Ramie gritted his teeth. How dare Chris Kahn tell him what to do! He was the one who had organized this revolt! And Manda! Ramie released a heavy grunt and watched Manda ride farther away from him. Clinching his fists, he felt the sudden need to throw something – anything!

He looked back at the sky. Was the black spot closer? A sudden chill, colder than the Mynher himself, shivered through him. Without further ado he spun and marched toward camp, mumbling that this wasn’t the time to let his anger get the better of him.

He shouted for Fraul. If the troops weren’t ready in a moons’ click he would leave without them.

- - -

Quinton tried to regain his balance, but it was futile. He fell. Cursing the night, Quinton watched as the Crape army surged passed him. How he wanted to join them. How he wanted to destroy Ista. If only he had a horse!

If only the wolven hadn’t come.

Collapsing back into the grass Quinton screamed in frustration. It was dark. No one in Crape’s army had seen him emerging from the nearby trees, and the pounding hooves would drown his scream. Ramie’s army had yet to leave but Quinton knew he would be unable to reach them in time. They were already abandoning camp and mounting their horses.

With a heavy grunt, Quinton pushed himself up and looked at the bloody stump that had once been his left leg. He would never be able to run again. But with the Maker’s help, he would learn to walk. Taking the two long, thick branches he had whittled to staffs, Quinton pulled himself up and managed to stand. His right leg shook with effort.

When he fell for the second time Quinton bowed his head and heaved a sigh. He was too tired, far too tired.

For days he had lived with the pain. For days he had risen only to fall. For days he had lived with the horror of the memories: Michel’s eyes, shifting between sanity and insanity; Michel’s terror of what he had become, of what he didn’t want Ren to see.

Quinton pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to banish the images. When Michel had finally pinned him, he thought he would never again see the light of day. He knew if Michel didn’t kill him the wolven would.

As the wolven bounded toward them, eyes fixed on the kill, saliva running down their gaping jaws, Michel had released him. The wolven, smelling the fresh blood from the knife wound in his thigh, had attacked, taking his leg with only a few bites of their powerful jaws.

But instead of Michel leaving him for dead, he had once again transformed into the man Quinton knew well. With a strength Quinton could barely fathom, Michel had taken him and lifted him into a nearby tree. He had barely been able to grab hold and swing his body over the branch. He had screamed for Michel to follow, but it was too late.