cloud mist.
'Benjario is your servant,' the alchemist replied. Rik heard him fiddling with the athenor and slowly the balloon began to descend. They emerged from the clouds and he saw fields and the river below them, and the city behind. A troop of cavalry raced along the roads below, apparently determined to keep pace, and intercept them when they reached the ground. Rik was very glad that Asea was with them. She was a Lady of the First and a friend of the Queen. He would have hated to have had to explain to a Terrarch cavalry captain exactly what he and Benjario had been up to if they had been on their own.
A glance over his shoulder showed him something else. There was a rapidly expanding dot on the horizon, and even at this distance he could see it was far too large to be a bird. It closed the distance rapidly, greenish red scales and the polished silver armour of its rider glittering in the sun.
'A dragon,' he said, praying to God that its rider did not take them for an enemy. With one burst of its breath a dragon could set fire to the balloon, with a slash of its claws it could knock them from the sky. As he watched it came ever closer.
“We are lucky to see one,” said Asea. “They normally begin to hibernate at this time of year.”
Even as dread filled it, Rik knew this was a sight he would never forget. How many mortals ever got this close to a dragon in flight and lived? On the ground the great beasts were beautiful but here they were as much in their element as birds or devilwings. With its great pinions outstretched and its long tail snaking out behind it, the dragon was larger than their balloon and far more graceful. It swept past them so close Rik could see the rider's crystalline goggles glittering in the sunlight, and see the patterns of scales along its flanks. As he swept by the Dragon Rider raised his fist in salute, and it came to Rik then that all of this had been planned, that of course Asea would have notified the proper authorities of what they were up to, and that the dragon and the cavalrymen below were most likely present to ensure her safety or to recover her body in case of accident. Rik looked at Benjario. In the unlikely event of the Mazarean having any plans of kidnapping them, they were safe, and he knew it.
The dragon swept around them now almost playfully, and Rik once more wondered at its beauty and grace. What would it be like to ride atop that mountain of muscle and power, he wondered? Certainly far more thrilling than riding within this rickety contraption. In this race Asea was putting money on the wrong horse. In a world that had dragons what need had anyone of balloons?
Almost as soon as he thought it, the answer came to him. Anyone could ride in a balloon. Flying on dragon-back was limited to the very few who had the immense wealth to own one, and the training and the skill to mount the great beasts. Ballooning was a form of flight that was open to all. In some ways it was the sign of a newer, more democratic society. Asea would be aware of that of course and, like a true Scarlet, she was making sure she was associated with it.
As the balloon descended his respect for her intelligence and courage increased proportionately. She looked over at him and winked.
The balloon drifted closer to the earth. As it did so, Rik detected a new threat. Hedges surrounded many of the fields. Stone walls surrounded others. If they crashed into one of those while they landed, he doubted it would do them a great deal of good. Now that the flight was coming to an end he found that he was starting to regret it. There had been something strangely satisfying about sweeping near silently over the land, and looking down at the Kharadrean earth from the sort of perspective that only God, birds and dragons enjoyed.
They were at treetop height now, and swinging towards a hedge. As soon as he realized this Benjario fed the elemental in the athenor some marsh gas and they rose slightly. Rik could see they were going to miss the obstruction. It looked like they were going to make a soft and easy landing. The dragon swept over as if in salute.
The harshness of the impact caught Rik by surprise. Suddenly the wicker-basket was banging through a field, seemingly hitting ever stone. The basket juddered and bounced with the impact and all three of them were thrown about within it. It seemed ludicrous that there was the possibility of an accident now, in this field, when they had cruised through the sky without mishap, but it was all too easy to imagine a fall. Or hitting the red hot side of the athenor. Or having it tip and hit one of them.
Suddenly the flight was all over. The basket lay on its side and the balloon deflated beside them. Slowly they clambered from the basket and surveyed their surroundings.
'That could have gone better,' said Rik, but relief was flooding through him. He was back on the ground. The earth was firm beneath his feet. He was still alive and so were the others. He had flown through the air. He was among the first humans ever to have done so and lived.
A farmer and his family peered timidly at them from a nearby stone croft house. The dragon wheeled overhead. The cavalry troop thundered towards them, drawing up in line and presenting their blades in salute to Asea. Their faces were smiling and at their officer’s command they broke into cheers. She accepted this tribute with the grace of one who had had centuries of practice doing so. Benjario took a bow as well and no one seemed to mind. They even applauded Rik. It looked like the three of them were heroes.
An hour later as they rode in a newly summoned coach back to the city, the sensation of triumph still had not left Rik.
Chapter Nine
Rik followed Asea down the stairwell. It was warm and dark in the cellars below the Palace. He had to stoop. His head brushed the ceiling as the stairs wound downward.
Excitement made his heart beat faster. Today, they were going to practise his first real sorcery. Yesterday's balloon flight had taken them across some sort of threshold. Asea had decided that he was ready to be initiated into the first of the great mysteries of her craft. He was not sure what she intended, but it was something that needed darkness and secrecy. A whole section of the cellars beneath the Palace had been cleared.
A massive door barred the entrance to the cellar. Karim waited beside it, a naked sword in his hand, his face blank and expressionless. They entered the chamber. Asea slipped the heavy bolt into place. Rik considered the metal-bound entrance and the massive bar and realised that they would be secure against a small army. The ritual must involve making them very vulnerable if it needed this level of precaution. The security was for Asea. No one cared whether he died or not.
The place was prepared for their arrival. Complex patterns of Elder Signs and alchemical runes had been inscribed in chalk upon the floor. Patterns of coloured salt swirled around the edges. In the centre of the largest circle in the middle of the chamber was a small brazier on which steamed a bowl. More braziers were placed at intersections of the patterns.
'Walk to the central circle, aspirant,' said Asea. He did so, as he had been taught, being careful not to touch any of the lines. The patterns were wards. The slightest disturbance could make them vulnerable to inimical forces from outside of normal space and time.
Once he had done so, Asea too walked along the corridors of the pattern, speaking words of power that caused the braziers to light. The air filled with the smell of narcotic incense. Rik's skin tingled and his eyes burned. Asea joined him in the central circle. Picking up a wand of power, she closed the entrance to the corridor of lines down which they had walked, completing the pattern. She spoke the words of an ancient spell, and then bowed from the waist to the eight points of the astrological compass, invoking the names of various guardian spirits. This done, she indicated that he should sit, cross-legged as he had been taught, before the brazier. She did the same.
She picked up a knife from the tools laid out along the brazier and held it in the flame until it was hot. She took powdered alchemical compounds from a small herb-box and placed them on the blade. They sizzled.
'Put out your hand.' He did so, palm up, and she slashed it with the knife. The herbs went into the wound, making it smart at first, and then tingle until it went numb. She did the same to her own hand, and then placed them together so that blood mingled where the cuts had been made. With her free hand she offered him a wafer. As he had been previously instructed, he bit half of it and chewed and swallowed, and she did the same.
They continued to hold hands over the brazier. Her hand was cool and smooth, her fingers stronger than
