Dragon Blood h-2 Page 28

  Hurog blood had given the Bane to Jade Eyes's control. I'd rested the fingers of my right hand on the bloody lump rising on the back of Oreg's head. True dragon's blood, or nearer to it than mine.

  Red heat seared my flesh, empty blackness struck me deaf and dumb, and cool blue power touched my skin with ice. Blue for tears, I thought. I couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't hear but for the sound of dragon breath in my ears. Blindly I raised my right hand and felt for the gem. I couldn't feel the staff or the Bane against my fingers, but the cold gem glowed with a wealth of power and I covered it with my hand.

  One moment I struggled against the Bane and the next the rush of power was gone. I gulped in air, and my sight returned as if it had never left me.

  The gemstone in the mouth of the bronze dragon glowed with cool purple-blue light. I neither felt nor saw either the heavy blackness of the trapped revenants or the red magic that answered to the master of the Bane.

  I leaned against the staff, which was the only thing holding me up.

  I couldn't sense any magic except for the slight pulse that made the gem glow, illuminating the tent with blueish light. I was too tired to probe the nature of the magic that caused the luminescence, but light could easily have been the result of leftover magic when Farson's spells were released. Blood and tears, I thought, remembering Oreg's belief that the magic could break free.

  Oreg had made me kill him to break the spell that bound him to Hurog. It did not seem at all strange to me that those dragon spirits bound to the Bane would be willing to make an equal sacrifice.

  There would be time to analyze later. Now there was a battle going on outside the tent—and as soon as I could stand on my own, I needed to get out and help. But even as the thought came to me, I realized that although there was quite a bit of noise, the familiar sound of battle had disappeared sometime while I'd been struggling with Jade Eyes and the Bane.

  Jade Eyes.

  I started to kneel down and check the mage, but just then he rolled off Oreg. I worried for a moment, because in my current condition a kitten could have knocked me over, but he lay limply on the floor, and Oreg sat up.

  Oreg looked around, a hand to his head. He glanced at the Bane, let his gaze linger on Jade Eyes, and said, "Missed all the fun, did I? I can't believe I let him take me from behind."

  "No more can I," I agreed, still propped up by the staff. "We need to see what's going on out there." I gestured vaguely toward the entrance flap. "But first, I think we ought to make certain Jade Eyes doesn't do anything we'll regret when he wakes up. There has to be a rope of some kind around here. Since I'm a little under the weather—not having slept through the excitement like some here—that leaves you."

  "Jade Eyes?" said Oreg thoughtfully. His right hand moved, drawing the knife in his belt and bringing it across Jade Eyes's throat before I choked out a belated "Stop."

  Oreg came to his feet, narrowing his eyes at me—or maybe against the pain of his head injury. "I've heard your nightmares," he said. "I'll not suffer him to live—I gave him a more merciful end than he deserved." To change the subject, he pointed at the Bane. "What are you going to do with that?"

  "I want nothing to do with it," I said, rather firmly for someone who would have fallen but for my grip on the Farsonsbane staff.

  "Wait until they come out," said Haverness's voice clearly from outside the tent. "You don't want to interrupt wizards."

  Oreg and I exchanged glances. However our party had fared, it seemed that we had unexpected reinforcements.

  Letting the staff take some of my weight, I ducked back out of the tent. A faint trace of light in the east told me that time had passed while I fought the Bane. In the darkness of the early morning, the gem glowed like a fistful of dwarven stones, and in that light I saw that Haverness had brought a small army with him.

  I looked around for Tisala, but I saw Kellen first. Facing Oreg and me, at a sword's-length distance, Kellen stood with his blade drawn, Rosem at his right. Haverness waited behind him, and I finally found Tisala at his side, battered but intact. The rest of the people were hidden by the darkness, but there were a lot of them. In fact, as I looked around, I could see that they surrounded the tent.

  They must have been waiting half the night for the outcome of the battle in Jakoven's tent. The sight of Oreg and me didn't seem to reassure Kellen. I wondered what results he'd hoped for.

  "Sire," I said, not bowing because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stand up again. "I didn't expect you here."

