The Star that swims beneath the tears.
Catch the one that floats afar,
And bind it with the Star that lands
Beneath the Seven Stars that dance.
“Do you know what it means?” Luke questioned.
“I can guess. It would help if Roelle was here,” Mark said. “She’s better at puzzles than I am.”
“Where is she?”
“The Inn, Mama’s Inn. I left her there.”
“Laister, send a man to find her. No rough stuff, tell her the King and Marcus request her presence and help with a riddle.”
“Yes, sire.” Once again, the guard trotted out to do his King’s bidding. Marcus studied Luke.
“Do they obey you so promptly because they fear you or like you?” He asked frankly.
“A bit of both,” he shrugged. “They’re waiting to see if I’m any better than my mother.”
“Are you?”
“You’re still alive and with both your hands, aren’t you, Marcus?” He pointed out.
“Oh yeah.” Both fell silent and Marcus went back to eating.
Chapter 23
Evraign was the first one to push open the rock wall into the cell corridor with a groan of grinding stone and dust that filtered through the feeble beams of the dungeon’s light. Roelle hastily pinched off the Wyche globe as they stood four feet from the open door of the condemned wing. Silently, they examined the cells, careful not to be seen by any of the occupants but surprisingly, they were all empty and had been for some time. Only one had seen recent use and had been newly renovated. Roelle cried out, a soft sibilant moan as she spotted fresh blood and Marcus’ shirt scraps.
“He was here,” she whispered. “Where would they take him to…?”
“There are no scaffolds left in the city. Nor an executioner’s block,” Evril denied.
“What do we do now? We can’t search the Palace for him. He could be anywhere, he could be dead,” Roelle stopped. They were completely unprepared for the sound of a man behind them clearing his throat.
“Roelle, I take it? Marcus said you would probably come looking for him. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to him.”
They saw a tall, older man dressed in physician’s robes and instinctively trusted the sincere face. He smiled. “He’s fine, he’s with the King. If you’ll just come this way.” He pointed out the door and down the hallway. With one drawn-in breath, Roelle exited first and the trio were escorted up from the dungeons to the Palace proper.
When Marcus saw Roelle, he leaped from the chair completely ignoring the King and everyone else. The two grappled each other, both in tears and babbling so fast no one could understand them. Not even themselves. Finally, when the tears had dwindled, Roelle heard him say that he loved her.
“Marcus,” she whispered. “I thought you were dead. Or worse, your head and hands chopped off!”
“Nope. Got them all, see?” He wiggled the named appendages. “Sire, this is Roelle Rouen, of Loest.”
She curtsied low before the man in faded blue jeans and T-shirt. Not surprised at his attire as both Random, Merlin and Corwin were given to the style. “Sire. But, Marcus–?” She looked up at the King as he introduced all of them to each other. Held a chair out for her at the desk where scrolls and documents were piled in a haphazard mess.
Evraign joined them adding to the pile and within minutes all of them were engaged in a lively debate over the meanings of the Star Riddle. Only Roelle stood apart, trying to analyze her feelings. When she had thought Marcus dead or dying, her whole heart had seized with no thought on whether Raven was alive, what he was doing or how he was faring. Her heart had broken when she contemplated the image of Marcus gone from her life or his broken body. She studied him and the warm glow that filled her as she saw his pale face, red hair and green eyes made her pulse skip. When she thought of Raven, she felt a cooler, calmer love as deep and as precious. But different. Somehow, what she’d felt for the Dragon Prince had changed. With renewed hope and vigor, she entered the conversation with the words that stopped the arguing in its tracks. “I know what it means. Or some of it, I think,” she said and they questioned her.
*****
The Garrison was in an uproar that morning. At first light, it was seen that the great Black Dragon was gone with only the body of a guard laying where he had been amid the tracks of a large pony and several other people. The chain that bound him to the rock was still there but smashed some three feet from its collar. Of the enchanted collar, there was no sign.
Jasra surveyed the scene, her lips thinned so that she looked anything but beautiful. “Someone helped him escape, someone with magic ability.”
