Redemption Of The Sacred Land (Book 3) (3 page)

“The essence I absorbed, it’s a long story, but to sum it up, I felt the presence of your dragon magic and I also used it. I re-enchanted my sword
Dranmalin
. The ability must have come from your essence.”

Shey gnashed her teeth. “Well, it’s a possibility, but I suspect it may have come from another. Again, I will fill you in when we can sit and talk.” She sized the ward to see how she could overcome it.

“I am not worried about your linage, my lady, you have proven yourself to me already.” He also sized the ward. “I have an idea of what to do now.” Dorenn reached out to the blocked doorway. “Here, touch it at the same time I do.” As soon as his and Lady Shey’s palms touched the ward, it shimmered and disappeared.

“Convenient!” Morgoran said.

Dorenn pushed open the remaining intact door to find utter darkness. “I can’t see a thing in there. What did we bring for light?”

“Allow me.” Shey stepped through the door, and Dorenn felt the familiar rush of essence. One by one, the library’s braziers and wall sconces lit up in flame. “A trick I once learned from a very dear, departed friend.” She looked at Dorenn, and he thought he could see sadness in her eyes.

The library appeared unaffected by time. It was as pristine as the day it was built. Walls and walls of books and parchments extended from the bottom floor up two spiral staircases to disappear out of sight on the second floor.

Surveying the room, Dorenn was surprised when his eyes fell upon a particularly strange sight. In the center of the main room, behind the main desk, was a man floating above the floor, suspended in a black, lightless flame. Dorenn signaled for the rest to follow and then hurried to the individual. The man’s arms were crossed over while holding two wicked daggers. Two sword hilts protruded from over his shoulders. He appeared to be middle-aged, with long hair intermingled with grey.

“Who could this be and why is he trapped in a dragon-protected library?” Dorenn asked. When no one answered his question or said anything, Dorenn looked back to see Lady Shey wiping away tears and Morgoran with his hand on her shoulder. Ianthill took a deep, sympathetic breath.

Shey wiped the remaining tears from her eyes and sniffed. “His name is Veric Namear. He is my father.”

“Oh, didn’t you say you were orphaned?” Dorenn couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Lady Shey sniffed again, and Morgoran handed her a handkerchief to wipe her nose. “I was left by my parents as a child, it’s true. I didn’t lie. I was unaware of my parents until I was at least fourteen seasons. I was a child of the streets of Old Symbor.” She broke her sadness with a quick snicker. “We really should have that talk soon.”

“Aye, we should,” Dorenn agreed. He examined the black flames. “What is this?”

“A form of blackfire,” Morgoran answered. “Don’t touch it!” Dorenn drew back his hand. “I should think it’s a dragon magic version. Instead of doing damage, it appears to preserve.”

“I don’t mean to be indelicate, but didn’t you wonder where your father had gone all these seasons? I presume you have met him before, haven’t you?” Dorenn asked.

Shey looked at Morgoran. He held up his hands. “It’s up to you. You can tell him now or later; I don’t think it will matter much either way. He needs to know the truth sometime.”

Shey nodded and then took one of Dorenn’s hands in hers. “Dorenn, what I am about to tell you may seem strange or unbelievable at first. You must let me explain, all right? Can you do that?”

“Rest assured, what is it?”
Finally, some answers
, he thought.

“I am the daughter of Sylvalora, the Silver Drake. She is my mother and the wife of Veric. Until Toborne took her away at Brightonhold Keep, she had been searching for my father while she helped me find you.”

“How is that even possible?” Dorenn was surprised that he didn’t believe her as he thought he would.

“She was given the gift of life from Loracia, the goddess of life. With that gift, and being female, also came the gift to create life, just like any other living woman. She met and fell in love with my father, Veric. Since she is essentially a unique form of drake, he became her dragon knight. He can sense her and find her wherever she may be, just as any dragon knight bonds with their dragon. That is, unless someone finds a way to trap him.”

“Is Sylvalora a woman, an elf, or a drake?” Dorenn asked.