  "Yes," he said. "I rather thought we'd surprise you. It was Garranon who tipped the scales—did you really expect me to believe that he'd go hunting after the attack on Buril?"

  "No." I shook my head. "But we needed enough of a head start to catch Jakoven before he became aware of you. We had to take him by surprise before he could use the Bane."

  I tipped my head to the staff and swayed a little with the motion.

  "Did you?" asked Kellen softly. "Or did you see the chance for power and take it?"

  "Kellen's worried that Jakoven's downfall might be a good time for old traditions to reassert themselves," said Haverness, his voice carefully neutral. "The Hurogs are the last of the royal line of Shavig."

  I was too exhausted to deal with stupid suspicions, especially, as usual when I was tired, when talking was difficult. I tried to gather my thoughts and had to grip the staff harder to stay on my feet.

  "Ward?" Tisala's voice drew my gaze, and I saw her more clearly. Part of me noted uneasily that the light of the gem had followed my gaze without my bidding, but the rest of me was focused on Tisala. I straightened abruptly, anger stiffening my spine. The battering, I realized, had probably come from Jakoven's men, but her hands were bound and she was obviously a prisoner.

  I looked back at Kellen, who said quietly, "Is that the Bane, Ward?" His eyes were trying to convey a message to me, but I was too tired and angry to work it out.

  "It's not Kellen who doubts you," said my uncle, and I saw that he was here, too. "But when we realized where you were going, a number of the Oranstonian lords who knew your father expressed their doubts. In your place, he would have taken the Bane and used it to gain the throne—and they don't know you."

  His words bounced off the rising tide of my wrath, which grew apace when I noticed that he was bound as well.

  I waved my hand, drawing on the power of the staff ("What power?" asked a small, rational part of me, buried beneath the roil of anger) and the ropes fell from Tisala's wrists. "Tosten, Axiel, Garranon," I said in a voice I hardly recognized.

  "Here, Ward," said Garranon behind me. "I'm fine."

  "And I," said Axiel.

  Tosten said, "Nothing wrong with me that won't mend. Have a care, Ward. Keep your head."

  I didn't even have to look at them to release their bonds as well as Duraugh's. The magic of the staff filled me up and powered my finding sense until I could have identified every man in the camp, though I'd never seen most of them before.

  "Why are my people bound?" I asked gently. "They've done nothing wrong. With this" — I shook the staff—"Jakoven could have leveled a battlefield. Stealth was the only way. So these people risked their lives for you and you make prisoners of them?"

  When Tisala came to me, no one tried to stop her. "My love," she said, as if she'd always called me that. "Ward, listen to me. No one was hurt. Farrawell and a few of his ilk believe that claiming the Bane was your purpose from the beginning. There are enough of them here who agree that Kellen had no choice but to confront you."

  I listened to her, but I kept my eyes on Kellen. She might say he had no choice, but I knew better. The power that filled me quivered in rage at the thought. And it told me exactly what I could do about Kellen and the Oranstonians who put my people in bonds.

  "Ward," said Oreg clearly. "Your eyes are glowing Hurog-blue—like the staff."

  I turned to the dragon-mage and the awareness that was a part of the Bane's magic knew him as dragon. It c
almed at his presence, giving me space to understand what he'd said. And as it faded, the urge to destroy Farrawell and Kellen ebbed. But it wasn't gone, just concealed as it had concealed itself from me before.

  I took a deep, if shaky breath. "Siphern save me," I whispered. "I thought it was gone." But the Bane had only hidden, waiting to infect me with its ravaging madness.

  I knew then that Jade Eyes had been both correct and wrong. Blood and tears had indeed freed the Bane, freed it of any control. Knew moreover what it intended to do, because destruction was all it understood: The Bane was a far more capable Death-Bringer than my little brother's fat gelding.

  "Oreg, aid me," I said, but the Bane read my intentions before I could say anything and launched an attack—not at me, but at Tisala, who held my arm and had no protection against magic.

  I threw up a warding around the bronze dragon head even as I pushed Tisala away from me. But the Bane had been storing power for a long time and was sated on dragon's blood. My safeguard wavered, and Tisala collapsed to the ground.

  Oreg's hands closed on my shoulders and the barrier stabilized, holding the Bane momentarily.