“Can you track him, Jasra?” The Lord of the Garrison, Ryan asked.
“Anywhere in this Realm, Ryan,” she vowed.
“Where do we start looking?” Behind her, the massed ranks of men shifted nervously. An escaped Dragon not under her control worried them immensely. Many of those that had tormented him were frightened when they considered he might return to wreak vengeance.
“He’s too weak to have flown anywhere and no one has seen anything large enough to carry him off.”
“Is he still alive? Perhaps he died and his form went back to Amber,” Ryan suggested.
Jasra hesitated. “Perhaps.” She went inside herself, cast out her sense and tried to find the Dragon. Could not, could barely sense the aura of Amber that she had created in the Keep. It was fading and with it, the life essence that kept the Dragon spirit viable. “He’s no longer a threat or an asset,” she announced. “We’ll have to take on Luke and Random by ourselves.”
“Can we?” Ryan smiled crookedly.
“If I can find the power behind the spell that created him, I can,” she snapped. “First, we have to solve that damn riddle.” She turned on her heel and flipping her cloak over her head, transported herself to the Keep.
*****
With Corwin’s help and Murphy’s aerial reconnaissance, the small group managed to reach the face of the escarpment that sheltered Jax’s Keep. They had even succeeded in keeping all their members although something had eaten two of their horses. Murphy took up the slack carrying both Pire and the Captain as they had given up their mounts.
Strange hoots and whistles drifted down from the crags above them. The men huddled together in fear and the horses went crazy in terror and were hard to control. Murphy was the only one unaffected. Corwin asked the General what was known to frequent the mountains.
“The usual–great wolves, cave bear. Snow apes and ice giants,” he was told.
“Murphy, scout a way up and check it out. Captain, Sergeant, set up an early warning line so we know if were being watched. Be careful,” Corwin ordered as all three went to do the prince’s bidding.
Murphy’s flight up the sides of the cliff wall was swift and silent so he was able to observe the creatures making the strange noises. What he saw did not alarm him, after all he had fought demons and other unnatural creatures. And he was made of stone, a match for any living beasts. Still, the sight of these giant snow apes made him uneasy.
They saw him too and were puzzled at his lack of fear as he flew over them without concern. Leaping into the air, several attempted to catch him but a swift blow from his rock hard fist convinced the other creatures that it wasn’t a good idea as the corpse fell back to the crevices it had jumped from.
They communicated with each other in some fashion and seemed to have a rudimentary intelligence. The higher he flew, the more of them he counted until he reached the top of the parapet and the grim massive Keep.
It rose out of the mountains as if it was born from the primeval heaving outcrop of the very stone of the earth, as if it’d not been created by man but nature.
The inside was not empty, the gargoyle observed many servants but of the redheaded woman Corwin had described, he saw no trace.
Landing on the tower’s top, he hung from the roof ledge upside down and peered into the windows. He saw
the runes and sigils but being a magic creature from another Shadow Realm it had no effect on him so he was able to open the sealed glass and enter. Tucking his wings close to his body, he transformed to his human form and searched a large, rather impressive feminine retreat. Finding traces of the Dragon, he sniffed the air and caught the faintest whisper of the boy’s blue blood. Hesitated and spoke as he scented a human, “don’t move or I’ll hurt you.”
An old man dressed in healer’s robes slid from behind the window drapes and stood, his hands out and empty. “I won’t,” he said slowly. Curiosity got the better of him. “What are you?”
“A very pissed off man,” Murphy growled and his fangs lengthened.
“You’re no man,” the elder one stated.
“I am a gargoyle,” Murphy snarled and reverted to his imposing stone, winged seven foot monster with red eyes and fangs, gray skinned and leathery wings. “I am here for my master. Where is he?”
“Your master?”
“Don’t tempt me, old man,” Murphy hissed. “The Dragon. Where is he?”
“Dragon–Jasra has him,” he answered quickly. “She took him away.”
“Away where? Is he hurt? How does she control him?”
