When Phellar, Nanda, Melliar tread the winds and sing their waking?
I would lift thee to the heights, Aidan, beloved, where the cold burning of the night meets the colors of the day fire.
Thy sorrowing lies heavy on my wings.
Of all beings in the universe, Roelan understood helplessness. He grieved with me as I shaped the words, of how the one I cared for most in the world, the one who had opened the way for me to wake him, was taken into captivity very like that he had known.
Cruel is the hand that harms the one who completes thy being.
Tell us how to unbind her.
If ought of my working might free her from this harm, but speak the word to set my course.
I was humbled and overwhelmed with his offer. But there was nothing to be done. The clan would be waiting with bloodstones, dragon whips, and poison-tipped spears for just such a move. I could not ask it. And even if they could not harm Roelan, they would kill Lara. I shared Roelan’s rejoicing that more of his brothers and sisters flew free, and soon afterward his vision faded into the light of Mervil’s hearth fire and the untidy mess of the tailor shop.
The Elhim were silent, staring at me and at Narim’s journal that had fallen from my hand, its pages intact, but its leather cover brown and curled, a wisp of stinking smoke rising from it. They were bursting with unspoken questions, but I could form no human words to tell what I had seen and heard, so I just shook my head. I was desperate for sleep. They led me to a pallet on the floor. My sleep was plagued with dreams of Goryx, licking his lips and blinking his bright eyes as he was given Lara.
The house was dark and silent. I was perishingly thirsty and sat up on the pallet rubbing my head until I could think where I was and where I might find something to drink. Waking and sense were accompanied by a dream-wrought conviction that I must be on my way with the daylight to find Devlin and warn him. Only he among all the kings and princes in Elyria and her neighboring kingdoms had the strength and resources to hold order once the dragons were free. And that would be the case only if he were ready. I had to make him listen and understand what was coming, lest the havoc I had wrought come down too hard on the people who had least to do with it—the very ones who had suffered most from the savage dragon wars. Once the news spread throughout the land, the wars of vengeance would begin. Once the word spread outside our borders, the wild men would come.
And another idea had emerged from my dreaming. If I gave Devlin warning, he might be grateful enough to help me. ...
Someone had kindly removed my boots, so I moved silently through the house. I could not stomach the thought of wine or ale, and thought to go out to the cider barrel Mervil kept cool in a shed near the stable. But the door to the stableyard was jammed or locked. I could find no way to get it open without creating a commotion. Too parched to be discouraged, I padded through the tailor’s workroom to the newly rebuilt front door, only to find Davyn sitting propped against it, reading Narim’s scorched journal in the light of a single candle.
“Learning anything interesting?” I said quietly. I had no idea where Mervil’s helpful friends might be sleeping.
Davyn started and whipped the book behind him, peering into the midnight to see who I was. “Aidan!” He dropped his voice immediately. “Are you all right? What are you doing awake?” I assumed it was his possession of the private journal that gave him such an aura of guilt ... or perhaps knowledge of the journal’s secrets.
“I was considering going out,” I said. “But the back door is jammed.”
“Go where? It’s the middle of the night.”
“Does it matter?”
“You shouldn’t—I wouldn’t—Of course it matters.” His voice limped off like a lame dog. “You can’t.”
“What do you mean I can’t?”
Davyn glanced about, then pressed his finger to his lips and motioned me to the floor beside him. Exquisitely nervous, I sat down. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Not at all.” His slender forefinger tapped rapidly on the journal.
I waited, thinking I’d get a clearer answer once Davyn had settled whatever argument he was waging with himself.
“Narim’s come. While you were asleep.”
“Ah.” I settled back against a mountain of rolls of cloth. “And Narim doesn’t want me out getting a drink of cider?”
“Cider? Oh.” Davyn rubbed his gray eyes and shook his head. “When Narim got word that you and Lara were making the attempt, he’d already been awake for more than a day. Then he rode fourteen hours straight to get here. He had to sleep, but he wanted to make sure you didn’t leave the house before he talked to you.” The Elhim ran his slender fingers through his blond curls, clearly troubled. “I thought nothing of it. But then he sent Mervil, Tarwyl, and Jaque to another house, and wanted me to go with them. I said I’d rather stay here in case you needed me. He agreed, but certainly wasn’t happy about it. Then I saw him remove the keys from the rear door and bar the windows. There’s no one here save him and you and me. But Rorick and Kells are watching the street. Watching for you ...”
“And these things bother you?” They certainly bothered me.
“Narim has been my dearest friend since I was young—two hundred years, Aidan. He is everything of goodness. Devotion. Friendship. Honor. Whatever of decency you see in me, he has nurtured. He—”
“I disagree.”
The lock of blond hair hung over gray eyes filled with distress, but not shock. “So you read this?” He turned the journal over in his hands and stared at it as if it were a poisonous spider.
“Only enough to know who murdered my friends and stole my life.”
“I didn’t know, Aidan. On the name of the One I’ll swear, neither Tarwyl nor Mervil nor I—”
“I never thought it. So what bothers Narim now? I’ve done what he wanted. The dragons fly free.”
“When Narim arrived, we told him everything you’d said and about the changes we saw in you. Though I knew he’d be heartsick about Lara, I thought he would take satisfaction in your accomplishment. But he was frantic when he heard that you weren’t in control of the dragons and sending them on to the lake. He’s afraid, Aidan. He believes they’re going to destroy the Elhim.”
“They won’t.”
“He says he can’t be sure until they go to the lake and drink the water, so he can talk to them himself.”
“They’ll go to the lake when it’s time, and they’ll speak when they’re ready, and maybe humans and Elhim will be able to understand their words and maybe we won’t, but killing intelligent beings is the last thing they want. They despise it. They don’t understand it. They never have.”
Davyn frowned and fluttered the pages of the journal nervously. “Maybe you can convince him.” He didn’t sound confident. “He wants you to go to the lake with him and make the dragons come there. That’s why he didn’t want you to leave. He’s crazed with it. I’ve never seen him like this.”
“He’s got to understand that I can’t force them to do anything. But he doesn’t need to worry. If Roelan speaks to me again, I’ll find out if they’re coming to the lake. And I’ll come myself. Willingly. Just not yet. I’ve some things to do first. Critical things ...”
The Elhim looked up curiously. “What things?”
I told him of my certainty that I had to warn Devlin, and of the fragile possibility that had emerged from the consideration. I hoped to persuade my cousin to save Lara.
The Ridemark produced powerful warriors, but without their dragons they would be no match for Devlin or any of his stronger allies. If the clansmen were to survive, they would have to seek an alliance, and from that need might come the leverage to pry Lara from their hands. MacEachern would never turn Lara over to the Elhim, and his hatred would allow no accommodation with me, but he might exchange her for Devlin’s protection.