  It gave me time to say, "Away from us. Get back, it's loosed."

  Kellen gestured sharply and the people who'd been crowded around us stepped back to the trees. Haverness, though, came forward and picked up Tisala. She moaned as he carried her away and I knew a moment's relief that the Bane hadn't killed her.

  Then the Bane began struggling again and I had to turn my concentration elsewhere.

  "What do we do?" I asked as I strengthened the warding. "We can't just continue to contain it."

  "You were right," Oreg said, "it is connected to you. You understand it best—I'll loan you my strength to do what you can."

  "I think I could bind it again," I said.

  As if the Bane understood, it redoubled its attack on our barrier. Slowly I gave control of the warding to Oreg, to free my weaving for a more permanent solution.

  "If you can," replied Oreg.

  I knew one binding spell that would hold the Bane as it had tied Oreg to Hurog—a slave to the whims of the Hurogmeten. I drew my knife with my free hand and awkwardly cut myself without losing my hold on the staff, because that spell began with a sacrifice of blood.

  Dragons' voices wailed in pleading terror as I began the spell and they made me hesitate. How could I do this?

  The question stalled me further. It had been Oreg's father binding his son to Hurog that had tainted the world with his evil act and my destruction of that binding had begun healing the earth. If I bound these creatures, revenant though they were, would it compound the evil that Farson had started?

  As I struggled inwardly, the Bane struck the warding with sudden immense power—as like its previous struggles as an acorn is to a hundred-year oak. Its energies burned through Oreg's weaving as if he were not an ancient dragon, but his strength slowed it enough that I could catch the fraying edges of the warding and hold it together.

  But I could feel the Bane regathering its magic for another attempt. It had burnt out Oreg's magic; he wouldn't be able to work magic for hours. That left only me.

  The Bane hit my barrier again. I howled in agony and writhed as I sent magic into the warding until I had none left. I searched frantically for more, because if I did not stop it, the Bane would destroy everything and everyone that I loved.

  If I hadn't come, Jade Eyes would never have gotten his hands on the Bane. I could feel the patterns of possibilities woven into the gem, where spells once had bound, and knew that Jade Eyes had been right. Without my tears, the bindings would have held for centuries longer. But magic is made more effective through the use of sympathetic intention and symbolism; doors are easier to break open with magic than walls because doors are meant to open and walls to stand firm. The tears and blood of the guardian of dragons made a sharp knife to cut through spells imprisoning dragons.

  Haverness had brought his mage and I sucked him dry of power. He didn't fight me, but his magic was a drop compared to Oreg's ocean and neither was adequate, so I cast my net further afield.

  Nothing.

  I screamed a second time, not just from pain, but from effort and frustration. My hold slipped and I felt the Bane's triumph.

  "At last to be free, to burn and consume until there is nothing left."

  Then I felt it. Hurog. Over five hundred miles away, the magic of Hurog heard my call and came to me when I couldn't reach it. A thin, cool stream of power spilled over the warding, taking the governance of the spell gently from my hands. Hurog touched me and read my desire to neutralize the Bane.

  The ward dissolved, replaced by Hurog magic that engulfed the Bane and cleaned it of taint and anger. Dragon magic absorbed the Bane and left me except for a silk-fine thread, connecting me to my home.

  A pea-sized stone the color of obsidian glass fell out of the staff to land on a flattish rock. Almost absently I crushed it with the butt-end of the staff and the little stone dissolved into powder, drifting away when a stray breeze swept through the clearing.

  I cleared my throat and looked up to meet Kellen's grim face.

  "I'm sorry, sire," I said to him. "It seems the Bane was more dangerous than I thought." Letting the staff slip through my grip, I knelt before him and bowed my head. "Let all here bear witness that the dragons of Hurog do follow Kellen Tallven, High King of the Five Kingdoms."

  The world tilted oddly and someone cried out; I think it was my brother.

  "Idiot," muttered Oreg to me as he and Kellen hauled me to my feet. "Have you forgotten what I've told you about destroying magical items? You're lucky you didn't kill everyone here when you broke the gem."

  Garranon was somehow there, stitching up my belly with thread and needle. "I thought you had this stopped," he said.