“He fell. North of here, fell out of the sky and broke many bones. Nearly died. Jasra and I healed him, kept him alive. He obeys her under the control of the Atarax pollen.”
“I should kill you,” Murphy started and the old man stood still.
“I can help you find him,” he offered and the gargoyle laughed derisively.
“We are bound. I will find him through all the Blood of Hells with or without your help. Because you saved his body, I won’t kill you but–if you are still here when I return, I will tear your limbs apart and throw them to the snow creatures that hunt the slopes below.” Murphy turned, leapt out the window and returned to the camp below.
Gregg poked another log into the fire, making the small blaze even larger so that their small cave was well lit as well as the forty feet out into the wood line where the trees thinned and the mountain began. Corwin had entered the cave with Grayswandir in his hand, made sure it was empty and held no surprises like backdoors, hidden passages or cave creatures. Murphy had scanned it for other traps both magical and mechanical. From the smell, they knew it had once been an animal lair but the cave was small, empty and safe. The gargoyle suggested that the presence of the creatures above had scared off or killed the former occupants.
The General twisted his lip. “Snow apes, probably. Jasra likes the beasts. She had a whole squad of them trained and ready to invade Amber.”
“Why are you here, General?” Murphy asked out of the darkness where he sat upon an outcropping of rock. All that could be seen of him were the piercing red of his eyes.
“Jasra and I were once…close. I defended her against the King and now, am no longer trusted. Our King sent me here to prove my loyalty or to die. In either case, he means to win back the Dragon.”
Chapter 24
The girl in the rags put me inside her bodice and I nestled against warm flesh that made my chill abate somewhat. The thump of her heartbeat calmed me down but the rush of blood beneath her skin made me faint with hunger. My stomach that had been so long without food was suddenly awake and growling.
“Hush, little one,” she said and kept walking. I wanted to stick my head out and see where we were going. Instead, I fell into that half sleep/almost coma that had been so close to death. I was content to die, now that I was no longer tethered to a rock gate in a prison.
*****
Hands on me. Poking, probing. Hot and cold fingers. Things that hurt. Stroking my throat and prying apart my lips. I tried to bite the fingers but I snapped my jaws on empty air and then, delicious warm meat juice was slowly dripped down my throat. Swallowing convulsively, I ate. Ate until my belly was so full it hurt yet the feeling dissipated after only a few seconds so that I craved more. It tasted like beef but more–as if imbued with the magic of the Unicorn.
I opened my eye and saw the two. An old man who was no longer old and the boy that was a girl. She was holding me in her hands wrapped in a cape and the warrior with her was feeding me through a cut-off straw. We three were inside a small cave from which stalactites hung and dripped water. The fire glittered off to the right marking a long tunnel.
I could hear the groaning of the earth and its breathing as the air whispered around us blowing eddies of smoke. Smoke wreathed her hair like a saint’s halo. He bore a resemblance to statues of saints I’d seen in Ireland.
“Awake are you, my Lord? I’ve been pushing this nasty concoction down your throat for days.”
“Days?” My voice was like a chipmunk’s. I was no longer the size of a finch but more like a falcon.
“You were nearly gone, Sir Dragon,” her voice was young, childish like a voice trembling on the brink of the change.
“Too long and too far away from Amber,” I sighed. All I wanted to do was fly home but I wasn’t sure if I could even lift my body into the air. I reached up to my neck and felt the confines of Jasra’s collar. Still there although the chain was missing. “Where are we? How did you get here? I remember eating a horse?”
“Yes. Poor Pansy. She gave her life to save a Prince. We’re in a cave near Scilla.”
“Scilla?” I vaguely remembered that name from a map Marcus and I had studied.
“It’s a bandit stronghold where the survivors from Secrest and Jasra’s war have congregated.”
“Who’s in charge?”
“General Imperious Legate,” she offered. “One of the few left from my father’s commanders. This is Commander Tegan, my bodyguard.”
“There’s a resistance?” I tried to sit up and observe my surroundings but she had to hold me upright.
