Eilee was gone, she'd been lost in the dark.
Yeera emerged with Leyden as they stepped out into an opening, it was welcome after traversing through the narrow passageways for so long. There was a well in the center of the chamber, at least it was what looked like a well, long out of commission with no bucket attached to it. There was a faint light coming up from the bottom, as if there was something down there, looking for a sign from above. Leyden threw a rock into the drop off and waited for the crash or splash while Yeera met his gaze, it had to have been close to a full minute before it hit water. Leyden approached, blue light shone on his face, he heard humming, like somebody was there with them, and they were singing. He drew his sword and spun to see Yeera, her eyes were pink and white, and pulsed with a milky substance. She was the one singing, humming a melody he didn't recognize. She was walking towards him, a small smile on her face caused Leyden to back up.
"Yeera! Yeera!"
She ignored him, her smile got wider, and she fell to her knees in front of the well. She wasn't threatening him, so he didn't have to use his sword right away, but that made it worse, he had absolutely no idea what to do.
"Yeera, can you hear me?!"
She licked her lips and stared into the well without blinking. Darkness sat, but then light particles came together and took shape. The light swelled with the same pinkish hue in Yeera's eyes. It peeked and Leyden dropped his sword and tried to pull her back, so much so his fingernails dug into her but she didn't flinch at all. An energy burst shot from the well and knocked Leyden to his back but left Yeera unharmed. An ethereal hand reached up and gripped the edge of the well, then there was another.
The phantom showed itself, but it was beautiful. Naked and transfixing. Energy burned in her eyes and mouth. Its hair blew in a breeze, it stroked Yeera's face and she was overcome with a feeling of nostalgia, of being home after a long voyage, and they kissed as long lost lovers would. Yeera was utterly powerless and didn't care, she was exactly where she wanted to be. Then the spirit bit her neck and drank her blood, her blood filled her, making it a darker color, a reddish-black sludge. When it had had enough it pulled Yeera into the well, into the darkness and out of sight.
--
The rain was frozen up the mountain, small flakes drifted down weightless and helpless in the wind. Morrigan felt ill, she was surprised by how well he had managed herself in the two weeks that had passed since she left the Capital. She looked over at Cara, she hadn't known her long but got the sense she was always hard to read, on the outside she seemed fine, the same she'd been when they left, just a little red from the sun. She checked on Sandril too, and paused for a moment to scratch him behind the ears. She knew he had to be the most tired of them all, Sandril wasn't fat, but he'd never walked very far from home. She knew how much he slept at home, and knew how much he wanted to return just for that very activity. She couldn't remember a noteworthy dream from her time in the various camps, she hadn't had any premonitions, no unsettling images had jolted her forward and awake. On such a grand quest it was hard to remember that she wasn't a grand hero of prophecy, she was just a girl, a young woman who was in over her head, but she took pride in the fact that she had been through so much with only minor injuries, her companions weren't hurt or sick, it was a quiet pride, because her mind had been too occupied with focusing on what was next, she didn't have time to worry about much else. That the cold she could feel coming on was actually a grave illness.
"Do you wanna talk about what happened down there?" Morrigan regretted bringing it up right away, the fire, the fire Cara shot out of her hands and killed a troll giant. She knew Cara had to be confused and terrified, of herself.
"I don't even know how to put it into words."
"You'd seriously never done that before?"
"Shot flames out of my hands? I think that's the kind of thing you'd remember."
Fair point, Morrigan had to admit, but it seemed like such an odd skill to just stumble upon. She liked Cara, in fact she hadn't met someone she connected with so easily since she was a very small child, but despite that, her obvious magical abilities made her slightly wary, she'd been sure Cara could be trusted, that her desire to join her on her quest to see her father again was strictly driven by curiosity and a simple want for adventure. She thought perhaps she could be working with the dragons, but, couldn't come up with a coherent way one would even get that job.
Cara was happy to find a distraction from the conversation, an entrance in the side of the mountain, dark beyond under rotted and crumbling wood.
"Must be our way in," She said nodding in the direction of it.
Morrigan coughed and nodded, she thought she saw something moving about in the dark but wrote it off as a trick of the mind brought on by malnutrition, less sleep than she was used to, possibly a fever.
