Dark Hope of the Dragons Read online

  The dream should not torment her so, but there was something in that empty darkness that terrified her. Dephithus was dead. She had killed him with her own hands; she just wished he would stay that way when she fell asleep.

  Myara spoke his name in her sleep, which Amahna suspected might be the catalyst of her own relentless dreams. Sometimes the girl would call Dephithus with longing, other times her voice would crack with fear and she would thrash as though trying to escape something. It had taken very few nights of the latter for Amahna to decide that Dephithus must have acted out their cruelty to him upon his beloved Myara. Undoubtedly, this was not what the dragons had in mind for the conception of their savior. It was very likely that his love for Myara, the very thing that kept him from fleeing Imperious, was also what had driven him to succumb so completely to the influence of the daenox. When they fought, it was plain that Dephithus was no longer in control of himself and had given in to the daemon power that thrived off his destruction.

  When the mouth of the cave revealed itself before them at the end of their journey, the daenox that hid it responding to her nearness, Amahna dismounted and watched her companion for some reaction. Myara, however, stared straight at the cave while not seeming to see it, as had been the case with most everything her haunted gaze fell upon toward the end of their journey. To see the person you loved turn bad, to watch them slaughter someone you considered a friend before your eyes would be hard enough. To be subsequently raped by that person and kidnapped by his aunt was probably more than anyone could be expected to handle. The whole series of events was delightfully horrible. Getting to confirm that Dephithus was dead was simply a nice bonus to make it worse, but Myara had apparently been too devastated already to have much of a reaction to the news.

  Myara dismounted when Amahna told her to and walked up to the cave with her, responding like a creature in a trance. Amahna watched her for several seconds then she let her curiosity tempt her. Would the girl respond to anything at this point?

  “We have reached the end of our journey, my dear. Your death waits in these dark passages.”

  Though her expression did not change, Myara’s gaze focused on the blackness that dared them to enter. Apparently unconcerned with the lack of lighting, she started into the cave. Amahna walked in as well, keeping close to the girl and creating the necessary light to traverse this very dangerous section of the cave. Though she manipulated the daenox to make them visible, Myara did not move to go around the first of the deep pits that blocked their path. If Amahna had not taken hold of her arm at the last moment she did not doubt that the girl would have stepped off the edge. Taking firm hold of Myara’s arm, Amahna guided her safely past the remaining pits. If she believed the girl would scream dramatically she might have been tempted to let her fall, but she suspected there would not be a sound until she hit the bottom.

  “Who is she?”

  It took Amahna a moment to place the voice. Never before had she heard such a bitter tone from Kara. The village girl stepped into view, her skin pallid and drawn tight over her bones. She looked nervous and very afraid, and the way she eyed Myara could be described as nothing less than jealous hatred. Theruses had plainly used her and he had not been kind. Now, her illusion of their glamourous world shattered, she appeared to think Amahna had replaced her.

  “The girl is a gift for Theruses.” As she spoke Amahna twisted Myara’s arm for leverage and forced her to sit on the cold stone floor. She did not try to fight it.

  Kara stared at Myara for a moment, mouthing Amahna’s words several times over. Then she smiled. It was a sickly expression that drew a touch of pity and possessive anger to the surface. Amahna opened her arms and Kara ran into them burying her face against her master’s breasts as she began to sob. Theruses would grant her exclusive rights to Kara after he saw what she had brought him. He would not use her pet again.

  Amahna stroked Kara’s hair and murmured to her. “I am sorry I left you, my sweet one. I would have taken you with me had I been given the choice.” Kara continued to weep, and Myara watched them more intently now as Amahna lowered herself and her attendant to sit on the floor. Forcing Kara to arm’s length she looked deep into those dark tear-filled eyes. “You know I would have taken you.”

  Kara nodded and wiped at a fresh tear on her cheek. She glanced around then. “Rakas didn’t return? Is he dead?” she asked around a sniffle.

