Key of Living Fire (The Sword of the Dragon) (54 page)

“It is a good long walk, but if you enjoy the beauty of creation, as I do, the trip will be too short.” He smiled down at her and strode over a tree-laden hill, then plucked a blueberry from a nearby bush. He ate the sweet berry, and Escentra followed his example. Again he smiled, and he led her homeward, raising his arm as the Nuvitor glided through the trees.

The bird’s talons latched onto his arm, and it cooed in his ear. “It is good to be in the homeland, Master.”

When the long walk ended, he was beneath a canopy of stars, and he gazed upon his house nestled on the hilltop. The warm glow of lanterns filled the windows, and shadows passed before them. He opened the door, and Oganna ran into his arms as Seivar flew into the house. The bird collided with its mate, and the pair cuddled on the hearth before a ripping fire. Ombre, Honer, and Ganning stood in the kitchen, mugs in their raised hands as they toasted his arrival. The Warrioresses swept toward him, swallowing him in their embraces. Escentra turned to the door, but he put his arm around her shoulder and turned her toward his family and friends.

“Everyone, I want you to meet the newest addition to our family.” He waited as all eyes fell upon the dark-haired girl. “This is Escentra.” And he introduced her, one by one, to every individual in the room.

EPILOGUE

T
he rain pelted the clearing, rivulets flowing through the mud, linking with each other and running down the hillside. Ilfedo sat in a rocking chair on the stone patio in front of his house. The chair’s motion was gentle beneath him and the cider mug warm in his hand. He pulled his bearskin tighter around his shoulders, let it cocoon him so that his body heat did not escape into the cool afternoon air.

The sword of the dragon he’d left in his bedroom. He was glad to be free of it for a while. It reminded him that he should not be resting, that the people of Dresdyn had pledged themselves to him and he had failed them.

He sipped the hot cider. As the liquid seared his throat, he opened his mouth in a satisfied exhale. The fluid was too hot, but it felt good. The flash of pain placed him in the world of the living, affirmed that he was not in a nightmare. That all these years that had transformed him from a happy child into an orphan, and then widower, he had fought for those he loved and for the innocent. He had a purpose, a mission, that pulled him out of his grief.

A wall of water ran off the patio roof. It formed a vertical river that splashed around the patio, filling the drainage ditch. The ditch diverted the water along the side of the house and down the hill into the line of trees.

He sipped at the steaming cider and closed his eyes, listening to the rain.

“Father.” Oganna’s feet tiptoed toward him.

He opened his eyes, and her smile warmed his face with a smile of his own. “It is good to be home, my child.”

“It is so good to have you home.” She sat on the stone bench beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

He stopped rocking and stroked her hair. It was soft and clean. He touched his own hair, and judged his greasiness. When he looked down, he found her grinning at him. “What?”

“Aunt Evela swears you haven’t washed since you left home.”

“Oh, it hasn’t been that long,” he said. “I washed in an underground waterfall before leaving Resgeria.”

She laughed and stood, reaching her arm into the sheet of water falling off the roof. It washed over her arm, and she pulled it back. She shivered and hugged herself, gazing back at him. “Are you still planning a trip to Gwensin tomorrow?”

“Yes. The council must be informed of what I found in the Hidden Realm. I feel it only right to tell them everything. They are the voices of the people, and without my support their authority becomes inconsequential.”

She sat beside him and whispered in his ear. “I think you should bring Escentra with you. She seems to have lost all memory of anything prior to her meeting you. Not only that, I think she’s feeling kind of lost right now. But she admires you. The trip could be good for her.”

“Very well, my daughter.” He stared into his mug. Escentra was a wild card in his life. He had hoped to adopt her into the family, but somehow she didn’t seem to fit. She spoke amiably with everyone, and worked hard to earn her keep, but she was warm to no one. Perhaps new scenery would help her find a place in the Hemmed Land. “If she is so inclined, I will take her with me,” he said at last.

Oganna switched the subject. “And have you decided where the next search for a new homeland will begin?”

He sipped the warm cider and closed his eyes, refreshed by the raw taste. “I have discussed this with Ombre, Honer, and Ganning, as well as your aunts. I believe an exploratory mission across the Sea of Serpents must be our next priority. We have scrolls that speak of lands south of the Resgerian desert. Unfortunately, the scrolls are suspect historical fiction. And since we cannot rely on their content, I have proposed a search eastward first. The wide-open sea should make it easy for a small crew to sail the
Maiden Voyage
along unknown coastlines and judge land before setting foot on it. Once a land is found, they can sail quickly back to the Hemmed Land. If the dragon Venom-fier lives beyond the sea, we will find him.”

“Venom-fier?”

He stood and heaved a long breath, staring through the rain as if he could see the pool of water in the western woods—as if he could see Dantress’s grave. Wanting to remember her in life, he had not ventured to that place for years. But he saw it in his mind as clearly as the day he buried her. The great white dragon, all muscle and sinew, rose before him.