“She is all of them. One of the gifts she received from the gods was to represent all the races they created. Each time she has to become the Silver Drake, she returns as a different race. The last time she returned as elvish. If she is not the Silver Drake now, she will be another race of the world.”

“So . . . why is your father here?”

“I have no idea,” Lady Shey said. “We have not seen him since the War of the Oracle. I had almost given up hope. Now, if you don’t mind, could we free him?”

“It’s Toborne. It has to be his work,” Morgoran grumbled. “I wouldn’t be so quick to free him. We better check for traps.”

“The War of the Oracle!” Dorenn gasped. “He’s been here since before the Sacred Land, trapped in a bleeding library.”

“I don’t like hearing you swear, Dorenn,” Shey scolded him. “I hold you in too high a regard.”

“Sorry, my lady,” he apologized.

“Holy bloody fire! Is that Veric Namear?” Gondrial said as he stumbled into the library.

“I thought you didn’t want to be here!” Lady Shey said.

“I got bored. Also, my hangover is better.”

“Lucky us,” Shey said. “Aye, this is my father. We are about to free him, and I would hope you would have respect for him.”

“I do, I do. I have an incredibly high respect for him.” Gondrial looked at Dorenn. “Does he know everything now?”

“Aye, I just told him about my mother,” Shey said.

“So, you finally got around to letting Dorenn know where you came from.” He shook Dorenn’s hand. “Welcome to the club, lad. There are many more life-shattering secrets to come with your new membership.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Gondrial,” Ianthill said as he took the half-empty bottle of elvish wine his former apprentice had just produced from his robes away from him.

“Hey, that’s mine.”

“Not anymore.” Ianthill turned the bottle bottoms up and swigged the whole of it, slamming the bottle down on the desk afterward. Gondrial watched disappointed.

“If you two are finished, can we get back to the issue at hand?” Morgoran stated.

Dorenn, who had been thinking about how Sylvalora had told him that she chose him to find her, had a realization. “This is what she meant. I would be the one who could find her. The best way to find her would be to free Veric.”

“How did you arrive at that?” Gondrial’s words dripped with sarcasm. “That’s not the brightest observation you’ve come up with.”

“What about this?” Dorenn reached out and touched the blackfire barrier as his hands sparked with purple lightning until the black flames lit up in yellow and orange and flashed out. Veric fell to the floor.

“Or it could work, I guess,” Gondrial stated. “Brave. I wouldn’t have done it.”

Shey went directly to her father, who was slowly coming out of his sleep. She knelt down and put her hand on his forehead as he woke. He looked up at her with astonishment. “Sheyna, is that you? You’re all grown up, but I would recognize that smile and those eyes anywhere.”

Gondrial rolled his eyes.

“It is I, Father. We have just freed you from a dragon’s blackfire curse.”

“How long?” He gasped and coughed. “How long have I been here?”

“What is the last thing you remember? Was I still an adept at the tower?” Shey asked.

“Aye, I had just left you and that boy on my way to find Toborne. He had to answer for taking Sylvalora. I vaguely remember that man you called the Oracle, and then nothing.” He grabbed ahold of Shey. “Your mother, where is Sylvalora? I can feel she is in danger.”

“Not now, Father, rest a moment. I will tell you all you need to know about Mother when you regain your strength.” She ran her fingers over the shiny silver daggers her father still clutched in his hands. “Our daggers—the daggers I held onto as a child. These daggers made me feel safe.”

“Aye, dear daughter, I would never part with them. The dragon that put me here tried to take them from me. He tried to take all of my weapons away, but I fooled him into letting me keep them with me. In the end, he let me keep them for my honor as a dragon knight.”

“What did this dragon look like? Was he one of the Draegodor broods?” Morgoran asked.

“You will not believe me, Morgoran. He was a gold,” Veric said.

“A gold-scaled dragon? Are you sure it was a gold?”

“As sure as I am here telling you.”

