Draq flapped his red-tipped wings hard to crest the Haplorhini Mountain Range and enter the Kings Valley. It had been a long flight for the dragon with news of Santorray’s quest.
Diving into the valley, he soared past the thousand-foot tall Mountain King statue, its head and hands lying in the lake near the King’s feet. The statue and the mountain it was carved from stood in contrast to the rich greens of the surrounding trees and grass. The atmosphere was always spiritually uplifting.
Vapors from the warm mineral water of the lake filled Draq’s lungs as he flew just feet above its surface on the way to the carved city of Kingsfoot. The water had special properties that rejuvenated and healed. Just being in its presence caused one to feel fresh, calm, and clear headed.
Passing the docks, Draq approached the terraced open garden area preceding the city’s main entrance. A wide staircase connected each terrace from the base stone courtyard up to the carved city walls.
On the top terrace was a man sitting among the plants. His untidy mahogany hair flowed down past his shoulders and his once trimmed beard was now scruffy. The cloak he wore was weathered and half his face showed signs of a burn nearly healed.
Draq landed near the man, perching on the ledge of the terrace wall. “Darkmere and his son have witnessed Ericc’s sacrifice. Surod has been destroyed, therefore the prophecy has ended.”
The man sat in the dirt near the plant he was tending to. He was missing both feet and the fingers from one hand, but it did not prevent him from pulling the weeds and cutting off stressed branches. “Where is Ericc now?”
“He was not captured by Varacon. He has escaped.”
“Has Santorray located him yet?” the man questioned, never turning from his duties.
“He is in pursuit.”
“I see.” He dusted the rich soil off his hands. “I believe it is time I got to know my son again. Have Santorray bring him here once he has found Ericc.”
“Ambrosius, do think this is wise? You are not fully healed from Darkmere’s attack. What if they are followed by his minions or the dark lord himself?”
“As powerful as this lake is, the waters are slow at bringing back my limbs, but we cannot wait any longer. The hunt will start over again if Ericc is found to be alive.” Ambrosius stopped to ensure his work was complete as he recalled helping Fir Beltrow cover this very plant to protect it from a past harsh winter. “Besides, I have protected him long enough. It is time he stood at my side with pride instead of in hiding with fear and anger.”
“He will not be as warm to the idea as you may hope.”
“We have no choice. War is coming and we must prepare. Grab the wooden box next to my chair and bring it out to me.”
“Yes, my master.”
Draq had difficulty walking; his body simply wasn’t designed for it with his arms built into his wings and his back legs designed to perch and attack. Regardless, he still had all of his parts, unlike his friend Ambrosius, so he ventured into the city and collected the box.
Upon returning, Draq found his master sitting on a bench near the city’s entrance. “Here you are, my lord,” he said, setting it in his lap. “Is it wise that we rest so much on the shoulders of a Num without him even knowing we are depending on him?”
Ambrosius opened up the wooden coffer to find a pile of papers with notes and maps drawn on them. Scanning through the sheets, he pulled one out. “He can’t know. We must trust his judgment.”
They watched as the paper in his hand began to show new markings. It was filling in notes before their very eyes as though an invisible scribe sat with them.
“When did you realize Thorik had the other coffer?” Draq asked.
“I noticed it just before we reached Weirfortus. But it wasn’t until after my battle with Darkmere that I realized what it was.”
Draq leaned over to view the new writings. “If Thorik ever found out that the journals he places in his wooden box are recorded in the coffer’s twin, he would never trust you again.”
“It’s imperative that he doesn’t find out.”
“The Num trusts you and continues to mourn your death.”
“Which is exactly why he must not find out the truth.”
Chapter 42
Lucian’s Return