  I was puzzled for a minute at the abrupt shift of scene, then realized somewhat muzzily that I must have passed out, because I was sitting, braced against a tree, and the camp was lit with morning sun instead of blue gemstone.

  "Still prisoners?" I asked.

  "No," said Tisala acidly. "You proved to everyone's satisfaction that you had no intention of keeping the Bane's power for yourself. Kellen declared you a hero, and, after the impressive fire and spark show you put on, no one decided to argue with him. Next time, I'd appreciate it if you'd only face one deadly foe at a time. A paranoid king or two, evil sorcerers, an ancient evil artifact—fine. But not all at once. It makes it hard to defend you."

  I realized that the slender tree that kept me upright was Tisala, herself. It was her knee that pressed so uncomfortably against a bruise on my back, but I was too tired to shift away. It was worth the small hurt to know that she was safe. Garranon distracted me from the bruise when he took another stitch.

  "And you didn't even kill anyone," said Oreg, then added, "at least none of our allies." I saw that he was lying next to me with his eyes shut tight against the light.

  "Are you all right, Oreg?"

  "Damn it, quit wiggling," snapped Garranon. "Unless you want a few more pinholes to add to your wounds."

  "Just a headache," said Oreg when Garranon had finished speaking. "Axiel tells me I'll feel like living again in a week or so—about the same time I'll have enough magic to light a candle. Tosten's in one of the tents with Axiel, who has a nasty cut on his thigh that someone stitched up."

  "My father," supplied Tisala from behind me. "He also sewed up Tosten's back. He—my father, not Tosten—says both Axiel and Tosten will mend. He says you are suffering from blood loss, as well as whatever damage your battle with the Bane did, but if you haven't died yet, you are unlikely to at this point. Unless, of course, one of your wounds gets infected." It didn't sound as if it would bother her.

  "Speaking of death," said Oreg, "have I mentioned that I'm unhappy with you? Destroying something as powerful as the Bane's gemstone could have left a new valley where these mountains stand."

  Garranon's steady progress across my sor
e abdomen paused and then resumed.

  "I thought of that," I said, relaxing against Tisala. "But the magic was gone, eaten by the dragons of Hurog."

  "What do you mean?" Kellen rounded Oreg's splayed body and crouched behind Garranon.

  "You're in my light," growled Garranon, and Kellen moved obligingly to my left.

  "What do you mean eaten by Hurog?" asked Kellen again.

  "Magic," I said, "is a strange thing."

  Tisala laughed against the back of my neck. "Most people think so," she said.

  "Most wizards think it's like the wind or the rain," I said. "An uncaring force of nature. And for the most part they're right. But I've been places where that wasn't true. Where the magic is as alive as the trees here, or more so. Menogue is one of them," I told Kellen. "It is as alive as you or I." I hissed as Garranon stuck his needle into a particularly tender spot.

  "I could sear it, instead," he offered.

  "No," I replied hastily. "Go ahead. Just caught me by surprise."

  "The Bane was somewhat more perplexing," I said. "I think the spirits of the dragons were tied into the original spell. Jade Eyes … " I paused.

  "Yes," said Kellen. "We found his body in Jakoven's tent. Oreg told us he managed to get the Bane before you did."

  "Jade Eyes was insane," I said. "He'd been talking to the spirits and they told him how to free them. He thought they'd turn back into dragons. But they were just ravening spirits, not dragons any longer, and only the binding spells kept them from destroying everything. I thought I stopped it, but I was too late. If it hadn't been for Hurog, they'd have killed us all."

  The wound across my stomach was deeper than I'd realized, forcing Garranon to stitch up muscle first, then skin. I looked away and continued talking to distract myself. "Hurog is alive, too. When I sought for more magic to hold the Bane, it came and … ate the Bane. That's what dragons do with their dead, you know."

  "No, I didn't know that. Ward … " Kellen began.

  I could hear the apology in his voice and waved my hand in dismissal. "If you trusted every barbarian Shavigman who happened upon your way, you wouldn't be much of a king," I said. "However, I hope you don't expect me to destroy ancient artifacts to prove my loyalty on a regular basis."