The General or whatever snorted. “Some resistance. It’s a bunch of defeated peasants with pitchforks and big mouths. Not a warrior or a wizard amongst them.”
“What do you expect me to do?” I asked wearily. “I am bound to her will. I cannot harm her.”
“The antidote I gave you will lessen the effects of the Atarax pollen over time. You’ll feel better.”
“You don’t understand, the yellow stuff is not only in my blood but in my tissues. Besides, the longer I am away from Amber’s soil, the faster I will fade away.”
“Do you feel like you’re fading, Sir Dragon?” She smiled.
I took stock. Hesitated. In surprised fashion, answered, “Well, no. I feel sort of…okay.”
“We’ve been feeding you the antidote mixed in with meat and soil. Not just plain soil but the soil of Amber.”
“Amber’s soil? How did you get her soil here?”
“It is part of the Riddle of the Seven Stars,” she answered. “Part of a fallen star that one of my ancestors found and made into an amulet. It fell from the skies of Amber to this realm and created a huge water filled crater called the Lake of Fears. My great-great swam down to the very center of the lake to retrieve the glowing ball of rock that was the comet. Brought it up and made it into a cup. The bowl inside will fill with a fine-grained soil that can be used to heal a wound, seal a breach in a wall or explode when lit. I gave you the last cupful it produced.”
“Where’s this cup now?”
She pointed to my belly. “You ate it all. It disintegrated when you finished your last meal.”
“Is there enough room in here for me to transform?” I asked. I felt the urge to spread my wings and belch fire. I wanted to fight, destroy and wreak havoc on my enemies.
“It’s not a good idea in here or outside. Anyone sees you, we’ll be cornered,” he said. “If the former Queen finds you, she can take control of you again easily enough. You’re still bound to her unless she is killed or you surrender.”
“So, what do we do?” I asked again. “Can you get me home?” I stopped. “I need to find out if my friends are here and that they are okay.”
“Friends? Are there more of you?” Her eyes
widened the thought of more dragons.
I shook my head. “No, just me. One of a kind.”
“Linz, can you transform him into a donkey? We could get out of the area safely,” her bodyguard suggested.
“Maybe. The spell that makes him smaller can be tweaked to other creatures, I suppose. Would you be willing, my Lord Dragon?”
“Call me Raven. You can make me a monkey’s uncle if it gets me back home.”
She smiled and laughed. “I fear you would make an unappealing monkey, Sir Raven.”
I struggled and she put me on the cave floor where I pushed out of the cape to stand on all fours, extending my wings and stretching them. I blew tiny smoke rings and the campfire flickered in the passing of the air. The crystal spires that hung from the ceiling and grew from the floor glistened as if we were in a cave composed of diamonds, sending sparkles of all the colors of the spectrum dancing back and forth. It was a ballet almost like the northern lights and as beautiful.
I rested at their insistence, eating, sleeping to wake again and eat again. Each time, I felt stronger and more alert but I knew something was missing. I had an urging to fly back to Jasra, almost like a feeling of homesickness. I was ashamed of myself, it was almost a sick craving, a fascination in me that needed to be humiliated and tortured.
“No!” I shouted coming awake and startling the two. She was sewing some rags together and he was sharpening their weapons. Both were seated comfortably on a stone slab set across two broken stalagmites like a bench.
“What is it, Sir Dragon?” Lyndseye asked leaping to her feet.
“Bad dream,” I mumbled and stretched. The firelight bounced off my scales and made strange moving shadows on the crystals. I wanted out, I wanted to hunt and to fly. “How long are we going to skulk in this cave?” I bitched.
“Not much longer. I went out to back track and found some signs of his men searching near here. Eventually, they’ll find this cave,” he said.
I gasped. Fell over, my stomach churning, my bones and blood boiling. My heart skipped, started up sluggishly and then raced back to normal. He caught me in his hands and held up my neck. “What’s wrong, Sir Dragon?”
“Jasra just destroyed the last piece of Amber on this world!” I managed to say. I should have been obliterated by the act, yet I felt substantial, real, not a fading construct.