  Amahna smiled. There were many reasons to rejoice after this journey. No more Rakas. No more Dephithus. No more threat from the dragons. “He is dead to us, child. Go now. Wait in my chamber for me. I must take this girl to Theruses.”

  Kara really looked at Myara this time, giving her a brief once over before gazing directly into those haunted eyes. To Amahna’s surprise, Kara leaned forward and touched Myara’s cheek with gentle fingertips.

  “Be grateful you are already gone,” she murmured. “Theruses can do you no harm.”

  Kara kissed Myara on the forehead then turned back to Amahna and kissed her softly on the lips before departing.

  Amahna watched her go, then she looked at Myara again and wondered if Kara was right. Was the girl too far gone for Theruses to harm?

  Taking hold of the girl’s arm, she stood and led her deeper into the cave. They did not get far before a new, far more powerful presence joined them. Theruses appeared before them, his tail swishing methodically, revealing nothing of his present temper to help her navigate their reunion. Myara stiffened slightly when he reached out to her with his sharp-clawed fingertips. He touched Myara’s slender neck then pulled abruptly back, his gaze sinking to her abdomen.

  “She is with child,” Amahna confirmed.

  “Another dragon-child?”

  “Yes,” Amahna replied, eager to show off her success. “This child will be much stronger. It carries the power passed down from Dephithus as well as that placed in it by the dragons upon its conception. This is the child the dragons have been waiting for. I brought the mother here so that you might be the one to destroy the dragons’ hopes and kill the child.”

  Somewhere during the brief exchange Myara had rejoined them. Her hands went to her abdomen, covering it protectively. Her gaze riveted upon Theruses with open fear.

  “I’m pregnant.” Disbelief was plain in her face. At Amahna’s brusque nod, she leaned back from them and lifted her chin in a puzzling display of defiance. “Then you did not kill Dephithus. He lives on in me.”

  Amahna snarled and stepped closer to Myara, her hand dropping to the serpent dagger. “That can be corrected.”

  Theruses grabbed her arm, his claws digging into her flesh. “This child will not die today. I want it born here, in the caves.”

  “No, not here.” Myara’s protest drew his attention back to her and she shrunk away from his cruel black eyes.

  Theruses lifted her from the floor with the daenox so that he would not have to inconvenience himself with looking down at her and, without a doubt, to try and intimidate her into behaving. His molten black eyes bored into hers. “You belong to me now, as does your unborn child.”

  Myara trembled, though defiance remained in the stubborn set of her jaw.

  Amahna yearned to demand an explanation, but it was not her place to demand. Instead, she sank to her knees, trying to keep her confusion and irritation hidden behind a show of reverence.

  What reason could he have for wanting the child alive? There was no sensible motive she could think of for letting the child be born and risking the chance of the dragons going free. No matter what it took, she meant to find out why he would make such a choice. There was something more going on.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  Cries of anguish echoed through the passages. Between the cries, the loudest sound was that of water dripping inexorably—eternally—forming new cave with its perpetual movement. In the chamber, there was ragged breathing and murmured words of encouragement from Kara, who had helped bring a child into the world before. Kara brushed Myara’s hair back fr
om her forehead. She let the young woman grip her hand so tight Amahna knew it had to hurt, but she did not pull away. The world felt strange as though time outside this chamber had stopped. Dread filled Amahna, squirming through her gut and lifting the hairs on the back of her neck. Beside her, Theruses stood perfectly still, a statue, watching the struggle to bring forth new life.

  Myara cried out again, tears leaking from eyes squeezed shut against the pain. Or perhaps she closed her eyes so she would not see the dark, damp chamber that was her prison. It would be her child’s prison as well. Were the tears from physical pain or from the suffering the child would be brought into. Would Theruses kill the child? End the hope of the dragons the moment it drew breath? Or would he wait a while and observe the curious creature the dragons had made with their meddling.