“Venom-fier,” he said at last, “is a dragon that your grandfather told me to search for when the Hemmed Land could no longer contain my people. Back then I did not take the dragon’s word seriously. I stored it in the very back of my memory. But, my daughter, I have seen that his prophecy is coming true, and the time has come to earnestly search out a new land for our people.”

“Will you be going on this voyage, Father?”

He shook his head and put his arm around her shoulders, walking her back to the door. Rain continued to patter on the roof. “I have other things that require my immediate attention. For this mission I will be relying on a small band of capable men and women, people whom I can trust to focus on their mission and report back to me when they find something.”

“But, Father, whom will you send? I would volunteer myself, but I must return to Fort Gabel. Construction is progressing a bit slower than anticipated.”

He let her question remain unanswered until they sat inside before the fireplace. Seivar and Hasselpatch flew out of the kitchen. As he sat in the hammock, the birds plopped in with him, cooing. He stared into the flames, letting their mesmerizing dance of color and energy calm the turmoil in his heart. He could not shake the face of the massive Cromlin out of his mind. What if creatures such as that lived beyond the sea? He would be sending the voyagers to their deaths.

“Father, is something else bothering you?” Oganna sat on the hearth, and the viper coiled beside her.

He continued to stare into the flames. “You remember what I told you about the enormous creature that broke the black dragon’s back? It did that with ease, as if the dragon were nothing more than a doll. But the dragon was—well—the most vicious creature and the most powerful adversary I have ever faced. What if I send people that we love across the sea, and they encounter something like that?”

For a little while she was silent, then she lowered her voice. “No, Father. Don’t send
them
. They have done so much already.”

“It is not by my choice,” he said. “Caritha volunteered and”—he hung his head—“I cannot refuse. The crew of the
Maiden Voyage
will go with them. The Warrioresses will only be there to protect and defend the crew should a situation arise. There is no one under my command whom I trust more.”

Oganna rose and faced him; her gaze touched his soul with fire born of uncommon strength of will. “Then I will go too.”

“No,” he said. “The construction of Fort Gabel is your task. No other’s. You will remain in the Hemmed Land and tend to your duties.”

Her shoulders relaxed a bit, then she shook her head. “I cannot explain this, Father. But I do not support your decision. However, for your sake and the peoples’, I will.” She kissed his forehead and sat back on the hearth.

“Will you be accompanying us?” Caritha glanced sidelong at Ilfedo as he walked beside her in the forest in the dim morning hour.

He stopped and shook his head with a sigh. “I wish I could, but Vortain would like nothing better. During my absence on this last expedition I fear I lost some of my hold on the council. Vortain is quick and cunning. Though I respect him, I fear that he is dividing the people in what should be a concerted effort to plan for relocation to a larger territory in which future generations can stretch their arms without touching another human being.”

Caritha stared up at him. “Ilfedo, in my absence, promise me you will rely more heavily on Oganna.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” She glanced at the ground as if deep in thought or recollecting something. “She is skilled with more than her sword, and I believe she has the complete support of the politicians, including Vortain. We both know that you do not. I fear difficult times still lie ahead of us, especially for you. But if you share the burden with Oganna and with Ombre, you will come out stronger.”

“Why do you sound as if you are saying farewell forever?” He chuckled as they rose onto the muddy hill in front of his home. The ground sloshed beneath his boots as he pointed east at the rising sun. The animal skin around his shoulders felt cozy. “I have great confidence in the
Maiden Voyage
, her captain, her crew, and you with your sisters to handle anything you may face.”

“No one can plan for every contingency,” she said. “We will not know what is on the other side of the sea until we cross it. It may be all that we hope for, or it could be something unsuitable.” She sighed and patted his shoulder, then walked into the house. He watched her go and hoped that he was doing the right thing.

When he strode into his house, Laura and Levena rose out of their chairs beside the fireplace. Evela remained seated on the hearth, and Caritha gave him a gentle smile.

Rose’el stood in the kitchen. She chopped a potato in two, sticking the knife into the cutting board. She stamped her foot and walked away from it. She faced him and crossed her arms across her chest. “I still say you should go with us, Brother.”

“How could I do that?” He made a fist and punched his other hand. “How could I drop everything and leave at a time like this? Vortain is breathing down my neck. I will have all I can handle just effecting some kind of rescue for the people of Dresdyn. That is, if the city is not destroyed by now, with all its inhabitants. I made them a promise. I must return and bring those people home.”

Her face softened and her eyes widened. She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. The remaining sisters glanced at one another, and he gasped. “Rose’el, what has happened to you?”

“Sorry!” She pulled back and stared hard at him. “You are so right, and I was so wrong. Please, please, please forgive me! Some nights I dream that you die, and then I think what I fool I’ve been to be so harsh with those I love.”

“You dream that I die?” he asked.

“In a very horrid manner,” she said. “But, humph! That is not relevant. Please accept my apology and know that whatever happens I am fully behind this mission.”

He took her hand, leaned over, and kissed it. He smiled up to find her frowning down at him.

“Umm, well, I guess we are good now. You can release my hand, Brother.”

And he did so with a bow.