--
His mind was elsewhere. He sat on the throne with a fist to his chin. There was somebody speaking to him but he was bored.
"I'm not asking for a large drop, just a drop," the Carriage Driver said. He seemed to do well enough at his job, well enough to pay for decent clothes, and he lacked the almost demonic look of desperation he'd seen for many years. Larian exhaled and tried to pay closer attention.
"You're a driver?"
"I used to be a trader, but I can't go to the Crystal Isles anymore because the exportation tax is so high! My Liege!"
Larian almost laughed when he added the "my Liege," bit.
"Yes, yes. You mentioned that. Remind me what the current percent is."
"It's 20 percent."
"Make it, eh, 10 for now, but there's no guarantee my father won't change it back when he reclaims his seat."
The Driver wasn't expecting results. His eyes went wide, he nodded repeatedly like he was in shock.
"Thank you, my King! My Liege! Thank you!"
He bowed before following the guards out. Larian yawned, hoping he was done for the day, then Ronson Caladin entered. Before either of them could speak, they heard horns, and Ronson went to investigate. The regent's eyes stayed on the door, awaiting who would enter. It seemed to last forever, the silence, because he was tired and wanted to sleep for a while. A man and a woman entered, both in heavy armor, escorted by Caladin. It took several deep breaths until they arrived, they removed their helmets. The woman introduced herself first, she was in her forties but Larian couldn't help but notice she was attractive, she woke him up.
"Nirani Fellaire, bow master from Creagach. It's an honor to be here, my Lord."
Lius Scathe was the man, he was big and brawny, Larian was intimidated by the sight of him and turned most of his attention to the woman.
"It appears my mother's plan is working so far," Larian said with a smile.
"It is a good plan, if the Capital falls, all else will. We must make a stand here," Nirani said confidently.
"Agreed, your mother has been very kind to Balirand, to Jarl Dorrel. Your father has been a stern but fair ruler. You deserve our help."
"What of Galtee's infantry?"
"I would expect Jarl Damos to lead his fighters here soon, Galtee is far and the conditions are harsh. It will take more time."
"Damos would ride himself?"
"His general, Trom Brachta deserted, we've been helping in the search for him but so far nothing," Lius said. Larian eased up in his presence, his voice was deep and commanding, the acting-king wanted to follow him, to listen to him.
"There was talk of an approaching blizzard in Galtee, if it strikes, that will complicate the passage of the catapults and spears."
"You have my thanks, Generals. I will make sure your people and you are well taken care of while you're here."
They smiled and bowed their heads again, Nirani kept talking, there was the faintest trace of redness in her cheeks.
"The throne suits you, Lord, if you don't mind me saying. What has it been like ruling?"
"My father once said he approached ruling with the diligence of a fox and the disposition of a dragon."
She laughed and smiled and nodded, "a wise man. But, that didn't answer the question."
Larian rose and stretched.
"I know."
He left the room without so much as a nod, Ronson tried to make up for his impoliteness by leading the two officers away, offering them things. Larian was too tired to care what they did.
--
The first shaft in the mine was broken and breaking. It hadn't been abandoned for long in the grand scheme of things, but it was older than all three of them. Erimon had sent countless expeditions to the mountain after defeating the dragons, it had always been dangerous work, when the miners departed they kissed their wives and children like they were going to war, and indeed many never came back. What exactly Erimon wanted was never specified, he had always thought there would be things there, considering the mountain had always been a popular home for creatures of many different races. After years of death while only turning up minor gems, Erimon finally agreed to abandon the place, but his interest never waned, before the dragon came, he was close to going back himself.
Snowflakes fell down from a circular sky, the sky was silver and blue. They didn't see the bucket come loose but they heard the crash, they stepped out of the way, to the walls and the bucket hit rock with a splitting crash. Morrigan eyed the vessel for a while to make sure it wasn't something that would come alive, then looked over at Cara who was just as startled. Her eyes went up to make sure nothing else was falling, and her gaze broadened.
"Morrigan."
Sandril looked up and barked, Morrigan looked up with a gulp of nervousness.