  When the creature finally came, there was much blood and other fluid that came with it. The cave itself trembled then was still. The infant drew in a breath and Amahna braced for the squalling. It was quiet though, as Kara cut the cord and cleaned the child. Then she handed the baby to Myara.

  “It’s a girl.”

  Myara took the child in shaking arms and gazed down at her. “A girl,” she murmured. She held the tiny human close to her chest. “I will call you Raine for the tears that fell the day you were created and the water that falls here where you were born. One day, you will be free of this place and the world will learn to love you. Until then, know that I love you and that you were conceived in love.”

  Theruses remained statue still and Amahna stepped back into the shadows, shocked by Myara’s words. Could it be that Dephithus had not raped the young woman? It was hard to believe, but there was something sincere in Myara’s voice when she spoke those words.

  Disconcerted, Amahna strode swiftly from the room. The child’s silence followed her through the cave.

  *

  The child had come earlier than expected.

  Theruses sent Amahna away a few months after Myara’s daughter was born. Kara was put in charge of seeing to the essential needs of mother and child, and Amahna was given a more dignified task, for which she was grateful. In the months that had passed since her return to the caves, the daenox had begun to make its presence known more throughout the land. Daemons were wreaking havoc in many villages and towns and driving terror into the hearts of those who lived outside of the cities. Now rumors had come to the cave of some young upstart who was building an army of daemons.

  Theruses did not seemed concerned. In fact, he appeared to have interest in little other than the abomination recently born in their midst, but he sent Amahna to investigate as much to get a break from her constant questions about the child, she suspected, as anything. When given her choice of companions for her journey, she opted to go alone. They had already come to an agreement about her exclusive rights to Kara, so the girl would be safe enough tending to Myara and the child without her. Since she had never traveled from the caves with anyone other than Rakas, she saw no reason to change that now.

  It was disappointing, once she emerged from the caves, to discover how many rumors and bits of gossip never reached them. Upon passing through the vast city of Vorticade, she was delighted by the tidbits of “news” she picked up. Imperious had recently held a loss celebration for Myara and herself, not even a full year after their disappearance. Amahna was almost hysterical with the thought that she was “lost” and wondered giddily where she might find herself. Oddly, no one had discovered the body of Dephithus and he was now wanted for their disappearances as well as for the murder of a young soldier. Perhaps scavengers or roving daemons had consumed his body. Regardless, he was a convenient scapegoat for her crimes. With no word of any of them reaching Imperious, Dephithus was the obvious malefactor.

  The lords and ladies of Vorticade overflowed with exciting gossip coming from the Elysium palace. The Lady Avaline had gotten herself reinstated into the Imperious Legion and was out fighting daemon bands with the other soldiers. Mythan, with Dephithus a wanted man and his wife gone away to battle, had announced that he would step down and pass the throne to his brother’s oldest son, Allondis. Allondis was not a favored choice. Many whispered that he was cowardly and weak and that such traits, under the pressure of kingship, would turn him bitter and cruel. Mythan’s more charismatic nephew, Favrin, was too young to be offered the kingship that Mythan was now so eager to escape. It seemed that all the populace could say in response to the situation was that it was a shame Dephithus had turned bad.

  Imperious troops went out several times a month to fight the ever-increasing population of daemons that were ravaging the lands. Vorticade sent troops of its own out to help the Legion soldiers, but the smaller lordships hoarded what fighters they had to protect their own lands. With the lack of organization and the unpredictability of the daemons, there was no way to face them down in adequate numbers. Small troops were forced to run scattered all around the land and this disordered warfare was taking its toll on the ranks.

  All of this was delightful news for Amahna. As she headed northeast, toward where the rumors of the daemon army stemmed from, she was thrilled to see the chaos that the daenox was causing all around her. Over the land she saw more changes then just the presence of the daemons. Religious orders, disbanded when the dragons and daenox were imprisoned, were reappearing everywhere. People needed hope, and the gods that had been long ago abandoned were being looked to again for protection and salvation. Prophets and priests came out of nowhere, using daemon power with careless abandon to amaze their followers.

