Reyna glanced at the pit, on the other side of the battlefield. “We should focus our defence around the doorway. We have to secure passage for the Drakes.”
Vighon faced the Namdhorian soldier who quickly approached. “Find Captain Dardaris and have him inform Commander Rolgoth of the Battleborns that I must speak with him immediately.” The soldier bowed his head before running back to the camp with his orders.
The queen issued commands to Faylen and Nemir, sending them out to spread the word. “Even if Alijah has emptied Whistle Town and Galosha,” she said, watching them ride away, “the number of Reavers will be in the hundreds, not thousands. We can face that.”
“We have to,” Vighon said boldly. “The future of the realm depends on us saving that tree.” He lifted the sword of the north halfway out of its scabbard, dismayed by the absence of the flames that had always licked at the silvyr. “We cannot count on magic in this fight.”
“Inara and the Drakes may yet return before the Reavers arrive,” Reyna pointed out. “Then we will have magic and a dragon.”
There was a voice in the back of the northman’s mind and it was not so quiet in speaking its fears. He considered the strong possibility that the Drakes wouldn’t help them. And, if they did, there was no guarantee that they would heal the tree with their sacrifice, their deaths only adding to the great loss.
The king sighed. “Then pray that they return with all haste.”
Reyna turned to him, her own fears laid bare. “Pray to what?” she wondered.
Vighon looked up at the sky and narrowed his eyes. “To whatever keeps testing us.”
40
Out of Time
Three days after arriving in The Evermoore, Kassian Kantaris could feel what precious time they had slipping through his fingers as the realm of magic collapsed on itself. After the sun had set and the moon held sway over the night, the Keeper had begun to weather a sense of panic, fearing they would be too late.
As the hours and days had pushed on, more and more Drakes had arrived, filling the clearing and spilling out between the trees. As their silent presence grew, so too did their calming aura swell. They stood motionless, like the trees around them. Every one of them was touching another, their outstretched hands creating a web that spread beyond sight.
As Kassian walked among them, ducking under their arms and weaving between the trees, his fascination was beginning to get the better of him. It was clear to see that the Drakes possessed a form of communication that required no more than physical contact. The inquisitive mage that had always dwelled within him was curious to experience it for himself, and see if it worked on other races.
Presented with a tall male Drake, his horns thick and dark against his pale skin, Kassian removed one of his gloves and held up a hesitant hand towards his bare shoulder. At the last second, his fingers curled in and he retracted his hand until he was sure the Drake’s eyes were closed, like all the others. Confident he remained unobserved by any of them, the Keeper held out his hand again.
This time, he gripped the Drake’s shoulder.
The shadowy Evermoore dropped away as he was sucked from reality and consumed by streaking stars. He was moving faster than anything he had ever seen yet he couldn’t feel an ounce of resistance against his skin. His final destination was an indefinable place of colour and sound. Only his consciousness inhabited this new plane of existence. That was until the voices filled the space. So many voices. They all spoke at once, yet Kassian was able to understand them all.
“The realm of magic is dying.” Adan’s familiar voice was the strongest among them, his words looped on endless repeat. “The tree is burning,” he continued. “If that realm falls, so too will this one.”
Kassian was bombarded with sights and sounds from Adan’Karth’s memory as he showed every Drake what he had witnessed in the realm of magic.
“It is not our place to save or protect the realm,” another Drake replied. The smallest amount of focus from Kassian revealed the Drake’s name to be Laga’Thak. The Keeper knew that if he delved a little deeper he would see all of her memories too.
He withdrew, however, when he heard the voices of five others say, “You have been corrupted by their ways.”
“Ours is not a path of violence,” another added.
“Listen to him,” Laga’Thak’s voice insisted, opposing her own previous comment.
“What do you propose?” another female voice asked.
“It would be a peaceful existence,” a gentle male voice opined, as if they already had the answer.
Kassian listened a while longer, lost to it all, until he finally understood why their collective discussion made no sense to him.
They were all speaking out of time.
For those who were just joining the extraordinary forum, the conversation was in its infancy, even though others had been talking for days. Some, it seemed, were nearing the end, having heard and seen what happened to Adan’s hand when he touched the tree. While Kassian knew it was Adan’Karth’s plan to become one with the tree, adding his magic to it, he could sense that many of the Drakes were coming to that same conclusion before he explained it. He took that as a good sign.
The whole experience was maddening to the Keeper, whose human mind was struggling to inhabit an environment that didn’t adhere to a linear construct.
“There is life in the tree,” Adan was saying, his words overlapping his older ones. “But what life could we expect if we do nothing? The tree would surely perish and with it our magic. Without magic,