A smallish purple and gold dragon was resting on one of the platforms at the top, it was what had knocked the bucket loose and made it stir. It looked down and noticed the humans, and the much smaller beast, and then it flapped its wings, the snowflakes swirled in mid air, dust rose up from the planks, chunks of wood from pillars fell, and then the dragon took flight and flew to the east. Morrigan tried to steady herself, looking up had strained her neck, and when she straightened her body she found herself dizzy, Cara was perfectly fine to admit the big fire breathing beast was what had made her stumble with fear and Sandril was still barking.
The purple and gold dragon flew across the path thick with snow. It looked like a sand dune in the middle of the ocean, it could see the capital in the distance through the white mist. It didn't roar, the only sound that could be heard for miles was the flapping of wings.
At the mountain's peak stood a tall structure with ancient architecture, held up by cracked, stone pillars. The dragon slowed itself and flew into the gaping entrance. In the entrance hall the floors were cracked like the continued rows of pillars which held torches for light. The dragon walked the hall, it was older than it and it had a deep appreciation for the fact. At the end of the hall there was a massive window pane, mostly broken and stained with blood. It looked like it might have depicted something once and the purple and gold dragon had spent long hours trying to figure out how it would look in its restored form but did not have the aptitude for the task, so as it always did, it just left it as it was, and walked up the staircase leading into the dark under the pane.
Erimon was in a cage in a cave. He was a prisoner but he hadn't been tortured. There was a bucket in the cage and there were breadcrumbs near the lock, some had fallen outside, out of reach and there was drool on the floor where he'd fallen and eyeballed them. He heard stirring nearby and as he always did when he heard something he went to the bars with hope. In a room across from the cage, Erimon could see the purple and gold dragon, and it could hear the other three it was reporting to. Two of the voices were familiar, one very deep, one full of grace and beauty. The biggest was Lord Covac and he could shake the world with his words. His scales were silver and red, he was the one that had taken Erimon, it was the first time they'd seen each other in over four decades and they weren't remotely happy to see each other again. Maev, the dragon Queen, was purple and black with traces of silver. Covac called her Lord, and that was the ultimate sign of respect, and she called him by his name, because she knew he preferred it. Reav was there too. His scales were red and brown, and scarred, he was a survivor, and a commander because of it. One of his massive eyes was entirely yellow because he was blind in it. Mindin, the daughter of Covac and Maev was very young, Erimon did not remember her.
"Two young females. And a mongrel. They're close."
"Send me after them, my Lord," Reav said immediately.
"Two girls and a dog to fetch a King?" Maev ruminated.
"Did you pick up a trace of the others?" Covac rasped.
"Not on the path these three are taking, Father."
"Highly unlikely they would take the Dormid Caves."
"Could they be a delegation? Here to negotiate?" Mindin asked.
Covac let out a low growl that sounded like a cough as he thought. Maev spoke first. "Mindin, get a read on them. Don't kill them, just see if they can fight."
Mindin started out of the room. "Right away."
"It doesn't make sense, if they were trying to make peace they would send diplomats, not children."
"Go scout the capital. Stay in the clouds," Covac respired to Reav, the old commander bowed his head and left with Mindin.
"I don't want you doing anything that could jeopardize this," Maev began when they were alone, "Midir was foolish. This was his doing."
"He was still my son."
"And mine. We will not get or chance if you don't stay calm."
She left him to think, but she knew she had said something of value because of his silence.
Erimon hung his head, and thought of home.
--
The three reached the top of the mine shaft without seeing anymore dragons. Some of the old flooring broke apart right before where some was already gone when Morrigan tried to jump to the snow on the other side. Her heart skipped a beat as she slipped but grabbed onto the edge and pulled herself up, sweating from fever and anxiety.
Sandril looked up at Cara after seeing Morrigan's luck and whimpered.
"You're gonna have to jump," Cara assured him, just in case he was getting other ideas.
He looked at the gap, and Morrigan, then back at Cara and she swore he shook his head, he had no plans to jump.
"Jump," Cara said again, trying to make the motion with her arms.
Sandril did jump, into her arms. Cara accepted she would have to jump with him because he wasn't going alone.
"Fair enough," she said with a nod. She had to give him credit, she hadn't specified.