  Another less substantial part of history had been reborn amidst the chaos of these times. The hired heroes were returning. Amahna had already run across three of these wandering hunters. They were all energetic and brave and two of the three were barely old enough to marry. It was impressive how quickly the young could enterprise upon their times while the old struggled to adapt.

  As she moved into the high desert areas southeast of Dalynay, talk of daenox priests and the daemon army became almost common. Despite her previous misgivings, it was beginning to seem that finding just one man among thousands might not be so hard. In the village of Scamper, several miles southeast of Dalynay, she found what she was looking for.

  The oddly pastel colors of the high desert were peaceful in the same way the calm before a storm was peaceful. When she rode into the town that rose like a weary beacon from the flats she was almost overwhelmed with the eerie sensation of waiting that had come with venturing out into this rough, dry region. Waiting for what, she was not sure. Something dangerous yet subtle rested near here. It was like being drawn in by someone’s eyes and finding yourself at their mercy before even saying hello.

  Amahna stopped at the first inn and instantly she could sense the daenox nearby. Not a strong presence, but someone within those walls was using it for something. With confidence boosted by the always-ready power of the daenox within her, she walked into the nameless inn. Perhaps the plaque of wood over the door had boasted some title once, but it was long faded.

  The door creaked conspicuously as she stepped through, so she moved inside brusquely to avoid seeming timid. At the feet of a young woman seated in the corner lay a daemon-dog, resting peacefully as any normal canine companion. The woman had been lazily using daenox to spin her dagger in the air over the table. It was a sign of her inexperience that she reached up and plucked the dagger from the air rather than sending it down to her hand. The daemon-dog lifted its head, gray eyes alert, and regarded Amahna with interest. Other than this odd pair, there was no one in the common room except the innkeeper and two ragtag serving girls. The innkeeper regarded Amahna from behind the bar with less interest than the daemon-dog had shown.

  Drawing on a touch of daenox, Amahna focused her intent at the daemon-dog. The massive animal rose abruptly and paced over to her, lying down again with his head at her feet. The woman he had abandoned, a lean creature with dusty blond hair cut short enough to give her a masculine edge, scowled and nar
rowed her eyes. Dropping her feet off the table she sat up and leaned a touch forward as though she might stand, though she stopped and held her position at the ready.

  “What do you want?”

  Amahna regarded the woman with cold calm. “I am searching for the man who claims to be raising an army for the daenox.”

  “He does not just claim it,” she snapped. “And what makes you think I know him?” Amahna said nothing and the woman realized after a moment that she had already professed to more knowledge than she wanted to give. Her eyes darted around the room like a cornered animal and she jumped to her feet, approaching Amahna with wary steps, as though expecting an attack any second. “What do you want with him?”

  “I only want to see.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yes. Shall we go?” Amahna led the woman, whose name she had no interest in, out to where her horse was tethered. The daemon-dog followed devotedly along after Amahna. It was all too easy to influence low-level daemons, though the control would be lost if anything managed to distract the creature thoroughly enough.

  The woman led Amahna out the other end of the small town under the sedately curious eyes of the few people along the roadway being bathed in the dust of their passage. Once past the edge of town, Amahna discovered that she needed no more guidance. She sensed daenox in large concentration not far away and to the northeast of where they were. Confirming the direction, the daemon-dog veered off that way, Amahna’s influence vanishing before the power of this greater presence.

  Amahna followed the daemon-dog, leaving the woman to do as she wished.

  The other woman turned her mount with them, scowling. “I can take you to the temple.”

  Amahna’s lip lifted in a silent snarl as she kicked her mount faster to keep up with the daemon-dog who was now loping away from them. “He’s not in the temple, and I will not go there to wait for him.”