Daelyth! Dael, answer me, answer your father! Omerith thundered down the hall. Too many times recently, she had shut him out, and he was not going to stand for it any longer. “Why would she ask if I care about my own mother?” He arrived at her chambers and found the door locked. Omerith lowered his head a moment as his belly glowed bright orange, building his reserve of fire before unleashing it against the great wooden door that barred his access to his daughter.
The door caught almost immediately—the dragon’s fire could destroy any substance, and the carved wooden door was reduced to ash in no time. He shook his head to clear it before entering Daelyth’s chambers—why had he not thought to do this before? Once inside, he sent a magical command and lit the torches in the room. Daelyth was curled up on a large cushion in the corner of the room. The fire in the hearth next to her was nearly out, and Omerith took a moment to breathe it back to life. He turned his head back to look at her and gasped at what he saw. She was not asleep, as he had guessed when he first entered the room.
Daelyth was seated on the cushion with her long neck curled around her midsection. Her eyes were open, staring off into nothingness. Omerith came closer to his daughter—she was still breathing, but her breath was shallow. He nudged her with his head, but she did not respond. He could feel her through the bond—weak but there.
Dael?
Papa? Where are you, Papa? Where am I?
You’re right here with me, my precious child.
Papa, I need to tell you where the orb is while he does not listen.
Who, Dael? While who does not listen?
Papa, the orb is not in the stronghold as you commanded—you will find it where Mama used to take me to see the drakes fly.
Dael, I have no time for riddles. What is going on?
Where. . .the drakes. . .fly, Papa!
And she was gone—not gone, but she was different, silent. Omerith removed his forehead from hers and looked at her. Something was happening. Had he imagined all of that? What had just happened? Why was his head feeling fuzzy suddenly? The red dragon retreated from his daughter’s side and left her chambers, creating a magical barrier across the door since he had burned it down—he burned it down? Who burned it down? Where do the drakes fly? Drakes—fly.
Taeben flew about the Void, furiously —had he a voice, he would have been screaming. The red dragon got too close and shut him out before he spoke to Daelyth. What had they talked about? How could she have blocked him out? Somewhere he had missed something—but that wasn’t like him at all. Taeben swirled around, retracing his steps, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong—but he really didn’t have time for that. He had to lock down the red dragon and do it fast.
He returned to Daelyth, not waking her as he crawled back into her mind. She would stay asleep, and he could make sure that Omerith was back in hand.
Father?
So I am Father to you now.
What is wrong? I must rest my body, father, but I cannot if I feel that you are upset.
My sweet daughter. I am not upset. I am worried about you and about my mother. If the Guardians have gone for the Mother Dragon, we do not have much time before they return and take the orb. Where did you say it was?
I fear that I should not tell you, father—what if Mother is listening? You said yourself that she would take the orb and use it to resurrect your father, and we cannot allow that to happen.
No, of course not. You are right, as always, my daughter.
This was a new sensation for Taeben. The red dragon had pushed him away and severed the bond with his own daughter. He knew about the deception! But how? A realization settled on him.“The Guardians are—Ginny, what have you done?” He sought out his apprentice, Elspethe, but could not find her. Had he left her locked up too long? Had she just ceased to be? No, she was still there somewhere, but she blocked him, just as Gin had done in the past. He could barely even tell if Elspethe was conscious or not. Taeben roared into the Void. This was NOT how it was supposed to happen! Something had to change and fast—he had put too much into this to see his plan fail. Not when he was this close to returning to life and having everything.
ELSPETHE.
I cannot, Master, I have no strength.
You cannot refuse me. Our souls are bonded.
I cannot help you, Master. I am sorry, but I cannot.
Taeben howled off into the Void, to a dark place where he could sit and think. He was too far along to give up now. Once he was calm, he concentrated on Elspethe. If she did not lend him her strength, he would bring her there, to the Void, and he would take it from her.
You will not.
Who are you? Ikedrian accent yet unfamiliar voice.
You will do no more damage to my house, wizard. I am Ayna Turlach, and I am gathering the strength of our Elspethe’s ancestors. We will not allow you to win.
In desperation, Taeben latched onto Elspethe’s mind and pulled, and before long, she was on the ground in front of his non-corporeal form,