Morgoran and Ianthill exchanged worried glances. “What is it now?” Dorenn asked.

Morgoran rubbed his forehead. “Why would Golvashala want Veric imprisoned?”

“How do you know it was him?” Ianthill asked.

“No other gold-scaled dragon would have been down from Mount Venifyre at that time. He must have wanted to keep Veric from going after the Silver Drake.”

“Which means he did it to allow Toborne to steal her back, then,” Ianthill said.

“What are you two talking about?” Dorenn was confused.

Gondrial absently swirled his finger in the dust of the main front desk. “Before the War of the Oracle, Toborne first stole the Silver Drake to try and take control of dragonkind. Morgoran tried to stop her from killing Toborne and was cursed by her with clear eyes, where he could only see into the future, for the attempt. A gold-scaled dragon was rumored to be in Toborne’s control for a while, controlled by the manipulation of the godly power of the Silver Drake. That’s a big deal because according to legend, Fawlsbane Vex himself created the gold and silver dragons. They are supposed to be celestial beings and therefore cannot be easily manipulated.”

Veric, at the sound of a familiar voice, looked up at Gondrial. The vein in his forehead began to throb, and his face turned red with anger. “You are still consorting with the likes of him?” He pushed himself up to standing position.

“Father, stop,” Shey said.

“Veric, don’t do anything hasty. That was a long time ago,” Gondrial pleaded.

“Not to me it wasn’t,” Veric countered.

“Surely we can have more civil heads,” Morgoran said. “We have more pressing issues than something Gondrial may have done a thousand seasons ago.”

“He coated the inside of my armor with honey and placed it on an ant bed! I probably still have the welts from the stings.”

Gondrial tried as hard as he could, but first he cracked a smile and then he started chuckling. “I was young. I didn’t do it on purpose,” he mused.

“I’ll kill him!” Veric lurched forward, but Shey pulled him back. “If you were merely young and inexperienced, then why would you coat my armor with honey? You had to do it on purpose.”

Dorenn could not contain his laughter, and as soon as he started, a stern look from Morgoran quickly crushed the urge.

Gondrial was trying to hold his laughter. “I swear. I had a best friend back then who liked to play jokes on me. He told me that the honey would take out the tarnish. I didn’t know any better.”

Veric settled down. “I knew you would end up in his company the first time I saw you together.”

“Father, no. Gondrial and I never did get together. I listened to you. I promise.” She gave Gondrial a mournful glance. “We never had anything together.”

Gondrial’s jovial smile abruptly ended with a somber, angry expression. “It was a promise to your father! That’s why you left me feeling like a fool? That’s the reason you married my best friend!” He admonished Veric. “How ironic. You blame me for your armor, and the one who actually talked me into doing it your daughter married.” Gondrial stormed away into the darkness of the library.

“Gondrial, wait!” Shey called after him.

“Let him go,” Veric said to her. “Who did you marry? Where is he? I should like to meet him.”

Lady Shey gave him a sour look. “You don’t want to know, Father. Let’s just say he turned out to be a lot worse than your fear of Gondrial.” She yanked her arm away from him and went looking for Gondrial.

Veric pulled himself up by steading himself on the desk. Dorenn rushed to help him up. “I don’t believe we have met, young man.” Veric Said.

When Veric could stand, Dorenn held out his hand. “Dorenn Adair of Brookhaven.” He thought it was odd that the man didn’t go after his daughter.

Veric took his hand. “I don’t believe I have heard of Brookhaven. Where is it located? Trigothia?”

“Symboria, near the southern pass.”

“Symboria. I see,” he said. “There appears to be much I need to catch up on.”

“Where are you from?” Dorenn asked.

“I am from Symboria as well. I am from Paladine.” Dorenn’s face showed no recognition. “I am sure you have heard of it being from a village near the southern pass. It is a large city just south, near the coast. Its ports service the isle of Arillia.”

“I think you are describing Symbor.”

“Symbor? Symbor is hundreds of leagues to the east, on the other side of Lake Trenan.”