She backed up with Sandril to get a running start and darted across the platform and flew to the corridor of the exit on the other side where Morrigan hugged them both and pulled them over enough to knock her over. When they rose and brushed themselves off they marveled at the path before them. It led straight across the top of the mountain in very deep snow for miles and miles.
--
Galian's eyes opened and she was coughing and she felt like she couldn't move.
The cell the queen was in was very dark, she could only see the bars in front of her illuminated by torchlight on the opposing wall she couldn't reach. A guard walked by with a candle, she almost asked him for water because a thick crust had formed on her lips and her throat was burning but he walked past her before she could even utter a sound. The coughing picked up again and she wondered if her throat was burning just from thirst. Then she heard coughing from another, there was somebody else with her in there, or at least nearby. She searched the darkness, trying to pinpoint the location of who she hoped was Archymides. She said his name in a loud whisper. She finally felt someone, and knew it was him when her hand found his beard. She fell beside him and wept as he groaned in pain.
"This man needs medical attention!" It hurt to speak, but she remembered the yeti, remembered he'd almost fallen then and there.
She heard the strategist laugh and he clasped her hands.
"Watching you become strong, has been one of the great joys of my life. You're like a daughter to me, Galian, if you'll allow me to say such things, Queen."
"Don't start talking like that, I'm going to help you."
"You must, stay alive, your Grace." There was almost humor in his voice, or was it pride? Galian didn't know why he sounded anything other than desperate.
"Please! He's fading!" She announced to the darkness again.
He pulled her close, wanting her to pay attention because he wouldn't get the chance to speak again.
"You must survive," he said again, then added with his breath becoming hoarse, "you must survive. Get out of this place. Whatever the cost. If Erimon does not return, Larian will need your guidance."
He began to slouch, and then showed remorse. "I'm sorry, I failed you in the end."
She held him, hugged him tight. "No, it's not your fault we're here. All of them, they betrayed us. I can't believe I once called Petrice a friend. This is what they wanted, Petrice, Gab, they wanted us to come here, for this very reason."
Archymides could feel nothing then, but still he reached up and put a hand on her face and smiled. "Survive." She met his gaze until he was no longer looking at her, but past her. She knew he was gone, and there was an immediate weakness that came over her, but she didn't weep, she had to stay strong, for him, for Larian.
--
The riders from Galtee arrived in their white armor carrying their white spears. Theris rode at the head of the division and he looked at the Capital like he already owned it. He got to the steps as Larian stepped down from the last one to greet him. He waved his guardsmen off and smiled as Theris dismounted his horse. The soldiers from Creagach and Balirand were out too, the bows and swords on either side of him, forming rows. Theris removed a helmet and bowed before the regent.
"I have been hearing great things about your reign already."
Larian studied Galtee's ranks. He didn't see his Mother, didn't see Archymides.
"My Mother? And Archymides? Did they not return with you?"
Theris answered, sounding rehearsed.
"I suggested they stay until the end of the blizzard. We managed to get out just before it started."
Theris motioned to his men.
"This lot has been through a lot worse than just snow. They will be useful to you."
Larian looked around, he felt uncomfortable, closed in. He hadn't noticed the odd formation of his allies until an uncomfortable silence took hold. They were too still, like they were perfectly trained attack dogs.
"No problems getting here then?" Larian asked, he thought about trying to send a signal to the men he knew he could trust but didn't know how.
"Eh, we didn't run into any dragons if that's what you mean."
Larian turned to the castle and walked back towards it.
"Would you like to come in?"
And then his men were slaughtered. The archers and swordsmen charged up the stairs killing his guardsmen and soldiers. Some moved closer to the regent with arrows trained on him. He turned back to Damos, knowing it had been a trap all along, one that there wasn't an escape from. As his people were slaughtered behind him, Larian froze, there were spears approaching his front, bows and swords at his sides. Damos walked up to him, he was still smiling, but the smile meant something else.
"If it's any consolation this isn't remotely personal. You were just the one who happened to be stuck here at the wrong time. In over your head."
Damos drew a dagger and stabbed him in the gut. The Prince slouched forward with a guttural groan. Damos moved close to his ear.
"Blame your mother."
He drew in a sharp breath as the dagger was removed and he fell to his knees as the traitors marched past him.